Becca aimed a thumb at the Sanders home. “They’re whipping up chocolate chip pancakes over there, if that interests you.”
“They’re really good too,” Tiffany said. “My mom makes the best pancakes.”
“Is that right?” He rubbed his chin. “I think that means you can stay awhile longer, Dee.”
Becca put a hand in the air. “Forward, march!”
The girls marched in time behind Becca, and Kory went the other direction. The side door was open, so he pulled the screen and walked inside. “Hello?”
“Kory, we’re in the kitchen,” Janelle called.
He continued through the small laundry area and crossed the narrow hall into the kitchen. “Good morning, everybody. Hey, I see the pastor heard about the pancakes as well.”
Travis put his fork down and rose to give Kory a hearty handshake. “Right. ‘Heard.’ Lifelong friend, now neighbor and member of my congregation, and I can’t get a personal invitation to a pancake breakfast. Had to hear about it next door.”
“It’s rough out here, man.” Kory joined him at the table.
Janelle looked back from the griddle. “You told me you eat at the diner every Saturday morning.”
Travis took his seat again. “That was before my friends moved in down the street. Between you and Todd, I knew somebody’d have breakfast going.” He scooped up a forkful of sausage and pancakes. “Don’t forget I’m just a lonely ol’ bachelor.”
“Aw, poor Travis.” Libby poured a glass of orange juice.
“Libby.” Travis lowered his fork and looked directly at her. “Can we talk before you go back to Raleigh?”
She stared back from where she stood at the counter. “I doubt it. We’ve got a big event tomorrow, and I’m about to head out.”
“Ten minutes, Libby?”
She cut her eyes over at him. “Fine.”
Janelle looked back and forth between them, then over at Kory. “Sooo, Kory, can I get you some nice hot pancakes?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She gestured to two mixing bowls. “I made one batch with chocolate chips and one without. What’s your preference, sir?”
Kory smiled. He and Janelle may have met sixteen years ago, but they still had a lot to learn about one another. “My contribution to my firm’s fund-raising cookbook was chocolate chip pancakes and chocolate chip cheesecake . . . recipes honed from years of much love. I’ll take the ‘with.’ ”
“Did you just say chocolate chip cheesecake?” Libby took the seat by Kory. “I will personally buy you the ingredients and forget I ever heard of eating right.”
“I didn’t know you could cook, Kory.” Janelle poured batter onto the griddle. “Or are those two items the extent of your repertoire?”
“Do I detect doubt as to my skill level?”
“That’s what I heard.” Travis was finishing his batch of regular pancakes. “But I’m not saying anything.”
Janelle held the spatula aloft. “Skill level? You said that like you can really burn.” She cocked her head sideways. “For some reason I just don’t see it.”
“Okay.” A mischievous smile was forming. “I’ll take that as a challenge. When I respond, it’ll speak for itself.”
“Ohhhh.” Travis leaned over and fist-bumped Kory. “That’s good, that’s good.”
“You know what, Travis?” Janelle flipped the pancakes. “You might want to stay completely out of cooking conversations.”
Travis put his hand to his heart. “See, Janelle, you were a member in good standing till just now.” He let his eyes rest on the griddle. “But you can work your way back with another pancake.”
Kory laughed and got up to pour a cup of coffee. “Grandma Geri resting?”
“She’s at the hospital,” Janelle said. “Got a chest infection, and they wanted to keep her overnight. Aunt Gladys is with her. I called a little while ago and she’s much better.”
“Next chemo treatment is Monday, right?” Travis asked.
“That’s right.”
“I want to sit with her for a while.”
“She’ll like that, Travis.”
Daniel walked in, his eyes barely open, wearing Spider-Man pj’s.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Janelle lifted a pancake to see if it was done. “Come here and give your mom a hug.”
Daniel hesitated, looking around the room.
Janelle put her hand on her hip. “Daniel Evans. I know you’re not embarrassed to hug your mom in front of company.”
