Texas Blues

by Ashley Quinn

  Natalie laughed as she gently sliced a wedge of the soft yellow pastry and handed it to her aunt. “Oh no, you don’t, she replied. “If I didn’t have you and Tia Jane here to help me run this bakery and that food truck outside, I think I’d lose my mind. Speaking of, where is she this morning?”

  “Your mind?” Celia cracked as she bit into the lemon bar. “Beats me, mija.”

  Natalie rolled her big brown eyes and grinned. “No, Tia Jane,” she continued. “Where is that wife of yours?”

  “Teaching morning yoga at that new studio in Southlake,” Celia replied. She paused and licked her thumb. “Ay mi dios, Natalie! These lemon bars are fantastic. How many did you make?”

  Natalie turned to the stove with a smile. “About three dozen,” she answered. “I changed the recipe slightly to get a bit more of that zesty lemon snap in them. I thought we could put some on the food truck today and see how the lunch crowd in downtown Dallas does with them.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Celia replied. “I’ll take the truck for the lunch shift and Jane can meet me from the studio.” She cleared her throat and then flipped through a binder on the counter. “So we have the Robinson engagement party on Friday evening and then the Martinez baby shower on Sunday afternoon. Do we have everything we need to prep for those orders?”

  Natalie nodded as she mentally scanned the huge pantry that housed most of the bakery’s dry goods. “Yes, Jane confirmed the orders with both parties yesterday while I inventoried the pantry. We’re ready for them.”

  Celia shook her head and grinned. “Of course we are,” she replied. “I’m so proud of you, Natalie. Your baking is by far the best in all of the metroplex. Maybe even all of Texas! Is there anything that my niece can’t do?”

  Natalie laughed and took a carton of eggs from the wide stainless steel refrigerator. “You’re too nice to me,” she replied. “Texas is a big state. And you have to say that because you’re my tia.”

  “No, no, no,” Celia held up a hand. “Texas is the best state. And I say it because it’s true. Are you making your French breakfast muffins this morning?”

  “Oh, now you’re just being sweet because you see the cinnamon on the counter,” Natalie replied with a smile. “And yes, I’m making the French breakfast muffins that you love so much. With an extra dash of nutmeg, just the way you like them.”

  “You know, your mom and dad both enjoyed cooking but they never had the talent that you do,” Celia mused. “I don't know where you picked up these baking genes, but fixing up this old bakery five years ago was one of the best things we’ve done.”

  “Oh Celia, Mom and Dad worked hard. They struggled just like the rest of us. That’s why I got to live with my cowboy boot-wearing fairy godmother tia and her wife when I was twelve and why Mom and Dad are enjoying a nice, quiet life in Montana these days,” Natalie replied lightly.

  Thank God for my aunts she finished silently. Dad never recovered financially after he lost his job on that oil rig. Years and years of moving all over the country to find work wherever there was oil took its toll on them. They wanted me to live a normal life, without having to move every year or two, and I’ve had just that with Celia and Jane.

  “You’ve always been more of a daughter to me than a niece,” Celia went on with a smile. “The Good Lord blessed me with a wonderful family, starting with you and Jane. Maybe more if you’d stop focusing so much on this bakery and find the right woman.”

  Natalie paused and opened a large drawer. She took out a set of metal measuring cups and eyed several plastic containers of sugar before deciding on an organic cane. “You get what you give, Celia,” she finally replied. “You put good into this world and good will come back to you in all forms. I’ll find the right woman when it’s the right time.”

  Celia clucked her tongue and crossed her arms. “The longer you wait, the slimmer the pickings. Especially out in these parts. I’d just hate to see you wait forever.”

  Natalie dumped a cup of sugar into a large metal bowl. “I appreciate your wisdom,” she replied. “But let’s concentrate on today, okay? And making some of the most popular breakfast muffins this side of the Trinity River.”

