Hope Returns

by Dorey Whittaker

  Pushing open the swinging door to the kitchen, Lisa called out the familiar phrase, “Coming through,” as she entered her sanctuary—her kitchen. Oh how she had missed this place. Both Missy and Brenda about knocked her over in their enthusiasm to greet her. “Thanks for the warm welcome, girls.”

  “We are so glad to have you back, Lisa,” Missy gushed in her thick Alabama twang. “We’ve tried to keep things going but we sure are happy to let you have your kitchen back.”

  “I’m glad to be back; however, I have been told your excitement to see me is in no little way due to the fact that I will take back the four a.m. shift starting tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, that’s not the reason we’re happy you are back,” chimed in Brenda. Then in response to Lisa’s knowing smile back at her, “Well, it’s one of the reasons. Just not the only reason.”

  Hearing the timer signal something was ready to come out of the oven, Missy turned, grabbed an oversized mitten and slid a tray of Lisa’s famous Butter Pecan Rolls out of the oven and placed them on the cooling rack. Beaming with pride, Missy said, “See, Lisa, we followed your recipe to the letter.”

  “So you are not going to tell her about the five trays of Pecan Rolls we botched before we mastered it?” Brenda teased.

  “Just five?” Lisa questioned. “I think I ruined at least six trays before I got Gladys’s recipe down, so you girls outdid me.” Then, wanting to end this meet and greet moment, Lisa asked, “So what is yet to be done today? Have you got the bread dough rising yet?”

  “Yup,” Missy said with pride. “And we have your pie crust made and chilling in the fridge for you. We knew you would want to get right into making your pies again so we thought we would have everything cleared out and ready for you.” Then passing a wink to Brenda, Missy teased, “Your first pie was ordered last week, Lisa. Officer Jackson wants to personally pick up one of your double chocolate meringue pies at noon today.”

  “Okay, that’s about enough teasing from you two. Ben is a great guy and we like each other; that is all. You two get busy on the bread trays while I get the pies started. Mrs. Bascom is going to handle the front counter for several more days so I can just keep a low profile here in the kitchen. Once things settle down and we get back to normal, we can decide who does what around here.”

  Brenda’s knowing smile signaled to Lisa that she understood what she was really saying, whereas Missy, a little less observant, simply took the instructions at face value and started in on the bread assignment. Waiting a few minutes for the right time, Brenda slid up close to Lisa and whispered, “Things have calmed down some already. You taking that extra month was a good idea. People around here have short attention spans. At first, new customers kept coming in thinking they might get a glimpse of you. When they didn’t, they went on with life and forgot about you. Lisa, you know all our regulars still love you, right?”

  “I sure hope so, Brenda. I don’t want Mrs. Bascom to suffer on my account. I think it’s best if I stay back here in the kitchen most of the time, at least for a while.” Then, giving Brenda a playful tug on her apron, Lisa’s trademark replacement for a southern hug, she concluded their conversation with, “I’m glad things have calmed down, but don’t be mistaken, Brenda, there are lots of people in this town with very long memories. I’ll just have to deal with that when it comes. But, right now, let’s have some fun turning out the best stuff we can and wow them with our products.”

  The women chatted and laughed as they scurried around the kitchen attending to their individual tasks. The girls got Lisa caught up on their love lives, trying to outdo each other with descriptions of just how wonderful their boyfriends were. Listening to the endless chatter of the girls kept Lisa’s thoughts in check. She needed this distraction to keep her from dwelling on the fact that the swinging door to the front counter area remained closed today. For the past six years, once the ovens had been turned off and the kitchen had cooled down, they would prop the swinging door open so the smells from the kitchen could fill the bakery and increase sales. It also allowed their regulars to give Lisa a shout of greeting, compliment one of her pies or pastries, or simply to carry on idle conversation as they noticed her at the sink scrubbing dozens of bakery pans or standing at the big work island putting icing on a special order. The bakery had become a hub of gossip for many regulars. You always knew who was getting engaged, married, having a baby, you name it, and the bakery was involved. Mrs. Bascom’s bakery was the bakery for everyone in town. If something was going on, the bakery was where you found out the details, where, when, who, and how many.

