Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  “Go, keep expanding our business,” I ordered, starting to feel suffocated by their hovering. “I’ll be fine here. I’ve got plenty to keep my busy all day, and well into the night.”

  “Okay, but call us if you need anything,” Tasha said.

  I rolled my eyes and bit back the, yes, mother, that was threatening to come out. Instead, I just nodded again, then held my breath until they left.

  Once they were gone, I could breathe again and proceeded to lose myself in my work, thankful for the menial task of whipping meringue. It didn’t take a genius to make the delicious topping that would adorn my lemon meringue pie, just a few simple ingredients, some patience, and a strong wrist.

  I opted to make the meringue by hand instead of with a mixer, for this very reason. So I could lose myself in the creation.

  “Hey, Millie.”

  It took me a moment to register my name being called and pull myself out of the numbness. After a few seconds, I turned my head toward the sound and blinked at Claire.

  “Yes?”

  “You have a woman out here asking for you.”

  Claire was manning the storefront this morning, as she had for the last five mornings, allowing me to hide in the back.

  I blinked again, then looked down at my meringue, still whisking, and said, “About two more minutes.”

  “I’ll let her know,” Claire replied, and I focused back on the task at hand.

  Once the meringue was finished, I put it aside with the intention of finishing the pie once I was done talking to whomever was waiting out front, washed my whisk, then finally my hands, before checking my apron for stains and heading out of the kitchen.

  I glanced at Claire, who tilted her head to her right. I started toward the older woman who was standing by the display case. She was well-dressed, with her hair and makeup done. She had a kind, open face, but I’d never seen her before.

  Thinking she was here to put in an order or see about booking a party, I tried my best to put my professional face on as I approached.

  “Yes, ma’am, how can I help you today?”

  Her gaze swung away from the pastries before her and locked on my face, assessing, before her lips parted and she said, “Hello, Millie, right?”

  “Yes, I’m Millie,” I stated, holding my hand out.

  She placed her well-manicured hand in mine and said, “Nice to meet you, I’m Rhonda Heeler.”

  Her last name slapped me in the face so hard that I flinched and started to pull my hand from her grasp, but for a small woman, she was strong, and tightened her grip.

  “My granddaughter asked me to bring her here today.” At the mention of Kayla, I started to survey the dining area, then noticed movement behind Mrs. Heeler and watched as Kayla stepped out from behind her. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  “Ah, yes, of course, please, follow me,” I managed, finally getting my hand back and turning to lead them through the kitchen and to the stairs up to my apartment. I didn’t look back to make sure they followed, rude of me, I know, but I needed the time to compose myself.

  To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Not only that Kayla had sought me out, but this was not the way I saw my first meeting with Jackson’s mother going. Being here with Kayla, she had to know what had happened between Jackson and me, at least the gist of it. What must she think of me?

  I motioned to my kitchen table. It was small, but probably the best setting for whatever this was.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked automatically, my mother’s insistence on hospitality shining through. “Water, coffee, some cookies?”

  “No thank you,” Mrs. Heeler said, at the same time Kayla requested, “Cookies.”

  I couldn’t stop my small smile at Kayla. Even thought our last encounter had been disastrous, I really did empathize with her.

  I put the chocolate macadamia nut cookies on a small serving plate and placed it in the center of the round table, then with nothing left to do, I sat. My chair made a loud scraping sound as I tried to get comfortable, then I breathed a cleansing breath in through my nose, folded my hands on the table in front of me, and tried to look poised.

  From the smile on Mrs. Heeler’s face, she could see right through me, but was too polite to comment on it.

  I was looking to Mrs. Heeler to start the conversation, but it was Kayla who said, “I’m sorry, Millie.”

  I blinked back a rush of tears as my throat burned at the sadness in her voice.

  Turning my attention to Jackson’s daughter, I could see she had a lot weighing on her young mind, so I bit my tongue and waited for her to finish what she wanted to say.

  Kayla took a deep, exaggerated breath, and blew it out. She picked up a cookie and broke a piece off, but didn’t put it in her mouth. Finally, she tore her eyes from the table and looked at me.

  When she didn’t speak right away, Mrs. Heeler put her hand on her grandaughter’s shoulder, then looked at me and explained, “Kayla and I had a long talk about her feelings and the way she’s been behaving. It was her idea to come here to talk to you, so she could apologize.”

  With that said, she gave Kayla a nod of encouragement.

  “I was awful to you,” Kayla began, her eyes holding mine bravely. “Rude and mean, and running away that day was in-un-ah…” She looked to her grandmother for guidance.

  “Unforgivable,” Mrs. Heeler coached, her tone firm, but her eyes gentle.

  “Yeah, unforgivable. I never should have broken your flowers or yelled at you. It wasn’t really even you I was mad at.” Kayla looked to her grandmother once more, and when she nodded, finished with, “It was my mother. It is my mother … that I’m mad at, not you.”

  Needing to ease her burden, I reached my hand out and placed it on her forearm.

  “I understand, and I promise, I’m not mad at you, Kayla. I was really worried when I couldn’t find you,” I amended. “But, I’m not angry with you, and I do understand how you’re feeling. When I was little, my dad left us, and although it’s not exactly the same as what you’re going through, I do understand why you were upset.”

