The Heavenly Grille Café

by J. T. Livingston

  “We’ve got Mississippi Mud Pie for dessert,” Max beamed at the collected group. “Best I ever made if I must say so myself.”

  Amanda held her belly, which was full after two huge meatloaf sandwiches and an extra-large serving of mashed potatoes. “Oh, that’s one of my favorites,” she droned, “but I’m stuffed, Max. Is there any chance of getting some of that to go, maybe? I’m so tired… I just want to climb into bed right now. It’s been a long day.”

  “So you made a trip back to Tampa, I hear?” Doug asked Amanda, who had moved into the kitchen to help Max prepare the desserts to go.

  She turned excitedly toward him. “Yep, sure did, and it was GREAT! I took Kris to my old neighborhood and was even able to show her the house I grew up in.”

  “It was vacant, I take it?” Doug asked, avoiding Max’s hard glare.

  “Oh, put some extra fudge sauce on my piece, will ya, Max, please?” Amanda’s attention was focused on dessert but she had heard Doug’s question. “Nope, as a matter of fact, there was a couple and their baby living there. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember their last name; I’m not sure if they even told us… but their first names were Jack and Susan – really nice people. They even allowed me to give Amanda the grand tour of the place.”

  “You said they had a baby?” Doug asked, once again managing to ignore the hard stare coming from Max’s direction.

  “Yep, a little girl, about five months old. Head full of black hair; such a cute little thing, from what I could tell. She slept the whole time we were there. I don’t trust my memory, but I think I remember them saying her name was Kelly.”

  The next question came from Max. “And how did Kris react to that?”

  “It may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back,” Amanda answered; she was totally unaware of the worried look that passed between the two men.

  “How’s that?” Max asked as he placed the two desserts into a take-out bag. “Careful you don’t spill that extra fudge sauce; it’s right on top.”

  “If it spills, I’ll lick the bag clean,” Amanda joked. “Anyway, Kris was totally quiet on the ride back. I couldn’t get her to say two coherent words. I think seeing that baby unnerved her. It was probably cruel and heartless of me to put her through that, but…I wasn’t thinking, I guess. But, hey, that’s really good news about them finding the sedan, huh? Maybe they’ll be able to get some prints or something now… at least have something to go on.”

  “Dean told us there was a partial print on the baby’s car seat and they’ve already run it through the database,” Doug offered. “So far, nothing has popped up.”

  “So, I guess that just means that the kidnappers aren’t registered criminals,” Amanda interjected. “That’s a good sign, right?”

  “Criminals or not, they still kidnapped a child that did not belong to them,” Max sighed. “That just makes it harder for the police to narrow down the suspects.”

  “They have suspects?” Amanda asked hopefully.

  “No…” Doug said, shaking his head. “They have nothing, absolutely nothing other than hundreds of erroneous leads coming in every week. Everybody and their uncle have sighted the baby, from here to Timbuktu.”

  Max placed a hand across Amanda’s shoulder. “We’ll continue to pray,” he smiled down at her. “Prayer is a very powerful tool, indeed.”

  “I believe that,” Amanda nodded. “Now if I could only get Kris to believe in it, too.”

  “Don’t give up on her,” Doug said. “You came into her life for a reason, Amanda. You may be the key that turns her life around.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” Amanda smiled up at Doug. “That’s a pretty tall order, but you can bet I won’t give up on her. I just know in my heart that Charlotte Grace will be found soon.”

  When they walked back into the dining room, Bertie and Amos were deep in conversation at the counter. Dean and Kris were sitting side by side in the booth closest to the entrance. Dean had taken the opportunity, while they had some time to themselves, to tell her about the kidnappers’ note. He told her it was up to her whether or not she wanted to share that information with her friends.

