“I didn’t ask a lot, you know.”
“I can’t drop everything every time you get another idea,” he said, thinking of the ten thousand and one things already on his plate.
“I see. I’ll just stay in my place and keep my ideas to myself. No problem.” Rose stared straight ahead, her shoulders vibrating with agitation.
“Come on, Rose. I can’t get done what I’ve already got to do. Does that make any sense? As soon as I have time, we’ll go see Sonja. I promise.”
“And you’ll keep an open mind?” she asked, still staring out the front window.
“Dammit, Rose. I said I’d consider it,” Adam said as he entered the Steakhouse parking lot.
Her head snapped around to look at Adam, her mouth grim and her hands clenched in her lap. Rose opened her mouth to speak then shut it again. She placed her hand on the door handle and yanked it open.
Adam knew he was being a jerk but didn’t seem to be able to stop himself. To make things worse, even in his own mind he sounded like Simon, the one person in the world he didn’t want to emulate.
Rose crawled out of Miss Cool while the car was still rolling forward. She strode toward the steakhouse door without a backward glance.
Adam pulled in a deep breath then followed her inside. Sometimes being an ass came naturally to him. Even though he’d witnessed the master asshole at work for so many years, and had promised himself to never go there, sometimes assholeness just claimed him.
With Gramma in the room, Adam and Rose tried hard to be polite. The last thing they needed was to bring their spat into the work place, and by the exaggerated politeness Rose exhibited, she agreed.
“Adam, Rose, this is my gramma, Luella.” Mara stood with her arm linked in her grandmother’s. Despite the age difference, the resemblance was remarkable.
“It’s nice to meet you, Luella. I’ve got to tell you, your fried ice cream is amazing,” Rose said. She put her arm around Mara and gave her a little hug. She held out her hand to shake Luella’s but was pulled into a hug by the older woman.
“Call me Gramma. Everyone does, you know. Mara’s told me all about you.” She turned and stepped forward. “And you must be Rose’s cowboy, Adam.”
Adam shook her extended hand and motioned for her to sit in the nearest booth. He was pretty sure Rose wouldn’t agree with that title right now.
“My husband rode saddle broncs years and years ago. In my younger days, I had a weakness for rodeo cowboys.” Gramma slid into the booth then turned her gaze on Rose. “They’re the only real men left, if you ask me.”
Rose flushed pink, and Mara giggled while Adam stared at his feet. What was he supposed to say to that? He pushed the conversation back to business. “Has Mara explained what is going on? I want to be sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“She’s told me bits and pieces. Why don’t you explain your plans, and how I fit into them?” Luella’s expression and voice were soft, but Adam guessed she was tougher than she looked.
When he’d finished explaining the situation, Gramma told him she wanted to take a shot at becoming the new chef. “A person’s got to keep herself busy or the mind goes, you know.”
With preliminary menu items including the finest steak and fresh seafood chosen, Adam left it to Rose, Mara and Gramma to round out what would be served at the new and improved Steakhouse.
Gramma had her specialties, comfort food like homemade chicken and noodles and macaroni and cheese, fresh made rolls plus a bevy of desserts. She had many old tried-and-true recipes but wasn't afraid to experiment with something new. Her tattered binder held the truly great recipes she’d kept from years of cooking for family and friends.
Rose cleared her throat then spoke. “Since we are making a clean sweep of this place, let’s start from the beginning. We need to get their attention. Why don’t we change the name to Gramma's House--Steak, Seafood and Specialties? It shows we mean what we say when we advertise Under New Management.”
Adam wasn’t so sure a change of name was a good idea. When he voiced his opinion, Rose’s withering look reminded him he was already in trouble and wasn’t helping his case by arguing.
The three women loved the idea so he put his doubts aside. “I’ll contact a sign painter first thing tomorrow.” If nothing else, a new sign would improve the looks of the front of the restaurant.
