by Gayle Leeson
“Caterer,” I supplied.
His eyebrows rose slightly at that, but I didn’t feel inclined to elaborate. I was still ruminating on how nice looking he was and trying to figure out his status: Was he new in Winter Garden, or was he passing through? Was he single or married? Would he and Mom hit it off?
While all these thoughts were tumbling around in my head, the man was relating his parking ticket narrative to Sheriff Billings. I zoned back in around the time he said he’d moved to Winter Garden last week and would soon be taking over the town’s medical practice as soon as he’d made some renovations to the clinic.
“I understand the town has been lacking medical care since Dr. Kent’s departure earlier this year.”
“It certainly has,” Sheriff Billings said. “And why don’t I dismiss that parking ticket for you? A ticket is a lousy way to welcome our new doctor to the neighborhood.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Would you like some dinner?” Sheriff Billings nodded in my direction. “Amy owns the Down South Café, and she sure knows her way around a kitchen.”
“No, thank you. I need to run. But—Amy, is it?”
“Yes. Amy Flowers.” I shook his hand.
“Well, Amy, my name is Clark Bennett, and I’m sure you’ll be seeing me in your café soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
When Dr. Bennett left, Sheriff Billings put his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. “Uh-oh! Looks like you might have some competition, Hall!”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said. “But that man might be perfect for Mom...if we can keep him away from Aunt Bess long enough to get to know Mom.”
{ }
Chapter Four
D
illy was the first guest through the door at the Down South Café on Monday morning. She’d taken time to put on some makeup and to secure one side of her cottony white hair with a silver barrette.
“Don’t you look pretty this morning?” I asked.
She waved off my compliment with a flick of her wrist. “Nonsense. Could I get a cup of that French vanilla coffee this morning? I’m feeling like I want something fancy.”
“How about Belgian waffles then? Some people might consider them fancy.”
Dilly nodded. “That would be good. French vanilla coffee and Belgian waffles. They’re both from the same general vicinity, right?”
Before I had time to process Dilly’s logic, Walter Jackson entered the café. He wore khaki pants, a navy polo, and a navy tweed newsboy cap. He carried a long-stemmed pink rose.
“Good morning, lovely ladies!” He spotted Luis at a table in the corner refilling napkin holders. “And to you as well, young man.” He handed the rose to Dilly before sitting down on the stool beside her. “How are you this morning, my dear?”
“I’m well. Amy has about talked me into Belgian waffles and French vanilla coffee. How does that sound to you?”
“I think it sounds fine.” Walter looked at me. “I’ll have the same please.”
“And don’t forget my biscuit,” Dilly called as I turned away.
“I won’t.” I smiled at the thought of Dilly’s daily visitor—a raccoon who waddled down out of the woods behind her house at dusk for a biscuit. Dilly never failed to have a treat ready for her little pal.
In the kitchen, I got a mixing bowl and measured out some flour.
Jackie sidled next to me. “Do you know how jealous Granny would be if she saw Walter and Dilly having breakfast together? She’d be so ticked that she didn’t spot him first.”
“True. But Aunt Bess and Walter could never have breakfast together.” I sifted the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar into the bowl. “I’ve never known her to get out of bed before nine.”
She laughed. “Excellent point.”
When the waffles were ready, I took them out to Dilly and Walter. I heard Dilly say the name Gladys Pridemore.
“I can’t believe she died—just like that—at her kitchen table.” Dilly looked up at me. “I’m sorry you and Jackie were the ones to find her. I know how upsetting that must’ve been.”
“Did you know Gladys well, Dilly?”
“Fairly well. She and I were in the same Bible study class.”
“Do you know whether or not Gladys suffered from dementia?”
Dilly shrugged. “No more than any of the rest of us, I reckon. She’d forget little goofy things sometimes, like she’d be looking in her purse for her sunglasses when she had them pushed on top of her head.”
