by Tonya Kappes
“I thought it was going to be the best event in my portfolio. I just adore Pam Horton and Truman Phillips. Their families are amazing, and there’s no real budget.” She pulled a photo of a cake from the binder and handed it to me. “Look at this cake. Beautiful. Almost too pretty to cut.”
My jaw dropped. “Wow. Look at all the pearls. Who on earth is going to make this around here?”
“Emily Rich over at the Bee’s Knees Bakery.” She caught me off guard. Really off guard.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “She just opened, and I don’t think she’s ever done anything so elaborate.”
It wasn’t that Emily Rich wasn’t a great baker. She was. In fact, I was instrumental in her opening the Bee’s Knees Bakery after she graduated from high school and worked a summer for me.
As most parents did, her parents wanted Emily to go to college and fulfill her career dreams the educational way. Emily had other plans. She was a whiz in the kitchen, and when she worked in my coffee house—where I did make some basic pastries to go with the coffee—she went above and beyond with amazing desserts that I never wanted to make.
She was still new and had very little formal training. I hated to see her take on a much bigger project than she could handle, because that could be a downfall of a business. I knew that because of the coffee house. The worst thing for a new business was a bad review, especially in a small town like Honey Springs.
“It’s not Pam who wants this cake. It’s Hillary Canter.” Babette rolled her eyes so hard, it looked like she hurt herself. “I’m supposed to meet with Emily this afternoon to show her the photo. I hope she can do it, because Hillary has no problem firing her and getting a new baker.”
“I thought we were talking about the Phillips’s wedding.” I hesitated, blinking and baffled. “Who is Hillary Canter?” I asked since she’d mentioned her a couple of times.
“Oh, I forget that you didn’t grow up here.” She shook her head. The messy bun toppled to the right, and the ponytail holder dropped onto the shag rug when she bent over to look through the binder.
“Meet Hillary Canter.” Babette shoved a photo of a woman about our age in a two-piece cream suit, wearing a feather head topper and with a glass of white wine in her hand. Her long black hair cascaded down her right shoulder.
“No teeth?” I questioned.
“Of course, she has teeth.” Babette moved the photo so she could see it. “Beautiful teeth. Amazing body. Money. And she’s Pam’s best friend.”
“I mean she doesn’t smile with an open grin.” Not that it was bad, but when a Southerner didn’t smile with a big, wide smile, it seemed like she was hiding something. Once, she told me that she didn’t trust a woman who didn’t smile without her teeth showing. “Never mind.” I waved it off.
“You’d think she was getting married,” she said with a raised eyebrow. She shoved the photo back into the binder, flipped the pages a couple of times, and took out a clipping of another cake, a simple four-layer white cake with pink and yellow roses lining each layer. It was beautiful, and it was definitely more along the lines of what Emily could do.
Babette let out a long sigh. “Now that the wedding is right around the corner, Pam is listening more to Hillary. She’s wondering if Hillary is right about the wedding guests and how they’re expecting fancy and not simple.”
“I love a nice simple wedding.” My insides warmed, and I touched my ring finger, which had my engagement ring on it. “Lake Honey Springs pier has the perfect backdrop to make for an elegant wedding.” I shrugged. “I think the bride and groom are the centerpiece, not some silly, fancy cake.”
“Are you thinking of the wedding you’ve envisioned for you and Patrick?” There was a wry grin on her face as she stared at me, waiting for my answer.
“Ever since the fire, we put any talks about a wedding on the back burner,” I said, remembering a few short months ago when my Christmas tree had caught fire and burned down a portion of my cabin. “I’ve been so busy with the remodel, and Patrick knew I was stressed.”
“I’m so glad that you finally reconnected with him,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. “I remember when we were in high school and you’d go back home from summer breaks. He was lovesick for months.”
“You think he was,” I laughed, remembering how I’d met Patrick Cane as a young teenager when he came with his daddy to fix something at Aunt Maxi’s house. My heart still fluttered when I saw him with a hammer. “I was a girl. My poor parents.”
