by Maisy Morgan
Mary smiled. She had been meaning to go visit the unusual-looking antique shop for weeks. It was a large, white, wooden building that looked as though it had once been somebody’s home. The old building sat on a small lot with gravel parking and was surrounded by odds and ends on the lawn. “I’ve wanted to come check that shop out,” Mary said.
“Well, you should,” Cindy said. “It’s a pretty amazing shop. You should see some of the antique clothes I get in there. Lots of 40s –style dresses.”
“Ah,” Mary said, eyeing the woman’s outfit yet again. “Big on clothes?”
“A little,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t like the whole dress and heels thing, but my daughter loves the style on me, and, well, whatever makes her smile, you know? I’m more of a sweatpants and t-shirt kind of lady myself.”
“Aw, how old is your daughter?” Mary asked.
“She’s fourteen,” Cindy said. “Thinks she’s the boss of me like most do at that age.”
Mary beamed. “Does your daughter hang out at your shop any?”
“During the summer and after school during the school year,” she said. “Hannah’s actually there a good bit.”
“I love that name,” Mary said and then nodded towards her own shop. “That’s my grandson in there. Tripp. He’ll be spending a lot of time here at the shop. We just moved from LA, so he doesn’t really know anyone around here his age just yet.”
“Then we’ve got to get the kiddos together,” Cindy said. “Probably a little old for playdates at this point, But allow me to invite you folks out as a way of welcoming you to town. Maybe we could do a movie or something?”
“I would love that,” Mary said, smiling. “I am a little worried about moving my grandson all the way out here… away from all his friends. Some rather unfortunate circumstances has led to our current living situation.”
“I can imagine. Is it just the two of you?” Cindy asked.
“Yes. His father just recently passed,” Mary said hesitantly, not quite ready to unload all the details on a woman she had just met. “So, he’s with me now.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Cindy said. “But, we would love to get to know our business neighbors!”
“Same,” Mary said as she grinned, glad knowing that she herself was making a friend. If Tripp hit it off with this woman’s daughter, things would really be looking up.
“Ooh,” Cindy said, looking up at the grand opening date on the banner. “Your opening is coming up quick. You going to be ready in time?”
“I think so,” Mary said.
“You should consider getting a booth at the Brooks Day event. It’s this weekend. If you’re interested, I could talk to the event coordinator and try to help you out,” Cindy suggested. “It would be a great way to promote to the locals that your shop is opening up soon.” Then, the shop’s door opened, and Tripp came wandering out.
He had on a frown like he did most days, but he smiled slightly at Cindy – likely just as amused by her attire as Mary had been moments ago. “Tripp, this is Cindy. She works the antique shop down the way,” Mary said, pointing towards the ancient-looking white building.
Tripp grinned. “I like the metal rooster you have sitting on that porch.”
Cindy beamed. “Me too. Cute, isn’t it? So, you’re Mary’s grandson? Welcome to Brooks, Georgia, Tripp.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Cindy, you were just mentioning something called Brooks Day to me?” Mary asked.
“Oh, yes… well, it’s a Founder’s Day celebration. It’s held at the ballpark just down that way,” Cindy pointed towards a slope in the road that led down into a gulley-like area that was the entrance to the Brooks ballfield. “There will be music, a few games, snacks, and performances. It’s really fun. We go every year. What I was saying is, if you want to let everyone in Brooks know about your shop opening, I’d do a booth and sell some of your treats you’ll be offering.”
“And, it’s this weekend?” Mary asked hesitantly.
“Give me the word, and I’ll call the coordinator to see if she can squeeze you in,” Cindy said. “What do you say?”
“I say that’s a lot to try to get ready for in just a few days,” Mary said.
“Oh, this is perfect!” Cindy said, clapping her hands together. “Hannah and I can help you put little dessert boxes together and bake with you.”
Mary was a bit taken back by this generous offer. “You’d actually come help complete strangers bake and set up dessert boxes?” Mary asked.
