Recipe for Redemption

by Anna J. Stewart

  “I came in second.” In her panic over Gran, she’d almost forgotten.

  “Second? After who? That whippersnapper of a girl?” Alice frowned when Abby nodded. “This world doesn’t make sense to me sometimes. You did good, Abby. Everyone’s so proud of you.”

  What Abby wouldn’t give to never hear that phrase again. “What happened, Gran?”

  “Your grandmother’s wiped me out of half my Social Security check, that’s what’s happened,” Oscar grumbled. The grizzled, stooped man shifted in his chair and gathered up the cards. “A card shark, I tell you.”

  “Eloise?” Abby tried again. “Why is Gran here?”

  “She tripped on one of the area rugs in my front hall.” Eloise pushed up out of her chair and patted Abby’s shoulder. The former schoolteacher always had a calming aura about her. “Cracked her head something good on the table by the door. The doctors ran tests. She has a mild concussion, and as you can see, she took a bit of a beating. Given her age, they want to keep her a couple of days. We’re just waiting for her room assignment.”

  “Did they call your doctor?” Abby leaned around Eloise to ask Alice, who either didn’t hear her or pretended not to. “I’m so glad you were with her.” Clearly Alice was moving toward the phase where her being alone could be dangerous. All the more reason to keep her in familiar surroundings. Abby’s chest constricted. Where were they going to go? “She’s really okay?”

  “That depends,” Eloise said.

  So much for relief. “On what?”

  “On whether you two are going to tell us what’s really going on,” Myra said and then cackled as Oscar lost another hand to Alice. “Too much whispering between this one and her doctor. Secrets, I tell you, and I won’t have it. Not now that you’re in the fold again.”

  Abby sighed. Even after their talks, her grandmother still hadn’t confided in them about her diagnosis. Not even in Eloise. Given the look Abby was getting from Alice, she shouldn’t be thinking about outing her.

  “Well, here’s the patient I’ve been looking for.” Jason strode in, most of his upper body and face obscured by the biggest flower bouquet Abby had ever seen in her life.

  “Jason.” Abby pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I totally forgot—”

  “Sorry I’m late, but I had a stop to make.” He shifted the wheeled table to the side and set the deep, wide sea green vase down, plumping up the daisies interspersed with roses and lilies. “You have some explaining to do, young lady.”

  “Oh. My.” Alice touched trembling fingers to her lips. “Oh, lilies. My Bob used to bring me lilies every year on our anniversary. How do you know these things?”

  “Magic.” Jason dropped a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek. Abby almost whimpered. Why did this man always make her want to cry? “You know what else is magic?” Jason asked Alice. “Talking to your friends. It’s done wonders for me. Just ask your granddaughter.”

  “Now’s not the time to be lecturing me, young man,” Alice stated. “What’s this nonsense about her coming in second?”

  “Gran—”

  “Hush,” Myra ordered and pointed a stern finger at Abby. “I want his take as well. We all know Abby had more going for her on that stage than those other two. I’m betting it was rigged. They didn’t want the hometown girl stealing the spotlight.”

  Abby’s fingers tingled as she clenched her fists. Leave it to Myra to land on the truth with one leap.

  “Sometimes it’s how things go,” Jason said. “But Abby has her family and friends to support her. That’s always a good thing. Right, Alice?”

  “Like a dog with a bone,” Alice grumbled. “The two of you.”

  “How is it the city boy knows what’s going on and we don’t?” Myra asked. “Alice Manning, you’d best remember who you’re talking to and come out with it before I lose my temper.” Given her penchant for red hair coloring, her threat carried significant weight.

  “See?” Jason said. As he moved away, her grandmother’s lifelong friends encircled her, a hand grasping her blanket-covered leg, another taking her hand, and Oscar, for all his curmudgeonly habits, patted her foot. “Now watch what happens.”

  He drew Abby into the hall as she heard the word Parkinson’s escape her grandmother’s lips for the first time since she’d been diagnosed.

  “Dr. Reed,” Abby muttered when Jason turned to face the man waiting for them. Tall and a bit on the chunky side, the doctor had a round face that contorted into an understanding smile. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine, Abby. She never lost consciousness, but with head injuries, we like to be sure. At this stage, it’s as likely she tripped.”

  “You mean it wasn’t Parkinson’s related?”

  “We can’t say for sure, but I’m betting if she’d confided in her hostess for the day, Eloise would have removed those rugs. You know I treated Eloise’s sister for years.”

  “Eloise’s sister had Parkinson’s?” Abby felt a new surge of hope and support. How had she never known this? Did Gran know? She had to know, but why hadn’t she said anything? “Hopefully Gran’s learned her lesson about letting people help her.”

  “And the sling?” Jason asked.

  “A precaution,” the doctor said. “She landed pretty hard on her left shoulder. Nothing’s broken, but I’d feel better if she kept it immobile for a few days. Eloise saw the whole thing, so we were able to get an accurate account. I promise, Abby, she’s fine. You can take her home soon.”