“Years later, here you are.” Her chest heaved as she took in a big breath. “And I’ve got to make a dreaded call to Pam to figure out what she’s going to do. Tomorrow is the deadline for any sort of changes, and right now”—she shook her head—“there’s nothing set in stone for her big day, and I’m getting very frustrated.”
“Well, I hope I could bring you a little joy with the coffee.” I pulled my jacket back on. “What was it that you wanted to see me about today?”
“You know.” She looked as though a light bulb had gone off in her head. She bent back over the wedding binder and flipped more pages. She pointed at the page she ended up on and tapped it with her nail. “I completely forgot, but in the early stages of planning, Pam asked for a fancy coffee bar.”
She flipped the big binder to the front and drew her finger down the very first page, which appeared to be a list of sorts. “Keep in mind, this was before Pam let Hillary get involved.” The tone in her voice changed from upbeat and high, to low and snarling. “Like I said, I’m meeting with Pam, and we’re going to discuss my meeting with Emily about the cake. I’ll remind her about how she asked about a coffee bar. Why don’t you just so happen to bring me a couple of to-go cups of this amazing summer brew?”
“Nine a.m.?” I asked, knowing that was a good time to leave Bunny after the rush of the morning crowd.
“Nine a.m.,” she confirmed, standing up alongside me.
“I’ll be here.” We shook hands, and I made a mental note to put it on the calendar as soon as I walked back to the coffee house.
“What was it that you came by for again?” She asked.
“We were going to discuss some joint events, but it looks like your plate is full.” My stomach rumbled to life. “Besides, I’ve got to get back and get ready for the lunch customers.”
She held the cup up in the air as a sort of cheers, thanking me. “Do I taste a hint of strawberries?” she asked after taking another sip. “It’s so frothy.”
“Strawberries, rhubarb, orange, even some chocolate.” I smiled and zipped up the light coat. I didn’t tell her the rest of the recipe. Some things were meant to be kept a secret, even in Honey Springs.
TWO
Lake Honey Springs bobbed with a few waves from the no-wake zone that extended from each end of the boardwalk. With the sun beating down at full strength, the boaters and tourists were everywhere.
The boardwalk had almost reached its one-year anniversary of the new renovations, which had provided a much-needed economic boost. From what my mama had said, almost all of the cabin rentals were filled. Patrick’s construction company, Cane Contractors, was busy as all get out with jobs from locals who owned and rented cabins for income and needed to bring their cabins out of winterizing.
I did a little window shopping at Queen for a Day, the bridal and women’s boutique located between the Bean Hive and All About the Details. Not that I had any place to go all dressed up, but it was nice to look.
From the outside looking in, I noticed Pam Horton, the soon-to-be bride, standing in front of a mirror in what looked to be a two-piece suit. But it looked like every other person in there was fawning over Hillary Canter. At least it looked like the Hillary Canter from the photo that Babette had showed me.
Pam caught me staring at her. She gave a faint smile with an even weaker wave. With a big smile on my face, I gave her a big wave, held up my coffee cup, and pointed to the coffee shop, waving her a gesture to come by. She slid her gaze o
ver to Hillary then back to me, offering me a big nod.
I gave a last wave and headed next door. I might’ve been a little biased, but the smell coming out of my shop was better than any smell coming out of any shop on the boardwalk. The scent of cinnamon, sugar, and vanilla bean mixed with roasted coffee rushed out of the door when I opened it.
There was never a better feeling than stepping into the coffee house and seeing what I’d imagined come to life. I loved being a lawyer, but I loved filling people’s souls with happiness even more.
I bent down when I felt my fur baby. “Hi, Pepper.” He nudged my leg with his nose. I rubbed my hand over his salt-and-pepper fur and looked into his big brown eyes. His cute and fuzzy mustache tickled my face as he gave me a kiss. “You’re a good boy.”
“How was Babette?” Bunny asked from behind the counter, which she was wiping with a rag. The Bean Hive apron was tied tightly around her girth—she was such a grandmotherly figure.
