Family by Design

by Bonnie K. Winn

  Lillian nodded vigorously. “I always said you ought to open your shop.”

  Maddie kissed her mother’s delicate cheek. “And you were right.”

  “Will it be this busy all the time?” Chrissy asked.

  “Probably not,” Maddie answered realistically. “It’s a novelty right now, but that’s okay. I never expected to have steady traffic like the café does.” The local dining spot was open before dawn and stayed open until well after the dinner hour. But the café had a small staff, not a sole proprietor. Those hours weren’t feasible for either her type of business or life. Lillian needed a relatively early dinner because she went to bed soon after. And Maddie wasn’t going to neglect her mother in favor of the Tea Cart. “Chrissy, I bet with all the commotion, you didn’t get to your homework.”

  “We did numbers,” Chrissy mumbled.

  Numbers? Looking closer, Maddie saw a completed math homework sheet.

  “Mrs. Lillian helped,” Chrissy admitted.

  Her mother had always been a whiz at math. Funny how she could remember to calculate but didn’t have a clue what she’d eaten for breakfast. “That’s great. I didn’t want the opening to interfere with your schoolwork.” Chrissy’s performance at school had improved slightly but was nowhere near the straight A’s she used to bring home.

  “Are we going to have cake for dinner?” Chrissy asked.

  Laughing, Maddie shook her head. Delighted that the child had any interest in eating, she smiled. “Knowing today would be crazy, I made lasagna. Just have to warm it up.”

  “Uncle James isn’t home yet.”

  Being the city’s sole neurologist, J.C.’s hours weren’t predictable. He could come home promptly at six or in the wee hours of the night. “Lasagna reheats well.”

  “A lot of times it’s better the second time around,” Lillian commented.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs, get things going? I’ll stick the lasagna in the oven. We can pick out a DVD to watch or a game to play.”

  Chrissy fetched Lillian’s wheelchair from where it was stashed nearby. The child was becoming territorial about Lillian, which pleased Maddie. Maybe it was the transition Chrissy needed to accept supervisory adults other than her parents. J.C. and Maddie had offered countless times to help Chrissy with her homework and she always refused; yet today she had allowed Lillian to help. Apparently she didn’t view Lillian as a threat, someone who would take her mother’s place. Each step, no matter how minuscule, was a step. Although Chrissy might not realize it, Maddie knew the Lord was watching over her. His plan had given them all renewed hope.

  While Chrissy pushed Lillian’s chair toward the elevator, Maddie’s gaze strayed out the window onto Main Street. J.C. wasn’t anywhere in sight. Remembering his strained behavior the past few weeks, she wondered if the same was true of him. Was he feeling hope? Or regret? Regret for allowing her this much access in his life?

  “Are you coming?” Chrissy called out.

  “You go ahead. I have to put some things away, but I’ll be up in a few minutes.” However, after the elevator doors closed, Maddie didn’t move, instead holding a dishcloth as she stared outside. And hated the lump forming in the pit of her stomach.

  J.C. had debated staying late at the office, catching up on notes, but he knew it was a delaying tactic that wasn’t fair to Chrissy. He’d barely seen her for five minutes early that morning. The entire building had been in a mild frenzy as the Tea Cart prepared for the big launch. He could have stolen a few minutes to stop by, but he’d chosen to extend his hospital rounds.

  Stepping inside the shop, J.C. saw that Maddie had left two lamps aglow on each side of the main room, just enough to softly illuminate the tidy area. The light above the stairwell was also left on. For him?

  Knowing he couldn’t delay any longer, J.C. mounted the steps. The door to the Carters’ apartment was ajar. Reaching his own, he saw a note tacked near eye level. Lasagna for dinner. Chrissy’s with us. Maddie

  He pushed open the door. The last specks of light from the sunset had faded. And the apartment was dark. Suiting his mood, J.C. didn’t turn on a lamp. Enough light from the corridor spilled inside so that he could see the furniture. Dropping his briefcase on a chair, he shrugged out of his jacket, loosened his tie and pulled it off.