  Today, without saying a word as to why, because they all understood why, Mrs. Bascom kept the swinging door closed. Lisa knew this was to protect her from curious eyes and even more, from unusually loud comments from rude customers at the counter. Every once in awhile, Mrs. Bascom would swing the door open so a friend could shout a greeting to Lisa, but then the door would swing back closed and Lisa would remember Gladys’s warning, “Protect your heart from anger.” She was glad Mrs. Bascom had decided to keep the door closed for now because she wasn’t so sure she could pray for “them” if she saw their faces, nor could she easily forget their rude remarks. “I guess they aren’t the only ones with a long memory,” Lisa chuckled to Brenda as they washed the last of the cookie sheets. “Ruth is trying to protect me from them, but really, I think God is protecting me from myself as well. I can carry a grudge as well as the next person and right now I need to be very careful to forgive. You’d think that someone who has been forgiven so much in her life wouldn’t have trouble forgiving others. I just wish it wasn’t such a hard lesson to learn.”

  Brenda said nothing, just reached over and gave Lisa’s apron a little tug. That was enough. At noon the swinging door opened as Ben Jackson entered the kitchen. Blushing ever so slightly, Lisa pointed to his special order and chided, “Officer Jackson, it is customary for us to box up the special orders and have them setting behind the front counter for pick up.”

  “Well,” smiled Ben, “I’m not here just to pick up my special order. I’m here to pick you up as well. Would you like to go down the street and grab a bite of lunch to celebrate your first day back to work?”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea, Ben. I’m not ready for any face to face confrontations just yet. Besides, I don’t want the whole world to know about us either, at least not just yet.”

  Brenda and Missy tried to look busy and pretend not to be listening. Ben turned to Missy and pleaded, “I need some help here, girls. Can’t you talk some sense into her?”

  “I’m keeping out of this. Lisa knows what is best for her.” Then, giggling as she took this opportunity to head out front to fill the cookie display, with a twinkle in her eyes and sassiness in her voice, Missy added, “Or at least she thinks she does.”

  Lisa pushed the swinging door closed behind Missy and said, “Ben, the lunch counter is way too public right now. I’m having a really good first day back and I don’t want to risk messing it up. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Ben teased. “You are ashamed to be seen with me,” then quickly added, “I do understand, Lisa. I can be patient. You take all the time you need, but may Benny and I come over tonight and have dinner with you and Gladys?”

  “Sure, I just need to call Gladys to let her know. She loves to cook and she loves you and Benny.”

  “She loves me and Benny?” Emphasis on the she.

  No one on the face of the earth could get away with teasing Lisa, no one except Ben. Poking him in the ribs as she pushed him out into the front of the bakery, Lisa whispered, “You know I do, but if I’m ever going to finish my work today so we can have that dinner together, you need to get out of here now.”

  With a huge smile on his face Ben ended their conversation with, “Tell Gladys I’ll be bringing dessert and, Lisa, don’t you be late. I know how you are when you get into a kitchen.” With that he went to the front counter, paid for his special order and left
the bakery a very happy man.

  It was almost six o’clock when Lisa finished washing the last cookie sheets, checked the list of special orders for the next day, and then headed out to the front counter. “Ruth, everything is ready for tomorrow. I went through the pantry and confirmed we have enough supplies to get through at least three baking days but we will need to start a shopping list if we want to bake anything on Thursday.”

  Flipping the closed sign on the front door, Mrs. Bascom slipped the bank bag into her leather tote, picked up a special order that needed to be dropped off down the street and said, “This was a really good day. It felt so good walking into my kitchen and hearing you three girls laughing again.”

  Lisa smiled at the thought of being called one of the girls. It had been years since she felt like a girl. “Ruth, none of us opened the alley door today but you might want to check and make sure the security alarm is still set.” Lisa knew she didn’t have to explain why she hadn’t done it herself before coming up front. It was just too soon to touch that door—the doorway where her father had died.