“She was good. She’s busy with the Phillips’s wedding.” I gave little information because I could tell she was fishing for some good gossip.
“Hi, Aunt Roxy.” Timmy had a broom pan in his hand. “I’ve been workin’.” He yawned.
“You have?” I looked at Bunny with big eyes.
“What? He wanted to help, and I needed it. Those early-morning people are half asleep when they come in here. They make a mess, spilling coffee and crumbs all over. I bet they don’t treat their houses that way,” she grumbled under her breath and made her way over to a table to clean it off.
Before she put the salt and pepper shakers back in the middle of the table, she polished the cow-shaped dairy creamer holders that I’d gotten from Wild and Whimsy Antique then rubbed her hands on her apron. “I’ve put a couple more of the coffee-mocha Bundt cakes in the oven because those slices are going fast.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, guiding a very sleepy little boy over to one of the couches.
Timmy fussed when he realized what I was doing, but he climbed up on the couch, and I could have sworn he was asleep before his head hit the cushion. His little sheriff’s badge fell on the floor. I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket. I took one of the quilts off of the old wooden ladder I used for a couple of blankets and as a magazine rack and draped it over him.
Pepper jumped up and curled his furry little body into the bend of Timmy’s legs.
“See? I wore him out for you.” Bunny chuckled. “Now you can get more work done.”
I glanced over the glass counter in the back of the shop and noticed that I needed to refill the goodies. “It looks like I need to amp up my production with the tourists back in town,” I said.
“They seem to get here earlier and earlier each year.” Bunny made a very good observation.
“I don’t blame them. When I would come to spend my summers with Aunt Maxi, I thought Honey Springs was a slice right out of heaven.” I let out a long happy sigh.
“Have you got this week’s lunch menu ready to go?” she asked, standing over the tea bar. She bent down, opened the two front doors of the cabinet, and refilled the items that needed it. She was quick to refill, clean, and do anything around the shop.
“I do.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “You think the chicken and waffles was good, wait until you taste the sunny summer soup.”
Just the sound of it put a smile on both of our faces.
“I wanted something that I could easily thaw in a pot because I’m going to be spending every night this week just being in my cabin.” I tried not to show too much excitement, but I couldn’t stop my grin from rolling my lips over my teeth.
“Tonight’s the night, huh?” Bunny asked, clasping her hands together. “I just love working here and keeping up with you young whippersnappers.” She stood up and waddled back to the counter. She didn’t need the money I paid her. She claimed she just liked getting out of the house in the morning knowing she had someplace to go. It was a perfect union between us.
“I love having you.” I turned, poured two cups of the Bean Hive’s Highlander grog, and leaned on the counter, pushing one to Bunny. We stood there in silence, enjoying our drinks. I looked out over the shop at the wooden-pallet furniture, comfy seating, and old pieces of antiques I’d picked up from Wild and Whimsy Antiques and forgot for a minute about all the cooking I had to get done. I was happy. Honey Springs had finally become my home.
“Are you going to the wedding?” Bunny asked.
“I wasn’t invited, but Patrick was,” I noted, taking another sip. “I guess I’m his other.” I held my hand in the air and wiggled my ring finger. “Since I’m not from here, I’m sure she didn’t invite me because she really doesn’t know me.” I looked at Bunny and smiled. “Though we are thinking about doing a coffee bar at the wedding.”
“Coffee bar? Whoever heard of that?” Bunny held a hand to her heart. “Well, aren’t you something? What is a coffee bar?”
“Apparently, Pam has.” I shrugged and brought the cup back up to my lips. “I’ve read in some of the wedding magazines that coffee bars are just as popular as liquor bars.”
“Wedding magazines? Have you been looking at wedding magazines?” The voice that come out of nowhere made me squish my eyes closed.
“I’ve got to start looking around to see who’s listening before I open my big mouth,” I joked, turning to face Aunt Maxi. I wagged a finger at her. “Don’t be going and getting big ideas.”
