by Julie Allan
“Well you need to promise me you won’t just work and hang out here, all work and no play will make Lizzie a dull girl. You need to spend time with your friends and maybe find someone special,” Aunt Dorothy lectured.
“You sound like M.A. Both her and Amy have been on me to get back out there,” Lizzie shared.
“How is Amy working out with the books?” asked Aunt Dorothy.
“She is so efficient, and she has had some good suggestions on how to better negotiate with my suppliers. She has a good head for business. It must run in the family,” Lizzie answered and found herself thinking of Bennett.
“Hmm ... any more thought to Bennett? You could consider trying to rekindle things with him. That would make your Uncle George very happy,” probed Aunt Dorothy as if she had read Lizzie’s mind.
“Guilt will not make me go down that road. Besides, I think he might be involved with someone, and I don’t think he wants to be more than friends. He hasn’t made a move to ask me out since I’ve been back,” Lizzie answered.
“Could that be because you have held him at arm’s length with your attitude towards him? Honestly, I never understood why the two of you split. If you really look at him ... I mean look deep into his eyes, I think you would see there is something still there, if you aren’t too afraid,” Aunt Dorothy boldly stated.
“I ... I ... well I’m not afraid, I just don’t want to move backwards,” Lizzie sputtered.
“Child, just because Mark was a mistake, that doesn’t mean everyone in your past is one too. Alright I can see this conversation has gotten your knickers in a twist, so I will table it for now, but when we are communicating back and forth from across the globe I want to hear that you are being social and getting out there,” Aunt Dorothy chided.
“Yes ma’am, I will do my best. Now let’s go down and cook your last home-cooked meal together. I picked up some shrimp on the way home,” Lizzie said. The two women enjoyed a final quiet evening together cooking and soaking up each other’s company.
The next day Lizzie saw Aunt Dorothy off to the airport. She would meet up with Maggie in Atlanta. For the first time in weeks, Lizzie felt an uneasy loneliness settle over her. Driving back to the shop, their conversation from the night before paraded through her brain, and like a slap across the face, she realized, I would want to try again with Bennett. I’m not afraid, I’m ashamed that I ended things the way I did. Besides he doesn’t want me, so that ship has sailed. I need to resolve to move on.
As she pulled into her parking spot and headed into the kitchen, she pushed all thoughts of Bennett out of her head, or at least that is what she told herself. Bennett was making that fairly difficult as he had settled into the habit of stopping in daily, for coffee and biscuits or sometimes for lunch. She found herself watching and waiting for his appearances and looking forward to the light-hearted exchanges between them. Their friendship was slowly rekindling and Lizzie suspected that Bennett was as pleased about it as she was. Still, she could not bring herself to tell him how badly she felt about how she had treated him all those years ago and it hung there between them an obstacle neither one of them could figure out how to overcome.
Chapter Twelve
The humid days of September whirled by and reluctantly relinquished their grip on the Lowcountry. It was finally October, football season was in full swing. It would be at least a month before any leaves turned colors in the early morning there was a hint of crispness to the air as Lizzie rode her bike down to The Biscuit Box. Soon it would be too dark to ride her bike, but this morning she was enjoying the carefree feeling pedaling to work.
Amy was coming by to update the books after she got her kids off to school and before she had to run and pick up the two youngest—Charlie and Faith, from the preschool. Lizzie had adjusted her menu to reflect some of the seasonal changes and was looking forward to seeing how her regular customers would respond. She had replaced several salads with a crabmeat casserole with toast points, a gumbo, and butternut squash bisque. She had switched out the fruit butters that accompanied her biscuits for a pumpkin butter, a sweet potato butter, and a cranberry butter and she had also added a warm apple cider to the drink choices. She had barely been in business for two months and if the projections for the next few weeks were accurate, she would turn a modest profit by the time the calendar rolled into November.
Amy arrived at nine o’clock and got right to work in the small office off the kitchen. When Lizzie could step away from the front she brought Amy a mug of her favorite chai tea and a warm scone.
