Second-Chance Sweet Shop (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 7)

by Rochelle Alers

  “She can’t be a cook!”

  “She wants to be a chef, and that’s very different from being a cook.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me the difference, Dwight! You know damn well what I mean.”

  He sat straight. It wasn’t until they were separated that he had become aware of how argumentative Adrienne could be. It was as if she thrived on being confrontational. “If you’re looking for a fight today, then I don’t intend to verbally spar with you. Kiera has made up her mind as to what she wants as a career choice, and we agreed a long time ago that I would pay for her college, which lets you off the hook monetarily for any decision she makes.”

  “I thought she wanted to be a doctor.”

  “You want her to be a doctor, while I’m open to whatever she chooses to be.”

  “She told me she wanted to be a doctor until you started sniffing around that Manning girl’s skirts.”

  A muscle twitched in Dwight’s jaw when he clenched his teeth. “What did you say?”

  “Don’t worry, Kiera didn’t tell me about you and Sasha Manning because lately she’s been like a deaf-mute whenever I ask about you. Although all the Wheelers have left The Falls, I still have a few friends there who keep me up on the latest news.”

  The Wheelers had begun a steady exodus over the decades from Wickham Falls, until even Kiera’s distant cousins were gone. “If you’re so concerned about what’s going on here, then you should’ve never left. Goodbye,” Dwight said, abruptly ending the call. He knew if it hadn’t been for Kiera, he would’ve cut off all communication with Adrienne. He was aware she was upset because their daughter had refused to give her any information on his private life, which had him totally confused when her focus should’ve been on her husband. The few encounters he’d had with the man over the years had been congenial once Dwight set the ground rules for how he wanted him, as a stepfather, to relate to Kiera. He’d been forthcoming when he warned Omar Johnson never to lay a hand on Kiera or there would be hell to pay.

  At the time, Dwight didn’t know what had transpired between Omar and Kiera until she finally told him that she’d overheard her stepfather tell someone he hated his wife’s daughter and he couldn’t wait to get rid of her, yet knew there was no way Dwight would go along with Adrienne sending their daughter to boarding school to save her marriage, because it had been apparent that Kiera wasn’t the most important person in her life.

  Generally, he ignored Adrienne and didn’t let her get under his skin, but today was different, because it involved Sasha. And because Kiera refused to talk to her mother about him, Adrienne had contacted locals who’d told her what she wanted to know about his personal life. What he had never been able to wrap his head around was Adrienne’s desire to know about the women he dated when she had recently celebrated her twelfth wedding anniversary with a man who obviously adored her.

  Dwight detected movement out of the side of his eye and stood up. Sasha had come into the room without making a sound. “How much did you hear?” he asked her, not knowing how long she had been standing there.

  * * *

  Sasha saw Dwight’s thunderous expression and wondered what had set him off. “What are you talking about?”

  “Were you eavesdropping on my telephone conversation?”

  “No!” The single word exploded from her mouth, as she struggled to control her temper. “And I don’t appreciate you implying that I’m a sneak.”

  Dwight ran a hand over his face and then took a step and cradled her against his chest. “I’m sorry, babe. I had no right to take out my frustrations on you.”

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, Sasha leaned back and looked up at him. “I’ll forgive you this time but try not to let it happen again.” Her words, though spoken quietly, held a thread of hardness that indicated she was serious. She’d experienced enough of Grant taking his frustrations out on her to last her a lifetime. He’d expected every song he released to reach number one on the country chart. As the ultimate narcissist, he thought earning the number two spot made him a loser.

  Dwight brushed his mouth over hers. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

  Her annoyance vanished with his promise and chaste kiss. “I came to get you because I need you to be my taste tester.”

  “Can you give me a hint what I’ll be eating?”

  “You won’t be eating but drinking. I’ve been experimenting with mocktails. I have dozens of photos of cakes, along with signed releases from former celebrity clients, filed away because I plan to publish a coffee-table book featuring desserts and accompanying drinks.”

