A Father's Second Chance (Contemporay Christian Romance)

by Mindy Obenhaus

  “Later this afternoon. Maybe.” Using the sleeve of his denim work shirt, he wiped the sweat from his brow. “We’re about done with the trim. Then we’ll need to pull out the carpet.”

  “Good. I know you have an order in which you need to do things, but I can’t wait to get a feel for how things are going to look.”

  “I understand.” He’d be the same way. He eyed the two interior walls. Just getting rid of one would open things up. Perhaps he’d consider throwing her a bone.

  “I made a quick run to the hardware store.” In her hand, she fanned out several paint chips. “What do you think? Should I go with a gray-toned neutral or stick with your basic off-white?”

  Women. Only a few hours into the job and she was ready to decorate. “It’s a little early to be thinking about paint.”

  “I know, but I’m getting restless. It’s part of the big picture, you know?”

  “Oh, I get it. Still, there are some things you’re going to want to consider.” He pointed to the south wall with its drooping wallpaper. “This building is made of stone, so you might want to think about keeping some of the exterior walls exposed.”

  “Ooh, great idea.” Her face lit with excitement. “The stone will add some rustic charm.”

  “Yep. And you wanted to remain true to the character of the building.”

  She slid the paint colors back into one neat stack. “I guess I’ll just have to wait, then.” She peered up at him through those long lashes. “Not that it’ll be easy.”

  “Anything worth waiting for never is.”

  Her cell phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket. “Hey, Karla.” She paused. “Okay, I’m on my way down.” Tucking her phone away, she looked at him. “Lunch crowd is starting to arrive.”

  “That late already?” He eyed his watch. Eleven forty. “Guess I’d better get a move on. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.” He headed into the hallway, hoping she’d take a hint. The more times he had to stop and cater to her, the longer this project was going to take.

  She smiled and headed for the main door. “I know you do.” She shoved it open. “I’ll check in with you later.”

  He could hardly wait.

  Lucky for him, lunchtime in the restaurant must have been busy. Now, as Logan carried rolls of worn-out, nasty carpeting to the Dumpster outside, Gage set his sights on a wall between one of the bathrooms and a guest room. Given the musty smell that permeated the entire space, he suspected water damage.

  After donning a dust mask, he butted the wall with a sledgehammer, crumbling the plaster. A few more blows and he was able to get at the thin, narrow strips of wood behind it with a pry bar.

  “Dude, you started without me.”

  Gage eyed his helper. “Grab a mask.”

  Logan complied, then picked up the discarded sledgehammer and continued to send dust flying while Gage pulled off the laths between the studs.

  When they exposed the plumbing, he motioned for Logan to back off. “I was afraid of that.”

  He snagged the flashlight from his back pocket and moved in for a closer look. Plaster dust swirled around him, coating his safety glasses. He wiped it away.

  “Gage?” Celeste’s voice trailed down the hall. The woman had terrible timing.

  Lowering the light, he met her at the door.

  “There you—” Her smile evaporated, her gaze narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

  Moving past her, he grabbed another mask from the box and handed it to her. “Put this on.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do as I say.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.

  Celeste scowled, but obeyed, staying with him as he reentered the guest room.

  Her smile returned when she saw the partially demolished wall. “I thought things had gotten noisier up here.” She visually traced the opening. “It feels bigger already.”

  “Did you happen to look over that list of variables I included in my quote?”

  “Yes.” She shifted from one foot to the other. Crossed her arms over her chest. “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “Asbestos.”

  A flood of emotions played across her face as she processed the word. Disbelief, fear and, finally, resignation.

  “We can’t do anything else until we get a removal team in here.” He didn’t like saying it, but it had to be said. “And it won’t be cheap.”

  Contemplative, she nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “Are there people in the area who can do this sort of thing?”

  “There’s an outfit in Montrose I’ve used before.”

  “How long will the removal take?”

  “A couple days to a week. Just depends how much there is.”

  “And you can’t do any work until they’re done?”

  He shook his head, surprised at how well she was taking things. “Not until they’ve tested the air to make sure we’re clear.”

  “How soon do you think they can get out here?”

  “Won’t know until I call them.”

  “Then let’s go ahead and do that.”

  “I’ll get right on it.” Of course, it was already Thursday, so he doubted they’d be able to get anyone out before Monday.

  Holding a hand over her mask, Celeste moved in for a closer look.

  He pointed to the wrapped pipes. “This is the problem area.”

  “What about the restaurant? Will it be affected?”

  He had a feeling her calm demeanor was about to change. “That’ll be up to the inspector.” His gaze met hers. “But you might have to close for a while.”

  * * *

  Celeste dunked the bag of herbal tea into the cup of hot water, feeling as though she was in a daze. News that she might have to close the restaurant, even for a short time, had kept her awake much of the night.

  Her gaze traveled over the cozy dining room. Until six months ago, she hadn’t laid eyes on it in over twenty years. But the moment she did, something sparked to life inside her. A feeling she’d never experienced before. As if she was home.

