by Nancy Naigle
“What?”
“Timeless Tea. That would be the perfect name for my shop. I’d never been able to come up with the right name. Not until right this second. You are an angel. Maybe this is a sign.”
It was hard not to get caught up in her excitement. “Maybe it is. Good luck!”
“My son is going to be so excited for me. He’s been on me to get busy on a project or hobby or something. He’ll be so surprised.”
“He sounds like an angel.”
“He is. Handsome too.” She gave Savannah a wink. “He’s single, you know.”
“Too bad I live so far away.” How else do you politely tell a woman you have zero interest in a blind date with her perfect son, which was clearly what she was angling for? She scanned the room for pictures of him. In that moment, she realized there were no pictures out, but there were empty spaces where they had been, like on the mantel. And on the end table there was even a rectangular spot amid the dust where something had been plucked from its place. He was probably as ugly as all get out. Even his momma didn’t want to scare her off. Now that was bad.
“Now dear, what’s really holding you up there in Washington, DC? You said yourself you could work from anywhere.”
“That’s true. I could.”
“Or you could do a different job. Maybe you should follow your dreams, just like you’re telling me.”
Savannah wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. The truth was, she’d never stopped—heck, even paused—long enough to consider what it was she really wanted out of life, or what her dreams even were. She’d just run full-speed ahead with the first thing she’d tried—working for the paper. There’d been a time when she and Momma had talked about her going to culinary school, but that hadn’t seemed fun once Momma was gone. So she’d put her focus on the first work she landed. Anything to keep her days busy and herself so exhausted that she might sleep, because those nights when she lay there wide awake thinking about her parents, that was almost more than she could bear. And some nights it felt like just yesterday that God had snatched them from her life.
“What kind of jobs are there in a small town the size of Adams Grove?” Maybe there’d be a hook in that subject.
“A lot of people work over at the prison. And there’s the plant. They used to employ a few hundred people there making chipboard, but they shut that down a while back. But we have probably all the same stuff you have in the city, just fewer of them. I mean, we have banks, and stores, and a newspaper and library. Everything a family needs.”
“Not as many differences under the covers as you think at first glance between big cities and small towns, I guess.”
Daphne pursed her lips. “Well, we don’t have public transportation. Amtrak used to stop through here, but they canceled that stop. The bus station closed down on Main Street, so now they pick up over at the truck stop, but that’s to go to other towns, not around here. You pretty much have to have a car to get around.”
“I guess most everybody drives a car around here. In the city, public transportation is so easy.”
“I’ve been to your fair city. It feels like another planet. Everything is so intense. The volume. Traffic, people, buildings, crime . . . everything multiplied by something.” Daphne must have been bored with that conversation because she abandoned it pretty quickly, saying, “I’m so glad you accepted my invitation today. I felt a connection when we met.”
“I really appreciate you spending your time with someone just passing through.”
“You’ll be back. I just know it. Did I tell you that I even have plans drawn up for my tearoom?”
“No, you didn’t. You mean like a business plan or an architectural plan?”
“Professionally done by an architect. Sweet man. He lives on the other side of town. He and Tom were good friends. He heard me going on and on one night about the possibilities, and a week later he came back with these drawings. Want to see them?”
“I’d love to see them.”
Daphne rushed down the hall and came back carrying a cardboard tube. “They’re drawn based on the general shape and square footage of most of the buildings on Main Street. So I could pretty much make it work with any of those spaces without a lot of adjustments. They’re pretty basic, but I love the way he did the artist’s rendering with even the goodies on the tables and all.”
She pried the end of the tube off and pulled out the plans. “Grab an end,” she said to Savannah as they moved from the living room to the dining room. They spread the paper wide across the shiny wood of the dining table.
Daphne grabbed teacups from the shelf behind her and weighted the corners of the drawing.
“Oh, Daphne. You’re right.” Savannah reached out and ran her fingers across what looked like fine linen tablecloths, and there was the butterfly teapot they’d just been talking about. “I feel like I could step right into that shop and sit in that chair. It’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?”
“So many very detailed touches. The wooden drawers of tea are so elegant along that wall.”
“Yes. My Tom was so handy. He could build anything. My son would be able to help with a lot of that too. Not building the furniture, like Tom did, but he can fix just about anything. Cooks a mean steak too. He gets that from me.”
“You make him sound like Mr. Perfect.”
“He is. He just hasn’t found the right girl yet.”
“Never?”
“He’s had some serious relationships, but so far not that everlasting love that I know is out there for all of us.”
Or he was a freak. If he hadn’t settled down with the right girl yet, he was probably gay, kinky, or a player. No man was that perfect and still alone, but darn if Daphne wasn’t a sweetheart. Maybe her son was just that perfect.
“I hate to spend his inheritance, but he keeps telling me that I should follow my dreams and open up the tearoom, and if I’m not going to do that, then I should spend it all traveling to all the wonderful tearooms around the world.”
“That would be an amazing trip to take.”
