“You can feel free to let me sample anything you want.”
She moved past him and motioned for him to follow. She led him into a large kitchen. The appliances were double the size of any he had ever seen, with more knobs than he’d know what to do with. Platters of food lined the long table in the middle of the room, all of them looking as appetizing as they smelled.
“Sit.” She pointed to a stool, and he took it, watching as she pulled a dainty dish from the cabinet.
“That’s a girl plate.”
She turned toward him and raised her eyebrows. “If you insult the plate, you don’t eat.”
“I’ve always been fond of pink and white,” he replied.
“That’s what I thought.” She set the plate down and began to fill it with different midget sandwiches. He’d never seen sandwiches so tiny. “Okay,” she said. “These are samples we worked on today. We want to make sure tomorrow is perfect. This one is a BLT.”
He leaned over to inspect it. “That is the smallest BLT I have ever seen.”
“It’s a tearoom, Zach, not a sports bar.”
“Touché.”
She began pointing. “This one’s pimento cheese—my grandmother Packer’s recipe. And this is the tomato sandwich.”
He studied the round piece of bread, spread with what seemed to be mayonnaise and topped with a tomato slice. The tomato was the perfect color of ripe red and sprinkled with salt and pepper.
Zach’s stomach growled. He set the gift-wrapped box on the table and instinctively reached for the sandwich. She slapped his hand. “Ow,” he said as he jerked it away.
“And this last one is a mini Reuben. My personal favorite.” She moved the plate in front of him. “Now you may sample.”
He wolfed down the tomato on white bread in one bite.
“Zach, you don’t inhale them. You savor them. Otherwise, you won’t even know what you ate.”
He nodded as he chewed. “I so know what I ate.” He shook his head rapidly. “That is unbelievably good. How did your husband let you go?”
Her laugh came out nervous. He wiped his mouth with the white linen napkin she had set beside him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”
She stepped back slightly. “Zach, we can’t . . .”
He stood. “You don’t even have to say it. We’re not children, and we’re not stupid either. We both know that what we’ve gone through has left us vulnerable. But that’s not the whole story here, is it? The thing is, what we’ve experienced in the past months has changed us. It’s made us into what we both desire in a spouse.”
She flushed and lowered her head, and he knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. He walked around the table to where she stood.
“Oh, Grace, I’m so sorry. If I can get my foot out of my mouth, I’ll try to say that a little better.”
She looked up at him, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “It’s okay. I understand what you were trying to say. And you’re right. What I see in you now is what my heart desired all those years with Tyler.”
He leaned against the counter beside her. “And you’re experiencing the kind of freedom I long for Caroline to know. And it just . . . it makes you so beautiful to me.”
She moved away again as the tears started to flow. “Zach, don’t . . .”
“I’m not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Look, you know my story, what I’m capable of. It would be a lie to say I haven’t been tempted. I mean, look at you. But I’ve been there, done that. I’ve already taken two women and devalued them—Caroline and Elise. And my greatest mistake with both of them was I didn’t see them. Not really. Not their hearts.
“But I see you, Grace. I really do see you. I value your heart too much to wound it. And you know what? For the first time in maybe my entire life, I value my heart too much as well.
“So today is just about coming by and telling you congratulations on your new place. You’ve completely transformed it from that empty storefront with the nasty carpet I had to sit on the first day I was in here.”
She pulled her apron up and wiped at her tears, leaving a fresh splotch of flour on her cheek. “That carpet was nasty.”
“Rancid. But look what you’ve done with it. How far you’ve come. What you’ve created.” He chuckled. “Granted, it’s a little pink for my tastes, but it’s going to be great. And I want you to know I admire you—not just for what you’ve accomplished, but for what you’ve become. For your beautiful, brave heart.”
She wouldn’t lift her head to look at him. So he reached over and brushed the flour from her cheek. “In another life, another world, this . . . this connection we share could have gone somewhere. But that’s not the way things are. I have a wife out there. I have no idea what she’s going to decide about herself or our marriage, but she’s entitled to my whole heart. And that’s what I intend to give her, if she’ll have me.”
She looked up now. “It’s the right thing. You know it is. And I really do hope that your marriage becomes everything you’ve ever dreamed it could be.”
Now he was the one to lower his head. He rubbed one Sperry against the other. “Me too. But even if it doesn’t, I’ve got to focus on my healing. Which means I need to—”
She laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Zach, no matter what mistakes you’ve made in your past, I know the man you’re becoming will make a wonderful husband. Any woman would be privileged to love you.”
He half smiled, half grimaced, those words so bittersweet. And final. “Thank you.” He looked back down at his little plate of sandwiches.
“You can finish those before you leave if you want.”
“As long as you promise you’ll never tell my male friends I was in a tearoom.”
She chuckled. “Your feminine side is safe with me.”
He ate the Reuben in two bites and remarked with each bite. She did nothing but smile—that warm and beautiful smile. When he finished, he caught sight of the gift still sitting next to his plate. “Oh, Grace, I’m an idiot. Here.” He pressed the gift toward her. “This is really why I came.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Zach?”