He shuffled over and leaned his head into her chest.
Janelle kissed him on the forehead. “Say good morning to everybody.”
Daniel turned. “Good morning, Pastor Brooks and Mr. Miller. Hey, Libby.”
“Oh, everybody else gets the formal greeting, and I get ‘Hey, Libby’?” She pointed a finger at him. “Ms. Sanders to you, young man.”
Janelle scooped the pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate. “Here you go, Mr. Miller.”
“Thank you, Ms. Evans.” Kory laughed. “But seriously, I understand props for the pastor, but can I just be Kory? I look for my dad when I hear ‘Mr. Miller.’ ”
“I’m trying to shake up the formal thing too,” Travis said. “Todd and I talked about it last night. We’re still young and not into the formalities. I love that the young people are calling me Pastor Trav.”
“I like that,” Janelle said. “And you don’t have to worry about me being formal. I’ve known you too long. But you can bring your plate over so I can get back in good standing.”
Travis was up in a flash. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, Member Evans.”
Daniel tugged on her shirt. “Mom, the winter festival is today at our home church. I’m missing everything.” His whole body seemed to sag. “What are we doing today?”
“I’m not sure yet, Daniel. I want to spend some time next door helping Todd and Becca clean up and get their house ready to move into next week—”
“Aw, Mom, that’s boring. There’s nothing to do around here.”
Kory felt for him. Had to be hard moving to a new place, on top of trying to cope without his dad. He saw it firsthand with Dee.
“Daniel, you might be able to help me with something,” Kory said.
Daniel looked at him, a tad hopeful.
“There’s this new movie out—I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. Return of the Green Goblin.”
“Yeah! That’s the one I’ve been talking about.”
“The problem is,” Kory continued, “I’ve always been a fan of those movies, but Dee’s not, and she’s probably too young anyway. And I’m a little embarrassed to walk in by myself, a grown-up without a kid attached. Think you could go with me today?”
Daniel looked at Janelle. “Mom, can I? You have to say yes.”
Janelle looked amused. “Well. I don’t have to. But you can go. Yes.”
He hugged her waist without hesitation this time. “Thank you, Mom.” Then he looked up. “Thank you, Mr. . . . Kory.”
“You’re welcome, Daniel,” Kory said. “I’d like to see what I can do to help out next door first, but we’ll go this afternoon, okay? That is, if your mom’ll watch Dee for me.”
“I’d love to.” Janelle turned off the flame under the griddle. “Now go get washed up, son, and then come get some breakfast.”
Daniel breezed out with much more pep than he’d entered with.
Travis walked his plate to the sink, rinsed it, and placed it in the dishwasher. Then he said something to Libby. She hesitated, then got up and followed him outside.
Janelle took the seat next to Kory. “I don’t know what to say.” She looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He held her gaze. “The feeling is mutual, for all you’ve done for Dee.”
“I’m learning a lot about you as a man, a father . . . a chef.” She smiled. “I’m glad we’re friends, Mr. Miller.”
“Likewise, Ms. Evans.” He could get lost in her prett
y brown eyes. “Likewise.”
Libby shivered slightly and crossed her arms on the back porch swing. She should’ve brought her jacket, but her mind was crowded with thoughts of what Travis would say. They hadn’t had a one-on-one conversation since college, and she’d left the last one never wanting to speak to him again.
Travis bent forward in the swing and shrugged off the jacket to his sweat suit. “Here,” he said.
She wanted to decline, but it was pretty breezy. “Thanks.” She slipped it on, inhaled his aroma.
The swing moved lazily. They looked out at the backyard that spanned the width of both houses and beyond. In the distance were dormant cornfields.
Travis looked at her. “I wanted to clear the air between us.”
“Air is fine, Travis.” She surveyed the treetops.
