Coffee, Tea or Love: Those Gals From Minter, WI, #1

By Sherry Derr-Wille

Past meets present and future when Grant  finds Lane.  Their love rekindled, he introduces her to the son they gave away 35 years ago.

The one secret Lane Allerton thought would be kept forever came to town with Grant Price.  Grant could hardly believe his eyes when he recognized Lane.  With the one true love of his life standing in front of him, he wondered how he could tell her about their son, who found him years earlier.

Tension and tender lovemaking alternate, until at last Lane is reunited not only with her first love, but also the son she gave away 35 years earlier.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781590882313

Book preview

Dedication

To the gang at Jody’s Gourmet Coffee Shop.

Thanks for the inspiration;

for your encouragement

and romantic coffee.

One

S mall Town, USA, Grant said aloud, as he pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. The neon sign in the window glowed through the early morning fog, proclaiming the shop to be open. He wondered if April Fools Day extended past the first of the month.

It’s not a good sign, he muttered to himself, while shoving the gearshift lever into park. I’ve been in town for three days and all it’s done is rain. Now on my first day of work it’s so foggy I can hardly see my hand in front of my face.

Once inside the door, a sign on a blackboard greeted him. WELCOME TO JAVA LANE — TODAY’S FLAVOR HUGS & KISSES.

Grant read further to see what else was on special. It was the same here as it had been in Chicago. Chic coffee shops always served java with cutesy names.

Can I help you? the woman behind the counter asked.

He lowered his gaze to get a better look at her. Dark auburn curls fell softly around an oval face. More striking than her perfect complexion were her ice blue eyes.

The scones are fresh, she commented.

He realized she took his silence as indecision, rather than interest.

Ah, a large coffee.

House blend or flavor? she questioned.

I’ll take the flavor and leave room for cream. This is quite a shop.

The woman smiled, obviously flattered by the compliment. Thank you. You must be new in town.

I moved here over the weekend. I’ve got the first day on the new job jitters.

Where are you working? she asked, as she pumped coffee from the thermos on the counter.

Compton Enterprises, he replied.

It’s a good company. You should enjoy it. So where are you from?

Grant smiled. He remembered growing up in a town like this one, a town where gossip ruled. Chicago. What about you?

She seemed to stiffen at his question. I’m a home town girl. I went to high school here and came back a few years ago.

Several people entered the shop, cutting short any further conversation. What little information he’d gleaned, he filed away for future reference.

Good morning, Lane, a blond wearing jogging pants and a sweatshirt chirped, as she made her way to the counter. For your information, don’t go jogging in the fog. Some crazy guy almost hit me when I crossed Randall.

A vision of a much younger woman materialized in Grant’s mind. Why hadn’t he seen it right away? The eyes, the voice, all the signs were there. The only thing missing was the name. There weren’t that many women who were called Lane.

He’d looked for Lane Sacks, his high school sweetheart, for almost thirty-five years. Now, when he wasn’t looking, he’d run into her headfirst. How long would it take for her to realize Grant Price and Skip Price were one in the same?

LANE PUT HER HANDS into the hot soapy water. Automatically, she scrubbed the espresso pitchers in anticipation of the lunch crowd who would be descending on her in less than half an hour.

Her early morning customer consumed her thoughts. Something about the man gave her an uneasy feeling. She couldn’t put her finger on anything in particular. The way he stared at her with his haunting blue eyes made her feel all warm inside. It had been a long time since anyone had such an effect on her.

The dream which had awakened her at the ungodly hour of two this morning, popped into her mind. Over the past thirty-five years, it had always signaled a life-changing episode. What could it mean now?

Questions without answers dominated her thoughts. As usual when she was dismayed, she heard Jack’s voice enter her mind.

::Don’t be so frightened, Lane. Think back on the dream. It has signaled good as well as bad.::

When she’d first heard Jack’s voice, she’d been alarmed. He was dead and buried, so why did he sound as though he was standing right next to her? Over the past year, he’d invaded her thoughts several times. Now, his words of wisdom and encouragement were more soothing than frightening.

Are you about ready for the lunch crowd?

Lane turned to see her Aunt Peg enter the kitchen area of the shop.

Almost, Lane replied.

Peg poured herself a cup of coffee. Are you feeling any better than you were earlier?

What are you talking about?

I think you know. You had the dream again. I’ve known you most of your life and recognize the symptoms. I heard you screaming at two and noticed the bedding in the laundry room. Do you want to talk about it?

Lane shook her head. What could she say? This morning’s dream was no different than those of the past. In it she gave birth to her son, only to have a social worker rip the child from her arms. When she awoke, she’d been drenched in sweat and completely drained.

Every time it happens I remember how easily my folks threw me away.

Peg put her arm around Lane’s shoulders. You know what they say, Dear, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. You were your Uncle Art’s treasure, to say nothing of mine.

What would I do without you, Aunt Peg?