“What good is that ring if it really doesn’t signal nothin’?” Her disapproval of my long engagement was apparent in the tone of her voice.
She used her fingers to fluff her short hair so that it stuck straight up. She lifted the front flap of her messenger bag and dug out a can of hairspray that said “very stiff hold” in bright-pink letters.
“Don’t you spray that stuff in here.” I waved my hand in front of my nose to clear the air, since she clearly wasn’t going to listen to me. “Stop,” I protested every time she pushed the aerosol button down. “If my customers want to smell hair products, they can meander right on down the boardwalk to The Honey Comb.”
I sucked in a deep breath and turned to go into the swinging door between the shop and the kitchen. The glass counter wasn’t going to fill itself up with goodies. Pepper scurried along next to me.
“I’m not kidding. Everyone that’s gotten engaged after you has either gotten married, or is getting married, or has set a date. Can’t you just set a date?” she begged as she walked on my heels into the industrial freezer. “Patrick Cane is still the most eligible bachelor until ‘I do’ comes out of his mouth. Without a date, he can’t say ‘I do.’”
“Here.” I dragged a tray of chocolate-cherry scones that were a customer favorite and that I liked to keep on hand for times just like this. “Take those out there and put them in the oven.”
Aunt Maxi lingered a second too long.
“Patrick and I are just fine. Now that the cabin is finished and I get to move out of your and mom’s house, I’ll be able to think about things outside of my living arrangements.” It wasn’t a promise to her that I’d set a date. It was a promise that I had more time.
“Your cabin is ready?” she asked and blinked rapidly. There was a little sadness in her voice. “I was enjoying having you stay with me, like old times when you were a little girl.”
“I loved it too, and I really appreciate it.” I walked out of the freezer with my hands full of trays of scones. “I’m so ready to get settled back in, and so is Pepper.”
Pepper’s floppy ear perked up when I said his name.
“Ain’t that right, Pepper? Me and you want our house back.” I sent smooches his way. He danced on the tile floor in delight.
When I looked up, Aunt Maxi had already put the trays in the oven and turned the manual click timer on. She looked at me with a sadness in her heavily-blue-shadowed eyelids. She wore red rouge in a perfect circle on each of her cheeks, and they looked like little clown noses.
“Stop it.
” I hurried over to her and wrapped my arms around her. “We’ll still see each other just as much.”
“Not with Penny around. She’s be stopping by and taking up all your time like she did before the fire.”
“You know me and Mama. We can’t be around each other for long periods.” I gave her a good squeeze before I her out of the hugs.
Penny Bloom, my mama, wasn’t a big fan of Honey Springs when I was a little girl. She never came to visit Aunt Maxi with me and my dad. It was the whole sister-in-law thing—they never got along and were very jealous of my dad’s affection. He was the perfect man, and I’d missed him so much since he died. It was comforting knowing that I was going to marry Patrick, because my dad knew him and they really liked each other. I couldn’t help but feel good in knowing he was looking down on us with a big grin and a thumbs-up.
Regardless, Mama had decided to move here a few months before. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with her life in Honey Springs, but she found a calling in the real estate industry. She’d been doing really well, and it kept her out of my hair. She and Aunt Maxi had reached a truce. Despite their differences, I had to say that I was pretty proud of the effort they’d put in to finding a new common ground.
“Guess what I might be doing for Pam Horton’s wedding?” It was something that was going to pick Aunt Maxi’s mood right up. She loved to brag about me and the Bean Hive. After all, she did own the building where my coffee shop was located. All the marketing and business we could get was welcomed.
“Fighting for the bouquet?” She was relentless. “They say that whoever catches the bouquet will be the next to get married.” She crossed her fingers and held them up in the air.
“Finger cross all you want, but I won’t be in that ridiculous crowd to catch any silly flower arrangement. Babette Cliff said something about Pam wanting a specialty coffee bar for the reception,” I said.
“Coffee bar? We live in Honey Springs. Not some highfalutin city like New York, where they pay way too much for watered down drinks.”