“Yum, thanks,” Amy said. “I looked over the menu changes. I definitely need to bring mom by. She is wild about butternut squash,” Amy continued.
“I remember her being a fan of most soups too,” Lizzie replied.
“You know she is pleased as punch about you being back here. I think she is hoping you and Bennett will find your way back to each other.” Amy looked at Lizzie trying to gauge her reaction.
Lizzie sighed. “I don’t think your brother has any interest. Besides who can blame him? I was so judgmental and snobby to him when we broke up.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way, but then again he keeps his matters of the heart to himself. I just want the both of you to be happy,” Amy responded.
“I appreciate that. I’ve not exactly been batting a thousand in the romance department,” Lizzie said.
“I heard. M.A. felt so bad about what happened, but she and I do agree we need to help get you back out there. So if my brother is off the table, I have a guy I would like you to meet. His name is John Ayers and he has his own computer repair business. I’ve done the books for him for the last two years,” Amy said.
“What makes you think we would be a match?” Lizzie asked.
“I don’t know that you are, just that he is a nice guy. I do need to tell you he had an ATV accident about five years ago and has a prosthetic leg as a result. He was a little sensitive about it when I first met him, but now he seems much more comfortable. You would not necessarily notice if you weren’t looking for it,” Amy explained.
“Well, what have I got to lose? I did promise Aunt Dorothy I would keep getting on with life while she was gone. It would be nice to have something to tell her in one of our email exchanges,” Lizzie smiled.
“Great! We are planning to get a group together to meet at Red’s to watch the Clemson-Georgia game on Saturday. That would be a low pressure way for the two of you to meet,” Amy said.
“Okay, I will mark it on my calendar,” Lizzie answered, and allowed herself to feel a glimmer of hope.
Later that week, Mrs. McGantry came in for lunch. “Lizzie, dear this crab casserole is divine!” she exclaimed.
“Glad you like it, Mrs. McGantry,” Lizzie answered. “I had a wonderful email from your Aunt Dorothy. What a hoot! The train worker strike in Spain had them taking a bus into France in the wee hours of the morning,” Mrs. McGantry continued. “I wanted to ask you a small favor my dear. I have plans to go with a friend up north to see the fall leaves and my Sweet Pea, that’s my cat, will need someone to check in every few days to put fresh food and water out, give her a few pats. Can I count on you?” She asked using the same tone and expression that got everyone to participate in the annual church bake sale, even folks who didn’t know a scone from a turnover.
Lizzie knew she could earn major points with Mrs. McGantry if she said yes, but was also worried she would somehow not care for Sweet Pea to the caliber Mrs. McGantry would expect. As she hesitated, she heard Uncle George’s voice in her head saying to her, “Kindness costs nothing to give, but is worth more than all the riches on the earth.”
“Of course, I would be glad to look in on Sweet Pea,” Lizzie answered.
“Thank you so much dear. On Saturday I’ll bring you a key and a list of instructions,” Mrs. McGantry said as Lizzie headed back to the kitchen to check on the
casseroles she had going in the oven.
On Saturday, Lizzie opened the shop and Mr. Lee came in for coffee and biscuits. “Do you want your usual chicken and rice casserole on Wednesday?” Lizzie asked as she rang up his purchases.
“Not this week, Lizzie. I’m headed out of town. Be back next weekend though. See you then.”
Lizzie watched as he headed out the door. Was there a little pep in his step? Shortly after, Mrs. McGantry arrived with a four-page, typed list of instructions and the key to her house. “I know you will just love my precious Sweet Pea. She has quite a few years on her, but she is my heart. I can’t imagine not having her around,” Mrs. McGantry gushed.
“I will do my absolute best and follow your instructions to the letter,” Lizzie answered.
“I knew I could count on you dear. I am leaving tomorrow afternoon and will be back on Thursday night. Got to run! Have so many more things to do before I jet off.” And with a wave of her hand, Mrs. McGantry sailed out the door with an energy Lizzie had never witnessed from her before.