“No, take it. It’s a restaurant-warming gift. Or whatever you call something like this.”
As she pulled the pretty ribbon from the box, it released in one tug. Then she did what women do—daintily pulled at the wrappings instead of tearing into them like a guy would. Zach could have eaten another plate of those mini sandwiches in the time it took her to open it. When she lifted the lid from the box, her eyes widened. And there came the tears again.
“All right, seriously. How can you cry over that? It’s a sign.”
She pulled the sisal rope handle out of the box. From it hung a hand-painted wooden sign with the word Open in hot pink on one side and Closed in hot pink on the other. “Oh, this is so thoughtful. I haven’t even thought about needing one of these.”
“Well, I saw it in a shop window and thought it was perfect for you.”
She pointed to the lettering. “You know this is pink, don’t you?”
“Hot pink, actually. And shopping for pink isn’t exactly my thing. But I do have two girls, remember. So it’s not the first time, I assure you.”
She got that giddy-girl way about her that he’d seen before when she was excited—a kind of hop and a really big smile and dancing eyes. “Let’s go hang it up.”
He inclined his head toward the covered plates on the table. “If I help you do that, can I come back and sample some of these desserts before I leave?”
“I’ll send you home with a goodie bag. How’s that?”
He motioned toward the door. “Lead the way.”
They walked to the front of the store, and she flitted toward the entrance. A small pink toolbox sat on one of the front tables. “You’ve got to be kidding me” was all he could say.
She ignored him. Reaching into the box, she pulled out a nail and a hammer with a pink ha
ndle.
“Scarlett Jo has brainwashed you.”
She kept walking toward the door. “She gave me this. She said every woman needs her own toolbox.” She took the small nail and positioned it near the top of the glass-paned door. When it was where she wanted, she hammered it in, then lifted the handle and hung her sign up proudly. She went outside and closed the door, moving out farther to study her handiwork. She tilted her head to each side as if that would make it look different. And then she smiled. Wide. It made him smile too.
She came back inside, closing the door behind her, then walked straight toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her mouth close to his ear, and her words came out whispered and true. “Thank you, Zach Craig. Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held on for a moment too. They stood there in the quiet of the store, the aromas of tea and fresh paint and food from heaven filling every crevice. She patted his back in a kind way. As he started to release her, he looked toward the window.
The expletive flew out of his mouth before he could catch it.
“What?” Grace asked as she let go. Then she realized he was staring out the window and turned toward it quickly.
Caroline’s face was in clear view. Before either Zach or Grace could say another word, Caroline’s hand was on the door handle and she was in the store. “I knew it was all a lie, Zach Craig. I knew you could never do it. So what are you going to do, sleep with every woman on the block?”
He felt that little boy in him wanting desperately to hide. He moved back. He had done it for so long, it just came naturally. Grace turned and looked at him, clearly more concerned for him than for herself.
“How dare you tell me all the things in me that need to change when you’re still a lying coward of a man? And you!” She turned to Grace. “You’re nothing but a—”
“That’s enough, Caroline.” Zach gently moved Grace to the side. His voice came out stronger than even he had expected.
“What do you mean, that’s enough?” Her tone was snide and mocking.
“You won’t talk to Grace that way. She has done nothing, and you won’t accuse her of anything.”
Caroline glared at him. “I will say whatever I want to you and to her.”
He moved closer to her, and this time he would make sure he wasn’t offering a discussion. “No, you won’t. You will not say anything else to her because your accusations are wrong and unwarranted. She was a client who became a friend, and she is opening a business, so I gave her a grand opening present.” He gestured toward the sign. “That is what happened here.”
He stepped closer still to his wife. “Caroline, I love you. You are the woman I gave my heart to, what seems like a lifetime ago. You are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Her stunned expression made it clear she had no idea what to do with his words. He wasn’t finished. “So you can deal with that however you want to, but you won’t—and let me make this very clear—you will not stand here and accuse me and Grace of anything because we weren’t doing anything wrong here.”
She just stood there, obviously fuming.
He said it again, a little more loudly. “Do I make myself clear?”
She turned on her three-hundred-dollar heels and walked out, slamming the door. The new sign beat against the glass. Zach and Grace both stood there for a minute, too stunned to say anything.
Finally Zach turned toward Grace. “Can I have that goodie bag to take with me?”
Her brown eyes darted up at him. “Um, yeah. Sure.”
By the time he left Sweet Tea, Zach Craig felt freer than he had ever been.
Scarlett Jo hadn’t walked before church this morning—quite honestly because she hadn’t wanted to. She hadn’t wanted to walk yesterday either, but Grace and Rachel had hounded her to death, and she was a sucker for those scones. Holding them in front of her nose had been downright evil.
Anyway, she had finally gotten out to walk after Sunday lunch.
She passed Fifth Third Bank and couldn’t help but wonder, as she did every time she passed it, what happened to the first, second, third, and fourth third banks. That name didn’t make a lick of sense to her.
