“We’ve got quite a few empty seats left.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’ve placed a couple ads. I’m sure things will pick up soon.”
“What do you think the problem is?”
“Not sure.” He suspected the place had developed a bad reputation, thanks to a string of cheesy productions put on by the former manager. Bad scripts could drive a dinner theater into the ground. Plus they’d cut corners on the menu, when she had lacked the funds to buy quality ingredients.
“We just need to figure out a way to turn things around,” he said. According to Dad, a smart man would’ve followed his advice and finished his law degree. Joined the firm, like Jed had been groomed to do. But Grandma had needed him. Still did.
“You think your Western idea will help?”
“Hope so.” It’d either save the place or shut it down for good. “You saw the estimates I forwarded you?”
“I did. That’s some chunk of change.”
The last thing he wanted to do was sink more money into that place, but what choice did they have?
She opened the oven, and the scent of chocolate wafted toward him.
“No hard feelings intended—” he sat at the breakfast bar “—but I don’t feel our production’s unique enough to draw folks in.” The truth was that their show was cliché. A fancy inn with a butler, maid, waitstaff and guests.
“I get that.”
“By turning our place into something rustic, uniquely Texas, we can separate ourselves from the pack. And hit the tourist market.” If he could tap into some of the area’s Texas pride, the business might just take off. Assuming he could transform the place on their tight budget.
She gave a brisk nod, keeping her mouth firm. “It’s time we make a change, because we for sure know what we’re doing now isn’t working.”
“We’ll have to shut the theater down during the remodel.”
“When does Drake think he can start?”
“Hopefully within the next few days.”
“Good.” She angled her head and drummed her fingers on the counter. “Wild West Murder Mystery. This just might work.”
“You don’t know any scriptwriters, do you?”
“You can’t find one online like we always have?”
“Haven’t found any that fit my idea yet, at least none that are any good.” And they were short on time.
“Hmm...” She tapped a finger against her chin, then smiled. “Matter of fact, bet you Marilyn’s daughter could help us out. I told you she and her little one were coming for a visit, right?”
“Nope.”
The twinkle in her eye said she’d withheld that tidbit intentionally. Why? Was she worried he’d try to avoid her if he knew? Or that he’d chase after her and maybe hurt her more than she already was?
His grandma had said Paige’s divorce had hit her pretty hard.
He grabbed a candy from a dish on the counter. “But I figured that out quick enough when I saw her sitting in her car in her mama’s driveway.”
“She’s here already? Oh, how wonderful.” Grandma scurried to the pantry and brought out flour and sugar. “You remember she’s a writer?”
He nodded. She’d always said she wanted to be a journalist someday. Had even submitted a few things to the school paper. But there was a big difference between news stories and script writing. Not to mention, she’d seemed to cart quite the grudge back into town. He wasn’t so sure she’d lift a finger—or pen—to help him.
Though, she just might help Grandma...
He popped another candy into his mouth. “Doubt she’d be interested. We can’t pay much. Plus we need something pretty quick.”
Grandma pulled what appeared to be her last baking dish out of the cupboard. “Well, at least talk to Paige. It never hurts to ask.”
“I guess.” She was as apt to take the job as a heifer was to eat moldy grain.
“And bring her a nice fresh plate of cookies while you’re at it. To welcome her home. Matter of fact, I’ll come with you. Soon as I’m done baking these snickerdoodles. Those always were her favorite, you know.”
He did. He knew almost everything about her. At least, he had, back in high school. But it’d been fourteen years. She’d probably changed a lot since then.
He had half a notion to find out just how much.
Chapter Two
Paige deposited her suitcase on the entryway floor, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in her mother’s home. The place smelled like eucalyptus and peppermint.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Mom rose to meet them and instantly took Ava from Paige’s arms. She gave her a squeeze, then blew raspberries into her neck, producing a high-pitched squeal. “A child needs to be near her grandma. Why, she’s almost three years old, and I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen y’all.”
Paige studied her. “How are you?” She’d dyed her hair nearly black, but two inches of gray roots showed. She’d lost weight, giving her face a pale, sunken appearance, and dark circles shadowed her golden eyes. “Stacy says you’re not sleeping?” Her sister had also told her the doctor indicated most of Mom’s health issues were most likely psychosomatic. What did that mean exactly, and how could Paige best help her? Or, at the very least, not make things worse?
Mom waved a hand and shifted Ava to her other hip. “That’s the least of my problems.” Moving into the living room, she stepped over a box of papers on her way to her recliner. “The good Lord knows I’ve got plenty of other things to tackle, like my chest pains and breathing issues.”
She grimaced and sucked in a series of quick, shallow breaths. “Been to more doctors than I can count, and not a one of ’em can figure out what’s ailing me. Some days I’m so tired, it’s all I can do to pull this aching body out of bed.”
She sat and bounced Ava on her knee. “But enough about my health woes. Your uncle Ken called. To check on how you’re feeling about leaving Chicago, I suspect.”
“I’ll call him later.”
“He said he was heading out for a business trip but would call you next week sometime.” She eyed Paige’s things. “That all you brought?”