  Sasha looped her arm through Dwight’s and led him through the living and dining rooms, where warming dishes lined a buffet table. Her mother had decided to serve a buffet dinner in lieu of a sit-down because the dining room table, unlike the Adamses’, wasn’t large enough to accommodate the dishes she’d prepared for her guests.

  “Something really smells good,” Dwight remarked.

  Sasha smiled. “My mother is an incredible cook.”

  “Is she the reason you went to culinary school?”

  “Yes and no. I’ll tell you about that at another time.”

  Charlotte glanced up from slicing ingredients for a mixed citrus salad. “I suppose Natasha wants you to...” Her words trailed off when the doorbell chimed throughout the house. She set down a knife. “You kids stay here. I’ll get the door.”

  Sasha rested her hand on Dwight’s back, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my mother this excited to have company. Now that my brothers aren’t stationed stateside, she doesn’t get to see her grandchildren as much as she would like.”

  “Where are they stationed?” Dwight asked.

  “Philip lives in Germany and Stephen was recently transferred to Guam.”

  “Has she been putting pressure on you to give her a grandchild that lives closer to home?”

  She didn’t want to tell Dwight that when she was married her mother had asked her constantly when she was going to have a baby, and she’d told Charlotte she wasn’t ready to start a family, that she’d had plenty of time before her biological clock began winding down. And she still had time. At thirty-two, she estimated she had at least three or even four years before being considered high risk, although women were having their first child well into their forties.

  “No,” Sasha replied. “Mama knows this is not the right time for me to have a baby.” She picked up a martini glass with tiny purple flower petals floating atop pale green sparkling liquid and handed it to Dwight. “I want and need your honest opinion,” she said, as Dwight put the glass to his mouth. Sasha hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she felt a band of tightness constrict her chest. “What? What?” she repeated after he’d taken a deep swallow.

  Instead of answering Sasha, Dwight drained the glass. “It’s delicious. How did you make it?”

  Sasha’s smile was dazzling. “You really like it?”

  “I did say it was delicious. So yes, I really, really like it.”

  “What did you taste, Dwight?”

  “Lime, a hint of mint, tonic water and something sweet to offset the acidity of the citrus.”

  “It’s lavender. I use it in cakes and frostings.”

  Dwight set the glass on the countertop. “I never would’ve guessed that.”

  “What wouldn’t you have guessed?”

  Sasha turned to find Victoria and Kiera smiling at them. Kiera cradled a bouquet of fresh roses in every conceivable hue nestled in baby’s breath, and wrapped in cellophane, while Victoria held a shopping bag. “Oh, my word. The roses are beautiful.”

  “Grammie had to drive to Mineral Springs to get them, because the florist here didn’t get his shipment of flowers for the week,” Kiera volunteered.

  Victoria hande
d Sasha the bag. “This is a little something for the house.”

  Sasha unwrapped the box and opened it to find an exquisite Waterford vase. It was more than a little something, but to refuse the gift would demonstrate ungratefulness. Folks in the South were raised never to come to someone’s home empty-handed.

  “Thank you. Mama and I really appreciate your generous gift.”

  Victoria waved her hand. “I should be the one thanking you for spoiling us when Kiera comes home every night with dessert.” She spied the martini glasses and a pitcher filled with the fizzy green liquid. “That really looks exotic.”

  “It’s a take on a green dragon without the alcohol. I wanted to make something Kiera can also drink.”

  Kiera, who’d busied herself removing the cellophane from the flowers and arranging them in the vase, glanced over her shoulder. “Daddy told me he would disown me if I was caught drinking before I reach the legal age.”

  “That would be one time when I would side with your father,” Victoria said, as she gave her granddaughter a long, penetrating stare.

  Kiera lowered her eyes and went back to concentrating on the floral arrangement, and Sasha knew the young girl probably counted on her grandmother as an ally to support her when she wanted something from Dwight. But apparently underage drinking was an issue that was not debatable.