She left the bank and its issues behind her and thought about her own. She realized she hadn’t really prayed through this current situation. She had cried out some accusations a few times, but she’d never tried to engage God in dialogue or even stopped to listen to what he might be trying to say to her. That was something else she hadn’t really wanted to do. She just hadn’t felt like talking to him.
“I’m a little peeved, you know,” she said to the October day, the air still warm in the dots of sunshine that filtered through the red and gold leaves overhead. “I hadn’t counted on all this. I thought he was gone for good, like a bad hemorrhoid or something.” She caught herself and chuckled. “Lord, have mercy. I wonder if you ever get tired of my crude analogies. If you had given me a girl, maybe I’d be a little more refined.”
She felt as if heaven laughed at that. She swatted her hand toward the sky and said, “I know. Wouldn’t have made a lick of difference.”
Her pink-and-white tennis shoes moved quietly across the solidness of the concrete. “I just didn’t realize I’d have to fight that battle again.”
Over and over. The words came like a flash to that quiet place deep inside her.
“But I want it to be done. Finished. Finito. Bon voyage. Arrivederci. Poo-poo.”
Nothing followed that.
“I tell my boys all the time how valuable their hearts are, how they need to fight for them and keep them connected to you and listen for what you’re saying. I haven’t been doing that for the last week or so. But I’m doing it now. So what are you saying?”
She walked in silence for a few blocks. Her heart desperately wanted to hear something from God. Anything. She read street signs, plaques on houses, historical markers—anything to try to get a “thus saith the Lord.” But she didn’t get a thing except more frustrated.
As she rounded the corner to Church Street, she caught sight of Caroline Craig headed for her front door. Her steps were determined across the brick courtyard. And she was obviously crying.
Scarlett Jo didn’t feel like checking on Caroline any more than she felt like staying up with Tucker and his stomach issues after a fish fry. But she felt that familiar tug.
“I’m not gonna do it,” she muttered back to the sky.
It tugged harder.
Caroline’s sobs grew louder. Or at least they seemed to.
“Oh, for all that is Southern and sweet, if she says one stupid thing, I swear I’m going to slap her.” Scarlett Jo marched to the gate and crossed the courtyard to Caroline’s front door. She and Caroline reached it about the same time.
Startled at Scarlett Jo’s sudden appearance, Caroline tried to stifle her cries. She sniffed hard, multiple times, then began to rummage through her purse. “Scarlett Jo, what are you doing here?”
“I have no idea” was all she could muster.
“Well, if you’re going to ask me to come back to that church of yours, you can forget it.”
Caroline finally fished out a tissue and blew her nose—rather unattractively for someone who acted so refined.
“Wow, that was loud,” Scarlett Jo blurted out.
Caroline’s brow furrowed. “If you’re here to insult me, I’m not in the mood. In fact, I’d rather spend the rest of my life without encountering you or that husband of yours who dishes out his two cents’ religion and psychobabble hogwash.”
Scarlett Jo started to bristle. Then she heard: Hurt people hurt people. She’d preached that to her boys a thousand times, but she was now hearing it for her own life, her own pain—and for Caroline’s.
“Your husband is a thoughtless jerk,” Scarlett Jo said.
That stopped Caroline cold. It was apparently the last thing she had imagined Scarlett Jo would say. She sniffed
again. “Yeah . . . yeah. He is.”
“What if he’s always a jerk?”
Caroline dabbed her nose with the tissue. Her forehead wrinkled. She shook her head slowly, thoughtfully. “I don’t know.”
“What if he never changes? What if he continues to make decisions dictated by what’s in his pants?”
Caroline’s frown grew deeper.
“I’m serious. What if for the rest of his life he makes decisions that he shouldn’t, and there you are? What do you do then?”
Scarlett Jo watched Caroline’s eyes narrow and twitch and imagined her mind searching wildly to figure out what Scarlett Jo was trying to get at. “I don’t know.”
“What of that can you control, Caroline? Truly control?”
She watched as Caroline’s jaw started to pulse. She could see fury building.
“Get mad if you want. But get mad at what needs to be gotten mad at, sugar. And last I checked, I’m not it.”
Caroline started digging into her purse again, obviously looking for her keys.
“How long are you going to run?”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed into slits, and her words came out in an angry whisper. “I have nothing to run from.”
“Oh yes, you do. You have been running from yourself for who knows how long.”
Caroline dug harder. Scarlett Jo prayed she wouldn’t find the keys until she was through saying what needed to be said. “Caroline, you are one of the most beautiful women I know—on the outside. You are. But, baby girl, that beauty has been swallowed up by all the ugly you’re toting around on the inside. So how long are you going to wear yourself out trying to control everything?”
“I am so sick of this!” Caroline threw her purse down in frustration.
Scarlett Jo took that as an answer to prayer. “That’s good,” she said. “What are you sick of?”
Caroline’s hands clenched into fists as tears rushed down her face. “I’m sick of everyone trying to tell me what is wrong with me! What I’ve done wrong. What I need to change.”
“Okay. Good. What else?”
“Ooh!” she let out in an angry burst. “There’s nothing else.”
Secrets over Sweet Tea Page 31