by Rachel Hanna
“Then why are you here?”
Henrietta pulled a piece of paper out of her giant handbag and gave it to SuAnn. “Our annual Spring Fling is coming up. We’re trying to get donations from local businesses for our silent auction. It’s a good marketing opportunity.”
SuAnn looked at the paper. “Oh, that sounds nice. I’d be glad to donate.”
“We also have a pie contest, but it looks like you only make cakes?”
“Actually, no. I make all sorts of things.”
Henrietta smiled slightly. “I don’t want to brag, but I’ve won the pie contest every year for twelve consecutive years. I’d hate for you to feel bad if you don’t win.”
SuAnn chuckled. “Honey, I rarely lose anything I put my mind to.”
The tension hanging in the air was palpable as the two women stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Thankfully, the door chimed and a new customer came in.
“Well, I can see you’re busy. You’ll find all of the information there.”
SuAnn folded the paper and stuck it in her apron pocket. “Have a good day, Hen,” she said as she turned back toward the counter.
“Oh, it’s Henrietta,” she called back to SuAnn, correcting her.
SuAnn said nothing. Boy, this was going to be fun.
Chapter Two
Meg stared at the book sitting in front of her on the kitchen table. While Christian rocked Vivi to sleep, she had a few precious minutes to study before heading off to bed herself.
It wasn’t that long ago that she was at school in France, learning and soaking up culture at the same time. Now, she had a hard time making sense of the numbers on the page. Why had becoming a mother warped her ability to understand math?
“She’s finally asleep,” Christian whispered as he walked up behind her and kissed the top of her head. “How’s the studying coming along, mon amour?”
Meg loved his thick French accent, especially when he used terms of endearment. “Well, I’ve come to realize that giving birth has made me an idiot.”
“Do not say such things,” he said putting his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. “You are so intelligent, and you know this.”
“Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. I mean, I have my poor mother taking care of my daughter, and what if I fail these classes? At the community college? I’m not even at a real university, Christian.”
He sat down next to her and took her hand. “You think too much, my love. I know you can do this. Let me help you, okay?”
Meg smiled slightly. “But you don’t teach math, sweetie.”
He chuckled. “I remember enough. Now, show me what you don’t understand.”
“Your total is twenty-two forty-nine,” Julie said as she rang up three books for one of her favorite local customers. Miss Bessie, as everyone affectionately called her, was ninety-two years young. She always came in with her long-time caregiver, Amelia, and she only came on senior discount day.
“And I did get my discount, didn’t I?” she asked, as she always did.
“Yes, ma’am. You sure did,” Julie said, as she always did.
This week, Miss Bessie was buying a cookbook, even though she didn’t cook. She was also buying a birdwatching book, even though she could barely see. Julie assumed that Amelia read the books to her. This time, she was also buying a local history book.
“Miss Bessie, I noticed you picked out a history book this week. About Harriet Tubman?”
Bessie smiled as she leaned back in her wheelchair. “Oh, yes. You know, I was told as a small child that we share a bloodline with Harriet Tubman. Always made me so proud. I swear I stood two inches taller every time Momma said it.”
“That is something to be proud of,” Julie said, putting her books into a brown paper bag. Dixie refused to get plastic bags after seeing how detrimental they were to the local environment.
“You know, they used a local river to transport slaves to freedom.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Oh yes. The Combahee River. I can just imagine my ancestors smelling the warm scent of the sweetgrass as they hid, hoping for freedom.” She closed her eyes and smiled, her thoughts a million miles away.
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”
“Miss Bessie, we’d better get going. You don’t want to miss bingo, do you?” Amelia said, putting her hands on Bessie’s shoulders.
“Oh, Lord no!” Bessie said, cackling with laughter. She leaned in and looked at Julie. “I win almost every time.”
Julie chuckled. “I bet you do. Have a good afternoon, Miss Bessie. See you next week!”
She watched Amelia roll Miss Bessie down the sidewalk and out of sight. Julie was so thankful for this town and its people. Every day, she got to talk to the most amazing individuals that she never would’ve crossed paths with back in Atlanta.
Sometimes, she thought about how different her life was now. It wasn’t that long ago that she was married to a cheater, living in a big lonely house, interacting with the horrid women at her tennis club and thinking that was a great life. Now, she was living on a tiny low country island, seeing her daughters and granddaughter daily and head over heels in love with the man of her dreams.
“Anybody need a break?”
She turned around to Dixie poking her head out of the back room. “What on Earth?” Julie said, running out from behind the counter and hugging Dixie tightly. She hadn’t seen her in months, and it felt good to wrap her into a big hug.
“Thought I’d sneak in the back way so my fans wouldn’t see me out front,” Dixie joked. Gosh, she’d missed her sense of humor. When Dixie was around, she felt safe.
Julie pulled back and looked at her. She looked good and healthy. Mostly, she looked happy. “When did you get home?”
Dixie smiled. “About an hour ago. Harry told me to take a nice nap, but I wasn’t about to go without seeing my girl!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home today? I would’ve had a special dinner or something.”