  “You’re not mad at me?” she asked softly, her eyes on my hand on her arm.

  “No.”

  “And, your dad left?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, you’re mad at my dad?”

  Her question made my heart skip a beat.

  “No, honey, I’m not mad at him.”

  Kayla lifted her head, bringing those eyes that were so much like Jackson’s to mine and holding.

  “Then why aren’t you talking to him? If you’re not mad at me, and you’re not mad at him, what’s going on? He’s very sad, and he misses you. You should call him.”

  Unsure of how to react, and having the distinct feeling that I was being played, I looked to Jackson’s mother like she could be my lifeline. She wasn’t.

  “I’ve never seen him so upset,” Mrs. Heeler said pointedly, and I knew she was referring to Julie, but didn’t want to bring up the other woman in front of Kayla.

  I looked from grandmother to granddaughter, then back again, unsure of how to proceed. What to do. How to feel.

  “I don’t know if the timing is right…” I began, but Mrs. Heeler held and got right to the point.

  “Do you love him?”

  I gulped, unsure of how truthful I should be.

  “My daddy says, either you love someone or you don’t. I heard him in class one time, and he said the characters in his books spend so much time being ob-ob … What’s the word for dumb?” she asked.

  Mrs. Heeler and I both said, “Obtuse.”

  “Yeah, obtuse. The characters spend so much time being obtuse, that they miss out on all kinds of good times with the person they love. That if you’re in love, you should tell the person, and you’ll both be happier.”

  “Ah…” I croaked, unable to get words to come out of my mouth.

  “It’s okay,” Mrs. Heeler said as she rose, pausing to pat my hand
gently. “We came here to say what we needed to say, what you do with it, is up to you.”

  They crossed the room to my front door, leaving me sitting at my table, gaping. Then, with one hand on the door handle, Mrs. Heeler looked over her shoulder at me and added, “You look like a smart woman, Millie. I hope my instincts about you are correct.”

  And with that, they swept out of my apartment, leaving me staring after them, wondering what the heck just happened, and what I’m going to do about it?

  Jackson

  Another Monday, another workday, another day where I was just passing through life. Not really living it, instead floating from minute to minute, waiting for the day to end.

  I’d been in such a funk that I was starting to get on my own nerves, and as I walked through my classroom, making sure my students were focused on their own quizzes and not peeking at anyone else’s, I vowed to sort my shit out that evening.

  Maybe I’ll ask the guys to go out for a drink.

  As if I’d conjured him, I saw Ty’s face pop up in the window to my door. I held up a finger to indicate I couldn’t talk now, but would get back to him later. Rather than nod in response as usual, he got this big goofy grin, gave me two thumbs up, and pushed my door open.

  What the…?

  I stopped in the middle of my room when Millie stepped through the door he’d just opened, a piece of loose-leaf paper clutched in her hands.

  I drank in the site of her like a man drowning. The soft billowy curls of her chestnut hair, the way the pretty floral dress accented her delicate curves and flowed down to her sandaled feet. She looked gorgeous, but the way I’d been missing her, she could have walked in wearing a burlap sack and she would have been the best thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  Even as my heart roared back to life, I stopped myself from rushing forward and taking her in my arms.

  I need to be smart, and guard myself. After all, I couldn’t be certain of why she was here.

  “Millie, uh, hi, what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to come off as unconcerned, but ruining it when my voice cracked.

  “I needed to see you,” she began softly.

  “I’m in the middle of class, maybe we can get together after school,” I suggested, even though the last thing I wanted was for her to leave. Still, I couldn’t come off as totally eager. I didn’t want her to think I’d been pining like some lovesick teen, even though that was an accurate description.

  I need to be a man.

  “I’ll only take a moment,” Millie argued, her tone wavering.

  I watched her take a deep breath and noticed the paper shaking slightly in her grasp, and was about to say fuck manhood and go to her when she stopped me in my tracks.

  “What greater punishment is there in life when you’ve lost everything that made it worth living?”

  Her voice was strong as she read off the page, and I heard my class begin to murmur.

  “Shakespeare,” one of my kids whispered to the class, and I was proud that they remembered.

  “I’m so sorry,” Millie was saying, her eyes back on me. “I was scared. Terrified actually. And losing Kayla that way, seeing how she was dealing with everything that’s going on in her life right now, brought back all of these feelings that I hadn’t had in years, and I freaked out.”

  I waited, needing to hear more.

  She looked back down.

  “It is better to lose your pride to the one you love, than to lose the one you love, for your pride.”

  At the word love, my world stopped and through the buzzing in my ears, I heard another student say, a little louder this time, “Pride and Prejudice.”

  I looked around the room and saw we had my students’ undivided attention. There were smiles and faces resting on palms, one kid was even taking notes. If someone pulled out a bowl of popcorn, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “I was afraid, a total chicken, and I know that’s not what you or Kayla need in your lives, but I promise it won’t happen again. I realize that I can help Kayla get through this, not only because I’ve been through it, but because I care about her. About her happiness. And, when she and your mom came to see me, I knew that we’d be able to get through this time together.”

