Second-Chance Sweet Shop (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 7)

by Rochelle Alers

  “What did I miss while Victoria and I were gone?” Charlotte asked, as Sasha put the car in Reverse and backed out of the driveway.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I asked Victoria if I could see her place to give you and Dwight some time alone.”

  Sasha’s right foot hit the brake so hard the car lurched to a stop. “You did what?”

  “There’s no need to get your nose out of joint, Natasha. Even before you said you were going out with Dwight next weekend, I saw how he was staring at you when he opened the door. And anyone who isn’t visually impaired could see what you’ve tried so hard to hide.”

  “And what’s that, Mama?”

  “That you like each other.”

  Easing off the brake, Sasha continued driving, her teeth clenched so tightly that her jaw ached. She’d wanted to scream at her mother, to remind her that she was an adult and did not need her as a go-between to help her attract a man. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t like Dwight, but you have no right to try to play matchmaker.”

  Charlotte stared out the side window. “I’m sorry. You can call me a meddling old fool if you want.”

  “Don’t start with the guilt trip, Mama. I know you want the best for me, but that’s not going to happen until you let me experience life on my own, and to learn from my own mistakes and hopefully never repeat them.”

  “I know I never asked you, but do you want to get married again?”

  Sasha pondered the question for several seconds. “If I found someone I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with—then yes.”

  Shifting slightly, Charlotte turned and looked at her. “You didn’t see yourself when you came back to The Falls, Natasha. Not only did you look like the walking dead, but you were so angry that I was afraid to say anything to you. I know if I’d had a different temperament after you told me how Grant treated you, I would’ve driven to Nashville and—”

  “Don’t say it, Mama,” Sasha said, cutting her off. “Grant is my past and you don’t have to think or talk about what you’d liked or wanted to do to him.”

  “What I couldn’t understand was why you didn’t say something to me whenever we talked. If you’d given me the slightest hint of what you’d been going through with him, I would’ve told you to leave the son of a bitch.”

  “Mama! When did you start cussin’?”

  Charlotte made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “I did a lot of cussin’ when your father was alive. It’s just that I wouldn’t let my kids hear it.”

  “So, you gave as good as you got?”

  “Damn straight. Harold Manning knew I wouldn’t cuss him out when our kids were around, so he knew when to start up with me.”

  “Why did you marry him, Mama?”

  A beat passed. “Your father and I went out a few times, and the first time we slept together, he got me pregnant. And when I told him, he insisted we get married. His folks never married, and that always bothered him. And if I hadn’t married him, then you wouldn’t be here. And that’s something I’ve never regretted. I wanted and love all my children.”

  “Why didn’t Grandma and Pops get married?”

  “Your grandma’s first husband refused to give her a divorce, so she left him and moved in with Pops. They had a bunch of kids and lived together as common-law husband and wife even if the state of West Virginia doesn’t recognize it.”

  “The fact that you married Dad should’ve been enough for him.”

  “Harold was just an angry man, Natasha. After a while, I realized no one or nothing could make him happy. The first couple of years of our marriage I bent over backward to do whatever I could to make him not complain, but then I gave up. Either it was Harold’s way or no way.”

  Sasha thought about what she’d had to go through to keep peace in her marriage. And like her mother, she had done whatever she could to make Grant happy, and despite his meteoric rise in country music, it was never enough for him. If she’d had this conversation with Charlotte before she’d exchanged vows with Grant, Sasha knew she would not have married him. However, she wasn’t one to live with regrets, because it taught her what she would or would not accept if or when she became involved with a man again.

  “You really like Dwight, don’t you, Mama?”

  Charlotte smiled. “What is there not to like, Natasha? He’s gorgeous, intelligent and a wonderful father. You can tell in a single glance that he dotes on his daughter. Some men in his position would have a gaggle of women trailing after him. And you should count yourself among the lucky ones, because I believe you’re the first woman from The Falls he’s dated since Adrienne Wheeler.”

  “It could be he’s not really into local women.”

  “Not into them how, Natasha?”

  “Once burned, twice shy. Maybe he’s afraid to commit to one again.”

  “Does that bother you?” Charlotte asked.

  “No. I don’t have a problem dating Dwight and not wanting more.”

  “What if it becomes more?”

  “I can’t and don’t want to project that far into the future, Mama.”

  Sasha turned off into the driveway and parked beside the van with the sweet shop’s logo painted on the front doors. When she’d left earlier that afternoon to drive to Dwight’s house to share Sunday dinner with him and his family, she never could’ve imagined that he would ask her to accompany him to a local social event. But first they would start tongues wagging when they showed up together at the Wolf Den. And going out with Dwight had taken care of one concern for her: he was willing to date women out of his race.

  Charlotte opened the passenger-side door. “I think I’m going to turn in early. Right now, I’m as full as a tick, and after a couple of glasses of wine I doubt I’ll be able to keep my eyes open long enough to watch my regular shows.”

  “Make that two stuffed ticks.” Sasha got out and plucked the bag with containers of leftover food Victoria had insisted they take home with them once she’d sheepishly admitted she had cooked too much and didn’t want it to go to waste.