  Celia raised her palms in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” she conceded. “Jane always tells me not to worry so much about you. She understands that you’re your own woman. I just want to see my beautiful sobrina happy and settled with a good woman. Your mom and dad always kept it together, miraculously. Jane and I have one another. Now it’s your turn to find someone special.”

  Natalie turned from the counter with a wide smile and planted a kiss on her aunt’s cheek. “I do have someone special,” she responded brightly. “In fact, I have many special someones. I have you, for starters. I have Tia Jane, who is absolutely right in assuring you not to worry so much about me. I have Mom and Dad who, even if they’re retired away from it all in Montana now, still call every other day. Did I tell you they figured out how to download Skype to their laptop?”

  Celia smiled and patted her hand. “Say mija, have you gotten your truck fixed? I noticed the other day that the oil was low...”

  Natalie grinned as her aunt went on. Once these muffins are ready, she’ll stop talking...For a little bit she thought happily. I wouldn’t trade her for any other family in the world. She was the one who took me in so I wouldn’t have to move all over the country for Dad to keep working. She was the one who would watch old Hollywood classics with me on Friday nights when everyone else at school was going to the big football game or the dance. She taught me to be compassionate and grateful, no matter the circumstances. She was the one who helped me figure out how to take my life’s passion and turn it into this viable little business so I’d never have be a slave to work like my parents.

  “...Natalie, did you hear me?” Celia’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I was saying it might be time to trade that truck in while you can still get something for it. Especially if you’re having problems with the oil pan...”

  Natalie took a deep, satisfactory breath and sprinkled nutmeg over the dry muffin mix. “Yes, I hear you Tia.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The phone was loud and unwelcome as London slowly opened her eyes and glared into the darkness. “It’s not even light out yet,” she muttered as she felt haphazardly around her bedside table. “It should be illegal to call someone before their morning alarm goes off.”

  She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “London calling!” A male voice boomed. She cringed as she immediately recognized her father’s cheerful tone.

  Crap she thought. I was avoiding him.

  “I don’t think the joke works as well if it’s you calling me and not the other way around,” London replied coolly. Not to mention you say that every time we speak on the phone. Which has been more times since Mom passed away than in the last ten years, but that doesn’t make being absent from most of my life okay.

  “I know, but it doesn’t get old,” Vincent Foster went on jovially. “Look, I realize it’s early. I’m in Dubai for a couple of business meetings and I honestly forgot about the time difference.” He paused. “I’m glad I caught you. I tried to call a few times in the last month and haven’t heard back from you.”

  London rubbed a hand over her face sleepily. “Sorry,” she replied lamely. “I’ve been working.”

  There was another short pause. “Well, I know you’re a workaholic,” Vince continued. “A chip off the old block, I suppose. The reason for my call was to find out if you’d given any more thought to what I’d suggested when we spoke around Christmas.”

  London felt very close to whining and tossed onto her side in frustration. She briefly remembered his appearance at her mother’s wake. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in years, but had recognized him immediately. Whatever reunion he was hoping for wasn’t going to happen she thought. I was far too upset and doing too much grieving to even speak to him beyond thanking him for coming.


  She wrapped her comforter tighter around her. Has it been since Christmas when I last spoke to him? She wondered in mild surprise. I suppose I’ve been avoiding his calls longer than I realized.

  “Sorry, what did we talk about?” London asked. She racked her brain trying to recall their brief holiday conversation. Vince had regularly reached out since her mother’s funeral and London knew he wanted to rekindle the long-lost relationship.

  She shook her head in the darkness of the small bedroom. Too little, too late Dad.

  Vince cleared his throat. “About you visiting,” he replied. “Taking some time off work and coming down to Texas for a few weeks. You know, spend some time with your old man, hang out with your little sister...”

  “Half-sister,” London sighed tiredly. “I’ll have to check my, um, calendar and see what’s on for, um, this summer...”