“Of course I would,” Cindy said. “It’s called being neighborly, and frankly Hannah could stand to get out of the house. She’s been moping around the house all summer – she’s either there or at the shop, and I think she’s getting into a rut.”
“Who’s Hannah?” Tripp asked.
“That would be my daughter,” Cindy said. “She’s about your age. Fourteen?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“What do you say, Mary?” Cindy asked. “Just give me the word, and I’ll make the call.”
Mary looked at Tripp. “What do you think? Want to help me get ready for a festival this weekend?”
Tripp shrugged. “Not like I have anything better to do. Plus, if you want this shop to work, it would probably be a good way to advertise to the locals.”
“Great,” Cindy said and immediately exchanged numbers with Mary. “I’ve got to get back to my shop, but I’ll call and find out if there is any space left for your booth. If there is, we’ll plan a time to come by and help you and Tripp get ready for this weekend. This is going to be fun! Plus, I really want to try out some of your desserts.”
“Wow… I don’t know what to say, Cindy. You are just too sweet to offer to help with all this,” Mary said.
“A thank you should suffice,” she said with a wink before trotting off down the road towards the antique shop, her frilly dress swaying back and forth as she did so.
Chapter Three
Mary made sure to wake up early on Thursday morning, the morning that she and Cindy had decided they would work on the dessert boxes. They were coming to their home, and Mary hadn’t realized how bad of a shape it was in until the night before. She and Tripp had spent Wednesday evening emptying and stacking up moving boxes in a corner, not wanting the first guests they ever had to think they were total slobs. She had brought three trash bags full of empty pizza boxes to the road.
This morning, however, she busied herself with setting up the kitchen. She pulled out all the ingredients for the various summer seasonal desserts she had in mind for the Brooks Day event, having spent a considerable amount of time that week at the grocery store shopping for baking supplies. Tripp, as usual, came fumbling out of his bed way later than she would have hoped, his hair a complete mess. “You realize Cindy is bringing a girl here your age, right?” Mary said sternly, as Tripp poured himself a bowl of cereal.
“So?” he questioned.
“You are fourteen, yes?” Mary questioned.
“I don’t even know her. She might be weird. You saw the way Cindy dresses,” Tripp said. “You barely know the woman, and you invited her to our house.”
“What can I say – I like her style,” Mary said and then pointed out of the kitchen. “Finish your breakfast and then get upstairs.
Put on some clean clothes and deodorant, brush your teeth, and try to tame that hair of yours before our guests get here. Don’t you want to make a good first impression?”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Tripp said, scarfing down his cereal before disappearing.
Mary finished tidying up her kitchen and went ahead and pulled out all the dessert boxes she had gotten at a local craft store. Her goal was to one day order personalized dessert boxes for her business, but for now she had found these and had ordered sticker paper for her to print out some labels to put on the top of the boxes with her shop’s information on it. “Hey, Grandma, car!” Tripp called from upstairs, and Mary scurried to the front door, peering o
ut the window.
She hadn’t really played hostess for anyone in a long time, so Mary was rather excited that she was going to have some guests in her home. Truthfully, she would have preferred to wait until her home was a bit tidier, but she and Tripp had gotten it in an acceptable condition for people who were in the middle of a move. Mary waited by the door, not wanting to burst out on them too quickly.
Tripp came barreling down the stairs, stopping by Mary in the foyer. “She still out there?” he asked. “And, don’t you think it’s weird to be leering by the door like that, Mary?”
“Grandma,” Mary said sternly. “And maybe you’re right.”
They went back into the kitchen, and Mary laid out some recipe cards – each one with a lily pad scribbled in the top corner. “What kind of stuff do you bake anyways?” Tripp asked. “Anything good?”
Mary frowned. Had Tripp really not ever had her baking? “Have I never made anything for you before?” she asked.
“Seriously?” he questioned. “When would you have?”
Mary frowned. “Well, that changes today. What is your favorite dessert?”
“Gran-gran used to make some pretty awesome chocolate chip cookies with walnuts,” he said.