A plan was coming together, for better or worse. With the restaurant as good as they could get it with the money they had, they flooded both Tullyville and Trinidad with advertising. With newspaper ads and the radio station running their spots all day and night, there wouldn’t be a soul in either town who wouldn’t be aware of Gramma’s House.
-#-
The interior of Lillian’s brand new BMW i3 sedan had the luxurious scent of new leather and every option she’d wanted and a couple she hadn’t known existed. Ownership brought a smile to her face as she parked across the street from the Steakhouse.
A brief twinge of unease stiffened her lungs. If she didn’t stop Adam and Rose, she’d have to give up her recent splurges. The car and the one carat cushion-cut solitaire diamond ring would have to go back. “No matter what, I’m not giving up my new wardrobe,” she said as she shook off her apprehension.
Curiosity about the Steakhouse was driving her crazy. She'd driven by the building every few days, just to keep her finger on their progress, and she couldn't believe the difference Adam had made in just a few weeks.
The restaurant’s walls were repainted a classic soft green, and the cedar shake roof washed clean of moss and spider webs. She’d watched while employees raked debris from the landscaping and picked up trash. She’d even seen the crazy girls from the motel planting rows of Azaleas along the walkway leading to the entrance. The exterior was now well lit and welcoming.
The grand reopening was in less than seventy-two hours, and if the remodeling of the interior was as good as the outside, Adam might be ready.
“But they’ll never overcome the ghastly reputation,” she murmured. “Probably.”
Lillian didn't know whether they could earn enough to put them in the black, and she didn't really care. She could take care of that later if necessary.
One thing she did know was that come hell or high water, she was going to get Adam to escort her to opening night.
She’d already bought the perfect outfit. He’d have to be made of stone to ignore her in her new little black dress.
-#-
Adam finally found a few minutes to stop by the garage and talk to Red. Although they’d had several phone conversations, he hadn't had time to go back since the first day. The station was making money now, thanks to Red, and getting more customers every week.
As Adam pulled up to the pumps, Tyler hustled out the door. “Hi, Mr. Cameron. Fill ‘er up?”
What a difference from last time he’d seen the boy. Dressed in a blue striped shirt with Red's Garage embroidered on the pocket and a ball cap, Tyler looked professional.
Within a few minutes, Red rolled out from beneath the car he’d been working on and motioned Adam into the automotive bay. He stood and wiped his hands on a rag.
“I looked over the information you sent,” Adam said as he shook Red’s hand. “The garage is doing great. I’ve got to say, you and Tyler have turned this place around. I wish all the other businesses were doing as well.”
“Well, we just do what we do. Aren't smart enough to do anything else,” Red said his voice tinged with a southern drawl.
“Sounds pretty smart to me,” Adam said. “Look who's running the only business making money right now.”
They discussed possible improvements and some ideas that Red had kicked around with Tyler. The kid wasn’t dumb. With a little encouragement, he was going to make one hell of a mechanic.
After a quick good-bye, Adam got back into his car and headed to Rose's house. Miss Cool's windshield was sparkling clean.
The garage was making money, and the restaurant was
on its way. The radio station was breaking even, but the motel and the flower store were so far from profitable they weren’t even in the same state. Story hour was helping Sonja, but it wouldn’t bring in enough money to keep her shop afloat long term.
The Rainbow Girls, as he'd started calling Stevie and Mickie, had mentioned a doctor. The girls implied some doctor could help bring customers to the motel. He just hadn’t figured out how.
The car bottomed out in a crater-sized pothole as Adam turned off the roadway onto the cracked asphalt of the motel parking lot. He stopped Miss Cool in the shade of the big Maple tree in front of the office.
As he stepped out, a small girl walking with her mother waved to him. Unseasonably warm March weather was bringing towns-people onto the streets.
The door to cottage three was ajar, and as he paused to look in, he saw the finished Tulip room. Soft pink walls edged with white trim, floral material used for the curtains and bedspreads and white French provincial furniture brought the room together. What a change from the tired, rundown units of a few weeks ago.
