She shrugged and didn’t look up. “Mom said she’d call me every day, and she’s only called three times.”
“I’m sorry about that, Livvy. I know you miss her, but I’m glad you’re here. And I bet Belle is too.” Her stiff little shoulders relaxed a bit, and he went on. “It’s obvious that Miss Elizabeth is glad you’re here, or she wouldn’t have invited you to come over after school every day. And Miss Cooley’s your friend too.”
Olivia shot him a look. “You mean Sarah?”
He laughed. “Better get used to Miss Cooley, kiddo. School starts in just a little over a week, and you know you’re not going to call her Sarah then.”
She sighed as if the world had rolled onto her shoulders. “This is not going to be easy.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve got it nailed.”
The back door opened and Carlos stuck his head out. “Rita’s out there looking for you.”
Chris stood up and squeezed Olivia’s shoulder as he headed back into the kitchen. “Hang in there, Livvy. We’re going to be fine.”
We’re going to be fine. It seemed every time he opened his mouth he was telling Olivia that things were going to be fine. He shook his head. Who am I trying to convince here?
“Hey, boss.” Carlos slid a pan of biscuits in the oven and turned to face Chris as he passed through. “It’s none of my business, but she’s a good kid. You’re doing all right.”
That was the most encouraging thing anyone had said to him since Kaitlyn and Jase had driven their Harleys into his parking lot. It didn’t change a thing, but it helped. A lot. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
Through the window, Chris could see Rita sitting in a booth riffling through a sheaf of papers. Rita turned out a flawless event. She was known for it. However, she also could turn the most trivial detail into an hour-long meeting, and usually the sight of her bustling in the front door made him want to take off out the back. But thanks to an offhand remark by his cook, he felt he could even take on Rita. He smiled as he pushed through the door into the dining room.
“’Morning, Rita. You’re up and at ’em early. What can I do for you?”
Rita took the pencil out from behind her ear and tapped the list in front of her as Chris slid into the booth across from her. “I really wish you’d reconsider using those little salt and pepper packets instead of the shakers. They cost next to nothing, and you don’t have enough shakers anyway.”
Chris signaled to Juanita to bring coffee and began to explain his vision for “Hot Chile and Cool Jazz” . . . one more time.
It took a while, but Rita finally seemed satisfied that Chris had the salt and pepper shaker situation under control. She gathered her papers together and slid from the booth.
“Okay, I guess this is it for now. If I think of anything else, I’ll give you a call.”
“You know where to find me.” Chris waved away her attempt to pay for the coffee and walked her to the door. “And I do appreciate all you’re doing.”
“Well, this was a terrific idea, Chris.” Rita stopped at the door, and for a minute Chris was afraid she might decide to sit back down. “I’ve been trying for years to find a way to get this town on the map, but Russ Sheppard and the town council keep shooting down every blessed thing I try to do. But this! This is going to be good. I know it started out with you wanting to do something a little different here at the Dip ’n’ Dine, but it’s going to be great for Last Chance. You wait and see.”
“Hope so.” Chris managed to usher her out and turned to check the clock over the counter. True to form, she had been in the diner for well over an hour, leaving Juanita to handle the bulk of the breakfast crowd herself. And Juanita did not look happy.
“I did not appreciate that comment about Russ one bit.” Several tables of diners had doubtless heard Rita’s criticism of the town council, and Juanita’s comments, though spoken to Chris, were doubtlessly directed toward them. “If I’ve heard him say it once, I’ve heard him say it a thousand times. ‘A little advertising is fine and good, but bankrupting the town to promote it is sheer tomfoolery.’”
Whether it was Rita’s comment about Russ or the fact that she had to call Sue Anderson back to tell her Chris had made plans of his own for Olivia’s after-school care, Juanita’s mood for the rest of the morning made Chris decide that owner or not, staying out of her way was the better part of valor.
A little past noon, Sarah and Elizabeth came in for lunch, and Olivia, who had been sitting at the counter drawing, saw them drive up and met them at the door.