  The first thing Amanda noticed were the tears streaming down Kris’ cheeks. “What’s wrong?” she squealed as she slid into the booth opposite the couple. “Dean? Kris? Somebody say something…”

  Kris used the back of her hand to wipe away the fresh tears and looked at the woman who had become such an important part of her life - the sister she had always wanted, the best friend she never had. She shook her head and lifted her brows in defeat. “The kidnappers left a note, Amanda. They don’t intend on ever giving her back. There will never be a ransom demand, or any other demand… they have taken my baby to raise as their own.”

  Everyone was within hearing distance of their conversation and Bertie gasped, “Sweet, Jesus!” She looked at Max who shook his head and lifted his shoulders. Even though she and Max knew about the couple who had taken the baby, they did not know why they had done it.

  They had all assumed that Charlotte Grace would eventually be returned safe and sound, but after hearing about the kidnappers’ note, they were no longer so sure there would be a happy ending to Kris’ nightmare.

  Amos slid off his stool and ambled over to where the group had gathered; Bertie followed him. He placed one long arm across Bertie’s shoulder and the other over Doug’s. He looked at all of them and smiled. A sudden sense of peace filled the room when he closed his eyes and said, “Let us pray…”

  Kris watched as, one by one, every occupant of the Heavenly Grille Café bowed their heads in prayer. A sudden tightness clenched her chest and she gasped for air; it came quickly enough, and when she finally exhaled she shivered as a new, different sensation began moving deep within her chest. This new feeling wasn’t tightness; instead, it felt like something extremely heavy being lifted off her chest - almost a fluid sensation spreading inside her with every intake of air she breathed. The feeling that had begun as a tremulous tightness had loosened, and was replaced with a warm, tingling sensation that moved across her chest, down her arms, and into her fingers. She couldn’t begin to explain it if she had to, but it seemed that every breath she took brought her closer to a sense of oneness with something…or someone. She did not know what was happening to her, but…she liked it. The former frantic, panicky feelings were leaving her body, and were immediately replaced with those of peacefulness and calmness.

  Kris DeVone bowed her head in prayer for the first time in her life. She had no clue that the Holy Spirit had just touched her very soul.

  CHAPTER 29

  –New Year’s Eve–

  Kris Agrees to Church

  The last few days of December went by too slowly for Kris. She received daily updates from Dean on the progress, or lack of progress being made with her case. She also returned to work, thinking the distraction would give her mind, and her heart, a temporary reprieve from the constant aching, desperation, and utter aloneness she felt. It amazed her that she was able to feel so alone even though she was constantly surrounded by people, usually Amanda.

  Her customers at the coffee house had been especially supportive, and Kris was still uncomfortable in accepting their prayers and blessings. She wasn’t sure she was deserving of so many prayers, especially since she had always scoffed at the existence of God and His church. She knew that Amanda had a lot to do in her subtle relinquishing of some of those particular barriers.

  Her shift was coming to a close and Kris was wiping down the last of the tables when she heard the shop’s front door open. She had her back to the door and didn’t immediately turn around. Instead, she yelled out, “Sorry, but we’re closing in five minutes…” When she didn’t get the response she expected, she turned sharply toward the door, instantly aware that she was working all alone in the coffee shop. Her relief was obvious when she saw Dean standing inside the doorway. Her hand flew to her mouth and she smiled. “Dean!”


  Her heart was beating fast against her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was from the momentary fear she felt when no one answered her comment about the shop closing, or if it was from the fact that a man she was growing to care deeply about now stood before her, holding a dozen red roses in his hand. She took a quick glance at his clothing, pressed khakis, white shirt, and a black windbreaker, and thought how even more handsome he looked out of uniform. His hair was neat and he appeared to be freshly shaven.

  Dean held the roses out to her for inspection, smiled, and said. “Hey, there, Kris. It’s… uh… well, it’s New Year’s Eve and I thought you should start the New Year off with a little color.”

