by Dylann Crush
“Leaving so soon?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get home to make sure the boys are still alive. Thanks again for babysitting last night,” Misty said.
“My pleasure. Anytime.”
Cassie elbowed me in the side. “I still can’t believe they left you in charge of little humans.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Misty flung an arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “Give me a hug, girl. So glad you’re back in town.”
Cassie squeezed back. “Just for the summer.”
The women separated and Misty shrugged. “Fall’s pretty nice around here, too.”
Did she have to be so freaking obvious? Even I could see what she was trying to do. Cassie’d have to be blind and deaf to not figure it out.
“Give the boys a hug for me.” I prodded Misty toward the steps with my free hand.
“All of them?” she asked.
“Nah, give Jake a big wet one. Tell him I’ll see him later on tonight at practice.”
“You got it. Big wet ones always were your specialty.” She slid her sunglasses into place then nodded at Cassie. “We’ll have to have you over for dinner sometime soon.”
Cassie turned to me. “I forgot how much I like her.”
“Robbie, you can come too.” Misty blew me a fake kiss.
I leaned toward her and whispered into her nest of jet black hair. “Would you go on and get outta here? You’re gonna run her out of town yourself before I even have a chance to piss her off again.”
She pushed me away and sauntered over to her car. “See y’all later.”
Cassie and I stood on the porch, waving as Misty’s tires crunched on the gravel and she pulled down the drive.
“Well, that was interesting,” Cassie said.
Crap. What did Misty say to her? “What?”
“Nothing. Just two old friends, catching up. Come on, I pulled up some pictures of some old farm house renovations on my laptop while I was in town. I can’t believe they never got internet out here.”
“About last night, Cass, I—”
“Don’t worry about it. We all make mistakes. All the sugar in that pie must have messed with your head. Misty was nice enough to fill me in on what a big pork rind fan you’ve become. I’m not about to get in the way of that.”
“Pork Producers’ Princess,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” Cassie blinked at me, her eyes wide with fake innocence.
Dammit. I figured Misty would sink her teeth into Cassie if given the chance. Long before Cassie blew into town, I’d been rethinking my taste for pork rinds. I just hadn’t had the courage to tell Caroline that yet. Looked like the time had come.
As I followed Cassie back into the house, I wondered if it would make a difference to her once I severed my connection with Caroline. How serious was she with her partner? Working on the house should give me an opportunity to figure that out. Hopefully she’d come to her senses before the job was done. If not, I might have to accidentally break something else and extend the timeline a few weeks. Either way, I wanted to know if we still stood a chance. Correction, I needed to know. And I was prepared to do what had to be done to find out.
12
Cassie
June faded into the first week of July, and Robbie and I fell into a comfortable pattern. He’d show up most mornings around 7:30, and I’d have coffee and something to eat ready for him. He’d go over the checklist for the day, let me know if any subcontractors were coming in, and then I’d tackle whatever project he’d set aside for me.
Next week was a big week. The kitchen guy was coming to start on the cabinets. Before I left for Dallas for the long Fourth of July weekend, I had to empty every last shelf and drawer. It was late, but I wanted to get it done before I headed to bed. One more shelf to go.
I climbed up on the stepstool to peer into the final cabinet. What was that in the back? I reached my hand in to grab it then pulled away. What if it was something dead? Robbie was in charge of dead rodent disposal. We’d found a half-rotted mouse behind the fridge and since then I made him check before I stuck my hand into or behind anything.
I grabbed my phone and turned on my flashlight app. The mystery item was a box of some sort. I wrapped my hand around it and pulled it out. A thick layer of dust covered the wooden hinged top, but I’d recognize it anywhere. Grandma’s recipe box. I’d wondered where it ended up. Grandpa and I had spent the better part of a week working on it. I told him she needed something to put her recipes in. Every time she cooked, she’d flip through a spiral notebook where she’d taped them all to pieces of paper.
Climbing down off the stool, I cradled the precious treasure to my chest. Of all the things I missed about my grandma, her cooking was the one that had left the biggest hole in my heart. Some say the kitchen is the heart of a home. This kitchen was the heart of her life. Everything revolved around it. She’d can dill beans and rhubarb jelly in the summer, make stews and soups to freeze in the winter, and she always had something baking in the ornery old stove. Summers spent in grandma’s kitchen were the reason I’d become a chef.
I sat down at the table and flipped open the lid. The sight of her handwriting on the first recipe card filled my eyes with tears. Buttermilk biscuits. We’d made those together so many times, I knew that one by heart. What else was in here? My fingers flipped through the cards. Company Stew, Creamed Turkey Over Toast, Cornbread Stuffing… just reading the titles made my mouth water. This little box was worth its weight in gold. I couldn’t wait to show Robbie.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, pulling me away from the memories. I closed the lid to the recipe box. Why was Parker calling so late?
“Hi.”
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up or not.” He let out a soft laugh. “Is that rooster still waking you up every morning?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I’d never seen the cocky bastard, but he crowed like his life depended on it, every morning between five thirty and six.
“You ever figure out where he lives?”