“I’m afraid we all do that,” Walter said, with a chuckle. “I often forget that I’ve placed a pencil behind my ear, and when I go back to working my crossword puzzle, I look all over the chair for the thing before I remember what I’ve done with it.”
“You’ll see one of these days,” Dilly said. “Enjoy your mind while you’ve still got it, Amy.”
“Yep.” Walter nodded. “Youth is wasted on the young. Now, who said that?”
“If Homer was here, he could tell us,” Dilly said.
“He could,” I agreed.
Jackie looked it up on her phone. “George Bernard Shaw said that. But neither of you have anything to complain about—you aren’t wasting a minute.”
Dilly grinned. “No, we aren’t. When we leave here, we’re going to the Biltmore. We’re making a whole day of it.”
“No wonder you’re feeling fancy,” I said. “I hope you’ll have a wonderful time.”
The Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, was an excellent day trip. Mom, Aunt Bess, Jackie and I had enjoyed the jaunt several times. Maybe it was time for another trip soon...a girls’ day.
I had a sudden thought. “Will you be back in time to deliver your biscuit?”
“Whenever I have to be out in the evening, I put it in a plastic baggie—open slightly—so he doesn’t have any trouble removing the biscuit. I leave it on the banister. He always leaves the baggie.”
Walter shook his head. “It’s the darnedest thing I’ve ever seen. The first evening I was at Dilly’s house when that raccoon arrived, he wasn’t sure he liked me being there. But he’s decided that if Dilly likes me, I must be okay.”
Shelly burst through the door apologizing for being late. “I slammed on my brakes because I was afraid this cute little groundhog was going to cross the road in front of me. It didn’t, though—thank goodness—but the precious thing stood up on its hind legs and looked so adorable, that I had to put my car in park and take its picture.” She laughed and flipped a strand of her long dark hair over her shoulder. “I’ll show you all the picture in a little bit. Anyway, then I just had to go explain myself to the sweet man in the car behind me. I mean, there I was holding up traffic.”
Jackie rolled her eyes at me. She then retrieved Shelly’s apron and held it out toward her.
“Thanks, Jackie.” She tied the apron around her waist. “So, anyway, would you believe it? The man in the car behind me is Winter Garden’s new doctor! I offered to buy him breakfast, and he said he’d be along in a few minutes.”
I clenched my fists, told Dilly and Walter to let me know if they needed anything, and went back into the kitchen.
Jackie followed me. “You’re really ticked that Shelly’s late, aren’t you?”
“No, it’s not that. I met the new doctor at the police station yesterday. He’s really nice and about Mom’s—and Shelly’s—age, and I’d hoped I could find a way to introduce him to Mom. But now Shelly has gone and swooped him up.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that. Shelly is probably lonely too...but she has more opportunities to meet people. I just...” I blew out another breath and got to work on my next order.
“Be right back,” Jackie said, moving toward the back door.
I didn’t have time to wonder what my cousin was doing. I had breakfasts to prepare. More than one person had requested Belgian waffles after seeing Dilly’s and Walter’s plates.
Jackie came back into the
kitchen, washed her hands, and asked if I needed any help.
“Not yet, but I’ll let you know if that situation changes,” I said.
“I’ll keep an eye out. I figure when the doctor comes in, you’ll want to deliver his order yourself.”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t sure that I did want to if the man was already enamored with Shelly.
After Shelly delivered the doctor’s order for eggs over easy, wheat toast with grape jelly, and hash browns, I decided I’d take the man’s food out to him myself. After all, we’d already met. He’d been kind enough to patronize my café—whatever the reason—and I needed to express my appreciation.
When I strode out of the kitchen with the tray of food, Mom was standing just inside the door of the café.
“Mom? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. Jackie called and said you were making me a special breakfast.”
“Oh...oh! Of course!” I took the tray to Dr. Bennett’s table and motioned for Mom to join me. “Good morning, Dr. Bennett.”
“Amy, it’s nice to see you again. I told you I’d be in to try your cooking soon.”