“I’ll unload the rest later.” When she was certain Jed wasn’t around. Obviously she couldn’t avoid him forever, not with his grandmother living next door. But she could delay their next encounter, at least until she had a better handle on her feelings.
After fourteen years, she was starting to wonder if that day would ever come. She’d expected to feel awkward seeing him again. But she hadn’t anticipated how raw her emotions would be.
Then again, she’d been through a lot over the past year and a half, first with the divorce, and now losing her job and having to move... Her recurring bouts of insomnia certainly weren’t helping.
Crossing to the green couch, she glanced about at the mess. Papers piled on a rudimentary desk shoved against the wall, a mix of clutter crowding out the old computer.
A foot or two away stood a metal folding chair that had a torn seat cushion with wads of paper scattered near its legs and overflowing a plastic garbage can. Next to this, Mom had stacked manila folders, notebooks and what looked like medical dictionaries. Had working from home been good for her? Or had it allowed her more time to obsess? If only Paige knew how to help her.
She kicked off her shoes. “How’s work going?”
“Busy. Stressful. It’s not helping my health issues—that’s for sure.” She started talking about a slew of tests her latest doctor had given her. “If they don’t figure things out soon, I may need to find me one of those specialists they got in Houston. Though I imagine they cost a pretty penny.”
Paige listened, but other than with the occasional “Uh-huh” and “I’m sorry,” she wasn’t sure how to respond.
The doorbell rang, and she raised an eyebrow. “You ex
pecting someone?”
Mom huffed. “Probably one of those cleaning-supplies salesmen. Last thing I need is more lemon-scented spray bottles under my sink.”
“I’ll get it.” Paige opened the door to find Jed and his grandmother standing shoulder to shoulder on the stoop.
“Oh, sweet Paige, it’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Tappen swooshed inside, set the plate of cookies in her hands on the entryway console and then swept Paige into a tight hug.
The familiar scent of her almond-cherry lotion warmed Paige’s heart. And almost soothed the unexpected jolt at finding Jed a few feet away, waiting to be invited in.
“What a pleasant surprise.” Mom crossed the room. Ava ran over and tugged on Paige’s leg.
“I hungwy.”
Paige scooped her up and held her close.
“There’s that sweet little girl of yours.” Mrs. Tappen smiled and tickled Ava’s ribs. “Not going to scare the poor thing by asking to hold her—just yet.” She winked at Paige.
Mom laughed. “Oh, I’m sure she won’t act bashful for long.” She glanced at the cookies. “My, these look delicious. Would you like some coffee? I can make some right quick. My heart’s been giving me fits, racing for no good reason, but my hands work just fine.”
“I’d hate to put you out.”
“Not at all.” Mom led the way to the kitchen. Mrs. Tappen followed, leaving Jed and Paige in the living room, staring at one another. Ava began to squirm. Paige set her down and she scampered after her grandmother, calling out, “Me some? Pwees? Me want some.”
“Hey.” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Long time no see, huh?” He gave a half-hearted chuckle.
“Right.” She followed his gaze to a mound of what she hoped was clean laundry, piled on one end of the couch. If he and his grandmother had called first, she could’ve cleaned up some.
“Have a seat.” She motioned toward a plaid love seat with sunken cushions, made sure Ava was occupied with some toys and then followed Mom into the kitchen.
“Grab some napkins or something, will you, sweetie? For the cookies.” Mom filled a dingy coffee carafe with water, which she then poured into the percolator. She faced Paige with her hands planted on her hips. “Have you had supper?”
“We had plenty of snacks on the drive.” Paige grabbed four dessert plates from the cupboard—using just napkins felt too...shabby. Whenever she’d been to Jed’s place, which had been a total of three times back in high school, all she’d seen was fancy china.
“I’ve only got peanut butter and corn chips in the pantry.” Mom swiped hair from her face with the back of her hand. “I meant to go shopping—wanted to cook up some steak and potatoes, along with baked squash for little Ava. But I just didn’t have the energy. I told you how tired I get.”
Paige nodded. “I’ll go tomorrow, Mom. No problem.” She’d do an inventory of her mother’s cupboards in the morning. Then she’d stock them up with healthy foods. Was she eating well? Getting out of the house? Spending time with friends?
“You should’ve told me you were running low on groceries.” Mrs. Tappen frowned. “Jed would’ve picked up whatever you needed. Matter of fact, write him up a list. He’s grabbing a few things for me tomorrow—he’s sweet like that.”
Mom poured four cups of coffee and then placed them on a porcelain tray, one of the few nice serving sets she owned. “You’re lucky to have him so close by.” She led the way to the living room.
Paige followed to the archway that signaled the end of the kitchen, and then she stopped short. Jed was sitting on the ground, next to Ava, and had begun playing with her grungy stuffed cat, talking to it as if it were real. The image triggered memories of dreams—of her and Jed and their happily-ever-after—she’d long since let die.
She could not—would not—allow them to resurface.
Two heartbreaks in one lifetime were more than enough. Besides, by summer’s end, she’d be back in Chicago with its museums, restaurants and shopping malls.