The way it looks, you’d be doing the dishes. I thought you might like some time to rest, so I called Nancy. She’ll be here any minute. I want you to get out of here for a while. As a matter of fact, I want you to take the rest of the afternoon off. I rented that movie you’ve been talking about seeing, and have lunch made and in the refrigerator. Now scoot.

Lane kissed her aunt’s cheek and grabbed her coat. It had been a long time since she’d taken an afternoon to relax.

By the time she returned to the house, her mind was spinning with memories of the past.

She’d been fifteen when she found out she was pregnant with Skip Price’s child. Her parents’ reaction had been to send her to Peg and Art’s Wisconsin home, hundreds of miles away from Southern Indiana and Skip.

All during the months Lane spent waiting for the birth of her child, Peg begged Lane’s parents to allow them to adopt the baby. Lane’s mother’s answer was always the same. I’ll not have Lane’s bastard bringing shame on our family. The baby will be put up for adoption, but not for you. If you want a child so badly, you can have Lane. She’s no longer welcome in our home.

Lane knew she wasn’t supposed to be listening on the upstairs extension, but she did it anyway. With the exception of the dream, it proved to be the last time she heard her mother’s voice.

Tears sprang to her eyes at the painful memory. Unwilling to dwell on the past any longer, Lane focused on the meaning of the dream.

The first time it invaded her subconscious she met Jack Allerton only a matter of days later. It seemed as though the dream came as an omen. Jack changed her life for the better, but changed it, nonetheless.

From then on, each time the dream returned, another life-altering event occurred. It had come with the birth of each of her three kids, when Uncle Art died, and finally when Jack’s plane crashed.

What could it mean now? Could one of the kids be sick? Was there something Aunt Peg wasn’t telling her?

After brewing herself a cup of tea, Lane put the movie into the VCR and got comfortable in the recliner. The story no more than began to unfold when Lane fell asleep.

IT’S FIVE O’CLOCK, Grant. Are you going home or are you planning to spend the night at your desk? Rob Asher asked, on his way out the door.

It’s been too long a day to spend the night. I feel like I’ve met every employee of this company.

Could be because you have. Well, tomorrow is another day. I have to get home to the wife. It used to be the kiddies, too. Fortunately, they grew up and moved away.

Grant watched as Rob made his way to the door, then signed off the computer and straightened the top of his desk. Compton Enterprises was the kind of company that paid big bucks to the headhunters to track down the best possible people for upper management. He’d been surprised when they called him for the position of controller. At the time, he hadn’t been looking for a different position. The offer had been too good to pass up. After this morning and his encounter with Lane, he knew the move would prove to be the best one of his life.

Hey Rob, wait up! he called as he got to his feet.

Rob stopped, then turned to face Grant. Something I can do for you?

Didn’t you say you’ve lived in Minter all your life?

Guilty as charged.

Good. What do you know about the woman who owns Java Lane?

Lane Allerton is a great gal. She came here at the beginning of our junior year. By the time we graduated, she was Valedictorian.

Allerton? Grant questioned, hardly aware he’d spoken her name out loud. He’d never thought of her marrying someone else. To him she would always be Lane Sacks.

That’s her married name. She met Jack when she was a flight attendant and he was a pilot. Lane and my wife are good friends. They stayed in touch, even when Lane was flying all over the world. Do you know Lane?

I thought I did. I guess I was mistaken. You have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Rob went out to the parking lot, leaving Grant to lock up for the night.

Did you think she’d be waiting for you? Grant’s inner voice asked. You married, why shouldn’t she?

Sure I married, in an attempt to forget her. I divorced because it didn’t work. Along the way Rita and I had two kids who ended up in an emotional taffy pull.

Hey Grant, Rob called, as Grant walked toward his car. In case you’re interested, Jack was killed in a plane crash a year ago. Lane lives with her Aunt Peg. Their place is down the street from me. They’ve got an unlisted phone number, but I think I can persuade Joyce to give it to me.

Thanks, Rob, I’d like that.

Rob waved then pulled out of the lot. What had started out as a miserable day netted him a new friend and Lane.

As he drove toward the condo he’d purchased after taking the job, his mind went back thirty-five years. He was eighteen again and in love with Lane Sacks. They’d dated for several months before the night she got pregnant. They’d gone to the first football game of the year and stayed for the jam afterwards. As usual they’d gone out to the lake and parked. Their petting went further than either of them expected. He could still hear her sharp intake of breath; still see the fear in her eyes when he slipped past the barrier of her virginity. He remembered feeling guilty for the pain he caused her.

When Lane told him she was pregnant, he worried about not being able to go to college. Then, one day she was gone, her parents moved out of town and his parents had their phone changed to an unlisted number. He’d looked for her in every face he saw, but never found her.

Thirteen years ago, his company had hired two young men from one of the local colleges to work in his department. To his surprise, one of them turned out to be Clint Sacks. It took only a matter of days to determine Clint was Lane’s younger brother. To Grant’s surprise, Clint was the same age as the child Grant and Lane gave up for adoption so many years earlier.