“It would, but not alone. Trips aren’t about the places. They’re about sharing those places with someone else. I almost opened the tearoom a couple years ago. I was so close. Mac was selling one of his buildings, but I dragged my feet too long and his girlfriend put a yoga studio in.”
“Oh, I saw that. I love all the bright colors on the outside of that building.”
“Not that one . . . same building, but different yoga center. Mac got mixed up with this gal from up near Hale’s Vineyard. She was bad news. We all thought so, but then we all love Mac, so we might be a little protective of him. But we were right about her. She’s serving time in prison for her wrongdoing now.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.” She wondered if that had anything to do with that item in the police blotter that Scott had told her to leave out.
“It wasn’t. People always think nothing happens in a small town, but we just know how to keep our business within the town limits.”
Savannah wondered how talking within the town limits made it any different. Gossip, news, call it what you want. It traveled.
“It was pretty heartbreaking for Mac, but he’s recovered and the new gal that opened the yoga studio there is a transplant from Virginia Beach. Nice girl. A little New Age for folks around here, but I think it’s done the town good to have a little dose of health on Main Street.”
“To balance out Mac’s tasty treats?”
“You’ve sampled the bear claws, I take it.”
“Sampled? No. Inhaled? Maybe.”
“They are good. His son makes amazing cakes too. It’s been nice to have some new young folks come to town. We’re so glad Jenny opened up that yoga studio. We need more young women to move here. Did you know our population is seventy percent men?”
Maybe that was the article she’d write. A town where the odds of finding a man are in the girl’s favor. “Really? Now how many of those are of the available type?”
“I don’t know, but I do know of a few good catches right off the top of my head.”
“Well, it sure seems to be a great town to live in.”
“It is.”
“And a great town to live out your dream. So if you named the shop Timeless Tea, what would the menu look like?”
Daphne took the bait. She was off the subject of men and that perfect son of hers. This was way more fun anyway. Dreaming up ideas to spend someone else’s money was always fun.
“I always thought I could just do a pretty chalkboard with the dailies on it and have the kind of ambiance where my servers share the menu verbally. After a while everyone would know what they wanted, or even better, just always count on me to surprise them.”
“I love that idea.”
Daphne rolled up the drawing and fit it back in the tube. “Sit down. Let me bring you your tea.”
Savannah sat down at the dining room table. “I like the idea of the server bringing the personalized touch. Maybe you could even have local art in the tearoom. I heard someone talking about a painting in the yoga studio. What was it they were saying? I can’t remember.”
“I’m not even sure I’ve been in there yet. I’m a little old for twisting myself up like a pretzel. Once I got on the floor I’d likely never get up.” Daphne placed both of the cups and saucers on the table.
A loud rap at the door was followed by a man’s voice. “Hello, Mom?” The screen door slapped against the frame.
“In here,” Daphne called out. She leaned to Savannah and whispered, “That’s my son.”
Savannah took a sip from her teacup, then lifted her eyes and looked in the direction of the footsteps, then almost choked.
Sheriff Scott Calvin strode toward her, pulling his aviator-style mirrored glasses off as he got closer.
Scott stifled a laugh when he saw Savannah practically spit tea across the room. For a second there he thought he might have to resuscitate her.
She recovered pretty quickly, but not without her teacup clanking against the saucer and her spoon hitting the floor. That blush that was rising on her pretty cheeks was about as bright as the sunset on a summer night.
He’d recognized her little blue Mini Cooper straight off. No one in this town owned one of those. He’d even contemplated just rolling on by, knowing full well Mom was up to no good. Again. Wouldn’t be the first time, and he’d had that feeling on Sunday too.
Poor Savannah had no idea she was playing the starring role in a made-for-Lifetime movie written by none other than Daphne Calvin.
“Daphne is your mother?”
Savannah could’ve caught butterflies with her mouth dropped wide like that.
“Hi, Mom.” He then nodded in Savannah’s direction. “Hello to you, again.”
Daphne ran her hand though her hair and practically stuttered. “Y’all ha-have met?” She looked confused.
Savannah stammered. “We have. W-we met by accident. Sort of.”
“It was no accident. You were speeding.”
She slanted her body away from him. “Just seven miles an hour over.”
Daphne tilted her head and gave Savannah one of those shame-on-you looks. “Well, technically that is speeding, Savannah, and it is his job.”
Mom took his job as seriously as he did. He’d grown accustomed to that shame-on-you look over the years, but he could see it was affecting Savannah just like it used to affect him back in the day.
His mother’s expression softened, and she stepped closer, placing herself right between the two of them. She reached out to take one of their hands in each of her own, connecting them, and Scott wished he could lock his mom away in one of those jail cells when she got on these obsessions.
“So y’all have met. That’s so wonderful. Scott, did you know that Savannah and her mother used to have tea parties? I can’t believe I’ve met someone who loves tea as much as I do.”
“No one could possibly be as crazy about tea and teapots as you are, Mom.”
“I thought the same thing, but here she is.”
Mom was up to no good. Wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last. If he was polite, maybe Savannah would take the cue and be on her way. “I know very little about our new visitor except that she seems to be crossing my path at every turn.”
