The conversation never did return to his family. It just slipped from one easy subject to another as they ate their waffles and sausage and then as Chris, over Elizabeth’s protests, helped with the dishes. Finally they stood on her front porch in the deepening dusk of the long summer twilight as he said his good-byes.
As he turned to head down the walk to his Jeep, Elizabeth raised her arm in a wave, and he looked to see Sarah in her front yard watering her flowers. He also gave what he hoped looked like a casual yet friendly wave and got in his Jeep. He had turned his Jeep around to park in front of Elizabeth’s house, so he was pointed away from Sarah’s house.
Almost too embarrassed to admit to himself he was doing so, he swung the Jeep into another U-turn so he could nonchalantly drive by Sarah’s house as if he had someplace to go in that direction. He lifted his hand in another easy wave as he drove by, and she returned it. Perfect, Reed. Cool, casual. Oh, yeah, you live here. I’d forgotten. He drove to the corner, signaled, and turned into a cul-de-sac. There was nothing he could do but turn the Jeep around and head back the way he came. Sarah was still in her front yard watching him approach. This time he didn’t wave. Or even look at her as he passed.
Sarah shook her head as she watched Chris drive past the second time. What in the world was he doing? But as the taillights disappeared around the corner, she dissolved into laughter. Not a ladylike chuckle either, but the kind of loud belly laugh that made her mother look at her and sigh. If Chris Reed were even half as cool as he tried to be, he’d be an obnoxious jerk, but he was such a doofus, she almost felt sorry for him.
“Was that Chris going by again? What was he doing?” When Elizabeth had seen Sarah in her yard, she had walked on down.
“Beats me.” Sarah grinned. “Maybe he just wanted a tour of the neighborhood.”
“Well, that’s just the strangest thing. There’s nothing down there but the Watsons’ house. Why would he want to see the Watsons’ house?”
Sarah gave her grandmother a one-armed hug. “I don’t know. Why don’t you come sit on the porch with me for a while and have a glass of tea. You can tell me all about your dinner party.”
“I’d hardly call a few waffles and sausage a dinner party.” Elizabeth started up the walk with Sarah. “But Chris is a nice young man. He brought me flowers.”
“Did he, now? Maybe I’m not the one you should be thinking about matching Chris up with.”
Sarah had only to glance at her grandmother’s face to realize she had crossed the line. Gran was not amused. “I think that’s enough about Chris and matchmaking, don’t you? He’s clearly been taught some manners, and I find that refreshing.”
Not quite sure how she was to take the “refreshing use of good manners” comment, Sarah left her grandmother rocking on the front porch and went into the house to get them both some iced tea. When she got back, Gran, in typical Gran fashion, had moved beyond her admonishment as if it had never happened. Her sigh was as contented as her smile as she accepted the icy glass.
“Thank you, darlin’. This is so nice. I have to admit that when you left for college, I was afraid Last Chance had seen the last of you, to live anyway. So many of our young people leave.”
Sarah, rocking beside her, nodded. “Well, there’s not a lot to keep people here once they get out of school. A few of my friends from high school stayed to work the family ranch or chile farm, but most are long gone.”
“I guess that’s one reason why I’ve taken to Chris Reed like I have.” Elizabeth set her glass on the small table between the chairs. “When young people come into the town, instead of leaving it all the time, it makes me think that maybe we’re going to be okay.”
Sarah put her hand on her grandmother’s arm and gave it a tiny shake. “Of course we’re going to be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to Last Chance. Ask Rita! She’s got a dozen schemes going at a time to keep Last Chance revitalized.”
Elizabeth smiled into the dusk, “Well, you’re right about Rita. If she has anything to say about it, we’ll be putting up skyscrapers on Main Street by Christmas.”
“See? And have you ever known anyone who can say no to Rita for long? Last Chance isn’t going anywhere.”
“Maybe not. After all, the Dip ’n’ Dine got some new blood. Who knows what else might happen?”