  Alice wouldn’t stay fine. As she and Gran had discussed the other day, she was only going to get worse. And without their home... “Thank you, Doctor.” Abby hugged her arms around her waist and ducked her head, waiting for him to leave before she looked up at Jason. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to say it. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. “When are you going to realize you aren’t alone in this, Abby? Tiny as you are, you can’t spread yourself so thin.”

  “Listen to the boy,” Eloise said as she joined them in the hall. Her tangerine-colored hair glowed beneath the fluorescent lights and accentuated every earned wrinkle in her face. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “She didn’t want anyone to know.” But Abby realized now she should have told her. “It’s not embarrassment. She doesn’t want to be a burden.” Not to anyone. Not to Abby. Not to her friends. But it was obvious Abby had run out of time. She had to tell Gran the truth about the Flutterby.

  “Alice Manning of all people should know the people you love are never burdens,” Eloise scoffed. “I’ve known that woman most of my seventy-nine years. A more stubborn individual hasn’t been seen in these parts save for one person—me. And I’m laying down the law here and now. She’s stuck with me. You both are. We’ll sit her down and explain what’s what as soon as she’s feeling up to it, but until then, you do what you need to, young lady. And that includes letting us know when you need something.”

  Abby smiled, exhaustion and relief creeping over her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, your gran would like to order pizza for dinner, so we’re all going to hang out here, play some cards and make sure she and you understand you’re not in this fight alone.” She pointed through the door. “Now march. Both of you.”

  * * *

  “ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, it looks as if your grandmother and Mr. Vartebetium will be settling back in at the Flutterby about the same time,” Jason said. “Gives you a chance to figure things out.”

  As it was close to ten, Abby bypassed the Flutterby and Lori and went straight to her cottage. What was there to figure out? Without the fifty thousand dollars, her choices had gone from promising to nonexistent. Maybe things would look better in the morning. Abby unlocked her front door and clicked the light on.


  “Since when are you the optimist?” She realized she sounded cranky, but that’s what happened when anger, frustration and Roger-defined secrets and lies bored down on her.

  “Turning people into optimists must be your superpower.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Any idea what happens now?”

  “I’m betting Mr. V will call a staff meeting and break the news he’s selling to the highest bidder.” She dived into the fridge. “Wine or beer?”

  “Beer sounds good, thanks. You don’t think he’ll give you the rest of those three weeks to come up with something else?”

  “That time hinged on me winning, something that didn’t pan out. As nice as the check they presented me with was, it won’t go very far.” Especially not after taxes. Taxes. Again. She handed him a beer and poured a large glass of wine. Then hugged the bottle in her arms as if it were a security blanket.

  “You should eat something. I can cook.”

  “Food really isn’t on the top of my list right now.” But that didn’t stop her from ripping open a bag of BBQ chips and diving in wrist deep. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  He was trying so hard to be supportive and she loved him for it. But right now, all she wanted to do was rage, to punch something. To scream out all the fear and frustration. If only she could rewind the day and start over. But what would she have done differently? Told Roger to shove it? Sacrifice Jason’s future for her own, a future that hadn’t been written in sand, let alone stone?

  Instead, she’d settle for falling into mundane TV and empty calories.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” He found a bowl and took the bag from her to make for easier access. “Couch and TV time. Any preferences?”

  “Anything but NCN. And I can’t promise not to pass out on you.”

  “Understood. Good grief, Gary.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the blinking screen. “What is going on with him? I told him I’d call in the morning. He’s left like six messages.”

  “Must be important.” Given the decisions Jason had made regarding the company, she wasn’t surprised. His life was about to get very busy. Busy enough for her to wonder how he planned to fit her in. Or if he planned to.

  “It’s after midnight in New York,” Jason muttered. “The restaurant better be on fire. I’d better—”

  “Yeah, of course. Gimme.” She hugged the bowl against her chest and headed into the living room. “Better bring another bag. I’ll probably inhale this one.”

  She settled on the couch and clicked on the TV, Jason’s voice fading into the background. Her eyes drooped.

  “Abby.” Jason jostled her shoulder.

  “I’m awake.” She shot upright. Her brain was muddled, foggy. “What is it? What’s wrong? What did Gary want?”

  “I need your laptop.” There was an odd expression on his face, one she couldn’t define beyond guarded.

  “Right there.” She gestured toward the end table. “What’s happening?”

  Jason held up a finger. “Hang on, Gary. I’m bringing it up now. He told me to check Roasted&Skewered.com. One of those food industry gossip sites.”

  “What for?” She rubbed at the grit in her eyes.

  “Probably something to do with my father.” He frowned at the phone. “What? It has to do with me?” He dragged the laptop over and sat next to her, waiting for the page to load. “Gary, give me a sec.” He set the phone on the coffee table. “What the hell is this?”

  She covered her mouth and scanned the headline: Celebrity Chef Jason Corwin Caught in New Cheating Scandal. “Oh, no.” She almost retched.

  “This is crap!” Jason scrolled through the article to the video.

  Oh, no. No, no, no. “Jason, don’t—” She flailed her hands to get him away from the tabloid website.

  But it was too late. He clicked Play.