He moved next door and found the girls hard at work painting soft yellow on the walls.
Stevie’s hair was now a brilliant blue, and Mickie’s, the color of an electric sunbeam. As he took in their unusual hair, bright clothing and happy chatter, his attitude relaxed. Better get used to this, he thought. It was a part of his life now.
“We’re naming this one the Daffodil Room,” Stevie told her sister.
“Hi, girls.” He stepped in the door and leaned against the wall.
“Adam,” the girls cried in unison.
He smiled at their exuberant greeting then noticed their dismayed expressions.
“The paint’s still wet,” Stevie said as Mickie grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away from the molding.
Stevie brushed at the back of his T-shirt with a rag while Mickie stifled a laugh.
Adam twisted around then tugged at the shirt until he could see a pale splotch. “That’s going to leave a mark.” He started to pull it off then thought better of it. Wouldn’t be very professional to talk business shirtless.
“I need to ask you a question,” he said, rushing onto a new subject. “The first day I met you, you mentioned something about seeing a doctor to get more business. How would seeing a doctor help you find customers?
“Didn't you know?” Stevie said with a wicked grin. “Trinidad is the sex-change capital of the world.”
Although he heard the words, they didn’t register. This was a joke. He tried to gather his scattered wits, but they flew off like a covey of frightened quail. “Sex-change capital of the world?” He wouldn’t have been more befuddled if she’d told him Trinidad was peopled with aliens, and the twins were the supreme leaders.
“If you don’t believe her, Google it,” Mickie said. Her smile told him she was enjoying his confusion.
“I don’t own a computer. How about you just tell me?” Adam lifted the drop cloth off a corner of the bed and sat down.
“We’ve met a few people who came here for their sex change operations, and they told us about the harassment they’d endured. Our idea was to provide a home while they’re here. Somewhere they’d be welcome for as long as they needed to stay.” Mickie placed her paint roller into the tray and sat next to Adam.
“The average stay for a patient is at least six weeks,” Stevie said.
“Ideally, we’d like to put a small oven, microwave and fridge in each motel room, so it would be self-contained,” Mickie continued.
Adam’s gaze bounced from one twin to the other.
The only thing on his mind when he’d left all those years ago was getting away. He barely remembered hearing about some doctor, because at that time it was a subject not talked about in polite society. He’d been a young man wrapped up in his own problems and hadn't cared.
A shiver started in his shoulders and ran down his spine to his toes. Thinking about it now kind of gave him the creeps. “Doesn't it bother you that people want to do that to themselves?” he asked the twins.
“Why would it bother us?” Stevie said. “They can't help it. Do you think they go through all this trouble and hassle and pain for fun?”
“We think it’s wrong that other people make fun of them, and we'd like to help,” Mickie added, a stubborn slant to her mouth. “Besides, our friend had the operation. He was miserable as a woman. Now he's very happy with his life. How can you be against that?” She tilted her head and looked at him, a splotch of sunshine yellow paint smudged along her right cheek.
“It still seems . . .”Adam trailed off.
“You might know him,” Stevie said, interrupting him. “Red Granger at the Tullyville Garage.”
Turns out it was a good thing he was sitting down, because his jaw dropped so far he’d have to be careful not to step on it.
“You’re doing a great imitation of a trout,” Stevie said. The sound of laughter coming from the women caused him to snap his mouth shut.
Adam needed time to think and process the overload of information. He stood and walked toward the door, shaking his head. Looking over his shoulder, he started to speak. “Red? Nah. Really?”
The girls nodded like a choreographed dance team.
“I need a drink,” Adam said as he headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow . . . or the next day. Whenever my brain starts working again.”
The clock in the little red car said he’d been driving aimlessly for over two hours. The original feeling of shock and disbelief was wearing off and amazement took its place.