Sarah felt a little air go out of her bubble. “Well, just because Last Chance isn’t going anywhere doesn’t mean everything has to change, does it?”
Elizabeth patted her granddaughter’s arm. “Darlin’, things are always changing. That’s the nature of life. Sometimes they change toward more life, sometimes they go the other way, but nothing ever stays the same.”
“Last Chance has.”
“Oh, no, it hasn’t. When I first got here, Last Chance was a thriving ranching and farming community. We had a bank, a couple restaurants, neither of them the Dip ’n’ Dine, a dry goods store, and I don’t remember what all. Then came the drought and the interstate going through up by San Ramon, and we shrunk. Then the chile cannery opened, and we grew again. Then it closed down, and we got to be about where we are now.”
“I don’t remember all that.”
“Well, you weren’t even here for most of it. And you were pretty little when the cannery closed. But as you say, Last Chance is still here, and with young people like you and, yes, Chris coming in, I imagine we’ll do fine.”
Sarah took a sip of her iced tea and didn’t say anything. Gran may have been right about change being the nature of life, but she didn’t have to like it much.
Elizabeth looked at the trim gold watch on her wrist and set her empty glass back down. “I guess I better get on home. It’s been quite a day for both of us, and one of my shows is fixing to come on.”
“Let me walk you home.”
“No, darlin’. We need to get this settled. I hope we do a whole lot of back-and-forthing between our houses, but you’re not going to walk me every time. I’m not an invalid, and I know my own way home.”
“I was afraid you were going to be that way. Hang on.” Sarah ducked into the house and was back in a minute. “Here. I bought you a flashlight. Promise you’ll use it, and I won’t bug you about walking you home.”
Elizabeth turned it on and off a couple times, then focused the beam on the walk in front of her. “Hmm! This might be nice. Thank you, darlin’.”
Sarah watched her grandmother follow the pool of light down the walk. Sam must have joined her when she reached her gate because the gentle fussing Elizabeth always directed toward her cat floated back down the street, followed a moment later by the sound of Elizabeth’s front screen opening and closing.
Sarah moved her little table to a spot in front of her chair and propped her feet up on it. It felt good to be on her own porch. She could go in or stay out. It was totally up to her. She leaned back and closed her eyes as the night wind sprang up and ruffled her hair and the events of the day played like a movie through her mind. When she got to the part where Chris Reed had driven himself into a cul-de-sac and then had to drive back by her house as if he had meant to do it, she started giggling.
Still giggling, she got to her feet and went back inside. Gran was right about one thing: as much as Sarah loved her grandmother, she did miss hanging out with people her own age, and face it, pickings were slim in Last Chance when it came to young people. Maybe she would invite Chris over sometime. She’d be right up front that all she was looking for was a friend, and he did make her laugh.
7
You know, you really should think about joining the choir.” The first of the Monday morning breakfast crowd had turned their attention to the plates of eggs, biscuits, and green chile in front of them, and Juanita took a minute to join Chris in the kitchen.
Chris, hunched in front of his computer, just grunted his response.
“Seriously.” Once Juanita had a good idea, she didn’t waste it by just letting it drop. “In the first place, you have a really good voice, and since Ed
Preston went to live with his daughter, we are short in the men department. And in the second place, it would do you a world of good, PR-wise. Folks would start seeing you as someone who wanted to be a part of Last Chance, not just some big-city outsider come in to make a fast buck.”
Chris closed his account page and sighed. The only word of Juanita’s description that seemed to fit him at all was “outsider.” He didn’t feel like a big-city boy at all, and no way was anyone ever going to make a fast buck off the Dip ’n’ Dine.
“So what do you think? Choir practice Wednesday? 8:00?”
Chris leaned back in his chair so he could look up at Juanita. “I already had this conversation with Lurlene. Maybe someday, but not right now. But if and when I do, it sure won’t be to promote the restaurant.”