“I’m happy you’re here, and I hope you find everything to your liking.” I turned to Mom. “Mom, this is Clark Bennett, Winter Garden’s new doctor.”
“I’m Jenna Flowers, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mom quickly moved away and sat at an empty table.
“Ms. Flowers, would you like to join me? There’s no sense in both of us eating alone,” Dr. Bennett said. “Besides, I need someone to tell me all the ins and outs of living in Winter Garden.” He stood and pulled out a chair for Mom.
“If you’re sure—” Mom said, pushing back her chair.
“I’m positive.”
On my way back to the kitchen, I passed both Jackie and Shelly. Jackie was taking coffee to Mom, and she gave me a grin and a wink. Shelly was taking another customer’s order to the window, and she looked livid.
MOM AND DR. BENNETT lingered over coffee for so long, that I expected Aunt Bess to call in a search and rescue team. Shelly still tried to pay for Dr. Bennett’s breakfast—“because a promise is a promise”—but he wouldn’t let her. He said he never intended to allow her to pay for his meal and that he hopes to see her again soon. That seemed to smooth her ruffled feathers a bit.
As Mom was leaving, I gave her an apple Danish for Aunt Bess. Mom gave me a pointed look that clearly indicated that I’d be explaining myself later. I didn’t care. I’d seen her having some adult conversation with someone other than Aunt Bess, Jackie, or me for a change. Even if she and Dr. Bennett never went out, she’d enjoyed herself. I could tell.
Homer came in just before ten-thirty. “Good morning.” He sat on his regular stool.
“Hi, Homer. Who’s your hero today?”
“Today’s hero is Howard Thurman. Have you heard of him?”
“I believe so. Wasn’t he a civil rights leader?” I asked.
“He was that and so much more—author, philosopher, theologian, educator. He was a great man.”
“Sounds like it.” I poured him a cup of coffee.
“There seems to be some tension in the air here today, which is perfectly understandable. I heard about Gladys Pridemore and how you and Jackie discovered her.”
“Did you know Ms. Pridemore?” I asked.
“Only in passing. She appeared to prefer to keep to herself.”
Jackie brought out Homer’s sausage biscuit and patted my shoulder.
I smiled. “Thank you, Jackie.”
“Yes, thank you.” After echoing my sentiments, Homer decided to share a Thurman quote with us. “I’d like you both to remember this today. ‘Whatever may be the tensions and the stresses of a particular day, there is always lurking close at hand the trailing beauty of forgotten joy or unremembered peace.’”
Shelly brushed past Jackie with a coffee pot.
“And there’s Shelly,” Jackie said, “trailing close at hand.”
Homer raised his coffee cup in a salute to Shelly. “And she’s a beauty and a joy indeed.”
She placed her free hand on her chest. “Why, Homer, you’re the sweetest thing!”
And, just like that, Shelly’s tensions—and mine too, for that matter—morphed into unremembered peace. Sadly, peace never seems to stick around long at the Down South Café.
WHEN I GOT HOME, THERE was a note from my mother stuck to the front door. It said—or, rather, demanded—Come Here. Not in any hurry to get to the big house, I strolled through the grass beside the driveway. It was a gorgeous day. The birds were chirping, the wind was rustling through the trees, tousling leaves that were only just beginning to show their autumn hues, and the grass was a vibrant green. I saw a patch of clover and stopped to see if I could find a lucky one. After all, a person going to visit her disgruntled mom could use all the help she could get.
I heard the screen door slam on the hill above me, and I looked up to see Mom standing on the front porch. I lifted a hand. She didn’t wave back. Too bad I hadn’t found that elusive four-leaf clover because my time was up.
I resumed walking and playing out the forthcoming conversation in my head. Or, at least, I tried to. I couldn’t imagine why Mom would be upset with me for introducing her to Dr. Bennett. Mom was only forty-nine years old. She’d left her job as a sales associate for a popular retailer in Bristol to look after Aunt Bess full time. Of course, Aunt Bess didn’t know that. She thought Mom merely took early retirement so she could “kick back and savor life.”