“Well, hello there, sweet girl.” Elizabeth put her arm around Olivia’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze as they walked to a booth. “What are you up to this afternoon?”
“Drawing.” Olivia stood by the table, but when Elizabeth scooted over in the booth to make room, she grinned and climbed in beside her.
“Olivia, we need to let Miss Elizabeth and Miss Sarah eat their lunch now.” Juanita, still a portrait of irritation, set down two glasses of water and held out her hand. “Come on.”
Olivia returned the glare and pressed closer to Elizabeth. Juanita, as she often said, could tolerate just about anything but outright defiance, especially from a child. Her smile was fixed and never reached her eyes as she stood by the booth with her hand outstretched.
“Oh, we don’t mind a bit.” Elizabeth was unperturbed. “In fact, we’d love to have Olivia join us for lunch. Do you think that would be all right with Chris?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.” Juanita put the menus on the table, turned on her heel, and stalked off toward the kitchen.
Sarah watched her go. “So is she going to ask Chris, or what? What’s with her, anyway?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. It’ll all sort itself out.” Elizabeth reached for the drawing Olivia had brought with her. “What do you have here, Olivia?”
Across the table, Sarah watched the white curls and skewed ponytail bend over the place mat while Olivia launched into a detailed description of her artwork. Gran was such a natural with kids. They instantly loved her. And truth be told, Gran was never happier than when she had a child or two at her elbow. Maybe this after-school arrangement wasn’t a totally bad idea. But Sarah still intended to keep an eye on things.
“Olivia, you’re not being a pest, are you?” Chris had appeared at the table.
“Not at all. She’s just telling me all about her picture. Have you seen this?” Elizabeth held up the drawing and smiled at him. “She’s quite the little artist.”
“I’ve got lots more. I’ll go get them.” Olivia slid out of the booth and ran off.
Chris stepped back to let her go. “You’re sure she’s not a bother?”
Before Elizabeth could do more than shake her head and say, “Not at all,” Olivia was back with a sheaf of drawings that spoke of far too many hours spent entertaining herself in the diner while her uncle worked. She scooted back in and began explaining each one in detail.
“Okay, then. Enjoy your lunch.” Chris hesitated a moment before turning away, but Elizabeth and Olivia were already engrossed in her drawings and didn’t look up. Only Sarah smiled her thanks and watched him go. Why had she been so quick to mark him as arrogant and overbearing? She was beginning to think he might be one of the most caring men she had ever known.
“Olivia, these are just amazing.” Elizabeth sat back and looked at the earnest little girl sitting next to her. “You know, Sarah’s cousin is a real artist, and he’s going to be here for a visit in a few weeks. I want you to show these to him.”
“Ray’s coming?” This was the first Sarah had heard of it. “When?”
“They’re coming down for this chile-jazz thing in October. I thought I mentioned it.”
“Lainie’s coming, too?” Juanita had appeared to take their order and seemed as delighted as Sarah was with the news. “I just love that girl. You know, Russ and I were in here having breakfast that first morning she came in. In fact, it was my id
ea that she stay with you, Elizabeth. Of course, I didn’t know at the time she’d be staying for a year. We were thinking two or three days at the most.”
“It was a good year in so many ways.” Elizabeth smiled. “I came to love her like she was one of my own. And since she married my grandson, well, I guess she is one of my own now.”
“Did you ever hear Lainie sing, Sarah?” Juanita seemed entirely recovered from her earlier fit of pique. “She has the voice of an angel.”
Olivia had frowned when Juanita interrupted them, and the longer she claimed the attention of Elizabeth and Sarah, the deeper Olivia’s scowl etched itself across her face. Finally, she turned herself in the booth so her back was to Juanita.
“Which picture do you like best?” She shoved the stack toward Elizabeth and raised her voice to drown out Juanita’s.