“Well, that’s not what I meant at all, and I should hope you’d know that.” Juanita’s mouth had pinched up and she blinked a few times for emphasis. “Russ and I both have devoted ourselves to that choir for more than thirty years, and I’d be the last to suggest using it for anything but praise and worship. I only meant to suggest it wouldn’t hurt for people to see that you care about some of the same things they do. And that’s all I meant.”
Juanita tapped her finger with a sharp rap on his desk as she said “only” and “all I meant,” and Chris realized he had really blundered this time. But, come on, she was the one who’d used the word PR. He really wanted to let the whole thing drop and get back to his books, but Juanita stood in front of his desk, arms crossed over her chest and sucking in air through her nose. This was not going away. He stood up and perched on the edge of his desk so she’d stop looking down on him and making him feel like she was going to send him to his room.
“Look, Juanita, I apologize. I really do. If I’d been listening a little closer, I wouldn’t have misunderstood.” He flapped a halfhearted hand toward his computer. “I’m just, I don’t know, frustrated, I guess.”
Juanita deflated to normal size, and concern replaced her war mask. As she often confessed, concern for others always took precedence over any personal affront she might feel.
“What’s wrong, Chris? Everything’s okay with the Dip ’n’ Dine, isn’t it?”
Chris shrugged. “Yeah, everything’s okay—barely. Pretty much what Fayette had led me to believe, anyway. I just want to take things beyond ‘okay.’”
“By changing up the menu and all?”
“Well, yeah, for starters. And I still don’t think that’s a bad idea.”
“Not happening.” Carlos chimed in from the prep table where he was already at work on lunch. “It’s all I can do to keep up with the things that are already on the menu. Adding a bunch of new stuff would just shut the kitchen down.”
“I’m not talking about a bunch of new stuff. Just a dish or two.”
“Nope.”
“What if we brought in more help?”
“Nope. I got all the help I can work with now. Things are going fine. Just don’t mess it up and we’ll be okay.”
“But we won’t be okay.” Chris took a deep breath and tried again. “The number of customers hasn’t changed much, up or down, in twenty years.”
“Well, Last Chance is only so big, Chris.” Juanita, still in the kitchen, had to put in her two cents’ worth. “There may not be a ton of customers, but they’re faithful to this place. You should be grateful.”
“And I am.” Chris always felt way out of his depth when he got into a discussion with Juanita. “But if you have the same customers wanting to pay the same price for the same food year after year while the cost of running this place is going through the roof, sooner or later we’re going under, and we’re getting closer to that every month. Something’s got to give.” He sighed. He would not let it go down the drain without a fight.
“Been thinking, boss.” Carlos, still at his prep table, broke the stillness a few minutes later. “I’ve been here at the Dip ’n’ Dine for a good many years now, and I’d like to keep on. I’m getting too old to break in another owner. I’d forgotten till you got here how much work that was.”
Chris looked over. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So what if we worked with what we had?”
Chris waited.
“I mean, some things just aren’t going to change. The menu, for one thing.” Carlos glanced up to make sure Chris got his point. “And Juanita’s right about the prices not changing. You can take the prices up a few cents every now and then. The customers will think that’s only fair. But you can’t raise ’em enough to do you any good. Folks won’t have it.”
“Yeah, we covered that.” If Carlos had a point to make, he was sure taking his time about it.
“So what I was thinking is the only thing to do is get more customers in here.”
“Okay. Any ideas?”
“What if we kept the diner open late, maybe once a month or so, and did something special? Had us a big fiesta.”
Chris straightened up. He could almost feel the gears whirring. “I like that idea, Carlos. We could do something completely different each time. Maybe bring in live music.”
Carlos grinned. “Yeah, I have a big old smoker I could bring if we wanted to do a barbecue.”
“We could sell tickets in advance to build up the buzz, and then sell them at the door too.”
“And, of course, the beauty of it is that you could charge a little more for the tickets too. Folks’d be buying a ticket for a party, not ordering off a menu.”
