Clayton took a deep breath and started counting. He got to three before he gave up on that plan. There was no counting to control his feelings when it came to Caleb. His brother was an expert when it came to pushing his buttons. He’d been doing it longer than anyone, therefore he knew how to do it better than anyone. Luckily, Clayton had almost as much experience at pushing Caleb’s, so he’d give back as good as he got. He gave his brother a steely look to let him know that he wasn’t in the mood.
“Don’t start,” Clayton said. “If you are so good at noticing things you’d also notice I got here before she did, so it’s a coincidence and—” He suddenly clamped down on the absurdity of explaining this to his big brother. “Why do I have to explain myself to you? I’m not here to talk about Olivia Gale. It’s just like you said. If your calendar, not to mention your cell phone, are so on point, why is it that Ma should have to send me over here? You’re supposed to be the older brother, not to mention a caring son, so shouldn’t you be going over to check up on her?” Clayton chose to keep things focused on Caleb and his responsibilities and not even give any play toward his stupid comment about Livia. He wouldn’t let him rile him.
“Why would she need me to check up on her when she’s got you?” Caleb said, his words a question that Clayton knew he didn’t really want answered. “You, my dear younger brother, are all the son our mother needs. Perfect fire chief with the lovely daughter. Always making it to dinner on time.”
Caleb watched Clayton, but then just for the briefest moment Caleb’s eyes shifted toward his prosthetic lower limb. “Yes, she’s got everything she needs in a son when it comes to you.”
Clayton felt his eyes go skyward, and he let out a wry laugh. “Cut the pitiful, jealous act. You’re not talented enough to pull it off. You know that I know that you’re just hiding out from Ma because you are having too much fun sulking out in the woods, playing at being the recluse. You’re well past pitying yourself after all this time. For all I know, all this mystery crap could be just to pick up women.”
Caleb shrugged, though there was a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “Hey, don’t hate the game.”
Clayton got serious and lowered his tone. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re also afraid that the more time you spend around Ma, the more she may guilt you into coming down off your mountain and remembering who it is you really are.”
It was Caleb’s turn to roll his eyes now, and he was just about to say something when his eye was caught by another patron. A pretty blonde waving for attention with a couple of her excited friends. They had tourist written all over them. Caleb flashed them what couldn’t quite pass for a smile, but still had a bit of a smolder. Clayton knew his brother was putting on his mountain man act full force.
Clayton let out a groan. “Laying it on a little thick there?”
“Hey, they look like big tippers,” Caleb said. “Listen, I’ve gotta work.” He nodded his head toward the group by the bull pit. “Now, why don’t you head over that way and continue not chasing after that city girl. From the looks of things, she has no intention of giving you the time of day, and with the crowd she’s drawing, you’d better do your best if you plan to take a shot.”
Clayton felt like a fool when he immediately swiveled his head toward the bull pit seeking out Livia and noticed the men clearly in her vicinity not by happenstance.
Caleb laughed. It was a bit rusty sounding and kind of craggy, and Clayton would’ve enjoyed it if it wasn’t at his own expense.
Once again, the urge to count popped into Clayton’s head. He gave his brother a hard look. “Who says I’m chasing after anybody? How about you worry about your own business and do what you need to do by giving your mama a call?” With that Clayton picked up his beer and, against his better judgment and worse yet with the sound of his brother’s chuckle echoing in his ears, he headed off to the rest of his crew, which was unfortunately in the same direction as the bull pit and Olivia Gale.
Chapter 8
Liv woke with a sore behind and even sorer head. How in the world was it that four-thirty came so darned quick? And how was it she thought she could handle getting up at four-thirty without any problem? The sound of the old tin alarm clock buzzing did an incredible job at magnifying her pain, and it had the added bonus of quickly bringing her mortification of the night before sharply into focus. Trying her best to block it all out, Liv threw a pillow over her head and groaned.
“No need for all that groaning, Missy.”
Liv lifted her pillow and peeked a bleary eye out toward her aunt Joyce. Her aunt was looking at her with what she was sure was supposed to be sternness, but she couldn’t miss the distinct look of mirth in her eyes. She was clearly enjoying this. “That’s what you gals get for hanging out with Rena till the wee hours while knowing that you have to get up in the morning.”