  Vince took a deep breath. “London, I know I wasn’t around much. I know I’ve made a lifetime’s worth of mistakes in the way I was largely absent from your childhood. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again that I’d really like to start making amends. Let’s get to know each other now. You have a sister that you haven’t seen since she was in elementary school and she’ll be at the house this summer. I’ll be traveling some, but it’s a start...”

  London interrupted him with a heavy, impatient sigh. Everything is always on his time.

  “We can all ease into being a part of each other’s lives,” Vince continued. “I’ve always provided for you, even from afar. I made sure your mom could afford to send you to the best private schools in Chicago and that you two lived in the biggest two-flat in the nicest neighborhood. I’ll continue to support you so you can take some time off and regroup. Stop worrying so much and spend some time in Fort Worth. I know that city has got to be killing you after losing your mother so quickly.”

  London felt her blood simmer to a slow boil as she listened to her father’s slow Southern drawl. He’s right, you know a tiny voice piped up inside her. The city is killing you. You feel hollow, suffocated and depressed every day. You struggle to get out of bed and you spend hours at the gym so you don’t have to think.

  “You don’t know how I feel or what I think about anything I may be faced with,” London replied sharply. But the thing is, I don’t want him to be right. He never knew me, and now he thinks he can step in to rekindle the father-daughter relationship that never was? Yeah, right. “I told you I would consider it and I haven’t looked over my calendar yet. The only consistent family member I’ve had throughout my life recently passed away, so yes, I may be throwing myself into my work to cope. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to hop a plane to Texas just because you and Tiffany feel sorry for me.”

  She listened to her father’s sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I understand, London,” he responded gently after a moment. “I can’t imagine how hurt you must be and I’m just sorry that I wasn’t there enough to be someone that you trust to turn to in a time like this. I really am. If you’d like, I can back off for a while. The last thing I want to do is upset you further.”

  London closed her eyes and bit her lip. “I’m sorry too,” she replied. The malice she felt had evaporated. “It’s just early. Look, I’ll take a look at my calendar this afternoon and give you a call soon. Maybe we can work out a long weekend visit over the summer or something.”

  “Okay, London,” Vince murmured. “That sounds good.”

  As they hung up, London pulled her leather-bound weekly planner from the drawer of her bedside table. She turned a few pages and then paused. She tossed the planner back onto the table with a shake of her head. Maybe some other time.

  London sank back into her blankets and squinted at her alarm clock. Two minutes until I’m supposed to be up. She pulled a pillow over her face and groaned loudly.

  “This is not my week. Or my month. Or my year.”

  ---

  Natalie took a deep breath as she climbed into the driver’s seat of her truck. The sun was sinking into the horizon and she was exhausted after another busy day at the bakery. She rested the back of her head against the headrest for a moment and cranked the radio dial. It was set to a classic rock station. She thought of her Aunt Jane taking her to a Fleetwood Mac concert when she was just thirteen. The memory made her grin. She had introduced her to that band and Natalie had been a fan ever since, preferring classic rock to whatever the Top 40 was that week.

  She smiled again. Much to the chagrin of my friends growing up. Whatever. It’s good music.

  The familiar honk of a Dodge Ram 1500 pulled her from her thoughts as she glanced in the rearview mirror. Her best friend, Paula Ortiz, rolled down the window of her truck.

  “Hey, you!” Paula called out. “I was just headed over to your place, but I thought you might still be here. I’m so glad I caught you.”

  Natalie could barely make out a tousled head in the backseat, the small figure sound asleep. She smiled at her longtime friend’s eight-year old daughter. “I won’t wake her,” she replied. “What’s up?”

  Paula took a deep breath. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you be able to watch Isabella on Sunday? Rudy won’t be done with his contract assignment on the rig in Odessa for another seven weeks and I have to drive all the way to Denton for my cousin’s quinceanera. My grandmother will have a meltdown if I don’t go because it would be the third family event I’ve missed since Rudy’s been away at work. And I’d rather not drag Isabella because, as we all know,” Paula paused and shot a glance at her sleeping daughter. “As angelic as she looks now, she finds trouble easier than any little girl I’ve known. Always wandering off, asking inappropriate questions, exploring things...”