“That’s exactly why! You’re a busy lady… and grandma… these days. No sense in fussing over me.”
Julie hugged her again. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too, sweetheart. It’s good to be home again.”
Julie finally let her go and they both sat down at the bistro table. “Tell me you’re staying put for awhile?”
Dixie bit her lips. “For a bit. But, we do plan to take some trips this summer. Maybe not quite as long as this one.”
“So, tell me everything! Where’d you go? What did you do?”
Dixie held up her hands. “Whoa, slow down there!”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re exhausted from your trip. I just hope you had a great time.”
“Oh, we did, hon. The best time of my life, in fact.”
Julie grinned. “That makes my heart smile to hear you say that. I love you.”
“And I love you too, darlin’.” Dixie stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “I think I’ll head home and take a nap. Plus, I need to take my Parkinson’s medication. You know it has to be taken at the same times every day. Three times a day for me. What a pain!”
“I know. Take care of yourself. When you’re ready to chat and tell me all the gossip from your trip, you know where to find me.”
Dixie reached out and squeezed her hand. “And boy, do I have plenty of gossip to tell you!”
“I’m looking forward to it!” Julie said as she watched Dixie walk out the back of the store again. She held her hand to her chest and quietly thanked God for the amazing life she had.
“I still don’t understand what you’re looking for, Mom,” Janine said as she watched SuAnn dig through yet another box.
“I know your sister must have it in here somewhere,” she said, still staring into the old box of photo albums and family genealogy paperwork. How Julie had managed to get these boxes all the way to Seagrove and up into her attic, Janine would
never understand. Of course, she was not one to hold onto things, having traveled the world so much. She’d been just as happy with her tapestry backpack and her favorite stainless steel water bottle.
“Why are you so frantic about it?”
SuAnn looked up at her. “Dear, I own a bakery. Why wouldn’t I want to find our old family recipes?”
Janine shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe Julie has them in the kitchen?”
“I already looked there. Can you text her? I don’t know how to do that on my phone.”
“Fine,” Janine said, rolling her eyes. No matter how many times they’d taught SuAnn how to text, she refused to even try. Janine typed out a quick text to Julie and then stood up to stretch. It was one of the hazards of being a yoga teacher, she supposed.
“Hand me that other box you brought down from the attic,” SuAnn said, her hand reaching out. She hadn’t seen her mother look this flustered in years. Why was she so frantic about looking for recipes?
“Mom, is the bakery not doing well or something?”
SuAnn looked up, a piece of her hair hanging between her eyes. She poked her bottom lip out and blew the hair upward. “It’s doing great. Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re acting like a chicken with its head cut off. Why the rush over finding these recipes?”
“Well, dear, they’re priceless family heirlooms,” she insisted, looking back down.
“Hogwash! You’re up to something, Mother. I can always tell.”
SuAnn shook her head. “You’re crazy, Janine. I’m simply trying to preserve our family heritage.”
“God’s gonna strike you down in a minute,” Janine said, rolling her eyes. She handed SuAnn the other box. If there was one thing she knew about her mother, it was that she got nervous and agitated when she was up to no good. The last thing Janine wanted was for her mother to be causing trouble in their new hometown.
SuAnn started digging through the new box, her hair falling back into her face again. “Honestly, Julie needs to get an HVAC guy out here. This living room is as hot as blue blazes!”
Janine walked over and checked the thermostat. “Mom, it’s seventy-two degrees in here. That’s hardly hot.”
SuAnn swiped her hair out of her eyes again. “Well, it sure feels hotter.”
“That’s because you’re acting like a lunatic digging through these boxes,” Janine said, sitting down next to her. “Mom, listen to me.”
SuAnn sighed and looked at her. “What?”
“I know something’s going on. Why don’t you just tell me what it is and…”
“I found them!” SuAnn said, her eyes cutting over to the box while Janine was talking. She grabbed a stack of worn, slightly brown papers that were held together by a rusty paperclip and held them to her chest. “I thought they might be lost forever.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“What is going on? And don’t say nothing.”
SuAnn blew out a breath. “Okay, fine. I’m trying to be a better person, so I’ll tell you the God’s honest truth.”
“I’d prefer that.”
“This horrible woman came into my bakery. Terrible fashion sense, a snooty attitude, perfume that would peel the paint off the walls…”
Janine rolled her hand in the air. “Get to the point faster.”
“Anyway, turns out she’s the mayor’s wife. Her butt was so stuffed in that God-awful skirt of hers that it looked like two beach balls were trying to escape. I wanted to get a safety pin and try to pop them.”
“Mom! What does this story have to do with those recipes?” Janine was growing frustrated, even if her mother’s description of the mayor’s wife was entertaining.
SuAnn smiled sheepishly. “There’s this pie baking contest.”
“Oh no.”
“Look, I don’t have much else going on in my life right now. Let me have this.”
