If It Makes You Happy(30)

He smiles at me, and I don’t know if I’ve seen such a genuine smile in my life. Maybe on my sister, but never like this.

I think for a moment, then straighten up. “If you’re helping me, let me help you.”

He laughs. “How?”

“I’m at the bed-and-breakfast all day. I can watch Brittany after school. Lighten the load a little for you if you want to stay late to bake.” I bet that’s what he wants.

He stiffens, mouth opening and closing. I guessed correctly.

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you,” he says.

“You didn’t. I offered.”

“I’m not going to burden you,” he says.

“You’re not a burden,” I say softly.

Cliff doesn’t respond. I didn’t know this man was capable of being speechless, as he is now.

He exhales, winding his hands together. “Yeah, I don’t know …”

“She can sit in the living room and watch TV,” I say. “I’ll make sure she does her homework. Plays outside. Things kids do.”

He side-eyes me with a smirk. “You’ve never been around kids, have you?”

“Only my sister.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know. Maybe. Birdie used to watch her, so Britt does know the place.”

My chest tightens. Sometimes people in Copper Run drop hints about my mother, and it’s always jarring. But they’re like precious shimmers. I want to grab each one.

“She did?” I ask.

“Yeah. She was always there when we needed. Good woman. Didn’t even have to ask.” He smiles to himself. “She’d simply show up.”

It’s quiet for a moment, only the skittering of leaves across the concrete. Distant child laughter down the street. The thunk-whine of a dribbled basketball.

“So, what exactly is your plan here, Michelle?”

I tug at my earring and pull my knees up to my chest. “I’m here to keep this place running,” I answer honestly. “If I can make it until December with this place intact, then I’ll be happy.”

“What happens in December?”

“I go back to Seattle. Back to my job. My life. Dad and Sara will move back and take over.”

He flicks his nose with his thumb. “Why is it that every woman needs the city life?”

“Friends makes it seem fun,” I joke.

That earns me a huge grin, and my fingers twitch at the sight.

“You already know how to be—what did you call it?—oh, warm.” He nudges my elbow with his. “You should tell more jokes. Be yourself. It’s charming.”

“Charming?”

“You’ve charmed me.”

I roll my eyes.

“See?” he says. “Your scowl, for one, is gorgeous.”

“Very funny.”

His gentle smile doesn’t fade. “Jokes aside, I’ll help you. Then you can go take taxis and drink at coffee shops or whatever you city people do.”

“That was still a joke,” I observe.

He shrugs. “I can’t help myself.”

I shake my head. “I’m sure my mom would love to hear I’m asking for help. Or that I butchered her biscuit recipe.”

“Did you?”

“You heard George. They were—and I quote—‘atrocious.’”

He chuckles, and for the first time tonight, he doesn’t respond with a loose-cannon comment. He seems genuine when he says, “Birdie would’ve thought that was funny.”

“Would she?”

“Oh, very much so.” He gives another smile. “Want some advice?”

“Signed up for it, didn’t I?”

“Make friends with Lisa and George. Make friends in general.”

“I hate people.”

He barks out a laugh. “Okay, well, Lisa and George mean well. Keep the phone line open for them, all right?”

“That won’t be a problem. Nobody else will be calling. Besides guests, I mean. And maybe my sister.”

He stares at me, and as before, I feel completely disarmed by it. How he can switch from goofing around to sincere in a heartbeat is a magic trick I don’t understand.

Cliff hums and asks, “Nobody else will call because they don’t want to or because you don’t want them to?”

I hesitate, then admit, “Both.”

He nods sagely. “Well, you came to the right town. Copper Run is a great place to disappear to.” He sighs. “We should start over, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

He holds out his palm. “Hi, I’m Cliff.”

I gingerly reach out to shake it, his large hand engulfing my own. His index finger presses on the inside of my wrist. My pinkie grazes the outside of his rough palm.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Michelle.”

Shake.

“I’m your next-door neighbor,” he says. “I have two girls. They’re both total snots.”

I laugh despite myself. “I have a dog. He’s also a bit of a … snot.”

Shake.

Cliff smiles, and the handsome crease beside his mouth deepens. “This is the start of a very weird friendship.”