“Fate.” Daphne smiled. “It could totally be fate. Hmm. Maybe Pearl Clemmons is doing a little angel matchmaking again.”
“Pearl. I heard about Pearl,” Savannah said. “She sounded like quite a lady.”
“She was the best matchmaker this town ever had,” Daphne explained. “You’d have loved Pearl Clemmons. She passed on a while back, but she’s still in our hearts. You met her granddaughter.”
“Jill?”
“Yes, Jill. Sweet girl, and her grandmother was the heart of this town. Still is, really. No one will ever forget that woman.”
“She’s not any more special than you are, Mom.” He shot Savannah a smile.
“Mom, are you ready to go to your doctor appointment?”
“Oh, Scott. I’m so sorry. I forgot to call and let you know that they called and rescheduled my appointment just this morning. Dr. Bostic had some kind of emergency.”
Sure he did. Just how much of a pushover did she think he was? “An eye exam emergency?”
“Well, of course not. Something else. Anyway, I’m so sorry I didn’t call and tell you. But since you’re here . . . I’ve got plenty of tea, and look, I even made your very favorite little ham-and-Swiss quiches.”
His mom was already scurrying around, and it was quite clear that she’d invited him here at this time specifically with a little hookup with the new stranger in town in mind. Pearl wasn’t the only matchmaker in Adams Grove.
Scott popped a baby quiche in his mouth and chewed in silence. His mom was still scurrying, but Savannah wasn’t saying a word and as long as he kept popping quiches, he wouldn’t have to either.
“Your mom is great.”
He nodded, still chewing.
Savannah looked like she wanted to crawl under a table. “I’m sorry about this. I had no idea she was up to—”
“Don’t apologize. I know she was the one behind it. It’s fine. She’s just anxious about grandchildren. I’m getting used to her trying to help me out in that department.”
“It’s sweet.”
“It’s a pain in the ass. Want to swap moms?” Something that looked a bit like panic flickered in Savannah’s eyes. She looked so vulnerable in that fleeting moment that he wanted to pull her into his arms. Hold her. Tell her that whatever that was, it was only a memory. But that look disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The wall was back up. It was like watching a windshield wiper sweep away the emotion.
“I wish.” She lowered her eyes and her thick lashes seemed to touch her cheeks. He knew that whatever he’d seen a moment ago was something she wasn’t ready to talk about.
“Mom means well. I’ll keep her.”
Savannah smiled. “Did you decide if you’re going to the award ceremony or not?”
He knew she’d change the subject. He was a skilled negotiator—he could take her right back there if wanted to, but somehow he knew that was a painful place for her and he didn’t want to be the one to escort her there. “I’m going. You’re right. It’s a good thing to do in an election year, and in a small town I have to pull from resources across the state all the time. It’ll be good for me to renew some of those connections.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re going.” She pursed her lips.
She was struggling to keep the conversation going and keep it off her. He let her wriggle in the silence for a moment. On a two count she’d be fillin
g the space with words. He silently counted: one . . . two.
She said, “I hear that several of the large papers are going to be there.”
“How did you hear that?”
She paused.
She was scrambling for an excuse. Years of being on this side of the law had sharpened his ability to read people. She was about to lie, or tell a half-truth.
“I did a little peek online. I was curious.”
“Connor said you’re writing a book.”
She tilted her head in a nod but didn’t offer up any details.
Daphne rushed back in with three crystal flutes filled with fresh fruit and whipped cream. “A little sweet something to balance the menu.”
“Mom, I’ve got to run.”
“But—”
“Sorry. Things are hectic down at the station today. I’ll take a rain check.” He grabbed a napkin and stuffed four baby quiches in it before turning and heading out the door.
He could hear his mom apologizing to Savannah as he pulled the door closed behind him.
The summer sun wasn’t the only thing making him hot under the collar. She meant well, but he had a job to attend to. He didn’t have time for this in the middle of the day.
He’d put his money on his mom not taking the matchmaker crown from Pearl Clemmons if this was the match she’d picked. This was a setup if he’d ever seen one, but he and this city girl had zero chance of working out.
Mom had good taste. Savannah was cute. Pretty, in fact, but that wasn’t going to turn that city girl into a country girl, and he had no intention of ever leaving Adams Grove. This was his home.
CHAPTER SIX
After the visit with Daphne, Savannah couldn’t wait to spend more time with her. Yet even though her heart was full of nostalgia, her head was telling her to run for the hills. She didn’t need that kind of connection with someone she’d never see again after she left. It was a nice trek down memory lane, but getting lost in that kind of feeling again wasn’t in the plan. It was a recipe for disaster, and yet she’d already agreed to help out on Friday. She couldn’t back out on that.
Savannah couldn’t stop thinking about Scott. He’d spoken softly, and darned if he didn’t look sincere, talking to his mother. And taking her to her doctor’s appointment. How sweet was that? Momma’s voice echoed advice from long ago: If he treats his momma right, he’ll treat you right.