  “My mom and Kayla came to see you?” I asked, remembering Kayla’s insistence on going to my parents.

  Sneaky girl.

  Millie cleared her throat nervously, bringing my attention back to her.

  “When I look into your eyes I don’t see just you. I see my today, my tomorrow and my future. For the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t think I know that one,” one of the guys said.

  After a few seconds, someone, I think Jeannie said, “Oh, oh, I think it’s Outlander.”

  I saw Millie smile a little and decided that Jeannie deserved an A for reading more than the required reading for class.

  “I’ve never felt the things I feel for you, for anyone else, and I never will. I know I got scared and messed up, and I’m sorry for the pain I put you through, but I hope you can forgive me. Give me another chance.”

  I didn’t move, not to nod or give her any sort of affirmation. It wasn’t just that I was stunned, although I was, and it wasn’t that I was wary, although I was that, too. It was that I was positively swooning.

  Swept off my feet.

  Knocked to my knees by this woman who was turning my life into one of the very books she was quoting, the books that were my passion, my work…

  “My heart is, and always will be, yours.”

  Her hands dropped to her sides, the paper hanging from her fingers. The paper that I would take from her and frame, to show all of our children, grandchildren, and their children after.

  “Sense and Sensibility!” Jonathon shouted out, obviously pleased to have figured one out first.

  I tuned him out and finally crossed to her.

  Millie’s head tilted back as she looked at me with hopeful eyes. “I’m gonna need that paper,” I said, before sealing our fate with a kiss.

  I tried to ignore the cheering and catcalls of my students, but when I broke the kiss and pulled back, we were both grinning.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, trying to calm them down, then thought, fuck it, and said, “You’re all getting A’s.”

  Millie was laughing when the class erupted once more.

  Epilogue - Millie

  It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  Stone with dark shutters, white pillars, bright-green trees, and lush, red bushes. Graceland Mansion was everything I’d imaged, and more. And that was just the outside.

  It had taken us longer to get here than we’d initially thought. Trying to plan around Jackson’s school schedule, and dealing with the rapid growth of Three Sisters Catering when we added elegant children’s parties and landed one of our biggest clients to date, had made it difficult.

  But now, six months later, we were finally in Memphis, and I was currently trying to teach Kayla about the wonder that is Elvis.

  “He’s the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll for a reason,” I was explaining as we walked to the Meditation Garden. “He still holds the record for the most Top 40 hits, he was in thirty-one movies, made over one-hundred and fifty albums and singles, and has been inducted into five halls of fame.”

  “You should totally work here,” Kayla said in between licks of her hand-dipped ice cream cone from Minnie Mae’s Sweets at Elvis Presley’s Memphis.

  Jackson started laughing, and while normally I would have shot him a death glare, I was too happy to even conjure one up.

  Jackson had totally outdone himself with this trip. When we’d decided to bring Kayla, he’d booked us a room at The Guest House at Graceland, where we were enjoying a weekend of total submersion into all things Elvis.

  It was the best weekend of my life, and although I knew Kayla would rather be at Disneyland, and Jackson would probably be just about anywhere else, they were both enjoying watching me live out one of my childhood dreams
.

  Seriously, there was so much amazingness in this place, I could barely stand it.

  It’s not just a mansion … There’s the Presley Motors Automobile Museum, Elvis: The Entertainer Career Museum, Discovery Exhibits, Elvis Presley’s Memphis, The Meditation Garden, plus the tours of Graceland. It was so much more than I’d ever imagined.

  After we were done perusing The Meditation Garden, we walked the grounds, nodding at other Elvis enthusiasts as we enjoyed the perfect weather. Kayla was between us, holding each of our hands as we swung her out. Her legs were a little too long, but she didn’t care, she just held them up, laughed happily, and said, “Again,” over and over.

  Since she was nine and probably at least fifty pounds, my arm was starting to get tired, when I saw a sign for The Chapel in the Woods.

  “Oh, can we go there?” I asked gleefully. We’d seen almost everything there was to see on the grounds, but we hadn’t been to the chapel yet.

  We started in that direction, and when we happened upon the darling little chapel nestled in, I rushed toward in oohing and aahing. I had one hand on the railing, and was turning to say how beautiful the setting was, when I saw that both Jackson and Kayla were down on one knee, watching me expectantly.

  I turned slowly, one hand on my stomach, the other at my throat, and moved until I was standing before them. My breath caught when I looked down and saw Jackson holding a gorgeous, three-stone rose-gold engagement ring in his hands.

  The hand at my neck came up to cover my mouth.

  “Millie.” I was surprised when the first words came from Kayla, but I shifted to give her my undivided attention. She looked up at her dad, who nodded his encouragement, then back at me. “I know I was a brat at first, and I did what I could to push you away, but that’s only because I was afraid to like you, then have you leave. And, even though you freak out over Elvis, and spend way too much time kissing my dad, you’re pretty cool. You make all that good food, and bake me cookies when I want, and I like helping you in the kitchen. Plus, you have pretty cool sisters, and I’ve never had aunts. So, my dad and I would love it if you’d join our family, and let us join yours.”