  Charlotte slowly made her way up the steps to the front door. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

  “First, I’m going to sleep in late. And then I’m going to the bank to deposit last week’s receipts. I also plan to stop by the newspaper’s office to see if Langston is there to interview me for his Who’s Who column. We’ve been playing phone tag for a couple of weeks.”

  “You don’t plan to go into the shop?”

  Sasha shook her head. Although she closed Sunday and Monday, she would occasionally go in and put up batches of yeast for bread or doughnuts or roll out piecrusts. “No.”

  “Good. It’s time you stop working when the shop is closed, or you’ll end up burning out.”

  “As soon as I put the food away, I’m going to change into my jammies, get into bed and set the TV to sleep mode.”

  True to her word, Sasha stored the leftovers in the fridge, cleansed her face of makeup and got into a pair of pajamas and slipped into bed. Picking up the remote on the bedside table, she flicked on the television resting on its own stand and settled down to watch a preprogrammed romantic-comedy movie.

  * * *

  Sasha finished totaling the weekly receipts and entered the amount into a bookkeeping program on the laptop linked to the desktop in the shop. After disbursing payroll and paying vendors, the business had yielded a profit for the third consecutive week, alleviating some of her former anxiety that the bakeshop would not be sustainable. She’d projected six continuous months of profits before contacting cooking schools to solicit their recommendations for an assistant pastry chef.

  Gathering her tote, she walked out of her bedroom and headed for the staircase. The sounds of laughter from the audience of a morning talk show came from the kitchen. The results of a positive checkup from
her cardiologist was good news for Charlotte. She’d volunteered to work longer hours, but Sasha rejected her suggestion. She wanted to wait until the fall before increasing Charlotte’s hours.

  “Mama, I’m leaving now.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  Sasha found an empty spot on the street far from the bank. Shopkeepers were sweeping and hosing down the sidewalks fronting their businesses. All the business establishments were shaded by black-and-white-striped awnings. She’d become a window-shopper in her own hometown, as she peered into the windows of the dry cleaner, Laundromat, pharmacy, hardware and department stores. As a child, the highlights of her Saturdays were when her mother went downtown, where they’d spent hours browsing and shopping for things they needed and a few they didn’t. The residents of The Falls did not have to leave their town to shop, because everything they’d want was available in the four-block-long business district.

  She walked into the bank and did not have to wait for a teller, who cheerfully greeted her. He’d just completed her transaction when Sasha heard someone call her name. Turning, she recognized a woman with whom she’d shared several classes in high school. Georgi, who was biracial, had inherited each of her parents’ best traits. She had a café au lait complexion, delicate features with a sprinkling of freckles and natural curly reddish hair that she’d pulled back and secured in a ponytail.

  “Georgi. How are you?” Sasha’s smile faded when she stared at Georgina Powell’s teeth. The gap that had been so much of her trademark smile was missing.

  Georgina’s large round eyes, the color of bright copper pennies, crinkled when she threw back her head and laughed. “I know you’re shocked not to see the gap, but I decided to give myself a present for my thirtieth birthday, because that was the first thing folks noticed whenever I introduced myself.”

  Sasha managed to look sheepish. “I must admit it was very distinctive.” Georgina had been an illustrator for their high school’s newspaper, and she had always talked about becoming an artist, but knew that was wishful thinking because she was expected to work for and eventually take control of the department store that had been in the Powell family for more than four generations. It had started up at the turn of the previous century as a general store selling everything from feed, seeds, fabric and household tools to canned goods. It expanded for years until it stocked enough merchandise that residents did not have to seek out large box or chain stores lining the interstate.

  “I heard a couple of months ago that you were back in The Falls, but I’ve been up to my eyeballs helping out my parents at the store that I don’t even have time to breathe. Stocking shelves, keeping track of inventory and taking care of customers has become a bit overwhelming. You should know that now that you’re running your own business.”

  “It can be somewhat daunting at times, but thankfully I have my mother, who has been a blessing.”

  Georgina leaned closer. “That’s what I want to talk to you about whenever you have some free time.”

  “Do you want to give me a hint?” Sasha asked.

  “I’m thinking of opening my own business here in The Falls.”

  Somewhat taken aback, Sasha went completely still. “You intend to compete with your parents for business?”

  Georgina shook her head. “I definitely will not compete. My father has decided to downsize the arts-and-crafts section and I want to open a small shop featuring needlecrafts. I’m aware that it may be a dying art, but there are a lot of folks who still knit and crochet. I also plan to give classes for those who want to learn to quilt by hand or machine. I used to complain when my grandmother forced me to learn needlecrafts, but now I’m grateful that she did. When she passed away, she left me a collection of quilts dating back to before the Civil War.”

  “They have to be priceless.” Sasha was unable to disguise the awe in her voice.

  “They are. We’ll talk about that another time. Right now, I need to deposit these receipts and get back to the store.”

  “Call the shop and let me know when you’re available.”