The surprised silence that fell over the group was broken by Elizabeth’s calm voice. “We’ll talk about this in just a minute. Right now we need to order our lunch, and you may not realize it, but you interrupted Miss Juanita. So after you say excuse me, you can tell her what you’d like.”
Olivia heaved a sigh that bespoke a burden heavier than one person should be called to bear. “Excuse me. I want a grilled cheese.”
She looked back at Elizabeth, who only smiled and waited. Olivia sighed again. “Can I have a grilled cheese . . . please?”
17
Sarah released the last of her second graders into the custody of the last hurrying parent and allowed herself to collapse at her desk for just a moment before she got up to straighten the room. Exactly six weeks ago today she had faced her class of second graders for the first time, and just this morning the calendar monitor had placed the last pasteboard apple on September 30.
The weeks had flown by, and she had discovered two things she hadn’t realized about teaching. One, she didn’t know half as much as she thought she did, and two, she loved teaching. She knew it was what she wanted to do when she went to college, and she had enjoyed her student teaching, but she had not been prepared for the sheer joy she felt when she and her very own class were engaged in learning. Maybe it had something to do with their age. Seven- and eight-year-olds seemed hardwired to love their teacher, if not everything she wanted them to do.
Her eyes fell on one desk, a little cockeyed from the others in the row, and she sighed. Olivia was not having an easy time of it. She was way behind the others academically, for one thing, but that wasn’t the real problem. Gran was working with her every day after school, and she’d soon catch up. It was that chip on her shoulder that was causing the real problem. She had come into the classroom with the attitude that no one was going to like her and she didn’t expect to like them either. Of course, it was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Sarah got up and went to take the big September calendar down. She picked all the pasteboard apples off the numbered squares and put them back in their box. Tomorrow the new calendar monitor, Emma Anderson, would put the first pumpkin on October 1. Emma, who never got dirty, who never spoke out of turn, who was always offering to help, and who, quite frankly, really got on Sarah’s nerves.
For one thing, she was pretty sure that Emma was behind most of the animosity directed toward Olivia, not that Olivia didn’t help it along. Sarah had overheard Emma warning a group of kids not to play with Olivia because her mother said they’d learn too many bad things from her. Sarah had followed with a talk to the class about being kind and welcoming to everyone, and Emma had sat on the front row nodding at everything Sarah said. But it still seemed to be Olivia against the world.
“Hi. Are you busy?” Chris stuck his head in the door.
“Just turning September into October. Come on in.”
“Ah, so you’re the one who’s doing it, huh? I’d noticed it was happening.” He paused. “I wonder if you have a minute to talk.”
“Sure. I’d ask you to sit down, but . . .” Sarah gestured around the room of child-sized chairs.
“It’s okay. I’m not staying long. I’m just on my way back to work.” Concern marked his face. “How’s Olivia settling in?”
Sarah hesitated. “What does Olivia say?”
“Well, that’s why I stopped by. When I pick her up, she seems pretty happy, until I try to find out how her day went. Then she stops talking altogether unless it’s to say how much she hates everyone. But when she gets out of the car at your grandmother’s, she’s happy again. Do you know what’s going on?”
“It hasn’t been a real easy adjustment. It’s always hard being the new kid in class, especially when everyone else has known each other all their lives.” Sarah wished she could be more reassuring. “But I’m keeping an eye on things, and if a real problem develops, of course I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not had it easy.” He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then blew it out in a gust. “Well, I’d better get back. It’s pretty much a madhouse over there. We’ve been getting deliveries all day.”
“How’s it going?”
“I know we’ll be ready by Saturday night. Rita says so, and I hear she’s never wrong about these things. But I have to say, I’m sure having to take her word for it. I know the food is under control, but that’s the only thing I know.”
“If Rita says you’re good, you’re good.” Sarah laughed. “Just run your kitchen and leave the rest to her. Did you sell a lot of tickets?”
“We’ve been sold out for nearly two weeks—and not just to local folks either.”