  Natalie laughed and held up a hand to cut off her friend’s venting. “I’m going to be here and dropping off a catering order, but she’s more than welcome to hang out. You know that. You’re like my sister, Paula, and I’ve helped you and Rudy with Isabella since she was born.”

  Paula let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed. “I’ll call you this week and let you know what time. For now, I’d better get this one home before she wakes up and finds her second wind.”

  Natalie nodded and waved as Paula rolled up the window of her truck and drove off. A large cloud of brown dust kicked up in its wake. We may not be blood-related, but Paula has been my closest friend since middle school she thought. Besides, she’s always helped in the bakery around the holidays when we’ve needed an extra hand. Celia always says that family helps family no matter what. Paula is just as much my family as anyone else.

  Natalie backed her truck onto the road, rolling over a few small tumbleweeds that bounced across the heat-baked pavement. As she turned the radio dial back up, she grinned at the setting sun glowing as far as the eye could see across the horizon.

  “Take every day as it comes,” she reminded herself softly. “There is so much to love and be grateful for. Today, it’s this gorgeous sun and sky that you can’t get anywhere else in the world. There’s no place like home and there’s definitely nowhere like Texas.”

  CHAPTER 4

  London stood impatiently at the side doors of the Art Institute and scanned the crowds of well-dressed party-goers for Holly. She glanced at the window next to her and was taken aback by her reflection. I look angry she thought in wonderment. God, do I always look like that?

  She absent-mindedly smoothed her hair with one hand. The glossy jet black bob was slightly grown out and rested just above her defined shoulders. She glanced surreptitiously at her reflection again. Her wide, ice-blue eyes held a certain hardness in them, even with her long eyelashes coated in mascara. Her pale skin that had once glowed brightly now looked pasty and sallow.

  I can’t even stand my own reflection London thought with a sigh. She played with a thread on the sleeve of her black blazer and startled as someone grabbed her waist.

  “You look hot!” Holly exclaimed as London turned in s
urprise. “Wow, all that time in the gym has really been doing excellent things to your physique.”

  London smiled despite herself and embraced her friend. She had chosen her outfit quickly and wore a white silk shirt beneath her blazer and skinny black pants paired with motorcycle boots.

  “See, and you tease me for spending so much time there,” she replied with a laugh. “Holly, you look stunning. I would be honored to be your pretend lesbian date tonight.”

  They giggled as London gallantly stuck out her elbow. Holly slid her arm through and fanned herself with a black lace fan. They slowly made their way through throngs of people and had their names checked off a list by a tuxedo-ed man standing at the entrance to the ballroom.

  “Pictures!” Holly exclaimed with delight as they were met with a red carpet. London stood patiently as Holly posed along the red carpet and paused at a backdrop as a few photographers snapped away. Her form-hugging yellow dress looked phenomenal against her cocoa-colored skin and her eyes shone with a confidence that London had always admired.

  Holly laughed as she stepped away and grabbed London’s arm. “I’m a sucker for a red carpet,” she admitted. “Even at forty-five years old, the princess fantasy never goes away. Besides, I should be able to show off this way-too-expensive dress because I have a feeling Michael will have a stroke when he sees our credit card statement next month.”

  London nodded and pretended to listen. I wonder if it’s too soon to ask about her meeting with the C.E.O. She wondered anxiously. She’s been holed up in meetings for the last two days. I’ve barely seen her and it’s driving me crazy. Maybe this promotion would be good for me. Anything to get out of this funk.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Holly interrupted London’s thoughts and nodded to a bar set up in the far corner. “All hail the open bar. What are you having, girl?”

  London shrugged. “Vodka soda, I guess.”

  “Good call,” Holly replied with a short nod. “Vodka for us both tonight.”