Chris stared. Carlos had just said more in five minutes than he usually said in the course of a full day.
Chris could feel his excitement building. This could be what he was looking for. “It would take a ton of planning, though. How soon do you think we could pull this off?”
“Ask her.” Carlos jutted his chin at the front door where Rita had just breezed in, clipboard in hand. “Now, I gotta get back to work.”
Chris grinned and pushed through the door to the dining room. Rita’s eyes lit up when she saw him, but she had just opened her mouth to say her signature phrase when Chris beat her to it.
“Rita! Just the one I’ve been wanting to see.”
Chris drove into the carport of his mobile home and sat in the front seat of his Jeep gathering strength to get out and go inside. It had been another long day, but he felt more encouraged at the end of this one than he had in a long time. Rita, as he had known she would, took the fiesta idea and ran with it. And after he had been assured that the event would take place at the Dip ’n’ Dine, inside or out, and that he would provide all the food, he was good with letting her do the planning. She had promised regular meetings to update him, and he had no doubt those meetings would take place. He shook his head and headed inside.
His phone rang just as he settled himself in his big rocker in front of the television. He scowled at the screen. Mom never called just to chat. Something had to be up, and he just didn’t want to deal with it.
“Hello, dear. You haven’t heard from Kaitlyn, have you?”
Chris’s head rolled forward and rested with his chin on his chest. What now? “Not for a few days. Why?”
“I am so exasperated with her I could just shake her. I just got home from work, and there’s her cat and a note saying she’s taking Olivia off on some adventure before school starts. I thought maybe you knew about it.”
Chris tried to ignore the feeling of apprehension that always accompanied thoughts of Kaitlyn. “Well, I wouldn’t worry too much right now. School will be starting soon, and she can’t have that much vacation time built up. She only started working at that beauty shop a little while ago, didn’t she?”
“She quit! I can’t believe her! I called Chez Guillaume—a job I got for her, by the way—and they said she quit last Friday.”
Chris sat up. This was not sounding good. “What about her apartment? Are her things still there?”
“I don’t know. I’ll go over and check. But let me know when you hear from her, okay? If she cal
ls anyone, it’ll be you. Bye.”
Chris hung up and tried to call his sister. As usual, it went to voice mail. “Hey, Kaitlyn. What’s up? Mom’s really upset and you need to call her. I mean that. And hey, call me too. I need to know what’s going on with you and Olivia. Stay safe. I love you.”
He put his phone on the end table and paced the living room before stopping to look out the front window. The west, where Kaitlyn and Olivia ought to be, still glowed red, but darkness was fast overtaking the sky. Kaitlyn would do what she wanted to do. She’d been in and out of more scrapes than he could count, even though he did his best to keep her on the straight and narrow. But Olivia was so little, and it was so dark out there.
Chris checked his watch for the fiftieth time since his mom had phoned. Why hadn’t she called back with more information? Kaitlyn lived across town from their parents, but even so, she’d had plenty of time to go check Kaitlyn’s apartment and get back to him. Finally he called his mom. She answered in a flurry of apology.
“Oh, hi, hon. Sorry I forgot to call, but everything’s fine. Her apartment is just as she left it. The manager said she didn’t say anything about moving out, so I guess she’ll be back in a week or so. She’d better. The rent’s only paid through the first of the month. Although without a job, I don’t see how she’s going to pay it. And she’s not getting it from me. I am done bailing her out of her messes.”
Chris took a deep breath. “I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to call me.”
“I know, and I should have. But on the way over, I got a call from a client who was ready to make an offer on a property, so after I made a real quick stop at Kaitlyn’s, I swung by the office to write it up. I guess I just forgot to call. Sorry, dear.”
Chris had no words, but his mother didn’t seem to notice.
“But I’m excited about this offer. It’s a good one on some very prime real estate, and I have a real good feeling about it being accepted. So, congratulate me! Fingers crossed, but I think I made a very lucrative sale tonight.”
One More Last Chance Page 6