“I know. My friend Brandon is coming all the way from Chicago for this.”
“Yeah, right.” Chris grinned. “That’s exactly why he’s coming.” He headed for the door, stopping just before he stepped through it. “You’ll keep me posted about Livvy, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Chris threw her a grateful smile and closed the door behind him. Not for the first time, Sarah wished she had about five minutes to explain a few things to Chris’s sister. That woman had no idea what she was just tossing away. And Sarah wasn’t just thinking of Olivia either.
Chris could have put in at least a couple hours more work at the Dip ’n’ Dine when he locked the door and got in his Jeep. Elizabeth had assured him that he need not be concerned about those nights when he would be unavoidably detained, but he wanted to make them as few as possible. Olivia seemed truly happy and relaxed when he picked her up at Elizabeth’s, and he did not want to mess that up.
Olivia must have seen him pull up, because she came flying out the door as he opened the gate. “Come inside. I made some cookies all by myself. Miss Elizabeth didn’t do one thing.”
“Not one thing?” Chris let her grab his hand and tug him up the steps.
“No, sir.” Elizabeth met them at the front door with a smile and a plate of cookies. “I stood by with some advice, but Livvy did all the measuring, mixing, scooping, and baking by herself.”
“And I didn’t burn myself either, like you always say I will.” Olivia looked up at him, and the pride in her face touched his heart.
Why hadn’t he thought to cook with Olivia? He supposed he was either too busy at work or too tired afterward. Whoever said that being a single parent wasn’t for the faint of heart knew what they were talking about, that’s for sure.
“Here, have one.” Olivia took the plate from Elizabeth and held it up to her uncle.
Chris chose one and took a bite. “Livvy, these are amazing. Are you sure you did this all by yourself?”
“Ask her.” Olivia gestured toward Elizabeth with the plate, causing the cookies to come precariously close to sliding off the edge.
“Well, if Miss Elizabeth says so, it has to be true. But I have to say these are incredible. Good job, Livvy.”
“Have some more.” She held the plate up to him again.
“You don’t want your uncle to spoil his dinner, Olivia.” Elizabeth took the plate back and handed her a brown paper bag. “I saved some cookies for us to have when you
get home from school tomorrow, but you can take the rest home with you. And don’t forget, I want you to show your uncle how well you can read too. So, five pages before you go to bed, okay?”
She looked at Chris for confirmation and he nodded. “Sounds great. Cookies, milk, and a good book. I can’t wait.”
Olivia skipped next to him as they walked to the car, and she was humming a little bit when he made sure her seat belt was fastened in the backseat. He knew asking the wrong question could easily bring on the sullen silence Olivia hid behind when she felt cornered, but she was in such a good mood that he took the risk.
“Livvy?” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “How was school today?”
She shrugged. “Sort of okay. Mostly I hate it.”
“Why? Miss Cooley is nice, isn’t she?”
“She’s not as nice as when she took me to ride her horses, but she’s still sort of nice.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So why do you hate it?”
“Because the kids are dumb. And they’re mean.”
“All of them?”
“Yep. Especially Emma A.”
“Emma Anderson? The girl I met? I thought she seemed like a nice girl.”
“Well, she’s not. She’s mean and she makes all the other kids be mean too.”
“Does Miss Cooley know?” Chris had stopped under the carport of his singlewide and turned around to look at Olivia in the backseat.
She shrugged and looked away. Chris saw the light fade from her face and knew he was in danger of losing her to that dark place she hid in when life overwhelmed. He retreated.
“Okay. I want to go get dinner over with so I can eat some more of those cookies. What shall we fix?”
Olivia hopped out of the backseat, still clutching her brown paper bag. “Macaroni and cheese with hot dogs in it.” She didn’t hesitate. “The kind from the box. Not that kind you make.”
Chris followed her inside. There was a time, and fairly recently too, when boxed macaroni and cheese, not to mention hot dogs, would never have been found anywhere near his house. But he had learned.
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