Daniel Caldwell took a sip of his coffee, sat the thick paper cup back on the round tabletop and then spread the latest edition of the local Seattle newspaper out in front of him. An article outlining the latest in fluctuating oil prices caught his attention so he settled into his straight-backed chair to read it. One article was about all he ever had time for, given that he only allowed himself half an hour of “me” time on his way to work every morning. The rest of his day was filled with hospital duties or the duties of being a single father to an active, growing three-year-old daughter who was always ready to grab his attention.
It was a busy life, a very hectic life sometimes, but this daily half hour at the coffee shop made him feel more human. He liked mixing and mingling with other people for that little while, even though he really didn’t have the time, at this point in his life, to socialize. It was nice being around others who had no expectations of him. In his own personal scheme of things, that was a rarity.
Daniel took another sip of coffee and read that the oil experts expected a continued fluctuation in oil prices well into the foreseeable future. Not that it mattered much to him. He drove an economical little car that couple of miles to work every day and, like that grandmother-type driver who typically took the car out only to go to the grocery store, he didn’t do much other driving. At least not during the week. On his days off, though, he tried to take Maddie to the park or down to the pier. She liked to throw bits of bread to the seagulls and watch the people fish off the docks.
Daniel glanced at his watch, regretting that his half hour was passing so quickly, but fifteen minutes of it were now over with. So he took another gulp of coffee and casually glanced at the shop’s door as the bells mounted above it tinkled a merry welcome to the woman pushing the door open and entering.
She was attractive. More than attractive, she was a beauty. Elegant and understated in a pair of navy-blue scrubs. Had he seen her at the hospital before?
Looking away as quickly as he’d glanced at the door, Daniel didn’t want to get caught gawking as she made her way through the tiny tables for two and headed straight to the serving counter. But once her back was to him he looked at her again. Did he know her? She seemed familiar. Same curvy frame, same confident carriage. No, it couldn’t be. On second thought, maybe... But her hair was lighter—a nice honey-blond now, which suited her fair complexion—and it wasn’t pulled back into a tight little bun at the nape of her neck, but rather it was flowing freely to her shoulders, giving her an oddly feminine look. It was nice. Oh, and the glasses were missing. Zoey always wore oversized black-framed glasses that gobbled up most of the top half of her face. They weren’t becoming on her, nor were they unbecoming. Rather, they’d been a matter-of-fact statement that she simply liked to conceal her beautiful face beneath plastic.
Zoey. One thing was for sure. He’d never expected to run into her. Never wanted to, actually. So should he approach her? Be polite and ask her how she was doing? Daniel thought about it for a moment as he watched her interact with the barista, a young man of about twenty who was sporting waist-length dreadlocks and a killer smile. He noticed that she tilted her head slightly to the right as she laughed at something the barista was saying. She was so upbeat. But then, Zoey had always been upbeat during her several weeks with Elizabeth, and that was one of the things he’d admired about her.
That, and her nursing skills. Exemplary nursing skills, in his opinion. Especially since she was doing a very tough job—one he personally wouldn’t want to do himself. He remembered how she was always so optimistic about her work.
Daniel knew that Zoey’s outlook had been a great comfort to Elizabeth during her final days, and for that he’d be eternally grateful. She’d made Elizabeth smile and laugh.
This woman at the serving counter now had the same melodic laugh he remembered. A laugh he’d come to count on during some very rough times. He could hear it ring out over the low drone of the background chattering in the shop, and it was still as infectious as ever. Made him smile just hearing it.
It caught Daniel off-guard when Zoey spun around to face him, coffee in hand. She turned back to the counter for a moment to tuck a tip into the jar sitting next to the cash register, then looked straight at Daniel—who glanced immediately back down at his newspaper, realizing that in the past several minutes he’d managed to read only one sentence.
He purposely kept his eyes down as she started walking in his direction, not sure how, or if he wanted, to greet her. Damn, she was a reminder of bad, bad times. Times he wanted to forget but couldn’t, as they still haunted him a year later. Even so, as she brushed by his table, he forced himself to look up and smile. Her smile was returned through a pair of the most hauntingly stunning blue eyes he’d ever seen. Damn it to hell, he didn’t know what to do now.
“Daniel?” she said, pausing briefly, her lips curling into a friendly smile.
“Zoey?” he returned. “Zoey Evans?”
She nodded. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“A year.” One long, lonely year since Elizabeth’s death.
“So, how are you doing?” she asked.
“Pretty well. Working and taking care of Maddie... That’s about all I have time for.”
“I’ll bet being a single father isn’t easy. I’m assuming that you’re still single?”
“Still single,” he said, pointing to the chair across from him as he rose to his feet. “Care to join me for a few minutes?” He glanced at his watch. “I have about seven before I have to head out to the hospital.”
She frowned for a moment, then gradually nodded her head. “That’s about all I have, too. I have a patient to see near here this morning, and I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”
He thought back to all the appointments she’d had with Elizabeth and she’d never been late. Not even by a minute or two. “You always were punctual,” he said as he pulled the chair out for her then watched the graceful way she slid down into it.
“And you were always running behind.”
“Not anymore. I’ve changed my evil ways.”
Zoey smiled at him and sat her espresso down on the table. “Always being late bothered Elizabeth, you know. She said she could set the clock by your tardiness.”
He hadn’t talked about Elizabeth in so long... Not out loud, anyway. Although, she was always in his thoughts. But actually to talk about her to someone... The wound she left still cut deep and he was always afraid that it would open and bleed again. He’d gotten along without her this past year and it hadn’t been easy, never easy, because he missed her so much that there were still remnants of a physical pain lingering. There hadn’t been a day gone by that he didn’t look at her picture, talk to her, reminisce...
But actually to talk aloud about her... Never. Not even to Abby, Elizabeth’s mother. She watched Maddie while he was at work and there had arisen this unspoken rule between them that Elizabeth’s name was not to be uttered out loud.
“I knew she hated being late, hated me being late. She used to fuss at me for it. I think it was one of the few things we ever really fought about. But I don’t do that anymore, and I’ve got to tell you that being on time is difficult when you don’t have someone behind you to push you into it.”
Zoey took a sip of her espresso and looked over the top of her cup at him. “She was happy in her marriage. She talked about that a lot.”
“So was I. Five years wasn’t long enough.” Future plans they’d made had been cut short by a voracious leukemia. It was the kind of thing no one ever planned for, let alone considered within the realm of possibilities. But Elizabeth had been diagnosed and three months later...
“They were five good years, though, and just think! You have Maddie. How is she, by the way?”
“She’s resilient. Staying with Elizabeth’s