After that, Clint told him how he’d lost his parents in a car accident the summer before he started his junior year at college. When going through the house, he found a box marked LANE. In it, were the things girls kept, pressed flowers from Grant’s junior prom, a well loved teddy bear, and a scrap book of pictures cut from movie magazines, along with a picture of herself and Grant on prom night. Beneath the picture, she had printed SKIP AND ME - PROM.

By the end of summer, Grant and Clint had become close friends. That friendship had grown to include Clint’s friend, Mark Evans.

Although Grant often wondered about the resemblance of the two young men, he didn’t question it. Now he wondered why. Maybe it was because he was intent on doing his job, or the fact men didn’t notice things like that as easily as women.

Grant could still remember the day Clint and Mark came to his office and asked for a meeting. In two weeks, the boys would be going back to college and they would want full time positions after graduation. They were so good he’d recommend them without their degrees.

We have a question to ask you, Clint began.

If it’s about full-time positions after graduation, you don’t have to ask.

We’d hoped for the offer, but that’s not why we’re here, Mark interrupted. Clint and I have been doing some research. We know he has a sister, and he also knows you got her pregnant when she was fifteen. What I want to know is if you’re my father?

At first he’d been shocked, then frightened. He knew about his son, but to him the boy was only a baby being given to a loving couple. Now he was faced with a grown man who was full of questions.

On closer inspection, he finally saw the remarkable resemblance between Clint and Mark. He wondered how he could have missed it in the past.

He’d stood, almost speechless for several seconds, before he finally stammered, it-it’s entirely possible. As much as he wanted to embrace Mark, he refrained. The man had a father as well as a mother. He certainly didn’t need another one.

He’d relived the question and the events it predicated every day for the past thirteen years. The paternity tests proved Mark was Grant’s son, in the same way the tests the two young men had taken a year earlier confirmed Mark to be a blood relative to Clint.

They’d done their research well. Since his name was listed as head of the department they were applying for, it hadn’t been hard to put two and two together.

When he’d asked them why they’d said nothing earlier, their reply was that they weren’t certain, since he bore little resemblance to the pictures Clint found in his parents’ attic.

Grant pulled into the garage of his condo and shut off the engine. He wished he could shut off the events that dominated his thoughts as easily.

Once inside, he sidestepped the unpacked boxes and made his way to the spare bedroom where he’d set up his computer. He pressed the enter key and watched the screen come to life.

After signing onto the net, he checked his E-mail. He saw several junk transmissions as well as ones from Clint and Mark. Without opening any of them, he clicked on the new message icon. From his address book, he selected both Clint and Mark’s addresses.

Grant thought of all the things he could type, but the only words to appear on the screen were:

I’VE FOUND HER!!!

Nothing else seemed important. He clicked on send, then opened the messages that waited for him. He read only two of the junk advertisements before an incoming message interrupted him:

I don’t have your new phone number, but we need to talk.

Clint.

Grant picked up the phone and entered the number. At the other end the call was answered on the first ring.

Are you sure? Clint asked, without saying hello.

Positive, at least almost positive.

When can we meet her?

Be damned if I know. I have to meet her myself.

What do you mean? I thought you said you’d found her.

I did, she owns a coffee shop here in Minter and her last name is Allerton. The only thing I’ve said to her is that I want a large flavored coffee.

From that you know who she is?

Yes, Clint, I do.

Then why didn’t you confirm it when you were in her shop?

I don’t know. I saw only a beautiful woman until I heard someone call her Lane. By that time, the shop had begun to fill with people and I was on my way out the door. I think I can blame it on being in a state of shock.

He was glad the local cable company offered Internet service when the sound of another message coming across the net interrupted them. It was a plus to be able to talk on the phone and work on the net at the same time.

That message must be from Mark, Clint said, before Grant opened it. What does it say?

Grant couldn’t help but smile. He wants to know when he can meet his mother. Guess I’d better call him before he packs his bags and heads north.

Mark was just as excited as Clint, but Grant warned him not to come. Before either of them came to Minter, Grant knew he had to approach the girl he once knew and always loved, and meet the woman she’d become.

Two

Lane tossed and turned . At four-thirty a.m. when the alarm went off, she felt as though she’d hardly slept. Trying to be quiet, she showered and dressed before heading to the kitchen.

To her surprise, Peg waited for her. I was hoping you’d sleep in.

Why should I? Lane replied, stifling a yawn.

Because you’re exhausted, Honey. Why don’t you let me open the shop today?

That’s sweet, but it’s a short day. I’ll come home later and take a nap.

I still wish you’d take me up on my offer.

Not today, Aunt Peg, but soon. I promise.

Lane picked up a slice of buttered toast. After kissing Peg’s cheek, Lane went out to the garage and got into her minivan. It would have been easy to go back to bed and let Aunt Peg open the shop, but it wouldn’t be right. If it hadn’t been for the dream, she would be rested.

Yesterday’s rain and fog had dissipated when the temperatures dropped below freezing. To her dismay, her parking lot was