  Charlotte removed her apron and picked up the bowl with the salad. “Now that everyone’s here, we can go into the dining room to eat. Tonight’s menu celebrates the Big Easy with dishes I learned from my grandmother who grew up in New Orleans before she married Granddaddy and moved to The Falls.”

  * * *

  Dwight waited until everyone had served themselves before he picked up a bowl and filled it with chicken-andouille gumbo and topped the steaming soup with long-grain cooked rice. He knew from the first spoonful where Sasha had inherited her cooking skills. He ate sparingly because he wanted to sample every dish: shrimp étouffée, red beans and rice, stuffed pork chops with creole seasoning and jalapeño corn bread. Sasha’s mocktail was the perfect complement to offset the incredibly delicious rich and spicy dishes. And he’d discovered he wasn’t the only one going back for second helpings.

  Everything was perfect from the floral arrangement in the crystal vase, to the delicious iciness of the virgin cocktail, prepared food and the company. It was the second time the Mannings and Adamses had gathered for Sunday dinner, and for Dwight, it felt as if they were truly family. Conversations segued from world and national politics to professional sports teams’ playoffs and championship games, and the upcoming events at Kiera’s school. She revealed she’d joined a committee to plan events for the following year’s graduation. She said students in the junior class were currently involved in planning car washes and bowling fund-raisers to offset the cost of their senior trip.

  “Has the committee decided where they want to go for their senior trip?” Sasha asked Kiera.

  “The choices are New York, Philadelphia and DC. Someone mentioned taking a three-or four-day cruise, but most kids said their parents can’t afford prom and a cruise.”

  “That is a lot of financial responsibility for parents,” Dwight admitted. It wouldn’t be a hardship for him to pay for prom and a cruise, but he couldn’t say the same for families that weren’t as affluent as his.

  “This is when some of the civic organizations ought to step up and support our kids,” Victoria said. “Dwight, I’m certain the chamber takes in enough with dues and their various fund-raisers throughout the year to at least underwrite the cost of prom, which would provide some monetary relief for parents paying for the senior trip.”

  “The Gibsons’ donation to prom could be their new catering venue, which would put quite a dent in the cost of the tickets,” Sasha added. She saw four pairs of eyes staring at her. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, you didn’t,” Victoria replied. “In fact, that’s a wonderful idea. It’s about time the businesses in The Falls support our kids expressly when they want us to shop locally.”

  “Which we definitely do,” Charlotte said in agreement. “I can’t remember the last time I went to Mineral Springs or even Beckley for something I could get here.”

  Victoria touched her napkin to her mouth. “That does it. Charlotte, when you have some spare time I want you to help me get some of the ladies together. We need to spearhead a campaign to help our graduating seniors defray some of the cost of prom and their senior trip. Of course, it’s too late for this graduating class, so it would have to be for next year.”

  Dwight leaned back in his chair, winking at Charlotte. “I want to warn you that my mother is as tenacious as a pit bull once she gets the proverbial bee in her bonnet. She will not stop until she forces someone to submit to her will.”

  Charlotte smiled. “If that’s the case, then she has a sister in crime, because I don’t believe in giving up easily.” She suddenly sobered. “Being married to a man who couldn’t stop beating his gums because everything had to be his way, or no way, prepared me to go the distance.”

  Rising slightly, Victoria reached across the table and exchanged a fist bump with Charlotte. “We’re going to make an awesome team.”

  “Grammie, I hope you won’t embarrass me,” Kiera said.

  Dwight looked at his daughter and then his mother. “Did I miss something?”

  Victoria lowered her eyes. “No comment.”

  His eyebrows rose questioningly when his gaze returned to Kiera, who appeared more interested in the food on her plate. “You don’t have to tell me. But remember, what doesn’t come out in the wash will always come out in the rinse.” Dwight knew his mother was his daughter’s secret keeper, and he’d come to respect their close bond. However, he trusted Victoria to come to him if she felt a situation would negatively impact her granddaughter.

