Setting Off Sparks

Chapter 2-1

2

Lisa Peretti had stopped believing in fairy tales somewhere between her mother’s third divorce and her first year of nursing school. But right now, pushing Molly McGraw’s wheelchair down the sidewalks of Jupiter Point, she wondered if she’d missed something. The town had storybook charm oozing out of every cedar shingle and wrought-iron lamppost. It was enough to make even a jaded big city ER nurse like herself give a sentimental sigh.

Of course, it was all designed to inspire that reaction. Jupiter Point knew how to draw in the honeymooners and the tourists, not to mention the stargazers. Like naming every business with a “star” theme. Come on. Moon Glow Spa and Hair Salon. Really?

“Give me a Supercuts any day,” Lisa told Mrs. McGraw as they approached the salon, whose glass storefront was decorated—adorably—with beaming golden moons. “Haircuts are one thing, but I flat-out refuse to glow.”

Molly tilted her head back and laughed up at her, her lined face haloed by a white fluff of hair. Molly was, in fact, glowing. She had a perfect right to do so. She didn’t leave the house much anymore, with her advanced Parkinson’s. But with her daughter Evie getting married, and the whole family busy, they’d hired Lisa as a temporary caregiver. And Lisa’s first mission had been to get her out of the house more.

“But you, my dear, are another matter.” She smiled affectionately at the older woman. “You’re going to be glowing so much we’ll have to wear sunglasses to the wedding.”

“Be c-careful,” said Molly. “That smile glows.”

In the two weeks that Lisa had been working for Molly, they’d developed a teasing kind of banter they both savored. “You know me, I’m a hardhearted cynic. We don’t weep and we don’t glow.”

“But you smile. That’s a s-start.”

They reached the entrance. Lisa stepped around Molly’s wheelchair to open the door to the salon, only to find it already swinging wide. An older woman with foil in her hair held it open for them with a beaming smile.

“Molly McGraw, what a treat to see you here.”

A chorus of agreement and greetings came from the other ladies in the stylists’ chairs and under the hair dryers. The flowery scent of shampoo and overheated hair products made Lisa’s nose prickle.

A young woman with a pink bob wiped her hands on her smock and hurried toward them. She bent down to kiss Molly on the cheek. “You didn’t have to come all the way here. You know I’m happy to come to your house.”

“I know. But Lisa here is g-getting me on the move. I have to do what she says because she’s my f-favorite nurse. B-beautiful and kindhearted, although she tries to hide it.”

Lisa felt a blush sneak across her face. She hated her tendency to blush because it went counter to her badass, never-miss-a-beat crisis-manager reputation. “Where would you like us?” she asked the stylist.

“Call me Annie, and you can bring her right over here.”

Lisa pushed the wheelchair over to the spot Annie indicated, set the locks, then pulled a covered plastic cup with a straw from her tote bag. She gave Molly a sip, then made way for Annie, who offered her a warm smile.

“You can help yourself to water, or something from the Keurig.” She waved a hand at the cozy seating area just inside the bay window up front. “We have a pile of old magazines or you can just enjoy some good old-fashioned gossip.”

“We already covered all the big news in town, thanks to me.” The woman with the foil, who Lisa now recognized as Mrs. Murphy from the Third Book from the Sun bookstore, settled back under a dryer. “Now we want to hear about you, Molly. So you have a new nurse, do you?”

Lisa started to answer, but Molly forestalled her. “This is Lisa, she comes from T-Texas, she’s been with me for two weeks and I won’t have you s-scaring her away with your interrogations.”

Lisa laughed, though she had to admit she was relieved. Questions made her nervous. Not that she had anything to hide, but…well, she did. Two words defined her existence since she’d left Houston. Low. Profile. It had been nearly a year, and maybe soon she’d feel completely safe. But not yet.

Mrs. Murphy’s tinfoil quivered like a set of antennae as she eyed Lisa. If anything, she looked even more curious.

“I won’t be in town for long,” Lisa told her. “I’m sure you have better topics to discuss.”

“Yes, like Evie’s wedding.” One of the other hairstylists jumped in.

Letting out a long breath, Lisa picked up a copy of a tabloid and casually leafed through it as the discussion swirled around her. She had no interest in weddings, having been in more than her share. Her mother had remarried three times and her stepsisters had already racked up five weddings. Everyone in her family liked to get married—multiple times, apparently. Except her.

A photo in the tabloid caught her eye. It was a red-carpet photo of a couple arm in arm. The woman was a willowy blond actress whose name Lisa couldn’t quite place. The man looked like an Italian prince—dark-haired and stunningly handsome. And familiar. She stared at it, trying to remember where she’d seen him. In a movie? On a billboard?

Then her gaze dropped to the next photo. This one was taken in a hospital room. The same blond woman posed next to the bed—Lisa could tell it was a pose, having seen thousands of actual women next to real patients. In the bed lay the same dark-haired man, except now the entire left side of his face was covered in red burn marks.

Annika rushes to bedside of wounded fireman hero, read the caption.

Oh please. Could their writers be any more overdramatic? She skimmed the story, which talked about a “burnover” in the Big Canyon Wilderness. Twenty firefighters had nearly died when a wildfire had changed direction and they’d taken shelter inside their emergency tents.

So the mystery man was a fireman. Had she met him last summer, when she’d volunteered at the Breton Forest Service lookout tower? A memory tugged at her.

An excited voice caught her attention.

“Oh my goodness. Would you look at that?” Mrs. Murphy jumped to her feet, bonking her head on the metal dome of the hair dryer. It didn’t faze her one bit as she rushed to the door of the salon. “Finn’s back. And he has that actress with him. They must be here for the wedding.”

Finn. Finn. Now she remembered. In excruciating detail.