Dad had left us when I was a toddler, and we hadn’t seen him since. And although Mom had dated on and off since their divorce, her social life had been practically nonexistent for the past couple of years. I thought it was high time she started enjoying herself more.
That’s what I’d planned on saying. I lifted my chin and quickened my stride. Stepping onto the porch, I opened my mouth to speak. Mom didn’t give me the chance.
“What were you and Jackie thinking?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Huh?” Yep. That was my well-thought-out, intelligent comeback—huh.
“You heard me.”
I had no idea where those valid reasons I’d come up with on my way up the hill had disappeared to, but they were certainly not on the tip of my tongue. I looked down at the porch flooring to see if I’d dropped them. Nope. Not even the sliver of an idea for me to grasp onto.
“Well...you see...I met Dr. Bennett yesterday...at the police station, as a matter of fact. Funny story...he came in to pay a parking ticket. I meant to tell you and Aunt Bess about it earlier, but it was beginning to get late when I got back, and I thought—”
“Amy.”
I shrugged. “I thought he’d be perfect for you.” Sometimes a body has no choice whatsoever but to tell the simple, unvarnished truth.
“What made you think that?”
“Um...he seemed really nice. He’s new in town...”
“Right.” Her voice was flat. “He’s a man, and he’s in the proper age range. I’m guessing that’s all it took.”
I huffed. “There was more to it than that!”
“What then?”
“Shelly was trying to reel him in, and you hadn’t even got the chance to meet him yet!”
Mom bobbed her head. “So, that’s it. You and Jackie called and had me rush to the café to get in line ahead of Shelly at the new guy meet-and-greet.”
“Well, actually, Shelly was already at the head of the line, so we...you know...kinda gave you the backstage pass.” I locked onto her angry green gaze. “Why are you so upset about this?”
“Because you made me look desperate! Not only to Dr. Bennett but to Shelly and everyone else in that dining room. You threw me at that man, and I didn’t appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. It put him and me into an awkward position.” She brushed a stray hair off her forehead. “I’m sure he felt he had no choice but to invite me to sit down.�
�
“I’m really sorry.” I started to tell her that it wasn’t even my idea and that I didn’t realize what Jackie had done until Mom walked into the café, but I didn’t want to toss my cousin under the bus. Besides, I carried my share of the blame—I didn’t have to introduce Mom to the doctor. “I’ll never do anything like that again.”
“See that you don’t,” Mom said.
“And I’m sorry you and Dr. Bennett didn’t hit it off.”
“Says who?” She arched a brow. “We’re going out on Wednesday. Keep the evening free and tell Jackie to do the same. You two are staying with Aunt Bess.”
{ }
Chapter Five
I
was in the kitchen trying to determine what I might offer for the special of the day tomorrow when Sarah called. Sarah had been one of my very best friends since elementary school. Since her boyfriend John attended law school in Grundy and was away all week, and since Ryan worked odd shifts, she and I often got together throughout the week for dinner and games of Scrabble or Yahtzee.
“Do you have plans for this evening?” Sarah asked.
“Hopefully, I do now.” I laughed. “How would you like to try this recipe for stuffed bell pepper casserole I found?”
“That sounds great. I’ll be right over.”
When Sarah arrived, I had just drained the browned ground sirloin, onion, peppers, and garlic. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air.
“Smells fantastic. Is it done yet?” She dropped her purse onto a chair and adjusted her ivory, off-the- shoulder sweater.
“Not quite.” I transferred the mixture from the colander back to the skillet. “Did you and John have a good weekend?”
“Saturday was nice, but he had to go back early Sunday and study.” She watched me stir in the tomatoes and uncooked rice. “I won’t ask about your weekend. I saw Jackie at the post office a little while ago, so I know about the two of you finding Gladys Pridemore.”
“Yeah...that was rough.” I added oregano, Worchester sauce, and basil. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to get there in time to help her.”