He began to see what the girls were getting at. If the doctor's office would agree to work with them and steer people their way, the motel could welcome patients and make them comfortable. They might even find someone to provide taxi service between the hospital in Trinidad and the motel in Tullyville. This could work.
Once he wrapped his brain around the concept, the ideas just kept coming. Sonja could expand the flower shop into a book and music store. It was only one block from the motel. The restaurant was also nearby and could provide takeout and delivery service.
At Red’s Garage, patients could find a place to get their cars fixed at a fair price. For people who had been harassed much their lives this would be a welcome relief. It might just work, and it might keep them in business.
For the first time, Adam saw a light at the end of the train track.
Chapter Ten
Tangled hanks of hair fell across Rose’s face, and she struggled to keep her eyes open as she stumbled into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Bright and sunny had never been her default, waking mode.
Moving to the couch, Adam lifted her legs and slid beneath them. Her soft skin caressed his palm as he ran his hand the length of her leg and back. It was getting harder and harder to imagine leaving Rose.
She rewarded him with a tiny smile.
He barely suppressed the overwhelming urge to grab her, wrap her in his arms and kiss her senseless. But business came first. "You're not going to believe what I found out today.”
Before he could continue, the doorbell rang. He glanced at Rose. “You expecting someone?”
“Sure, I invited all the neighbors over for a luau as soon as I climbed out of bed.” Her hand automatically went to her hair in a useless gesture. The left side stuck up at an odd angle, and she had blanket marks all along one cheek.
Adam shrugged and crossed the room. When he opened the door, Lillian waved at him from the small porch. Her bright smile and lime green mini-dress were a direct contrast to Rose’s gloominess.
What’s wrong with me? When did I start to prefer gloom?
“Adam, I’ve brought the rest of your grandfather’s wardrobe.” Lillian pointed to a large box on the stoop. “I sold the best to an antiques broker I’ve worked with before. I thought we could go to dinner and discuss the best way to move the remaining clothes.”
No doubt Lillian was beautiful, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t dumb
, so why did she ignore anything she didn’t want to hear?
He couldn’t believe she hadn’t taken his hints. Hell, he’d gone beyond hints. He'd told her straight up after her last veiled invitation that their relationship must remain on a professional level.
“Business, of course,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Rosie’s welcome to tag along.” She looked past him to Rose. "Unless she needs more beauty sleep." Lillian handed him a large box and pressed a check into his hand. Then she started to move around him into the house.
Shit, this couldn’t end well.
Since he’d left Tullyville as a young man, Adam made it a habit to avoid conflict at all costs. Up until the day he’d left home, his life had been one giant confrontation, squared. He sucked in a deep breath and stepped in front of Lillian. “Thanks for the clothes.”
She stopped, looked at him and smiled as she moved closer. “No problem. Clothes aren’t the only things I can help you with.” Lillian hadn’t taken her eyes off him. She was intent on something, slipping by him to enter or slipping up next to him to touch. Either one would be a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
Rose couldn’t have made her opinion more clear about this woman. She didn't trust Lillian as far as she could drop kick her, and that was a quote. As he was wavering, Rose came to his rescue.
She came up behind him, put her arm around his waist and looked up at Lillian.
“Come in, Lilly.” Her upturned face radiated innocence and something else.” Don’t leave our friend standing out on the porch, you silly boy.”
Adam’s sense of relief was short lived. He’d thought Rose was going to rescue him. But by the look in her eyes, Rose had her sights set on mayhem. This was not going to be good, and he was right between a Golden Gloves champ and a top contender, directly in the line of fire.
Rose stepped back pulling Adam with her.
Lillian looked confused but determined as she came through the door.
"I thought we could go to the Steakhouse and discuss ideas for remodeling. Rose is more than welcome, but we will be discussing business.” Her voice dripped with condescension. “It must be nice having an outgoing radio personality, so you can just have fun, instead of having a numbers-oriented mind."
Radio Rose (Change of Heart Cowboys Book 1) Page 15