“Well, who would have believed that?” Laura said as she wiped down the counter next to Lizzie. “I didn’t think that woman had a cheerful bone in her body.”
“One thing I’ve learned lately, is you never know how a person can be or how they can change,” Lizzie replied, smiling. If Mrs. McGantry can go from stuffy to cheerful, then I can go from shallow to looking beneath the surface.
As the brunch crowd faded away, Lizzie went over some afternoon pickups with Laura, and then headed home to take the dogs out and make a quick change. It was almost time to head over to Red’s on Shem Creek before the big game, and meet this nice guy, John Ayers. It was still quite warm, so she wore sandals with her blue jeans and put on a Clemson shirt so there would be no mistaking for whom she was rooting.
The sky was a deep autumn blue and small wisps of white clouds drifted above, not shielding anyone from the intense afternoon sun. Amy and their crowd were gathered near the bar on the dockside deck in sight of several televisions broadcasting the pre-game hoopla. Pitchers of beer had been ordered and an assortment of appetizers was being debated when she walked up.
“Hey, glad you could make it,” Amy said.
M.A. came up on her other side and leaned in for a hug. “Good news, the house in Richmond is under contract for twenty-thousand over the asking price, so Jim and I put in an offer on the Darrell Creek house,” she said.
“That is great news! I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you will get it,” Lizzie responded.
Jim, Scott and Bennett were debating the merits of the starting line-up and the performance of the teams so far this season, boldly making predictions of what all the stats meant for the outcome of this game. Bennett turned and gave her a wave. She waved back and whispered to Amy, “A little awkward meeting someone new with Bennett here.”
“Well maybe it will get my little brother to realize the great opportunity he is missing,” Amy whispered back. Before Lizzie could respond, Amy was calling out, “We’re over here, John.”
Lizzie turned to see an auburn haired, broad shouldered man walking towards them. She felt herself blush. She could not see his eyes because he had on aviator sunglasses, but she imagined they would be green. Amy took care to introduce John to the guys first and then on to the girls, saving Lizzie for last. They found themselves smiling at each other and chatted about the game and the weather and lots of typical social conversation. John quickly drained his beer and grabbed another out of the bucket he had ordered when Lizzie excused herself to the restroom.
M.A. followed her. “So what do you think?” she asked.
“I think he is a nice guy. Don’t know that I can say any more than that,” Lizzie answered.
“I guess that’s fair. I hope third time is the charm,” M.A. replied.
When they rejoined the group, John had drifted over to the guys and was intently watching as the second quarter came to an end. He was deeply engaged in conversation with Bennett and Scott about sports. I guess he’s not interested, Lizzie thought. She was sitting at one of the tables the group had commandeered on the deck when John came over and joined her.
“So, Bennett tells me you are new to the small business world,” he said.
“He is correct about that,” Lizzie said, and felt herself flushing at the idea Bennett had discussed her with him. Wanting to steer the conversation away from anything he may have discussed with Bennett, she began to extol the virtues of the Clemson quarterback, who was leading the team with two touchdowns over Georgia.
“Yeah, he can do all that, and I bet most men here could do some of the same, but none of them can do this,” John interjected. Without any warning, he reached up the leg of his shorts, removed his prosthetic, grabbed the pitcher of beer from the table, emptied it into his leg and proceeded to guzzle down the beer.
The talking around them ground to a halt. Although a roar had erupted on the other side of the deck as Clemson scored another touchdown, their crowd did not even notice. All eyes were on John and Lizzie.
“Um, was it something I said?” Lizzie whispered.
John pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. His eyes looked angry and were not the green she had imagined, but a brown that was not chocolate but more like deep mud.
In a sarcastic voice, John mimicked her, “Was it something I said.’ Look lady, there is more to a man than how he can run and perform on a football field.”