“Libby, clearly you hold animosity against me, and—”
“I don’t hold anything against you. I just don’t have much to say to you.” She pulled his jacket a little closer as the wind kicked up.
He glanced away. “I understand.”
“You understand.” She looked at him now. “What exactly do you understand, Travis?”
“That I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” His eyes were a deep, deep brown. “I was young and immature, and I regret a lot of things . . .”
Their eyes locked for several seconds, then she looked away. “Yeah, I regret a lot of things too.”
They sat in silence again. Libby suddenly heard a loud wail in the distance. Had to be Ethan.
“When I think back to that time . . .” Travis spoke slowly, reflectively. “I was leaving Hope Springs for Duke. I had shot up in height that summer, started lifting weights. I was always the kid whose personality made him popular, but now the girls were actually attracted to me.” He looked at her and his gaze held. “Even Libby Sanders. I always thought you were pretty when I’d see you in Hope Springs. But I knew you never saw me as special. When we ran into each other sophomore year, it was like you were seeing me for the first time.”
True. Libby had gone to a party on her campus, the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. When this fine guy started talking to her as if he knew her, she was stunned to realize it was Travis.
“I liked you, Libby. I always liked you.” The sun came from behind the clouds. “I’m not proud to admit it, but my head got big with this whole new world that opened up to me. Then I pledged a frat, and I just . . .”
“Didn’t want to commit to one girl.” She felt her jaw tightening.
He looked away.
“Didn’t mind sleeping with one, though.” The tears revealed themselves, betraying her. “And I’m not saying it was wrong to sleep together—I wasn’t into all the purity stuff like Janelle.” She swiped a tear from her face. “I just thought you at least cared about me.” Ugh. Stop crying.
He let out a heavy sigh and looked deep into her eyes. “Libby, it was wrong to sleep together, and I knew it was wrong. I turned my back on everything I’d been taught and did what I wanted in college.” He reached up and lightly brushed her face. “It wasn’t until a couple of years after college that I got serious about God again. That’s when I left my job and went to seminary in Dallas.”
Libby didn’t know why she’d tried to imply that sex outside of marriage was okay. She knew the truth. No way you could grow up in the Sanders clan and not know right from wrong. She’d simply chosen not to abide by it.
“And I did care about you,” Travis said. “How many times did I try to call you, but you refused to talk to me?”
“Why would I have talked to you at that point? I knock on your apartment door and Debbie answers? I find out you’re dating my friend?”
“We weren’t dating. She just . . . came over.”
“Travis, seriously? You think I want to hear this?”
“I just wanted you to know there was a difference in my mind. You were the one I went places with, held hands with in public.”
Libby told herself that it didn’t matter now, but her heart latched onto it anyway.
“But I never lied to you, Libby. I told you I wasn’t ready to commit to one person. Still,” he said, “I apologize anyway for not honoring God and not honoring you.”
She stared into her lap. All these years she’d held a grudge, and the only real reason was that he hadn’t felt for her what she’d felt for him. She sighed. “I appreciate the apology, Travis, and I understand where it’s coming from. Even if it’s not really necessary.”
The rusty swing was the only sound for the next few minutes as both retreated into their own thoughts.
“So how’s life for you now?” he said. “Sounds like event planning is going well.”
“It is. I enjoy what I do.”
“So, the guy who was with you at the funeral . . . that your boyfriend?”
“Al? No, he’s just a friend.”
“He looked pretty into you.”
Libby didn’t say anything.
“You’re not seeing anyone seriously?”
She looked at him. “Why?”
“Just asking.”
“No. I guess I’m like you were. Not ready to commit to one person.”
“Oh, okay.” He smirked a little. “Can I ask a question about something else, though?”
“Go on.”
He hunkered down with his elbows on his knees. “Seems like Janelle didn’t know about us.” He looked at her. “As close as you two are, why didn’t you tell her?”