  “That’s okay, Lisa; I plan to leave the back way after everything is secure out here. Would you mind just dropping off this special order since it is on your way home? It’s for Myers Law Firm up around the corner. They are having a late night session and want some pastries in their conference room. All you have to do is drop this box at the receptionist’s desk. They will plate everything themselves.”

  “Sure, Ruth, I’ll be happy to.” Taking the pastry box as Ruth opened the front door, Lisa returned Ruth’s confident smile, even though she felt anything but confident. She had hoped to get through this whole day without coming face to face with any customers. “Are you sure the receptionist will still be there at six o’clock?”

  “If not, just set it on her desk and leave. Someone at the firm will find them.” Then, shooing her out the front door, Mrs. Bascom said, “Tell Gladys I will be joining you all for dessert tonight. She wants to make this a little party to celebrate your first day back.”

  Walking past the adjoining store fronts had never bothered Lisa. Mr. Nuell’s hardware store was usually the only other store still open this time of night. Painter’s Beauty Parlor always closed at four because Mrs. Painter was well into her sixties and could not put in the long hours anymore. Beyond the beauty parlor was Hodges’ Five & Dime. Years earlier, when Woolworth’s wanted to pull out of Jefferson, old Mr. Hodges thought he could still make a go of it and bought it, lock, stock and barrel, as he always said. Walking into Hodges was like stepping back in time. The old hardwood floors creaked underfoot as you walked beside the old fashioned counters that displayed everything from thimbles and thread to model airplane kits. Hodges even kept the old popcorn machine the Five and Dime was famous for. Many a customer entered his doors just to enjoy the smell of popcorn. Hodges was no fool, and he was a great salesman. Very few customers ever left his store without a complimentary bag of popcorn as well as something they could not live without. No one knew how he kept his doors open these days, but they were all glad to have him on the block.

  Turning the corner at the Five & Dime, Lisa could see the lights on at Myers Law Firm. As she climbed the six steps to the large oak doors she could see the receptionist’s empty desk through the ornate glass inserts in the doors. She quickly opened the door and headed for the desk. Intent on getting out of there without being seen, she set the pastry box where it would be easily spotted. Lisa could hear voices down the hall and hurried toward the front door. She recognized one of these voices all too well and had no intention of coming face to face with Mr. Gordon tonight. Gordon had been the prosecutor who had tried to get her convicted of killing her father just so he could use her trial as a steppingstone to the position of District Attorney. He also had threatened her daughter when she offered to step forward and explain what really happened that night in the alley.

  Running down the front steps, Lisa felt a huge sigh of relief, knowing she had gotten away without being seen. Looking back at the lighted windows of the conference room, she wondered why Gordon would be at Myers Law Firm this time of night. For the last month the paper had been full of editorials about what a snake Gordon was, a very southern description that fit him to a tee. It was also common knowledge that Judge Kirkley was determined to bring Gordon up on charges and was trying to get him disbarred. So why was he at Myers Law Firm?

  For months, as Lisa sat in jail waiting for her trial to start, the local paper had run story after story about her colorful past. By the time the trial was scheduled to start, almost everyone in Jefferson was convinced she had killed her father. So, when the truth finally came out, everyone felt lied to and this really hurt the editor’s reputation. Small town people don’t like it when they are betrayed by people they should be able to trust. Realizing he had been used by Gordon to accomplish his own selfish goals, the editor was now on a personal campaign to expose Gordon and ensure he never held office in this town again. The troublesome part of all this was that Lisa’s story kept coming up every time they wrote about Gordon.

  Again, Lisa found herself the victim of someone else’s drama. She had lived her first thirty years in such a stew of anger it had almost destroyed her. Remembering Gladys’s warning this morning, “protect your heart from anger,” Lisa questioned, “That doesn’t mean Gordon? He deserves everything he is getting. He needs to be stopped.” But having had this conversation with Gladys many times over the past month, she knew what Gladys would say. “Lisa, anger is an emotion that only destroys the user. There are people out there who know what he did and they are going after him. You need to let them handle it and release Gordon to face his own consequences. He is not going to get away with anything.”