  Voices from the other apartment drifted toward him, small snatches of conversation, a little laughter. Feeling too much like a sulky schoolboy, J.C. forced himself to cross the hall. In a glance, he could see the table was set for four. Looked like they hadn’t eaten yet.

  Maddie spotted him first. Although smiling, she looked hesitant. Chrissy and Lillian were engaged in what appeared to be an intense checkers match.

  “No moves left!” Chrissy announced triumphantly. She glanced up just then, noticed him and quieted.

  He couldn’t allow his reservations about Maddie to affect how he treated his niece. “You still the all-time checkers champ?”

  A small smile emerged.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Maddie added. “Not that the menu’s a surprise. I put that in the note. We have salad and garlic bread, too.”

  J.C. wondered why she sounded so nervous. “So how’d the grand opening go?”

  “Good. Lots of people. Of course there won’t be that many people every day. The shop’s a novelty right now. And I’m not sure the menu’s male-friendly. Little sandwiches, little desserts, little …” She swallowed. “Little stuff … you know.”

  She didn’t usually prattle like this. He glanced across the room. “Did everybody cope well?”

  “Mother enjoyed all the company and Chrissy fit right in. That was after school, of course. Because today’s Friday and she had school. She won’t tomorrow because it’ll be Saturday and …”

  J.C. looked back at Maddie. “Something wrong?”

  “No, no. What would be wrong?” She gripped her apron as though she expected hurricane-strength winds to tear it away.

  “Good.”

  “Dinner’s ready. We kept it warm—the lasagna, I mean. Warm salad wouldn’t taste good unless it was German potato salad or maybe a wilted salad that’s supposed to be warm. Oh, and the garlic bread, it’s warm.”

  Because Maddie looked ready to burst out of her own skin, he nodded. “You all could have eaten without me.”

  She waved toward the pristine china on the table. “No bother.”

  Looked like she’d gone to enough trouble, especially after the adrenaline-draining day. She had to be tired. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s eat first, argue later.”

  “We don’t have to argue—”

  “Did you say something about lasagna?”

  “Oh! Yes. It’s vegetarian. Mom? Chrissy? Dinner’s ready.” She glanced at J.C. “I’ll just grab the salad and pitcher of tea.”

  When Chrissy was in hearing distance, he leaned close, whispering. “What’s up with Maddie?”

  Chrissy shrugged, her usual helpful self.

  Wouldn’t do any good to question Lillian since she couldn’t remember the day.

  He gestured to Chrissy. “Let’s wash our hands.”

  She rolled her eyes but complied. Once his own hands were clean, too, they rejoined the others. Maddie fussed over the table settings, repositioning the serving dishes.

  After he recited the blessing over their meal, J.C. accepted a hefty portion of the fragrant lasagna. “So, how many people did you have at the shop today?”

  Maddie dropped the offset spatula she was using to serve the main dish. Recovering, she dabbed at the sauce that had spilled on the yellow tablecloth. “I don’t know exactly. Emma McAllister was the first customer. Sam was next. She wanted to be the very first one, but Emma got here a little before the actual opening time. Of course the door was unlocked and it wasn’t a big deal that she came early.” Maddie finally paused to breathe. “And she brought the twins. They sat at one of the kid-size tables.”

  J.C. began to wond
er if she’d swallowed a tape recorder that she couldn’t turn off. “Was business steady then?”

  “All day. It was amazing. I kept waiting for the lull.” This time when Maddie paused, she seemed to actually collect her thoughts before she resumed speaking. “It’s a novelty for Rosewood.”

  “And it fills a niche. The town’s never had an eatery that’s targeted for women. Café’s good, but not all feminine.”

  She frowned. “So the men won’t like the Tea Cart at all?”

  “Didn’t say that. But you told me yourself that more women tend to frequent tea shops. It’s not easy to find a new target market these days. Everything’s saturated. You came up with something new for the town.”

  Her cheeks flushed a light pink. “I suppose it’s hard to believe it’s really happening. I dreamed about opening this shop for so long …” Maddie reached over, covering Lillian’s hand. “Mom always believed it would work.”