Upon seeing Paige, he stood and sort of hovered there, as if uncertain where to land. He eventually chose the edge of the couch where her mom hadn’t piled laundry.
Paige took his place on the floor, largely to distance herself from him.
She grabbed some board books from her backpack and handed one over. Ava started flipping through the pages, repeating random words from memory.
That entertained the adults for a bit, but soon the conversation, which had already felt stilted, stalled.
Jed shifted. He scratched at the back of his neck, looked at her and then at Mom with his brow pinching in that way it always did when he was trying to come up with something to say but had reached a blank. But then he grabbed a cookie and shoved half of it into his mouth.
Paige was tempted to do the same, if only to distract herself from the much-too-handsome man sitting in her mother’s living room.
It was almost like old times.
But if her divorce had taught her anything, it was that she had no business dabbling in romance. The deeper one fell, the more it hurt when everything came undone. And based on the way her breath stalled every time his chocolate eyes latched on to hers, she was dangerously close to regressing back to her teenage years, when Jed’s crooked smile and laughing eyes had threatened to steal her reason. She’d responded to her ex-husband in much the same way and had allowed his sweet talk and promises of forever blind her to some major red flags.
Mrs. Tappen folded her hands in her lap. “Not sure I’m used to seeing you all grown-up, Paige. I still remember when you were a freckle-faced youngster who could never decide if you wanted to play the dainty little princess or go prancing through the mud.”
Paige offered a slight smile.
“Seems to me, she always had an instigator,” Mom said.
Mrs. Tappen eyed Jed. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. ’Course, I don’t remember her putting up much of a fight when it was all laid out on the table.” She shook her head. “Still can’t believe those two went diving in that stinky old pond, looking for buried treasure of all things.”
Mom laughed. “Took three cycles in the washing machine to get that smell out those jeans of hers. I had to throw Paige’s brand-new sneakers away.”
Jed had thought that was the funniest thing—at least he’d had the sense to take his shoes off before diving into the muck. Back when they were best friends. Before things had turned romantic and then had ruined everything. She glanced his way to find him looking at her with an intensity that unnerved her.
Averting her gaze, she cleared her throat. “That was a long time ago. I’ve since given up my affinity for dirt.” She wasn’t up for any more treks down memory lane—of talking about the “good old days” when she had spent almost every free moment with Jed, the first man she’d ever truly, fully given her heart to.
Other than her daddy—the first man to leave her and break her heart.
Had every male relationship she’d developed ended in pain?
Mrs. Tappen smiled. “I see that. You’ve grown up right beautiful. And that child of yours is precious.” She faced Mom, and her expression sobered. “How you been feeling, Marilyn?”
Mom sighed. “My stress level is through the roof. Not only over my health, which is enough to knock any woman down, but work’s been busy, too.” She rubbed her temple. “Sure wish I could be more like Paige with nothing to worry about other than what to eat for lunch. I keep telling her to enjoy herself a bit, but she insists on following that silly planner of hers. She has everything scheduled to the half hour. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Her cheeks flamed. As soon as this conversation ended, she and Mom needed to establish some boundaries regarding what could and couldn’t be discussed in front of Paige’s ex-boyfriend.
“So, Paige...” Mrs. Tappen wrapped both hands around her coffee mug. “What ha
ve you been up to?”
Mom brushed cookie crumbs from her hands. “I told you she lost her job.”
“Mom!”
“What? It’s the truth. And you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. That boss of yours did you wrong, honey. Her and all those suits-and-ties in that big, fancy high-rise you worked in wouldn’t know a talented writer if she landed smack in their lap.”
“Ardell didn’t have a choice.”
“Budget cuts.” She scoffed. “Right.”
“Their loss—our gain.” Mrs. Tappen smiled and cast a veiled look toward Jed.
“No truer words, my friend.” Mom stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her ankles. “I’ll for sure enjoy having her around. But I have a feeling she won’t be putting down roots here, not unless one of us can do some strong convincing.” Her face sobered, and with a deep breath, she fiddled with a button on her shirt. “As much as I’d love for her and little Ava to stay, her heart’s in Chicago.”
Paige watched Ava occupy herself with the buckles on her backpack. Could this conversation get any more uncomfortable?
“It’s such a shame they couldn’t find some way to keep you.” Mrs. Tappen pulled her long braid over her shoulder and tugged at the end, twisting it around her finger. “Your mama told me all about it. If you ask me, seems they could’ve at least moved you to another department.”
Paige shrugged. It wasn’t like they could’ve offered her an accounting position.
“I agree,” Mom said. “Staff reduction, my big toe.” She slapped her thigh.
“Mom, please.” Based on the heat radiating from Paige’s neck, she feared she was beginning to turn blotchy. Lovely. Now seemed like a great time to leave the room, but leaving wouldn’t end this incredibly embarrassing topic of conversation. It’d only prevent her from knowing what had been said.
“It’s true, and by no fault of your own, I might add.” She faced Mrs. Tappen. “Girl worked hard for that magazine. Barely had time to herself. Hasn’t dated in...what? Over a year.”
Hometown Healing Page 2