  Since then, Granny’s Kitchen had consumed her every thought, and nearly every waking moment had been spent here. What would she do if they forced her to close her doors?

  At least the inspector wasn’t due until Monday, which meant Cupcake Mania was safe. Good thing, too. What she’d originally conceived as a small class for kids had turned into a full-blown event. Since they were making the cupcakes, filling and frostings anyway, Karla suggested they make extras to sell. After all, cupcakes were all the rage, yet no one in Ouray sold them. If she had to cancel...

  Cease striving, and know that I am God.

  The verse from Psalms played across her heart, imparting peace into her spirit. She’d trusted God when He’d nudged her to take ownership of Granny’s Kitchen. And she would trust Him now.

  She scooped the cup and saucer in one hand then grabbed a platter of glazed vanilla scones, miniature cinnamon rolls and some sliced fruit with the other and made her way to the booth where Gage and Blakely were already engaged in conversation. Hopefully the lull between breakfast and lunch would last long enough for the three of them to make some much-needed progress on the fall festival.

  “Here you go.” She set the tea in front of her friend, eyeing Gage’s half-empty coffee cup. “Care for a refill?”

  He held up his hand. “No, I’m good.”

  “These look delicious.” Blakely selected a petite scone and set it on one of the three small white plates Celeste put out earlier.

  “I know what I’m going for.” Gage snagged a roll.

  Celeste scooted in beside Blakely and picked up her plate. “Since I haven’t had any breakfast, I’ll take one of everything.” She’d been too wound up to eat earlier. But now that God had reminded her Wh
o was in charge, her appetite returned with a vengeance.

  They ate in silence for a moment. Finally, Blakely wiped her hands on a napkin and opened up the spiral notebook she’d brought with her.

  “I came up with a list of games.” She laid the notebook in the middle of the table. “You guys are welcome to add or delete whatever you like.” Using her pen as a pointer... “The cake walk is always popular.” She glanced between Celeste and Gage. “But we’ll need people to donate baked goods.”

  Celeste gestured to the platter between them. “You know you can count on me.”

  “My mom’s always happy to donate.”

  Blakely grinned. “And with her new kitchen, I’m sure Taryn will welcome any excuse to bake.”

  “Add in all the ladies from the churches and I think we’re covered.” Celeste popped a strawberry in her mouth.

  “Good point.” Blakely continued down the list. “The little ones like the lollipop tree. They haven’t had it in a few years, though. Apparently the tree got lost somewhere along the line.”

  “I can make a new one.” Gage reached for a second roll.

  Blakely eyed him. “Could I talk you into making a backdrop for the beanbag toss, too?”

  “Sure. While I’m at it, may as well make one for the football toss. That tends to draw the older kids.” He grinned. “Especially the boys trying to show off for the girls.”

  “Or vice versa,” said Celeste.

  The playful look Gage sent her made her squirm. As though he’d just uncovered some deep, dark secret she’d been withholding.

  “That explains a lot.” Eyeing her over the rim of his mug, he took a swig of coffee.

  Clearing her throat, she returned her attention to an amused Blakely. “What other games did you have in mind?” She focused on the list. “A tug-of-war?”

  “Yes. Boys against girls, policemen against firemen.” Blakely reached for a melon slice. “But the competition between moms and dads is always the high point of the day.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Excitement bubbled inside Celeste. Growing up in a large suburb outside Fort Worth, she missed out on the sense of community that came from living in a small town. True, there were smaller communities within the large, like churches and schools, but the idea of an entire town banding together for a single event was something she’d never been a part of—until she came to Ouray.

  “Gage—” Blakely shifted her attention “—did you talk with your friend about the inflatables?”

  “Not yet.” He pulled his cell from the breast pocket of his T-shirt and began to type. “But I’m making a note to do it this afternoon.”

  “Great.”

  Before he could finish, his cell phone rang. Confusion seemed to knit his brow as he looked at the number. “Excuse me, ladies.” He pushed out of the booth. “Hello?”

  “I’ll make some calls next week, see if I can’t drum up volunteers and donations.” At least it would keep her busy while the restaurant was closed. Give her a sense of purpose instead of hanging around her condo in her pajamas.

  “Excellent. Tell the volunteers we’ll plan a workday for next weekend.” Blakely pulled some folded papers from the front of her notebook and handed them to Celeste. “Here’s a list of businesses that have made donations in the past. Things like candy and small trinkets for prizes, food and drinks for concessions—”

  “What kind of food do y’all usually have?”

  “The typical fair-type stuff. Burgers, hot dogs, nachos—”

  “Celeste?”

  She looked up as Gage slid in across from them again.

  “That was the inspector. He’s had a cancellation, so he’ll be here at one o’clock.”

  “Inspector? For what?” Blakely’s gaze darted between them.

  “Asbestos,” Gage offered before she could respond, which was probably good since she was still reeling from his announcement. What if they shut her down today? Cupcake Mania had a full slate of attendees. It would break her heart to cancel.

  “Oh.” Blakely nodded. “Well, it’s not like you’re the first one to deal with it. With all of our historic buildings, it’s kind of commonplace.”

