“Right, because it’s the only time you’ll ever try to tell me how I should live or what I should do? No thanks. I can’t believe I thought we could date, even for a while. I was right in high school— you and me is a terrible idea.” She gestured for him to leave.
Saying anything else was bound to make it all worse, so Austin stood and moved toward the door. “We’ll talk later.”
“No, we won’t.”
Desperation arched through Austin as he wondered how he could put it all back together again. Could he?
FAY’S THURSDAY STARTED AN HOUR earlier than usual as she prepared the day’s baking, plus did a quintuple batch of cookies for the Harvest Hurrah. She had taken a few minutes during the late morning lull the previous day to pop over to the area where the food booths would be set up and ensure that everything was ready.
As soon as Maria arrived for the morning rush, Fay was off again, to put out the paperwork at each booth and be available in case there were any problems as the food booths checked in. Today was the day they focused on children’s booths and kid-friendly fare and they would have a steady stream of munchkins coming through as the elementary school was bringing over their younger ones, and after school there were events and activities for everyone.
Normally she would have loved the noise and confusion, the delicious smells and sounds of games and activities, but she was too torn up about her conversation with Austin the previous night now. She hadn’t slept well, despite being exhausted, and struggled, knowing she wouldn’t get to bed early tonight, either.
Several other bakeries and donut makers were on hand to share their wares. Though Fay’s Café was being represented in the donut area, their name wasn’t on the ballot for best donut in town— that was one drawback of being in charge.
“How is everything coming?” Britta asked fifteen minutes before the first batch of children was expected from Echo Ridge Elementary.
“I think it’s good. There are a few people who won’t be here until later, but so far we haven’t had any major issues to deal with.” Fay put on a smile she didn’t feel, and watched Britta move toward the next booth.
Finally, she had everything ready to go, and all of the minor fires put out. A text from Maria said everything was going fine with Lilith at the café and Fay had nothing else to worry about— the perfect setting for letting her mind wander again to the previous night.
She had totally over-reacted on Austin. Not that she had been wrong, exactly— it was unreasonable for him to expect her to kiss and make up with her father based off of a small sliver of the story. On the other hand, she had been tired and stressed out about the Harvest Hurrah, and the way he made her feel scared her.
She was falling hard for Austin, and she didn’t know what to do about it. At first she had thought it was a phase, a lark— and surely he would feel the same way about it. The previous night, though, it had hurt her more deeply than she had expected possible when he told her she should make herself vulnerable and give her father a chance to talk. She couldn’t be that vulnerable, or be stuck in that position again. Hadn’t he heard anything she’d said?
In so many ways he understood her better than anyone, but then things like that... No, she was better off not trusting him, better if she backed off before the love became so tangled up in her that she couldn’t extricate herself. Love had never worked for her before. She and her mom had a barely better than civil relationship. Her dad had lied to her and cheated on her mom. More than one boyfriend had strayed.
Was there something wrong with her? Could she drive even-tempered Austin to break his number one rule, the way she had driven old boyfriends to cheat on her? The way her mother had driven her father to it? She didn’t think she could handle that.
“That’s a long frown,” a woman’s voice said to her right.
Fay glanced over to see Mrs. Tumnus taking the last couple of steps to the Fay’s Café booth. “Hey, sorry, I was letting my mind wander.”
“Not to happy things, apparently. I heard you were one of the featured artists in the gallery last night. How did it go?”
Fay brightened and took a moment to talk about how well the sales went and the compliments she received. “I had given up on ever getting into a gallery at all before I moved home. To not only get into one but have so many pieces in a single show was pretty amazing.”
“That’s so great. I love that you keep reaching for your dreams and finding what makes you happy. I wish more people would do that.”
“Thanks.” After Mrs. Tumnus moved on, she thought about what the woman had said. Was she doing what made her happy, or was she doing what she fell into? Was art her passion or her hobby? Was the café a passion, or just a way to pay the bills? The truth was, it had been both at one time or another. She couldn’t imagine her life without it, but she needed her art, too. It was the other side of who she was, what made her happy.
She supposed that was a good thing, since she couldn’t imagine things with Austin were ever going to be fully fixed after the total mess she’d made of things the previous night.
Even if she wanted to fix it. Which she didn’t.
Lunchtime came and went and the school children had gone back to the school. There was a break between events and many of the booth owners took a little time to look around the grounds at everyone else’s spots.
School was nearly out, Martha Jean had been declared the winner of the donut contest, and Fay anticipated that things would pick up again in another hour when parents brought their kids for the free children’s activities. And dinner.
She checked her watch— Lilith was going to help at the booth that afternoon when Hank went in for the evening shift.
Fay was thinking about making a late snack when she spotted her Uncle Jeremy sauntering in her direction, his hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his tan slacks.
“Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Fay greeted him with a hug, wishing they had time to talk for more than a few seconds the previous evening. “You caught us in the end-of-school lull so it’s pretty quiet at the moment.”