“Mom, you’re terrible when it comes to competitions. Don’t you remember how insane you’d get every time I had to sell Girl Scout cookies? They were giving away an umbrella, and you just about mowed down poor Mrs. Daugherty to get that space in front of the ice cream shop!”
“You won that umbrella, didn’t you?” SuAnn said proudly.
“And remember when Julie took those modeling classes, and when she walked the runway you yelled so loud that they threw you out of the auditorium? Poor Julie was mortified.”
“I wanted her to know I was there.”
Janine laughed. “Oh, she knew you were there alright. But, my favorite was when we had the three legged race during field day when I was in fourth grade.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You hated Callie Rowland’s mom.”
“Oh, yes. That old cow, Delilah. She was the town tramp, sleeping with everybody’s ugly husbands.”
“You’re telling me you don’t remember purposely tripping her so we could win?”
SuAnn tried to hide the smile spreading across her face. “She landed like a big sack of potatoes right in that mud puddle.”
Janine lightly smacked her arm. “You’re terrible.”
“I can admit now that it wasn’t a nice thing to do, but I do still have fond memories of seeing the look on her face as she sat there in her fancy white capri pants and all that fake costume jewelry.”
“Mom, you know you can’t create chaos here, right? This is our new home, and we don’t want drama.”
SuAnn nodded. “I know. I’m not going to do anything like that, Janine. I’m really trying to be a better person. More accepting.”
Janine rubbed her upper arm. “I know, Mom. But, is it really the best idea for you to get involved in a competition of any kind? It doesn’t bring out your best side sometimes.”
SuAnn stood up and slid the papers into her oversized tote bag. “I promise I’ll behave, dear. I wouldn’t do anything to ruin this new life I’m trying to build. I just wanted to have my grandma’s pie recipes because nobody can possibly beat me if I use one of those.”
Janine walked her mother to the front door. “Remember, you want to make new friends here.”
“I’ve never been very good at that, Janine. Plus, I have my two girls here. Why do I need friends?”
It made Janine sad to hear her mother say something like that. “Because you deserve it.”
As she watched her walk to her car, she wondered what was going to happen when her mother entered that competition. She feared it wouldn’t be good.
Colleen stared at the large bowl of candy in the middle of the conference room table. She loved chocolate. It didn’t matter what kind it was or what it was covered with. Chocolate covered strawberries, raisins, nuts - she’d eat any of them. These were just plain chocolates, but she still struggled not to grab a handful of them and shove them into her mouth. Thankfully, she was sitting next to Tucker, and he was holding her hand.
“Sorry to keep you both waiting,” the woman said as she came into the room, shook both of their hands and sat down.
“No problem. I know you must be busy,” Tucker said.
“Always. I wish I wasn’t,” she said, smiling sadly. “Our foster care system is overwhelmed, and it only seems to get worse with each passing year. So many kids in terrible situations. I swear I stay up most nights trying to figure out a solution, ya know?”
“Well, that’s why we’re here, actually,” Colleen said.
“Oh?”
“We work in the toy invention business,” Tucker said. He slid one of his business cards across the table.
“That must be very interesting,” the woman said. “But, I don’t quite see the correlation between toys and foster care?”
Colleen decided to take over. “We were thinking… actually, hoping… to use our skills to help get some of these kids adopted and provide a really great learning opportunity for them too.”
“How so?”
“We’d like to propose a toy invention camp where a group of kids can come
and Tucker will teach them about inventions, starting their own companies one day, marketing and so forth. Obviously, this would be more suited for older kids, maybe elementary ages and up. At the end of camp, we’d have a huge party and invite the public. You could be there with some of your staff to help facilitate meetings and give more information on becoming a foster parent, or, better yet, an adoptive parent.”
The woman, who Colleen knew was named Amy Winston from her name tag, leaned back in her chair and tilted her head. She thought for a long moment.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea at all. It’s actually quite innovative.”
Tucker looked at Colleen and smiled. “Our very good friend, Dawson Lancaster, owns The Inn At Seagrove. He has already agreed to let us host it on his grounds. He also has a nice big shop in the back of his property where we can do hands-on demonstrations for the toy invention classes. I’m planning on demonstrating how to draw inventions, and I’ll even show them how I built one of my bestselling toys.”
“So, do you think you could get ten to fifteen kids to participate?” Colleen asked.
“Definitely. I have a lot of boys and girls who would be a great fit for something like this. But…”
“But?” Colleen said.
“I have to ask… What would the cost be?”
Colleen and Tucker looked at each other and laughed. “We hadn’t considered charging anything, actually,” Colleen said.
Amy’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”
“We just wanted to give back to the community and touch some kids’ lives. We never thought about getting paid,” Tucker said.
Amy stood up and pressed her hands together in a praying position. “God must have sent you because I can’t think of a nicer offer!”
Colleen and Tucker stood up and Amy ran around the table to hug them. They definitely hadn’t expected that kind of reaction.
“I guess we better start planning?” Tucker asked.
“Yes! Oh, I can’t wait to tell our board members. They’re going to be so excited. Let’s talk over email and finalize the date and details,” Amy said.