  Lillian smiled but she looked tired. “Maddie can do anything she sets her mind to.”

  “Did you get a nap today?” J.C. questioned.

  When Lillian looked blank, Maddie answered for her. “No. And she’s usually in bed about now.”

  He frowned. “You shouldn’t have waited dinner on me.”

  Chastened, Maddie looked down. “I just thought …” She cleared her throat. “You’re right, of course. I was only thinking of myself.”

  Feeling as though he had kicked a puppy, J.C. laid his fork down. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Maddie’s lips trembled slightly before she firmed them together in a grim line. “I need to keep my priorities in order. Mom is my top priority.” She looked down at her own untouched plate. “You should eat the lasagna while it’s hot.”

  Noticing that Chrissy was staring at him, J.C. picked up his fork. “This is good, isn’t it, Chrissy?”

  “You haven’t tasted it yet,” she pointed out.

  Wincing inside, he loaded his fork. “Dig in.”

  While he chewed, Chrissy picked at her food, finally edging a little bit of lasagna on her fork.

  “It’s really good,” J.C. declared.

  Maddie kept her gaze on her own plate.

  Feeling even worse, J.C. searched for something, anything to say. “You’ll probably have an even bigger turnout tomorrow.”

  Maddie blanched, then looked at Lillian.

  J.C. belatedly realized he had said exactly the wrong thing. “I’ll be around tomorrow so Lillian and I can hang out while you’re in the shop.”

  Still looking wounded, Maddie stared at him.

  “What do you say, Lillian?” he asked.

  “I’m tired, Maddie.”

  Looking even more guilty, Maddie pushed her chair back. “Come on, Mom. Let’s get you ready for bed. I’ll bring in a cup of warm milk.”

  Lillian’s shoulders drooped as Maddie led her away.

  “Jiminy …” Chrissy muttered.

  “What?”

  “You don’t know?” she questioned, wide-eyed.

  J.C. knew all right. He had managed to ruin the celebratory dinner. Not to mention causing Maddie to feel as though she had neglected her mother. He just hated that his nine-year-old niece had figured it out before he had.

  The following morning, the shop was packed within fifteen minutes after opening time. It seemed that all of Rosewood had turned out to see the newest business on Main Street. A quirk, Maddie kept telling herself. Even when Samantha stepped behind the counter and pulled on an apron so she could help. Between them, they could barely keep up with all the orders. Lillian came down for a while, then J.C. took her back upstairs. Still feeling like the worst kind of daughter, Maddie fretted about Lillian until Samantha popped upstairs to check on her.

  “She’s fine,” Sam reported. “Watching a little TV, drifting off.”

  “Does she look tired?”

  “Maddie, stop it. So, one day out of how many? Thousands? You focused more on yourself than your mother and she got tired. That is in no way a terrible thing. Not to mention, if J.C. had gotten back from work sooner, dinner wouldn’t have been so late. I think I need to have a talk with him and—”

  “No! That’ll just make things worse.”

  “This arrangement is supposed to help all of you, not just him. Did you complain when you kept Chrissy overnight because he had to go to the hospital? No. It won’t hurt him to help out.”

  Exasperated, Maddie stared at her friend. “Do I have to remind you who funded this shop? Who’s letting us live here for free?”

  Samantha grumbled beneath her breath, then solidly met Maddie’s gaze. “Fine. He did a good thing, but you can’t feel indebted forever.”

  “Business probably won’t be this steady after the newness wears off anyway.”

  “So now you’re hoping your business fails?”

  “No, I just need to clone myself.”

  “Or hire someone to help when you can afford it. Meanwhile, I’ll volunteer.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Want to try and stop me?” Samantha retorted.

  “I’ve already imposed too much. You’ve watched Mom a lot lately.”

  “I wouldn’t have made it when I came back to Rosewood if the whole town hadn’t pitched in and helped, you included. Let me give back, just a little.”

  Maddie guessed she would never be able to convince her friend otherwise. “Not too much, though, okay?”