Libby took her time to answer, thinking it through for herself. “You and I dated sophomore year and she didn’t come down that Christmas or Easter, or I’m sure I would’ve. But as it was, I avoided it because if I told her, she would’ve started probing. And she can always read me.” Libby paused. “I would’ve had to admit I was falling for you, and I didn’t want to admit that even to myself.”
A rabbit appeared from inside a patch of underbrush. Libby and Travis both watched as it scurried out in the open until it found another spot to hide. Travis got up, sending the swing into motion, and walked to the edge of the porch.
Todd suddenly appeared from around the corner. “Hey, there you are,” he said. “We’re ready to haul some of the mattresses into the U-Haul to take to the homeless shelter. As strong and manly as Kory and I are, we could use a little more muscle.”
“You got it, bro.” Travis’s tone was mellow. “Be right there.”
He looked back at Libby. “Just for the record,” he said, “I didn’t want to admit it either.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sunday, January 10
The after-church crowd was thick in the diner. Stephanie had begun to think she’d lost her mind to jump in on the weekend. She’d shadowed Sara Ann for a while first thing yesterday, which helped. Still, she should’ve wet her feet in a sedate, midmorning, weekday atmosphere, where people read their newspapers, sipped coffee, and let you disappear. This atmosphere—long wait, tables filled end-to-end, babies throwing food from high chairs—was really testing her nerves.
“Yes, I understand, sir . . .” Stephanie had her pencil to her notepad. “I don’t actually know if they’ll cook the blueberries inside the pancakes. I know they’ll put them on top, though.”
“Can you go find out?”
“How about I take the order of everyone at the table, and if they can’t put the blueberries on the inside, I’ll let you know?”
“I’d actually prefer you find out now.” The guy talked deliberately, as if making a management decision. “Because if they can’t, I want to order something totally different.”
You could actually give me the Plan B order right now, so I don’t have to make two trips over here just for you. “Yes, sir.”
Stephanie headed to the kitchen. Be nice. Be polite. Defer to the customer.
“Ma’am?”
Stephanie paused at one of her tables. Smile. She smiled.
“My son’s eggs are cold. Could we get another order made fresh?”
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“They were cold, really? I’m sorry about that.” Seemed like every order she picked up from the kitchen was steaming hot, but she certainly could’ve missed it.
“Well, they were hot when you brought them, but he wouldn’t eat them.” The woman smiled. “You know how kids are. He says he’ll eat them now if they’re made fresh.”
Ah, good try. Stephanie leaned over and whispered to her. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ll have to pay for a second order. But I can pop this one in the microwave for free.”
“Second option works for me,” the woman whispered back.
Stephanie took the boy’s plate and continued toward the kitchen.
“Excuse me, ma’am, can we get more syrup?” from another table.
“Absolutely, be right there.”
She walked extra fast and made it back without another interruption. She put the plate in the microwave and punched the time, then approached Hank, one of the cooks. “Can you put blueberries inside pancakes, instead of on top?”
He shrugged. “Sure, we can do that.”
“Cool.”
She poured syrup into a container, grabbed the plate from the microwave, and headed back, dropping off the syrup, the plate, and returning to the table with Mr. Blueberry.
“Yes, sir,” Stephanie said. “We can make it with the blueberries inside.”
“Actually, I changed my mind,” he said. “I’d like biscuits with gravy and eggs scrambled easy instead of blueberry pancakes.”
Stephanie nodded slowly, crossing out the original order and replacing it with the new one.
“But I’m wondering if they’ll cook the eggs with the gravy instead of pouring it on top of the biscuit afterward.”
“Okay, am I being punked?” Stephanie looked around for the camera.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you asked,” the man said.
“Uh, nothing,” Stephanie said. “I’m assuming you’ll want the biscuits and gravy regardless of how it’s cooked?”
He thought about it and gave a firm nod. “I’d say so, yes.”
“Great. Let me get the rest of your table’s order, and I’ll put yours in with your preferred method of preparation.”
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