  Kris wiped her hands on her apron and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She made her way hesitantly toward Dean and offered a weak smile. She managed to blink back the unshed tears and said, “No one has ever brought me flowers before…” She took the offered roses and inhaled their seductive, yet pure, aroma. “They smell so good. What a nice thing to do; thank you, Dean… thank you very much…”

  He placed both hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth. “Hard to believe no one has ever brought you flowers.”

  Kris smelled the flowers again. “You’re sweet…” She couldn’t help but smile at his obvious nervousness. “What? What is it?”

  Dean removed one hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair. He thought that things had been good between him and Kris since they first met, and he knew that her life was in a complete turmoil at the moment. However, he needed an answer to something that had been weighing on his mind for some time. He needed to know if Kris was experiencing any of the same feelings toward him as he did her. He was afraid to ask her, especially with Charlotte Grace missing, but he knew that he was going to do everything in his power to return the baby to her mother – and when that happened, he needed to know if Kris had any feelings, other than friendship, toward him. “Listen, Kris, I know this is a pretty lousy time in your life, not knowing where Charlotte Grace is and all…”

  “Lousy would be a huge understatement,” Kris said. She walked over to the counter. “Come on over and have a seat. Do you want some coffee while I finish up here? I’m closing tonight and I want to make sure I get things locked up before any late-night celebrators decide they want to come in here to sober up.”

  Dean plopped down on the stool. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to get answers to his questions. “Sure… coffee sounds good. Why don’t you give me the keys and I’ll lock the door for you and pull down the shades?”

  Kris pulled the keys from her apron pocket and placed them on the counter. “Thanks! You come in pretty handy sometimes, fella. I’ll get that coffee for you, but I’ve gotta warn you… it is the bottom of the pot, so it might be pretty strong.”

  “I like strong coffee,” Dean grinned as he took the keys, locked the door and pulled down the sage and cream-striped shades. He flicked off the outside lights, which also automatically triggered the inside lights to dimmer mode. Dean grinned to himself. “Hmmm… yeah… I guess a little ambience couldn’t hurt the situation.”

  “Did you say something?” Kris asked from the kitchen.

  Dean sat down at the counter where Kris had laid the dozen roses. “Nope, sure didn’t.”

  Kris brought him the last cup of coffee which did, indeed, appear to be extremely strong. “If I was a betting woman, I’d be taking bets on whether or not you’ll be able to drink this.” She laughed softly as she slid onto the stool next to him, lifted the roses, and inhaled slowly. “These really are beautiful, Dean. Thank you, again.”

  Dean took a large sip of the coffee and almost gagged. “Oh, God! This stuff is awful!”

  Kris ‘smile became a smirk. “I warned you that it was the bottom of the pot. I could make you a fresh pot if you like.”

  Dean cleared his throat and looked down the front of his shirt. “Damn… that stuff is strong enough to put hair on a man’s chest.”

  Kris grinned. “I was serious. I’ll be glad to put on a fresh pot…”

  Dean pushed away the cup of coffee. “Well, actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea, but do you think we could have it at your place instead of here? I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve and I… well, I didn’t know if you would want to be by yourself tonight. If you do, that’s okay, I understand...”

  Kris stood up and took the cup into the kitchen, rinsed it, and came back to stand beside Dean. “Well, you know… actually, I wasn’t going to be by myself. The Heavenly Grille is open all night and Amanda is ringing in the New Year there. She wanted me to stop by on the way home, and I was going to, but now that it’s gotten so late… I really don’t feel like being around a crowd right now.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” Dean smiled at her, thinking for the hundredth time how pretty she was. He loved the way her thick, curly red hair framed her perfect, smooth face that was covered with a few fugitive freckles racing across her nose and cheeks. He reached out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Why don’t you call Amanda and tell her know you’re not coming, but be sure to let her know that you won’t be all alone on New Year’s Eve?”

  A shiver raced through Kris’ body at Dean’s touch. She looked up into his dark eyes and felt the genuine warmth that radiated from them. It was the most sincere look she had ever seen on a man’s face. She looked at him for another long moment before nodding her agreement. She picked up the roses and said, “I think that sounds like a great idea. Come on, officer, you can follow me home.”