“You call this morning?” Liv moaned.
“Hey, it’s morning around here. At least it’s what a baker calls morning; now have at it.” She clapped her hands together loudly. “Come on. You’re young, this is what you signed up for. Let’s get to going. We need to be out of the house in thirty minutes. Now you look like you’ve got a little spunk in you. Get up. I need to get back to see if your sister is moving. I’ve already tried rousing her once, and she didn’t budge. I’m afraid I may have to go back in there and pull out my water pistol.”
“No need for that, lady. You can holster that squirt gun idea. I’m up,” Drea said from behind Aunt Joyce.
What? How in the world was Drea up before she was? She was kicking it back pretty hard last night. Whooping and hollering on that mechanical bull as if she was made for the thing. Meanwhile Liv, with barely a couple of the Joy Juices in her, had a head that was spinning like mad.
Not to mention she didn’t even want to think about her one trial on that ridiculous mechanical bull or the mortification it led to. She’d never forgive Rena for talking her into getting on that thing in the first place.
“All you’ve got to do is last for a second,” she had said. “Come on, it’ll be easy, and such a good time. This’ll make you real local for sure. Besides, don’t you want to show you-know-who you’re not afraid of no bull?” That last one. That was the one that did it. Like a silly kid bowing down to peer pressure, she took one look at Clayton over on the sidelines and took in how he was eyeing her with a challenge in his eyes—like he didn’t think she had the heart to take on the bull—and she was in. Liv inwardly groaned. What an idiot she was. An idiot who landed on her behind, hard. Looking like a fool in front of the entire bar, not to mention in front of Clayton Morris.
“I’m glad to see I don’t have to resort to my commando measures,” Aunt Joyce said, and Liv was happy for the mind shift. “Now, you girls get a move on. I want you both dressed in the next twenty minutes. I’ve already got breakfast ready downstairs. Nothing big, just some honey biscuits, hot grits, and slab bacon. A little something to get in your stomach so you’re ready for the work to come. Now let’s hop to it. I like to have my ovens warmed up by five-thirty and my first pies in by five forty-five. If I don’t have my first batches of biscuits and mini pies out by store’s opening, I could have a revolt.” She paused. “Well, at least a revolt from Old Carl Perkins. And I wouldn’t want that.” She gave a chuckle and headed off, Liv supposed downstairs, which left her wondering about how well she navigated them.
Liv threw back her pillow and eased up, giving a bleary look to her sister, who gave her head a shake. Liv gave her a perplexed look right back. “I can’t believe you’re up! How can you possibly be standing upright?”
Drea shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t believe it either. Must be the country air. I slept like a log for the few hours that I did sleep. I don’t understand it. The bird started chirping, and my first instinct was to throw a shoe out the window, but then I thought, What good would that do? They would only be back tomorrow. And besides, don’t you smell that bacon?” She shrugged again.
Drea
turned, then headed toward her own room to dress and, Liv was sure, get first dibs on the bacon. For all her sister’s tall slimness and talk about holistic living, she always seemed to cave when bacon was thrown in the mix. Liv shook her head, which turned out to be a bad idea, and pushed herself fully up, heading to her own bathroom and the shock of the mirror at four-thirty a.m.
Looking in the mirror, she quickly averted her eyes from her own reflection. Won’t be making that mistake again at this hour. Not without some moisturizer and at least a little BB cream. And well, maybe a lot of eye de-puffer. Something about this humidity and that Joy Juice did not mix well with her skin. Coming back up with her toothbrush in hand, Liv was forced once again to meet her own thoughts as the night before came rushing to the forefront.