“I don’t think any of the neighbors are close enough.” Except for maybe Robbie, but I didn’t want to mention that to Parker. Plus, as far as I knew, the Jordans had never kept chickens. “He probably lived in the hen house out back once upon a time. Grandma used to keep hens for eggs. Of course, now with the hens gone, he haunts the pasture like some phantom. Maybe he’s not even real.”
“So how’s it going besides the ghostly rooster?” he asked.
“Great. I just finished packing up the kitchen, so everything’s ready to go when the guys come tomorrow. Why are you calling so late?”
“I hate to do this to you, I was really looking forward to seeing you this weekend.”
Was he cancelling? I’d already loaded the car and planned on hitting the road before ten so I’d be there in time for dinner. “What’s wrong?”
“Liz invited me to her lake house in Arkansas this weekend. We’ve had a hard time getting together lately. I’ve been slammed at work. She wants to go over the plans for the restaurant.”
“Well, great. I’ll just meet you there.” I reached for my spiral notebook. Since we’d started this project it was never far from my grasp. “What’s the address?”
An empty silence stretched between us.
“Parker? You still there?”
“Yeah, look, if it were up to me I’d just have you meet me there, sweetheart.”
Ugh… he was playing the sweetheart card—that was never a good sign. “But?”
“Well, she didn’t actually invite us, I think it was more just me. She’s got a big group of people coming, and she thinks one or two might be interested in investing. I’ll be working the whole time. You know how it is.”
“She knows we’re together though, right? It’s not like I’d need my own room or anything.” I didn’t want to come across as desperate. It’s just that I hadn’t seen Parker in over a month, and I missed him. He had to be missi
ng me too. Unless…
“Like I said, if it were up to me…” his voice trailed off like he was giving me the opportunity to suck it up and take the high road like I always did. But I was getting sick and tired of always taking a backseat to his wheeling and dealing. Even though Robbie and I weren’t meant to be, being around him again made me realize how much I missed certain aspects of the relationship we’d once had. Like how I’d always known where we stood.
“If it were up to you what, Parker? You’d have me come along? Be a third wheel with you and Liz?”
“Geez, Cass. It’s not like that. Liz and I are colleagues. There’s nothing going on between us. Not on my end anyway.” He sounded tired. I imagined him with his elbows on the desk, pressing his fingers into his temples. Parker didn’t like conflict. Seemed like lately I couldn’t get enough of it.
“Not on your end? So Liz is coming on to you? Did you tell her we’re together or not?” I needed to know. Suddenly, I desperately needed to know exactly where I stood with Parker.
“It’s complicated, Cassie. She’s got guys with deep pockets at her fingertips. We get Liz on board and get the funds from the sale of the house and we’ll be set.” He sighed.
“How far are you going to let it go? A little flirting? Footsie under the table? Are you planning on sleeping with her this weekend?”
He groaned. “No. But she doesn’t necessarily need to know that yet, right?”
“So you’re leading her on?” My vision clouded at the edges.
“I won’t let it go that far. Just forget I said anything.”
“No, I won’t forget it. What’s going on down there?” The sound of my own heartbeat ricocheted through my ears as my world threatened to collapse in on me.
“I’m doing what I need to do to secure our cash. That’s what’s going on.”
I didn’t care for the way he raised his voice. “Seriously?”
“Hey, we need the backers if you want this to work. Without the money from the house, we might have to find it another way.”
Excuses drifted through the phone—a pathetic attempt at justifying his actions. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You’ll do anything to get what you want, won’t you? Tell you what. I’m going to make this really easy for you. We’re through, Parker. I’m stepping aside. You and Liz have yourselves a great weekend. Do your thing. Win them all over and collect their checks. I’ve got a hot date with some hard wood to keep me busy.”
“What?”
“Cabinets, Parker. Refinishing the hard wood cabinets.”
“Listen, Cass, I know you’re upset. It’s just business.”
“Business, huh? Is that what you learned in your MBA program?”
A crushing silence covered the five hundred miles between us.
“Is that all I was to you too?” I hated the way my voice cracked, making me sound weak and emotional.
He cleared his throat. “Of course not. It’s just—”
“No more excuses, Parker.” I couldn’t take any more, didn’t even want to give him a chance to speak. “I’ve got to go.” I pressed the end button and cut off whatever lame justification he’d try on me next.
The phone dropped from my hand, and I stared at the recipe box. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell him what I’d found. He wouldn’t appreciate its significance anyway. My phone rang, and I sent it to voice mail. We were through. I waited for a massive wave of disappointment to wash over me, but it didn’t come.
What did I just do? Where would this leave us with regard to the restaurant? He’d go to any lengths to get what he wanted, and I was done playing into it. He couldn’t open the restaurant without me, and I was stuck without him. We’d signed a lease, ordered equipment, made offers of employment to people we wanted to have on the team. I’d even passed on the designs for my dream kitchen.
He needed my cash, and I needed his expertise. Could I put the idea of a relationship with him to the side and focus on a business partnership? With my dream so close, almost within reach, I didn’t have much of a choice.