Ah, yes, Gran-gran, Mary thought with a twinge of annoyance. Gran-gran, his father’s mother, had passed away many years ago from breast cancer. She had been the primary mother figure in Tripp’s life growing up, and she had hated Mary and her daughter with a passion. “Chocolate chip cookies with walnuts, huh?” Mary asked. “You know, I don’t know about walnuts, but I got an awesome chocolate chip recipe I do with pecans.”
Tripp nodded approvingly. “That sounds good. I always liked pecans more than walnuts.”
Score one for Grandma, Mary thought, somewhat amused as she pulled out her chocolate chip and pecan cookies recipe. “They sure are taking a while,” Mary said at last, as she began to pour flour into a mixing bowl.
“Should we check on them?” Tripp asked. “They might be trying to figure out if they’re at the right house or something.”
“I didn’t even think about that,” Mary said, and the two of them made their way towards the front door.
Tripp nearly stumbled over some boxes trying to position himself to peer out of the dining room. He shoved them aside. “You really think we should be doing this? I mean, we haven’t even finished unpacking yet. Between the house and the shop, should we really be worrying about this Brooks Day thing?”
“I asked you if you wanted to do it, and you said yes,” Mary reminded him, as Tripp then just shrugged.
Mary opened the front door, and she immediately spotted Cindy. Cindy was dressed down today. Her hair was no longer curled but was tied up in a tight, messy bun. She was dressed in bootcut jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Mary saw her standing behind her car, and she poked her head around and smiled. “Hey, Mary!” Cindy called, and Mary noted that despite dressing comfortably, the woman had still put on her bright, red lipstick. “We’re coming.”
Mary was just about to ask what was taking so long when a girl appeared from behind the car, rolling herself in a wheelchair. Tripp jolted a bit beside Mary, and Mary promptly stomped his foot as a warning not to act so stunned and uncomfortable. He glared at Mary for a moment before putting on a smile. “What’s up!” the girl in the chair called, pushing herself up the steep incline that was Mary’s driveway with very little effort. “You must be Mary and Tripp, right?” she asked.
She was very cute. Much like her mother, Hannah had dark hair – though her eyes were a sparkling blue. There were youthful freckles all over her nose and cheeks that made her seem almost precious—though the seriousness in her gaze seemed to almost contradict the look. “Yeah, that’s us,” Tripp said, and Mary could tell he was looking at the steps leading up to the porch.
Cindy and Hannah wasted no time. Hannah seemed to almost shove her own chair back for Cindy to catch to force up the stairs; the transition happened so smoothly that Mary didn’t even have time to ask if they needed help getting Hannah’s chair up onto the porch. “Easy, Mom,” Hannah said when Cindy slammed the wheels down a bit too hard at the top of the porch.
“Sorry, hon,” Cindy said and then perked up at Mary. “So, we going to bake or what?”
“Of course,” Mary said, inviting them all inside.
They headed into the kitchen, and Cindy ooed and awed at the place. “I love this open floor plan,” she said. “I would have liked something like this when Hannah was little. You can see straight into the living room.”
“So, where are you going to be going to school?” Hannah asked. “I go to Whitewater.”
Tripp shrugged. “Do you know, Grandma?”
“You’re zoned through the school district for Whitewater too,” Mary informed Tripp.
“Sweet,” Hannah said and then looked from Mary to Tripp. “Wait, are you his grandmother? Dang, you do not look that old.”
“Hannah!” Cindy scorned. “Seriously?”
Mary laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Your folks live around here?” Hannah asked.
“No,” Tripp said.
Hannah glanced at Tripp curiously. “Where are they at?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Tripp huffed.
“Hannah, that’s enough,” Cindy said.
“Don’t be rude, Tripp,” Mary said.
Tripp practically growled in response. “It’s none of her business, Mary.” Hannah rolled her wheelchair forward, and she went right over Tripp’s foot.
“Oww! What’s wrong with you?” Tripp snapped.
“My legs don’t work – what’s wrong with you?” Hannah said matter-of-factly, and the comment took Tripp really off guard, leaving him tongue-tied.
“Hannah!” Cindy wailed, looking very embarrassed.