Gosh, she was a total fool for getting on that bull last night. Letting Rena egg her on like she did. What was she, fourteen years old? In junior high? She sure acted like it, but she knew exactly what it was that made her get on that bull. It was looking across the crowd and seeing Clayton Morris hanging with his crew, trying his best to look too cool for school and ignore the fact that she was in his airspace. So yeah, she was an idiot, and yeah, she was all of fourteen again acting like the silly little girl trying to catch the eye of the most popular boy in class. And what did she get for her troubles? She caught his eye all right, his eye and unfortunately his misplaced sympathy to the hilarity of the whole bar when he made a big show of jumping the little makeshift fence and coming to her rescue when she flipped bottom over top off the mechanical bull after less than a second. She must have looked a right fool. Butt high in the air, one stiletto on, the other having to be handed to her by a cute fireman after Clayton carried her out of the pit. Talk about mortifying. Her hair had come undone, and she looked like a frightful mess. Her blouse was half twisted, and she was barely standing.
That was not the way one made an auspicious entrance back into town.
Liv leaned over and spit into the sink and then proceeded to rinse her face. Oh well, done was done, and today was a new day. After wiggling out of Clayton’s arms and only leaning for two seconds—okay, so it was two seconds on his rock-hard chest to right her body while she got used to the feeling of being on level ground once again—Liv did her best to regain her composure and her dignity. But it was hard. So very hard with him so close, his chest so firm, his arms so strong and solid, and his lips right there.
“That was the best thing I’ve seen all year!” Rena’s joyous squeal was just what the doctor ordered and saved Liv from further humiliation.
Liv finally pushed herself away from Clayton and stood on her own wobbly feet. She looked over at her cousin. “Can we go now?”
“Just a minute,” Rena said as she went over to Caleb Morris and collected what looked to be a crisp fifty-dollar bill and a warm hug.
“I can’t believe that Clayton’s brother bet for me to win or that you bet against me,” Liv said.
Rena shrugged. “He knew it was a sucker bet. I think he wanted me to win. Caleb comes off as a hard-ass, but he’s mostly a mush,” Rena said, tucking the money away.
Liv slid her eyes Caleb’s way and noticed his gaze was once again on Rena. For a second, she paused. It wasn’t the gaze of a person who was just being nice or someone who was just covering for his boy either. But so far Rena seemed to be concerned only about what Troy was up to, so she seemed oblivious to the man at the bar sending soulful looks her way. All Liv could do was hope that Troy didn’t continue to disappoint Rena the way he currently was. But if the past was any indication of his future behavior, she doubted he would change.
“What you gals doing up there?” Aunt Joyce’s voice came from downstairs. “We’re headed to the shop to get cooking, not to the city for a beauty contest. Y’all got five minutes, let’s get to going, otherwise I’ll drive myself even if I’m not supposed to. I’ve already canceled my normal ride, so you are it.”
Liv moaned as she caught her reflection in the mirror again. She gave herself her best put-on smile. “This is what you signed up for,” she said. “This is what you came here for. Family, fresh air, and a good dose of what’s real. Now it’s time to embrace it. Get on downstairs and start living your life, Olivia Gale.”
* * *
Breathtaking. That was her thought as the sleep fully washed away and Liv caught her first glimpse of the sun coming up over the lake as they made their way to the shop that morning. The silence was such a stark contrast to the sound of mornings in New York, which admittedly she’d always loved. It was much more of a quiet type of rush than life in the city. Yes, she loved the low hum of the cars as they made their way up Eighth Avenue, in Harlem, the metal clang of the store grates as they went up to shout out the beginning of the day. But this was somehow different; this was a gentler, more quiet type of signaling. Though somehow filled with just as much anticipation for her. The beautiful glow of the sun on the rippling water was inspiring, as it seemed to fill her with much-needed energy for the short drive to the shop.
Once in town, this time instead of pulling up to one of the metered parking spots, Liv brought the old sedan down the back alley to behind the shop, where Aunt Joyce usually parked. She turned off the ignition and Drea got out, helping Aunt Joyce as she went. Drea looked around at the back-lot area, pausing and nodding her head. “What you checking out so hard there, girly?” Aunt Joyce asked.
“I’m just thinking about what a nice space you got back here, Aunt Joyce,” Drea said. “It’d be lovely with a few tables. I can see people sitting back here having lunch, enjoying the breeze, making an afternoon of it.”
