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Laura relaxed. "That sounds perfect. Delicious, simple and quick. And you’re in luck. Pine Ridge happens to have the best pizza parlor in seven states.”
“I knew the people of this town were harboring a deep dirty secret.”
He had no idea.
In Pine Ridge, nothing was far, and they arrived at Wild Harry’s Pizza Parlor in less than ten minutes. Aidan got out of the car and helped her disembark, eliciting a shiver as he captured her small hand in his large one, hesitating for a moment before releasing her. The afternoon was bright and brilliant, as they surveyed the small but colorful restaurant. Crafted of sturdy red bricks but covered in paint of all colors, it looked more like a circus tent than a diner, but looks were deceiving. She had truly never tasted better pizza.
Her guest studied the restaurant with a dubious expression, but she boldly grabbed his arm. “It’s not how it looks,” she promised as she led him forward. “Just sit down and wait to be amazed.”
He looked down at where she grasped him, but didn’t say a word. She let go, smoothing her hands on her clothing. What had gotten into her? When they joked, somehow she forgot they were rivals, at least for the moment. He was determined to uncover the secret she desperately needed to keep, at least until she determined the path forward. Thus far he seemed honorable, but she needed to learn more before giving him the power to change her life.
They entered a brightly colored dining room with round Formica tables and puffy red cushioned chairs. The carpet was the same as when she’d been a kid, a bold mix of neon yellow, bright orange and purple, and the walls were covered in hundreds of snapshots of family and friends, in a cornucopia of mismatched frames. Country music played softly from an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner, and the room smelled like freshly baked bread.
A sign directed patrons to seat themselves, so they found a booth in the corner, next to windows that showcased the parking lot, a quilt shop and a small Pinball arcade. Aidan held out her chair, then sat down on the opposite seat. A teenage waiter wearing a red shirt and a foam pizza on top of his head presented them with menus. Aidan’s lips curled up, but he graciously made no mention of the preposterous headgear. With a promise to be back soon, the waiter left.
Aidan chuckled. “The best pizza in seven states?”
“Don’t let the hat fool you,” she warned. “This place might be a little strange on style, but the pizza is a masterpiece. I bet none of your fancy restaurants have pizza hats.”
“Unfortunately not.” He put down his men, and his expression turned sly. “Do you think they’ll sell me one?”
“They might,” she replied seriously. “If you’re good, maybe I could help. I know people.”
They both laughed. She opened her mouth to say more, but their conversation was interrupted by two young girls with curly red hair and bountiful freckles, walking shyly to their table. “Mr. Bancroft?” the older of the girls, clearly sisters, inquired.
“That’s me.” Aidan gave the children a friendly smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I…we were wondering if you would give a quote for our school newspaper,” the taller girl started with a slightly flushed face. “We’re doing a story on your company, and it would be really cool if we actually had something from you. I know you’re really busy answering questions from real reporters, but, well, do you think you would mind?”
Laura stayed quiet as Aidan interacted with the girls. More than anything, she needed to see his actions, especially around children. With a kind smile, Aidan nodded warmly. “It would be an honor to give quotes to the tworealreporters before me.” He asked if they had any specific questions, and not only did he answer every one, but expanded beyond. He thanked the girls, and minutes later, they left with broad smiles.
She liked what she’d seen. A lot. As a reporter, she dealt with many celebrities who were arrogant and self-consumed, and not very patient with children. Point one for Aidan. One conversation could not elucidate his fathering ability, however, thus it was time to start asking questions. The girls provided the perfect opportunity to enter this difficult topic. “You get along well with kids.”
He looked up sharply, but before he could respond, the waiter returned, carrying a bowl of steaming rolls smothered with thick pieces of roasted garlic and fresh Parmesan cheese. Laura grimaced at the poor timing as the waiter pulled out a pad and asked for their order. She quickly conversed with Aidan, and they ordered a large pizza with tomatoes, onions and extra cheese and a pitcher of soda. When the waiter left, Laura looked expectantly at Aidan.
She did not need to repeat the question. Briefly, he answered, “Yes.”
She waited, but he did not elaborate. She’d have to tread lightly on this sensitive subject. “Do you like children?” she asked casually.
The expression on his face became unreadable, his eyes deadly serious. The playfulness of earlier disappeared, all traces of levity gone. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I like children.” For a brief second he closed his eyes, as if fighting to keep control.
A wave of guilt paralyzed her. Was he was remembering his lost child, the one taken from him at nearly the same time of Jeanie’s conception? How could she uncover his feelings toward children and not overwhelm him with painful memories? Perhaps a different approach would work.
“I was a goody two-shoes when I was a kid," she confided. "But sometimes it got me into trouble, like the time I decided to paint the den because my mom’s favorite color was blue. I snuck downstairs in the middle of the night, armed with my entire art set. When I ran out of blue, I didn't think she'd mind if I added in some – well, all the other – colors. I was six."
The pain in Aidan’s expression softened. “Was she impressed?”
Laura smiled at the memory. "As much as you’d expect, especially since washable paints weren't popular back then. But she didn't even punish me."
"She knew you were trying to do something good. It makes sense.” He shrugged. “If it had been me, I probably would’ve signed you up for art classes.”
She smiled at the perfect answer. Many would have called for severe punishment, despite the intentions. Instead, he would’ve encouraged her talents.
"I assume you get along well with your family," he asked before she could pose the next question.
She meant to respond with “fine,” instead gave the far more honest, "Sort of." He cocked his head to the side, and without conscious thought, she elaborated, "Actually, I get along great with most of the family. It's just my dad. He doesn't quite get me." She stopped. Why had she revealed so much? At least she hadn't shared the real reason for the discord – her decision to have Jeanie on her own. She pressed forward, "What about yours?"
Aidan's lips lifted in a warm smile. "My family is great. Big and boisterous. I'm one of eight."