“What? He’s the one being all rude,” Hannah said. “Who calls their grandmother by their first name?”
“They’re from LA,” Cindy said, and Mary was confused for a moment as to why this should be an explanation. Evidently people in Georgia all thought people in California were innately rude to their elders.
“It’s all right, Hannah,” Mary said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“All right?” Tripp questioned. “She ran over my foot on purpose!”
“Prove it,” Hannah retorted.
“How about we start baking?” Cindy said, putting her hand to her forehead as though her daughter’s behavior was going to make her pass out.
“I should just go upstairs and get out of your way,” Tripp said.
“I have a better idea,” Mary said. “Why don’t you and Hannah go into the living room and get started on folding the dessert boxes and putting the stickers I printed on top?”
Tripp looked at Hannah hesitantly before conceding to this plan, and soon the two high-strung teenagers were out of Mary and Cindy’s hair. “I am so sorry about that,” Cindy muttered quietly as they got to work on desserts. “I don’t know what got into her.”
“It’s fine,” Mary said. “I think I might just be used to Tripp’s attitude. I’m kind of glad she called him out on it.”
Cindy smirked. “Hannah will do that.”
“Good,” Mary said. “I hope she’ll stick around and do it more often for me.”
As they got to work on some various recipes, their conversation took a rather natural flow towards the teenagers whom they could hear occasionally snipping at each other in the other room. “Do you mind me asking what happened to his father exactly?” Cindy asked.
Mary nodded. “It was a home robbery,” she said. “Robber shot him.”
“Oh my goodness,” Cindy said. “Was Tripp home?”
“Yes. He was upstairs at the time. The robber ran off after he shot Aaron… Tripp’s father,” Mary explained. “Tripp ran downstairs and found his dad who was already dead, I’m afraid.”
“That’s just awful,” Cindy replied. “Were he and his father close?”
“Best friends,” Mary said.
“And his mother?”
Mary sighed. “I have no idea, honestly. My daughter, who was practically a baby when she gave birth to Tripp, got into drugs a year or so after he was born. Aaron tried to help her get clean, and so did I. But she didn’t want to help herself. Aaron left her, got full custody of Tripp, and then refused her any visitation. I hate to say it because she’s my daughter, but Aaron did the right thing by keeping him away from her. Since I was still trying to help her get clean, he cut me out too. Truthfully, Tripp doesn’t even really know me. Phone calls on his birthday was about the extent of our relationship. His father would send me pictures sometimes, but he was always worried about him coming to see me in case his mother showed up. He wanted to keep him away from her, and I understand… but Tripp…”
“Tripp is here stuck with a grandparent he hardly knows isn’t he?” Cindy questioned. “I’m so sorry, Mary.”
“It is what it is,” Mary said, finding it odd how easy it was unloading all this heavy information on Cindy. “You’re very easy to talk to, you know?”
Cindy smiled. “It’s a gift of mine, I think. I think I missed my calling as a counselor sometimes. So, when is the last you heard from your daughter?”
“It’s been years,” Mary said. “Aaron had reached out to me recently, and I had been coming around a bit more, trying to get to know my grandson, so at least Tripp sort of knew me. But that was very recent. Aaron was killed less than a year ago. It’s still a pretty fresh wound for him.”
The oven dinged. Mary had already put in the chocolate chip and pecan cookies, as well as some rainbow cake. Everyone sampled the treats before putting them into the dessert boxes. The rainbow cake turned out to be the biggest hit amongst the group of taste testers. And, much to Mary’s pleasure, Tripp told her he really loved the cookies.
Chapter Four
“Okay, I think that’s everything,” Mary said as she closed the back of the Ford Escape, feeling a bit accomplished after the immaculate amount of boxes were at last all tucked away. “Got the table… tablecloth… portable cooler storage… the tent…” she muttered to herself her mental checklist of everything that they would need. It wasn’t as though they had a long drive to the ballfield. It took her less than five minutes to get to the shop from their home, and the ballfield was right across the road and down a steep hill from the shop.