  Seeing the house just two doors up the street, Lisa knew Gladys was right. Anger just keeps you connected to the very person you need to walk away from. Anger is a tether that binds you to that person. Leaning against the gate, Lisa confessed, “God, you know I’m not as strong as Gladys. I know she is right, but I’ve never been good at this. Not toward others and not to myself. This morning I thought I would have to forgive some customer for a rude remark. That would have been so much easier than this. Why Gordon? Why did I have to hear his voice and deal with all of this? Why did I have to start with such a hard person? I know if I hold onto these feelings they will just destroy me and they will poison any chance Ben and I might have for happiness. I don’t want to hold onto this anger, but I need Your help.” Then, remembering Gladys’s famous saying, “Confession is the first step toward healing,” Lisa reached for the gate lock and headed for the front door, confident that, as hard as it was, she had indeed protected her heart from anger today. She had owned it. She had confessed it. And she had asked for help. Reaching for the door knob, she smiled and said, “Tether disconnected—at least for now.”

  Chapter 4

  Ben was already at the house when Lisa walked in. He had one of Gladys’s dish towels tucked into his belt, which made Lisa chuckle as he greeted her at the door. “I washed the lettuce and got water all down the front of me so Gladys insisted it was either one of her aprons or this dish towel.”

  Lisa slipped her arm around Ben’s extended arm as he directed her toward the kitchen. “I think it looks good on you, Ben. Besides, Benny would throw a fit if he walked in here and saw his father in an apron.”

  Lifting the lid from the huge pot on the stove, Lisa asked, “What can I do, Gladys?”

  Turning Lisa toward the hallway, Gladys gave her a gentle push as she ordered, “Nothing. You go get changed out of that uniform into something comfortable. Ben and I have everything under control. Benny should be here as soon as football practice is over and then we can eat.”

  As Lisa changed her clothes she could hear Ben’s deep masculine voice telling Gladys one of his famous jokes. Ben could hardly finish them without breaking into a belly laugh himself. You never knew if you were laughing at the joke or just because hearing Ben laugh made you wan
t to laugh. Humor had never been part of her past, but Ben seemed to make it easy to see the humor in almost anything. He reminded her of a teddy bear, a gentle giant of a man. She loved it when he put his arms around her, then he’d tell her something funny and they would both laugh. Ben’s body would start to quiver and a deep resounding chuckle would erupt from him until Lisa was in tears and had to beg him to stop. There was absolutely nothing about this man she didn’t love. Sometimes that fact scared her.

  She and Ben were not officially dating. Officer Benjamin Jackson had been assigned the duty of escorting her from her jail cell to the conference room during the three months her attorney was preparing for trial. Then, as the trial got underway, he escorted her back and forth from the jail to the courthouse and stood at attention just a few feet from her throughout the trial. There was very little about Lisa’s life left unexposed to Ben Jackson, a fact that both comforted and mortified her. During the long, lonely afternoons in that jail cell, Ben would usually find some excuse to stop by for a chat.

  Knowing any discussion regarding her trial was not permitted, Ben would always have some safe topic to start their conversations; the opening of the new Winn Dixie out on the highway, the Methodist fund raiser that got rained out, and her favorite one, the time the Moose Lodge had a chili contest during the Fourth of July celebration and almost everyone in town came down with the runs. Ben could get so animated in his storytelling she could actually envision the dignified ladies of town making a run for the port-a-potties. “Pun intended,” he had added.

  Ben was fun to listen to and she began expecting and looking forward to his daily visits. He always treated her as a real person, so the days he was not able to stop by became very long days. On the days when Ben could stay a little longer than usual, the conversation would slowly drift to more personal topics, but never in great detail. Ben didn’t believe in dwelling on the past, but Lisa never got the impression he was trying to hide anything. She knew he was a widower and had a teenaged son. He attended church regularly, as did most people in this small southern town. He seldom talked about his wife, except to say she had endured a long battle with cancer, one she’d eventually lost. Lisa knew that Ben and his son, Benny, had been alone now for seven years and that Ben never dated.