  “And keeping with the theme of the Big Easy, I decided to make bananas Foster for dessert,” Sasha said, shattering the uncomfortable silence.

  Kiera jumped. “Can I help you make it, Miss Sasha?”

  Pushing back her chair, Sasha stood. “Of course.”

  Dwight rose to his feet. “Mom, you and Miss Charlotte relax while I put away the leftovers.”

  “Are you sure?” the two older women said in unison.

  “Yes, I am sure.”

  “Natasha will show you where I keep the containers to store the leftovers.”

  Dwight smiled at Sasha’s mother. “Yes, ma’am.” Stacking plates and flatware, he carried them into the kitchen, setting them on the countertop. He glanced at Sasha and Kiera as they peeled and sliced bananas, and the single act of shared domesticity rendered him motionless for several seconds. In that instant he realized he’d never witnessed Kiera and Adrienne together in their kitchen. Whenever he went to New York to see his daughter, he always checked into a hotel and met her in the lobby of the high-rise building where she lived with her mother and stepfather. Even when he’d sat down with Adrienne and Omar to discuss Kiera’s future, the meeting took place in a restaurant.

  Dwight was certain Adrienne loved her daughter, and Kiera her mother, and while he’d accepted some blame that she wasn’t able to grow up with mother and father living under the same roof, he’d trusted Adrienne to protect and raise their daughter properly and she had. Not only was Kiera a good student but she appeared to be well-adjusted.

  He’d stored the food in the refrigerator and stacked dishes in the dishwasher when Sasha announced she was ready to serve dessert. Sasha ignited the pan with light brown sugar, melted butter, bananas, cinnamon and dark rum. He watched as she carefully spooned the sauce over the bananas until the flame burned out and immediately ladled it over scoops of vanilla ice cream. It was only the second time Dwight had eaten the dessert, but the former could not come close to what Sasha had prepared.

  “Did you buy the ice cream from the Village Market?” Victo
ria asked Sasha. “Because this brand is delicious.”

  Dwight wanted to ask the same thing. The Falls’ supermarket, although smaller than many of the area’s supermarkets and warehouse stores, was stocked with everything the residents needed to stock their refrigerators and pantries.

  “Natasha makes her own ice cream,” Charlotte said, smiling. “I love her vanilla because she uses the actual beans, but her pistachio is to die for.”

  Victoria set down her spoon. “Sasha, I know I’m not giving you a lot of notice, but can you make an assortment of desserts for my Ladies Auxiliary meeting this coming Wednesday? Although many of us don’t need the extra calories, I’d like you to make enough ice cream to serve eight.”

  Dwight met her eyes across the table, and he wondered if she was feeling that his mother had put her on the spot. He was aware that she worked long hours to grow her business and she’d mentioned she was looking to take on an assistant, which would free her up to accept special orders.

  “I can put together a tray of miniature desserts along with a couple of pints of gelato, which has a lot less butterfat than ice cream.”

  “We don’t have classes on Wednesday, because teachers have professional development on that day,” Kiera said excitedly. “Can I come in and help you, Miss Sasha?”

  “I don’t mind, but you’ll have to ask your father.”

  “Daddy, pul-eeze,” Kiera drawled. “Can I?”

  His daughter gave a longing look she knew he could not resist. “Yes.”

  Kiera jumped up, rounded the table, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He held on to her hands. “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

  Kiera pressed her mouth to his ear. “I’m too old to be your baby girl,” she whispered.

  “When I’m in my nineties and you’re seventy you will still be my baby girl.”

  “Stop it, Daddy. You’re embarrassing me.”

  Dwight kissed the back of her hand and then removed her arms from around his neck. What his daughter failed to understand was that he’d missed so many years watching her grow up to become the young woman she now presented. Visiting with her three or four times a year wasn’t the same as seeing the milestones in which she went from a toddler to an adolescent, and he’d had to rely on Adrienne to tell him about the physical changes in their daughter’s body.