  Georgina hugged Sasha. “Thanks, girl.”

  Sasha walked out of the bank, wondering why her former classmate wasn’t pursuing her dream of becoming an illustrator instead of planning to open a needlecraft shop. Georgina wasn’t just talented; she was gifted.

  Reuniting with Georgina reminded Sasha that she was still estranged from her hometown. She’d returned the summer before and today was the first time she’d strolled along Main Street and gone into the bank, because normally Charlotte did that.

  Once Sasha had made the decision to return to Wickham Falls, she did not call and tell her mother. When she rang the bell and Charlotte opened the door, Sasha knew she’d looked vastly different than she had during her last visit, but she was also different inwardly. The first few weeks were a repeat of the one before: she slept, ate and watched countless movies. Then one day she decided she’d hidden enough and went into Preston McAvoy’s office to file papers of incorporation for her proposed new business. With her distinctive red hair dyed a nondescript brown and her face hidden by oversize sunglasses, no one recognized her as the woman who’d been married to the Nashville recording artist who’d crossed over from country to pop and Southern rock. Sasha had managed to keep a low profile even after word spread that she’d filed a permit to open a shop in the downtown business district.

  She knew her customers were curious as to why she had come back and even more so why she’d decided to divorce her superstar husband and give up what had been a glamorous lifestyle. Having her mother and Kiera man the front of the shop had saved Sasha from answering questions she had no intention of explaining.

  She was certain being seen with Dwight would generate more than its share of gossip, but at this point in her life Sasha was past caring what people thought of her. It had taken years for her to come into her own, and now at thirty-two she liked what she had become: the captain of her own destiny.

  * * *

  Dwight drove onto the driveway to the Manning house and got out. He had questioned himself over and over if he was courting trouble dating his daughter’s employer; the last local woman he’d dated he married, and despite his attraction to Sasha, he had no intention of marrying her or any other woman—at least for several years. He’d always mapped out his future carefully and it was only because of unforeseen circumstances that he was forced to modify his plans.

  The door opened before he could ring the bell and he came face-to-face with the subject of his musings. The sensual scent of her perfume, which now he could recognize if he was in a room with dozens of women. Sasha did not even remotely resemble the women he’d been involved with since his divorce, but that did not detract from what he’d found so engaging about her. She’d occasionally exhibit a shyness whenever he looked at her too long, making him wonder if she’d had much experience with men. Kiera constantly talked about her in glowing terms, which only made her go up several points on his approval scale.

  “You look very nice.”

  It was the only thing Dwight could think to say when he noticed the black stretchy long-sleeved T-shirt Sasha had paired with matching leggings and low-heel booties. The black attire, hugging every curve of her slim figure, made her appear even taller. She’d styled her hair in a ponytail and applied a light cover of makeup to her eyes and mouth. Sasha lowered her eyes, gazing up at him through long charcoal-gray lashes, a sensual gesture he’d come to recognize and look for.

  “Thank you. I’ll be right with you. I just have to get my jacket and keys.”

  Dwight turned his back rather than stare at the sensual sway of Sasha’s hips in the body-hugging attire. He had an inkling that Sasha was totally unaware of how sexy she was, and because of this he had to be very careful not to cross or blur the lines going from friends to lovers. Sleeping with her would not only complicate their relationship, but it would also impact Sash
a and Kiera’s. He shook his head as if to banish any licentious thoughts.

  “Ready.” Sasha had returned, wearing a fatigue jacket. “It’s an old one that belonged to one of my brothers.”

  A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Dwight’s mouth. All former and present members of the different branches were required to wear military paraphernalia to take advantage of the advertised specials at the sports bar. “Let’s go, Corporal Manning.”

  Sasha glanced down at her brother’s name and rank stamped on the jacket. “Maybe I should exchange it for another one.”

  Dwight took her hand. “Please don’t. Everyone knows you belong to a military family.” He led her around the passenger side of the Jeep and assisted her up.

  “Why did you decide to join the army?” Sasha asked as he got in and sat beside her.

  He gave a quick glance. “I wanted to continue the tradition of serving that began in my family dating back to before the Spanish–American War. Some of my relatives were buffalo soldiers, and before that served in all-black regiments during the Civil War.”

  “What if you’d decided not to serve?”

  Dwight put the vehicle in gear and drove down the tree-lined street, heading in the direction of the local road leading to the Wolf Den. “That wasn’t an option. I grew up listening to my father and grandfather trade war stories about Korea and Vietnam, and for me it was like watching a war movie. I’d heard the term ‘shell shock,’ but it wasn’t until I was much older that I realized it was a form of PTSD.”

  “Why did you decide to become a dentist?”

  “It really wasn’t my first choice. When I’d enrolled in college as a premed student, I’d planned to become a pediatrician. It wasn’t until my junior year that I decided I wanted to become a dentist.”

  “Do you like being a dentist?”

  “I love it. I like the personal one-on-one contact with the patient sitting in my chair, and helping people achieve a healthy mouth, which is essential to overall good health, is very satisfying.”