My gaze traveled around the bare kitchen. Fine. I’d stay in Swallow Springs for the holiday. I was eager to keep up the momentum on the house, anyway. None of the contractors would be working over the long weekend, so I’d have the place to myself and could knock out a few of the smaller projects on my list. I’d lick my wounds and be ready to move on by Monday. Maybe even head over to Dotty’s and practice some of the new dishes I’d been dreaming up for the restaurant.
I set the box on the kitchen counter and moved toward the bedroom, chalking up the death of my relationship with Parker to one more casualty I’d have to suffer on the road to chasing after my dream. I took a deep breath, letting the pain of his betrayal slice through me. Damn, it stung. But I’d put up with a thousand Parkers if it meant I’d finally have a place to call my own. Eye on the prize, that’s what it was all about. Tamping down a threat of rising self-pity, I vowed to put any lingering feelings aside and carry on.
As I pulled the covers up to my chin, a tiny part of me protested—how many more times would I have to shut out people I cared about? Following my dreams was turning out to be a pretty lonely venture. I turned over and pulled a pillow into my gut, silencing any murmurs of regret. Damn rooster would have me up bright and early.
Cock-a-doodle-doo.
I wiped the sleep out of my eyes as the damn rooster crowed. By the time I’d splashed some water over my face and got the coffee pot going, the sun had started peeking over the horizon. I peered out the window, appreciating the way the sky lit up the back pasture, until the sound of tires crunching on gravel pulled my attention to the front of the house. Robbie said he’d be over early to help me finish clearing out the kitchen before he took off for his own weekend getaway.
By the time his boots clomped onto the porch I managed to shove my arms into a robe and pull it tight around my middle.
“Good morning.” Robbie came through the front door, knocking as he passed. “You up yet?”
“Barely.” I padded into the kitchen, my gaze zeroing in on the coffee pot.
“What’s this?” I turned around to see Robbie holding the wooden box. “Please tell me this is your grandma’s recipe box.”
My mouth broke into a giant grin. I reached out and took the box from Robbie. “It is. Found it last night in the back of the last cabinet. Remember when I gave it to her?”
“Yeah, it was right around your birthday, wasn’t it?”
“Sure was.” I was surprised he remembered. That was the one where Grandma made me a Barbie doll cake like the ones she used to make my mom when she was a little girl. Cake full of sparkles and ruffles and plenty of buttercream frosting. Robbie scowled when he saw it. Said he wouldn’t dare put a single bite of pearly, sugary, glittery pink or purple Barbie butt in his mouth. I saw him sneak off with a plate of it though when Grandma invited the Jordans over. Later he pulled the whole naked Barbie doll out of the middle and pointed out all of her pertinent parts to me on the plastic molded body. I should have known then he’d be trouble.
“Are they all there?” He looked like a little kid about to ravage a candy shop. “Chicken and dumplings?”
“Yep.”
He licked his lips. “The pecan peach cobbler?”
I nodded.
He grabbed my arm. “Meatloaf. Tell me you got the meatloaf, and I’ll be happier than a two-peckered rooster in a hen house.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the dopey smile plastered across his face. “They’re all here. Every single one.”
He let out a whoop then grabbed my hands and spun me around the kitchen.
“Slow down. You’ve gone bat-shit crazy on me.”
Robbie stopped dancing around and hugged me to him, the corners of the box pressing into my chest.
“Ouch. Let go.”
“Oh, sorry.” He backed up and a tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. “I guess you can tell I haven’t had much in the way of good cooking for the past cou
ple of years.”
“You think?” I set the box down on the counter. “Speaking of roosters, do you hear that asshole bird every morning?”
“Yeah, that’s Romeo. Lives somewhere out in the back pasture. Scrawny little bastard, but he sure can cause a ruckus.”
“Romeo? The same bird we used to chase around the chicken coop?”
“That’s the one. When your grandma decided she couldn’t keep up the hen house she gave all the birds to my dad. I tried to catch ol’ Romeo but he got away. He’s been free ranging since then.”
I moved to the coffee pot to pour us each a mug. “Think anyone would miss him if he disappeared one day?”
Robbie gave me a cautious grin. “What’re you thinking?”
“I found my grandpa’s shotgun in the bedroom closet. Thought I might hunt some rooster. I think grandma had a recipe for creamed cock on toast.”
“That’s a good one. You be careful though. Legend has it Romeo can peck your eyes out faster than you can say cock-a-doodle-doo.”
“Are you pulling my leg?”
“He’s been out there at least five or six years. Any rooster who can survive out there with all the coyotes has got to be a tough ole pecker.”
“If I ever get my hands on him, he’ll have more than his pecker to worry about.”
Robbie turned away, a smile playing across his scruffy mug. “If you’re looking for a pecker to play with…”
I grabbed the dishtowel and snapped it at his backside. “Will you ever grow up?”
He bounced around like a boxer and tapped me on the head. “I sure as hell hope not.”
I shook my head. After my phone call with Parker last night it would be a long time before I let myself go anywhere near another pecker. More trouble than they were worth. I turned around in the kitchen. It looked so empty without grandma’s old tin canisters sitting on the counter and her collection of antique enamelware no longer gracing the tops of the cabinets.
“It’s going to start coming together now.” Robbie stood next to me, surveying the bare room.