“B ... but I was just talking football. I wasn’t judging you!” Lizzie sputtered, her cheeks burning. M.A. swooped in to move her away. Bennett moved towards John, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Lizzie heard him say, “Hey buddy, I think you have had enough. Let me drive you home.” Then she could not hear anymore as Scott and Jim had circled around blocking her view and her earshot. A short time later, with his leg restored, John was helped out to Bennett’s truck and taken home. Jim followed in John’s car.
“Well strike three and I’m out,” she said to M.A. and Amy.
“No, you can’t give up that easy,” M.A. said.
Amy concurred and added, “Just you wait. A great love is still around the corner for you, you’ll see.”
Lizzie gave them a weak smile. “Somehow I doubt that, but I am so glad I have friends who can continue to cheer me on despite my disastrous track record.” As Clemson ran down the clock for another win, Lizzie headed home and drowned her sorrows in a large bowl of caramel ice cream.
After work on Wednesday, she swung by Mrs. McGantry’s for the last time. She would be home tomorrow and so far taking care of Sweet Pea had been a breeze. Her only concern was the cat, who had not touched her food. Maybe she was just missing her human. After all, Lucky and Ella had been known to do the same on the rare occasions she had been away from them.
When she opened the door and Sweet Pea went streaking by her and sought cover under the holly bush in the side yard, Lizzie was taken by surprise. Sweet Pea was an indoor cat and until now had shown no interest in what was going on outside her door. Lizzie left the door open and went to check the food and water. Again, nothing appeared to be touched. She went back to the door and tried to coax Sweet Pea back inside—first calling her, then trying to entice her with treats.
After an hour, Lizzie was losing patience. Sweet Pea was more obstinate than ever, settling deeper under the prickly leaves. Lizzie sighed, and spoke to the cat. “Okay have it your way. I will put your food and water bowls here by the door and come back in a couple of hours to get you in for the night.” Seeming to understand, the cat let out a pitiful meow.
Lizzie rode her bike home and after supper and walking the dogs she jumped in her car and headed back under a starlit sky. The air was definitely on the chilly side and she pulled a sweatshirt over her head. It would definitely help protect her from the holly leaves if she had to get in the bush to get Sweet Pea back inside. The food w
as still untouched by the door and she could see Sweet Pea sleeping under the bush. She called to her, but heard no response. She moved in closer, shaking the branches gently—still no response. Lizzie felt a pit of dread develop in her gut. She reached in and touched Sweet Pea. No response. Sweet Pea seemed oddly stiff. Lizzie leaned down and shone a flashlight onto the cat’s face. The edge of Sweet Pea’s tongue was protruding out of her mouth.
Lizzie jumped back. Oh my God! I’ve killed Mrs. McGantry’s cat! I will never be in her good graces again. I will have to close the store and move to Siberia to escape her wrath. She paced in and out of the house, unsure of what to do next. Then, without really thinking about it, she found herself calling Bennett.
“Bennett, help. Oh my God. I have done something horrible. You’ve got to come and help!”
“Slow down, Lizzie, where are you?”
“I’m at Mrs. McGantry’s.”
“On my way,” he said and the line disconnected. Ten minutes later, he found her pacing on the sidewalk in front of the house. “What happened?” he asked, seeing the distress on her face.
“I ... I killed Sweet Pea! Now I will have to move to Siberia! I don’t want to move! I don’t want to close the store! I’m going to have to break my lease ...”
“Back up, who is Sweet Pea?” Bennett asked.
“Mrs. McGantry’s cat. I was cat-sitting while she went on a trip. I knew I should have said no, but Uncle George ... oh, never mind. What should I do? She will hunt me down and kill me!”
Bennett started to laugh. He tried to control it, but soon was doubled over and hooting as if she had just delivered some amazing stand-up routine.
“Stop it Bennett! This is not funny!” Lizzie yelled at him.
Bennett managed to get himself back in control. “Lizzie, I thought you had done something more serious, like killed Mrs. McGantry—you know, finally losing your cool with her condescending ways ... although lately she has been awfully friendly. Anyway, I thought her cat died years ago. She got that cat way back when we were in grade school! It must have been ancient.”