  “While details are still sketchy at this time, Roasted&Skewered has learned exclusively that celebrity chef Jason Corwin, who only a few months ago was caught cheating during a televised cooking competition, is embroiled in yet more questionable dealings in the food competition world. An unnamed source at the National Cooking Network tells us that a participation contract signed by a local hotel manager was done so with fraudulent intentions by not naming Jason Corwin as an employee of her establishment, nor did she admit on her application that she’d received personal training by Mr. Corwin.

  “While Jason Corwin’s whereabouts have remained unknown for some time, it appears as if this once hot kitchen commodity and television personality was planning a less than ethical comeback to the food world, which included reclaiming his position as chairman of Corwin Brothers, a possibility that certainly seems up in the air now given these new developments. It was rumored that returning Mr. Corwin to the board would help save the struggling company that Jason Corwin and his late brother inherited from their grandfather. Corwin Brothers was formerly one of the most respected and highly valued companies in the food industry, with multimillion-dollar deals and endorsements. It’s widely believed Jason Corwin’s lack of business acumen and dedication to his brother’s vision began the company’s downward spiral, a spiral Edward Corwin, the brothers’ father, has been trying to stop—”

  Abby slapped the laptop shut. Her entire body felt as if she’d been dipped in a vat of ice. Roger had lied to her.

  Jason’s voice was no less chilly. “Do you know what they’re talking about? What contract?”

  “The one I signed to participate in the contest.” Abby swallowed hard and tried to keep herself from getting sick. “But he told me, he promised me—” Why would Roger have done this? What did he have to gain? “Jason, I didn’t realize, not at first—”

  “Stop.” He held up his hand and picked his phone up, all the while staring at Abby with something akin to disbelief. “Gary, I’m going to have to call you back.” He set the phone down again. “Start from the beginning. What exactly did the contract say?”

  “What didn’t it say? It was all so—” No. No more excuses. She took a deep breath but couldn’t calm her racing heart. “I had to check off all these boxes. About my amateur status, that I hadn’t had any professional training—and I took that to mean an actual education,” she added when the heat flared in his eyes. “I guess I was wrong about that. I answered those questions in good faith with what I knew then. And yes, there was a question about whether I employed anyone from the National Cooking Network, which of course, at the time I submitted my application, I didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you say something when you realized the truth? They might have—”

  “I didn’t think it mattered! When I started to worry about it, you said your shows had been canceled and besides, it was only cooking lessons.” Could she explain and justify herself in the same breath? Did any of this make sense? “I figured I was in the clear. And then Roger—”

  “Roger,” Jason spat. He stood up and began to pace, the anger radiating off him warming her still chilled body. “I should have known he had a hand in this. It’s his style. How does he fit in?”

  Abby’s mind wouldn’t stop spinning. “The date on the contract I signed is the day after you arrived in Butterfly Harbor. I still don’t know how he found that out—”

  “It’s Roger. He always gets what he needs.”

  “I told him it was a coincidence. That you weren’t an employee, not officially, and that was true, but then you started working in the kitchen and he showed me a picture of us that day you took money out of Matilda’s cash jar. He said given your history, no one would believe anything you said. From there, it went downhill. He gave me a choice. Either throw the competition or—” She hesitated.

  There wasn’t any way Jason was going to believe she’d done this to protect him, not with the fallout that was happening right now on the internet, an
d besides, if he had any hope of salvaging his company, the less he knew, the better.

  “He told me to throw the competition or he’d expose me on national television,” she lied. “I couldn’t let the Flutterby or Butterfly Harbor take that hit. I had no idea he’d leak this to the media. He didn’t have any reason to.” Tears burned her throat like acid. Why had she believed anything Roger had said? “He’d already won. His precious Clara is going to be the next NCN star. He said it was all he wanted.”

  “This was all about the Flutterby. God, Abby, I expect my father to come at me from behind, not you!”

  She jolted. He honestly thought she was capable of the same malicious behavior as his father? “Jason, I’m sorry—”

  “You could have told me. You should have, and you would have if you’d been on the up and up.” He sounded so tired, so defeated. “Instead you’ve been lying to me from the moment I got here.”

  “No!” Abby jumped to her feet. “No, Jason, that’s not true. You knew I only got into this to save the Flutterby, and maybe I didn’t fill you in on all the details—”

  “Maybe you didn’t? The other day in the kitchen.” Realization dawned on his face. “You didn’t want to pay me. You didn’t want me as an employee.” He seemed to be fitting the jagged pieces together. “You knew about this then. You suspected you’d done something wrong and you still stayed quiet and hoped no one would find out. You lied to my face. Even knowing how much I was struggling to put my life back together and move beyond my own mistakes, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t warn me.”

  “I didn’t think I had to. I mean, yes, I wondered if I was putting my situation in jeopardy, but I never once thought you’d be dragged into this. I figured if anyone was held responsible for that contract it would be me. You have to believe me, Jason! I didn’t think any of this would affect you.” This entire conversation was like an avalanche she couldn’t stop as her words tumbled over themselves.

  “How could it not affect me? You used me, Abby. You lied to me—maybe not at the start. I knew why you had to do this, but you’ve lied to me every day since.”