  Samantha grinned. “I’m not punching a time clock.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Maddie!” Sam grabbed her arm, her grin gone. “Look.”

  Owen stalked toward her as though he owned the shop.

  “Will you watch the counter?”

  “Yes, and if you need backup, holler.” Sam lifted her cane as though it was a sword.

  “That probably won’t be necessary.” Maddie stepped from behind the counter, suddenly feeling vulnerable, uncomfortable in her own place. Realizing that, she straightened her shoulders.

  Without asking, Owen took her elbow, steering her toward the door.

  Maddie tried to shake off his grasp, but he tightened it further. Not wanting to cause a scene, she waited until they were outside on the sidewalk. Yanking her arm away, she glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Better question. What do you think you’re doing?”

  Bewildered, she gaped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You couldn’t marry me because your mother was your first concern. Forget that we were engaged, planning a wedding. You called everything off because of her.”

  She blinked. “Why are you bringing all this up now? It’s ancient history.”

  He flung his arm in the direction of the shop, then stood far too close, his face in hers. “Really? What do you call this?”

  Jerking her head back, she retreated, needing more space between them. “It’s my tea shop.”

  “Exactly!” Triumph filled his voice. “The one you couldn’t open because of your mother.”

  “So?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice gritty.

  Appalled, she wondered what was wrong with him. A week ago he’d tried to talk to her again and she had escaped when his cell phone rang. Fortunately, she thought to lock the front door so he couldn’t follow. He had knocked, then rattled the doorknob, finally leaving. She had thought it would be the last of him.

  “If you can open a shop, you can get married!”

  “Owen, it’s been years. You didn’t even try to keep in touch.” She didn’t remind him that he was the one who issued the ultimatum.

  “Because you insisted your mother was more important.” The way his voice curled when he said mother made it sound like an ugly word. “Clearly that’s not true.”

  Still confused, she wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. “If you want to be friends—”

  “Friends?” he snarled.

  Maddie took another step backward. “Then what?”


  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a ring, the two-carat, emerald-shaped diamond she had returned to him.

  She shook her head. “Surely you’ve moved on?”

  “Don’t you have that backward?” Again, he flung his arm toward the shop. “You’re the one moving on.”

  “Owen, I don’t know what this is about, but I’m in the middle of my grand opening.” She turned away from him.

  “This isn’t over.” The anger in his voice made his words sound like a threat.

  A chill traveled up her spine. Irritated, she shook her head, dismissing him. She whipped open the door, but refused to give him the satisfaction of running inside.

  “What did he want?” Samantha demanded, in full mother bear mode.

  “I’m not really sure. Apparently he’s still mad because I’ve opened my own business.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with him!”

  “You and I know that, but I’m not sure Owen’s playing with a full deck. He’s acting as though our engagement was on hold all this time.”

  Frowning, Samantha looked out through the front window. “That’s kind of scary.”

  “No, sad maybe.”

  “I don’t know …”

  “Probably just a power thing, Sam. What’s really sad is that I didn’t see one atom of the man I used to know.”

  “Just be glad he’s out of your life.”

  Maddie glanced out the bay window. She hoped Sam was right.

  Chapter Ten

  Spring in Rosewood elicited fields of wildflowers at the outskirts of town and the blooming of multihued azaleas in nearly every garden in town. Sudden downpours of rain could trigger flash floods in the arroyos, but sunshine filled Sunday’s sky.

  Lillian’s new medications were working pretty well, enough so that Maddie decided it was time to try taking her mother to church again. J.C.’s schedule was clear and he offered to drive. His SUV was more suited to carrying four adults and a wheelchair than her small Honda.

  When they arrived, Chrissy dragged her feet, dawdling as they walked into the Sunday school building. Maddie placed a worn, familiar Bible in her mother’s lap. It was one thing Lillian had never forgotten. Maddie decided to stay with her mother in the older ladies’ class. If she coped well, Maddie hoped Lillian could interact with the other members. As the hour passed, Lillian’s attention wandered, but she was content.