Aunt Joyce chuckled at that and went into her purse to pull out her set of keys. Finally, she poked a thumb Drea’s way before pushing the back door of the shop open. “I see this one here is the dreamer.” She shook her head and smiled wistfully. Reaching out her hand she touched Drea’s cheek softly. “Reminds me of your mama. Always thinking of something. That gal would keep her head in the clouds.”
Drea frowned. “Whose mama? I know you’re not talking about mine. Not Mrs. Practical, that’s for sure.”
Aunt Joyce shrugged. “If you say so, but you don’t know her like I know her. When it comes to imagination, nobody has one like my baby sister. But I’ll just leave it at that.” And that was how she left it, making her way into the shop quicker than a woman on a bum hip ought to. Leaving Drea and Liv no choice but to follow quickly to catch up as she went about flipping on the lights as they came through the back kitchen.
“Okay, girls, no time for fooling around. This is going to go kind of fast for the first few days, but you two are smart, so I’m sure you’ll get the gist. Just mind what I say and we’ll have time for questions after the morning’s batches are done. Is that good?” Aunt Joyce asked, though the sisters both knew she wasn’t really expecting any sort of answer besides an affirmative one.
Both Liv and Drea nodded, ready to head toward their respective tasks.
Grabbing a Goode ’N Sweet apron from a hook in the workroom, Liv was surprised by the overwhelming emotion she felt. She loved how well the plain muslin apron with its pink and brown logo on the front fit easily over her body. She brought the ties around the back of her waist and then over into a bow at her front, and smiled. Perfect. She remembered how the old aprons used to swim on her slim frame as a kid up until she was well past puberty.
Drea came over and gave her a look. “What are you grinning about so hard this early in the morning?”
Liv shook her head. “I’m just excited to get to work.”
Drea pulled a face, giving her a skeptical look. Not quite as excited as her sister to be in her work apron. “If you say so.”
Liv grabbed her tote and pulled out her cell. “Come on, let’s take a photo. We look so cute in our aprons.”
Drea shook her head at this, but let out a small sigh and smiled. “Fine.”
The sisters posed together, Liv holding the phone high to get their best angle and s
how off their aprons to their best advantage.
Just then Aunt Joyce came around from the pantry. “Didn’t I say we had a lot of work to do?” she snapped. “And here you two are doing a photo shoot!”
“Sorry, Aunt Joyce. We were excited to be in our aprons,” Liv said.
Aunt Joyce tapped her good foot. “I tell you. You can’t get good help. Well, come on over and let me get in the photo too. If you’re going to do it, you might as well have the queen included.”
Liv laughed. “Get on in here, then!”
They snapped their pics, then got on with what was one of the busiest mornings of her life. By nine, both Liv and Drea were about ready to cry uncle. Liv didn’t know how Aunt Joyce and Rena had been doing it. They’d made three dozen honey biscuits, six banana breads, four carrot breads, six apple pies, and three cherry pies. And they had three pecan peach cobblers going in the ovens, not to mention the mini tarts that were chilling.
Beat didn’t begin to explain it. What saved them was how Aunt Joyce and Rena had had things prepped, but even with that there was a ton of work.
By the time Rena came in at seven forty-five, after getting her kids ready for school, her sister agreeing to do the school drop-off—picking up the slack where once again Troy fell short—Liv could see that both Aunt Joyce and Rena were spread about as thin as they came.
Liv could also see how a mistake could have been made with the oven temperature, thus starting the fire the other morning. There was no way Aunt Joyce should be doing everything alone. Not anymore. It was clear she needed help, and she needed it quickly with the sheer magnitude of work they had going on in the shop.
Morning business was steady from the moment the doors opened at seven-thirty until about nine-thirty, when folks were settled into their respective jobs and had already made off with their morning treats from Goode ’N Sweet. Though not great for profits, Liv was thankful that they didn’t have nearly as much business at lunch as they did in the morning. She didn’t think she could handle it. At least not on her first day. But she couldn’t keep her business marketer’s mind from working overtime with thoughts of changes to the menu and how they could pick up potential business with just a few tweaks. Liv stopped herself though. She knew it was crazy thinking.
As Good as the First Time Page 11