“Good. Then I timed it right.”
She smiled, then realized he wasn’t here for a leisurely chat. He had come for a reason, and he didn’t look like he was looking forward to it. “What’s going on? Did Sam back out of the event tomorrow and go home?”
Jeremy’s face took on a bit of a pained look. “I wish I understood what your big issue is with your father and why you won’t give him a break.”
“You know why. He lied to me for years. He ignored me for years. Now he thinks he can make it up to me with a smile?”
Patience slid onto Jeremy’s face— a sign he thought she was being obtuse. Since it was Jeremy, Fay didn’t let it make her defensive. Since her grandma died, he was the one person who could get away with telling her things like he saw them without Fay feeling like she was being picked on.
Still, she wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. “What is it? Do you honestly think I should listen to him?”
Jeremy took her hand and gave it a squeeze, the move loving and accepting. “Did you or did you not tell your father that he was not to talk to you again until he was prepared to be honest and straight with you?”
“You have to understand— ”
He waved a finger in the air to cut her off. “Did you, or did you not tell him that?”
“Yes. Ten years ago.”
“So, some people are idiots for longer than others.”
She knew he wasn’t done, so she clamped her jaw shut and waited for what came next.
“Fay, Your dad— ”
“Sam. He hasn’t been a dad to me in more than half my life. Mike has been my dad for almost all of that time, and he acts like it, giving me advice and love and attention. And checking in with me, even when I haven’t exactly been on the best of terms with Mom.” That hadn’t been necessary much since Fay returned to town, but in the early years after she moved to New York, he
had been the connection that helped tether her to home.
“You’re lucky to have a second dad, and one who has been there when Sam hasn’t been a great support for you. But don’t think Sam has forgotten you, just because he did what you asked.”
“Really? What has he done for me in the past decade?”
“You mean besides sending the child-support check, following your art accomplishments, oh, and giving up his half of the café so you could afford to buy it?”
Fay froze, staring at Jeremy for a long moment. “No, he didn’t.” She wasn’t sure at first if he could even hear the whispered protest over the sounds of people around them.
“Yeah, he did. And he convinced me to knock some cash off of my half of the price. I admit, it wasn’t hard to convince me. We both know how much you loved that café, how it was your safe place, your comfortable home when things at home weren’t so great, but he gave up his inheritance so you could have what would make you happy. He knew you weren’t happy in the city and needed to move home.”
Fay considered that for a long moment. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Would it have mattered? You weren’t ready to listen.”
Was she ready now? She didn’t know. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You know, you don’t have to let him into every facet of your life just because you listen to him once, but don’t you think you owe it to yourself— to both of you— to listen at least the one time?”
“I... thanks for telling me.” Fay could tell from his voice that he was done— he’d said everything he needed to say. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to wander through and get a feel for our booth space tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get some funnel cake while I’m at it.”
“You should do that.” She released his hand, realizing he’d been holding onto her, giving her comfort. So, time to focus on other things. She had a lot to think about.
She thought about what everyone had been telling her— Jeremy, Austin, her parents. Did they not understand, or was it time she unbent enough to actually listen to what they had to say?
THE CARNIVAL FOR THE Harvest Hurrah didn’t go as late on Thursday as it was scheduled for the other nights— which Fay was glad about. It meant she was able to fall into bed after only 19 hours of being up that day so she could sleep a solid six (she hoped) and start all over the next day. Thankfully, the café’s booth would be mostly burgers and fries— the usual fare— instead of pushing so many sweets, so she didn’t have to be up so early.
That was nice, since Fay still didn’t sleep fantastically well— not with the fight with Austin and discussions about Sam ringing in her head.
She was also thankful that today she would probably be too busy to spend much time thinking about that situation— even if he and Austin would both be at the Dutch oven cook-off.
A niggling thought had her double-checking the booth plans for the cook off and she closed her eyes. How had she ended up putting Sam right next to her sort-of boyfriend? Would they talk? Would Austin tell Sam she was an unreasonable witch while her father agreed? And why couldn’t she just be glad that she would have a chance to talk to them in public, where she wouldn’t have to make any decisions about whether or not to have an actual conversation with her father.
She had gotten a brief text message from Austin the previous day, but that was it. It definitely hadn’t been personal.
The day was bright and mid-sixties— the perfect set up for the events they had planned. Fay worked at the café through the breakfast rush, then turned it over to Maria and Dale for the rest of the day— it would be another long day, but Hank was at the carnival with her and the new waitress wouldn’t start until Monday— why had Fay waited so long to hire someone, anyway?
It was nearly eleven when Bret showed up at Fay’s booth to check in with her, and fifteen minutes later when Sam did the same. Both were in a hurry to get their things set up with their partners and Fay focused on her own space. Trying to do both was completely ridiculous. What had she been thinking again?