  “Lead the way, ma’am!” Dean grinned back at her.

  The Heavenly Grille was full of its regular customers who had chosen to ring in the New Year with Max’s country ham, stir-fried green beans, bacon-macaroni and cheese, hot buttermilk biscuits, red-eye gravy, and his famous seven-layer, fresh coconut cake for dessert.

  No alcohol was allowed on the premises, but the café’s regular customers didn’t seem to mind. They were all there more for the food, singing, and camaraderie than anything else. There was a mixed array of customers spread throughout the café; everyone from the preacher to ditch digger was there, as well as about fifteen of the regular long-distance truckers that frequented the establishment.

  Max was in his second Heaven, whistling away in the kitchen.

  Doug would stop in the kitchen periodically to help Max with the mounting orders, but most of his time was spent helping Bertie keep up with the seventy customers who packed the place.

  The café was almost at its legal capacity for customers; however, the fire chief was one of those customers tonight, and he looked the other way when Bertie and Doug found seats for an extra ten truckers who had stopped by to celebrate.

  Although Amanda wasn’t scheduled to work the evening shift, she was glad to pitch in and help Bertie and Doug by keeping coffee and drink cups filled to the brim. She loved catching up with all the locals, but her favorite customers had always been the truckers. They all felt like father-figures to her and she knew they genuinely cared about her general well-being. She glanced over at Kris’ contributory jar and couldn’t believe that it was overflowing, AGAIN! She had already emptied it three times tonight.

  Bertie came up behind her and asked, “When is Kris coming? It’s almost midnight.”

  Amanda slapped her forehead. “Oh! I forgot to tell you, Bertie. She called a few minutes ago and said she was going straight home… said she didn’t really feel like being with such a big crowd tonight.”

  “No! That girl can’t be by herself, not tonight!” Bertie shook her head.

  Amanda laughed. “That was my first thought, too, Bertie; but, don’t you go worrying too much about Kris. It turns out that she’s not going to be by herself tonight. It would appear that the good and kind Officer Hall has taken it upon himself to, not only bring her roses, but to also make sure she gets home safely tonight.”

  Bertie’s loud laugh filled the café and she punched Amanda’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll be damned! Heh, heh! I knew I was right ab
out those two. I don’t think either one of them really knows it yet, but there is something gonna happen between them, just you wait and see.”

  Amanda rubbed her shoulder and grinned. “I hope you’re right about that, Bertie. Heaven knows that Kris could use someone like Dean in her life.”

  Bertie punched Amanda’s shoulder again and winked. “Oh, sweet, girl, you’d be surprised just how much Heaven knows!”

  Kris and Dean sat side by side on the sofa, coffee mugs in hand. She had placed the roses in the only container she had, an acrylic cylinder-shaped one that had recently stored spaghetti noodles. They watched television, listening to Ryan Seacrest, and waited for the ball to drop in Times Square.

  “This has been a tough year for you, Kris.” Dean held his coffee mug up to hers. “Here’s to smoother sailing in 2012. I’m hoping for nothing but good things to happen in your life…”

  Kris smiled and clinked cups with him. “You know, I do believe this is the first New Year’s Eve that I’ve welcomed in being… sober.”

  “Really… the first?” Dean asked incredulously, but smiling.

  Kris raised her eyebrows and nodded. “I began drinking at a very young age, Dean. It’s all I knew for a long, long time. Alcohol, drugs, and yes… lots of illicit sex, too. Are you sorry you decided to welcome in a new year with someone like that?”

  “That may have been who you were once, but…that’s not the Kris I know,” he said lowering his gaze. When he looked back up into her eyes, he smiled and said. “I don’t care about your past. As far as I’m concerned, it only served to make you stronger, to make you into the person sitting beside me now. The person I know is quick-tempered and sharp-tongued, yes, but she’s also kind, loving, and compassionate.”