  Celeste folded her hands atop the table. “I suppose. But dealing with it sure is going to be a pain. According to Gage—” she nodded in his direction “—I might even have to close the restaurant.”

  “What? They can’t do that. Where else will I get my cinnamon roll and cookie fixes?” A smile broke through Blakely’s serious expression. “I’m only half kidding, you know.”

  Celeste patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can keep you covered.”

  Blakely grimaced then, reaching a hand around to her back.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Trent says it’s Braxton Hicks contractions.”

  “Ah, yes. False labor. I remember it well.”

  Both Celeste and Blakely sent Gage a curious look.

  “Not from personal experience. Tracy had them with Emma.”

  Celeste knew nothing about pregnancy and the kinds of things a woman went through. Yet, despite her mother’s insistence otherwise, it was something she one day hoped to experience. Of course, to do that she’d need a husband. Someone she loved and trusted with her whole heart.

  Just thinking about it made her palms grow sweaty.

  Perhaps her mother was right.

  Celeste was better off alone.

  Chapter Six

  The cold, rainy weather outside Saturday did little to dampen Celeste’s spirits. The inspector had confirmed that she would have to close during the asbestos removal—not to mention remove everything from the restaurant. However, the process wouldn’t start until Monday. So not only was Cupcake Mania a go, it was on its way to being a huge success.

  “This was a wonderful idea, Celeste.” Gage’s mother, Bonnie, took the linen napkin from her lap and laid it on the table. She’d brought the girls for the class, but decided to stay. “Not just for the kids, but to have an afternoon tea on a day like today...” Laying a hand to her chest, she let go a satisfied sigh. “Such a treat. And that double dark chocolate cupcake was to die for.”

  Comments like that always made Celeste smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She glanced around the dining room. She’d never seen the place so crowded at three in the afternoon. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to bring in extra waitstaff. “It has been fun.”

  “Fun? This is downright delightful. Talk about a nice change of pace.” Bonnie brushed her dark brown bangs to one side. “You should consider doing this more often.”

  Given the overwhelming response, she’d been contemplating the same thing.

  Turning in her seat, Bonnie watched the ten children huddled around the long plastic-covered table in the center of the dining room.

  Heather, Karla’s daughter, helped Emma swirl the buttercream frosting atop her latest masterpiece. Celeste had hired the teenager to assist with the kids. After all, with decorator bags full of frostings and fillings, they were only one squirt away from disaster.

  “Just look at how focused they all are.” Bonnie draped an arm over the back of her chair. “I was afraid it might be chaos in here, but they’ve been so well behaved.”

  “Honestly, I’m a little surprised myself. I mean, there’s been just as much frosting going into their mouths as there has on the cupcakes.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Would you like me to take this stuff out of your way?” Celeste gestured to the tea service on the table.

  “Yes, please.” Bonnie stood. “I need to visit the little girl’s room anyway.”

  After clearing the table, Celeste went to check on her budding pastry chefs. She couldn’t have asked for a better group of kids. Even the two reluctant boys whose
mother practically dragged them in seemed to be enjoying themselves. The younger of the two had chocolate frosting smeared across his left cheek and his tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth as he added an abundance of colorful sprinkles to his chocolate creation.

  On the other side of the table, Cassidy applied pink sugar pearls one by one to a strawberry cupcake topped with white buttercream frosting.

  Beside Cassidy, her friend Bella squeezed violet-tinted buttercream onto a third chocolate cupcake. Obviously Bella was a girl who knew what she liked and would not be swayed otherwise.

  Shifting her attention to Emma, Celeste noted that the child had grown uncharacteristically quiet. Her face was a little flushed, too.

  She rounded the table to check on Gage’s youngest, but Bonnie cut her off.

  “Celeste, we have a little problem.” She pulled Celeste aside and leaned closer. “One of the toilets is overflowing in the ladies’ room,” she whispered.

  “What?” Celeste jerked her head in the direction of the bathroom.

  “I tried to turn off the water but the valve wouldn’t budge.”

  Pushing up the sleeves of her sweater, Celeste strode toward the restroom with Bonnie close on her heels. Inside, water poured from the handicapped stall, covering the hexagonal floor tiles and drawing closer and closer to the door. She tiptoed as quick as she could through the water and into the stall. Reaching behind the commode, she gripped the oblong-shaped handle.

  Righty tighty, lefty loosey.

  She turned the handle clockwise. Or attempted to, anyway. “I can’t get it either.” Maybe the old adage didn’t apply to toilets. Just to be sure, she tried counterclockwise. Nothing.

  Tiptoeing back out, she looked at Bonnie. “I’m going to need a plumber.”

  “Nonsense.” Bonnie placed an arm around Celeste’s shoulder and escorted her in the direction of the door. “I’ve already called Gage. He’ll be here in just a minute.”

  Celeste pulled free, turning back into the flooding bathroom. “I don’t have a minute.” By then the water would be drenching the carpet in the dining room. Carpet that was only six months old.

  “Honey, a plumber couldn’t get here any quicker.”