The lunch craziness petered out about two thirty and Fay left Hank to rest in the shaded booth, taking a tour of the Dutch oven entrants. Most were manned by only one person, especially at this stage when some weren’t even cooking yet. Fay came to a stop in front of the ski shop booth. Austin sat there, bent over one of the pots, stirring things. He glanced up at her and shot her a tentative smile. “I was hoping you would find a moment to stop by. Bret abandoned me about an hour ago. He’ll be back in plenty of time, though.”
“Good.” Fay felt awkward and uncertain, wishing she knew how to put things back together between them, but not sure if she could. She glanced over at Sam, who had turned their direction. “Hi, it smells good. Are you making Jeremy’s famous apple upside down cake?” It felt weird, having a casual conversation with him after everything that had passed between them, but she supposed there would never be a better chance to take those baby steps.
Sam looked ridiculously pleased that she was being reasonably nice to him. She couldn’t decide if that was pathetic, or if she had been that big of a jerk before now. She suspected it was the latter and tried not to think about it too hard at the moment.
“All the time. We have some tricks up our sleeves. Are you judging tonight?”
“Nope, I’m only here to coordinate. Just as well since it might be harder for me to be unbiased, you know, with half my family entering.”
Sam smiled and Fay was glad she had decided to give him a chance to explain— even if she didn’t decide to forgive him, Austin had been right that it was eating at her, and clearing the air had to help. It wasn’t likely to make things worse, in any case.
She didn’t stay long— the judges were arriving soon and she had to make sure they were all set, but she extended an awkward goodbye to both men before moving on.
Judging took a good long while, and then people attending the celebration were able to buy all-you-can-eat tickets to taste test the food for themselves. At the end of the day, her Uncle Jeremy’s secret apple upside-down cake recipe won best dessert and Austin’s Dutch oven calzone earned an honorable mention. The win went to Keith Fisher, a world champion Dutch oven master from the west who had been traveling through the area and decided to compete for fun.
Thanks to the Dutch oven competition, Fay’s booth was much slower on Friday evening than it had been the night before, but she kept Hank there through the dinner rush, and then stayed to clean up afterward.
Fay was putting the last of the equipment into the back of Mike’s truck at sunset when Sam walked over, his hands in his pockets, looking like he was trying to appear casual and relaxed. She could tell from the set of his shoulder and lines between his eyes, though, that he was anything but relaxed. She understood that feeling, since she had been anxious, wondering if he would stop by for the past hour.
“Looks like you’re about done breaking it down for the night,” he said.
“Yeah, I’ll haul it off, then come back again tomorrow. It’s been busy.”
“Are you running your booth again tomorrow, then?”
“I’ve brought in a temp to help Lilith at the booth most of the time. That way I can come back and forth between here and the café. Oktoberfest is on the docket. I’m bringing a whole slew of soft pretzels.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and helped her lift the grill into the truck bed. “I probably haven’t said so lately, but I’m proud of you, of what you’re doing with your life and the choices you’ve made. Mom would be happy that you took over the café.”
Fay felt the words catch in her throat and had to swallow hard to move the lump enough to speak. “Thank you. I like to think that she would be pleased with what I’ve done with her legacy.”
“She would.”
“Is that why you gave up your part of the inheritance for me?” Fay looked over at Sam, not sure what reaction she wanted f
rom him.
He scowled. “Jeremy wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“I’m glad he did. I knew you guys gave me a screaming good deal on the place, but I figured it was because of his influence. I guess I haven’t given you much credit.” She thought about how she had cursed his name— if only in her head— because of the past. Had she just been angry and needed a scapegoat?
“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. You’re my only daughter. Everything I have will be yours one day— I passed this to you sooner than I would have otherwise. Your mom said it’s helped you settle and feel more grounded for the past couple of years.”
“It has. I was kind of hating my life before— I wasn’t succeeding at my dream. Not to speak of, anyway. One or two drawings in tiny galleries over the course of seven or eight years had me floundering. I had been so sure that success was just beyond my fingertips, and that if I pushed hard enough, I would reach it. Then Grandma died and all I could think was that I wouldn’t have her to run to anymore, and what a loss the café would be to me, personally. When the manager at the place where I was waiting tables was having a baby and suggested that I would make a good replacement for her, I started to think about the café— Mom had mentioned Jeremy was trying to manage it on the side while it was up for sale. I decided if I was going to manage, I’d rather do it for myself. I would have been creatively hamstrung there.” She shook her head and sighed. “I suppose that’s why Bret and Austin are opening their ski shop as well.”
“You want to go for a ride? Seems like we have a lot to talk about,” he said.
Fay was twisted up inside about it still, but she’d decided to give him a chance to talk, and it wasn’t going to get better than this— even if she did still have to count out the register at the café and make the pretzel dough tonight. She had considered popping into the Down Home Dance that night, but was honestly too tired for anything that rigorous anyway. “Follow me back to Mom’s? Mike let me borrow his truck to transport and I’m parking in their garage at night.”
Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2) Page 40