by Leah Atwood
“I haven’t heard a single person say anything bad against you. In fact, I’ve only heard well-wishes and a desire for you to return.”
She found that hard to believe, but didn’t say so in an effort to maintain the pleasant tone. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Seven
Valentine’s Day. A completely made up, commercial holiday. He’d never cared much about the day one way or another, had only celebrated it in the past when he had a girlfriend to keep happy.
So why am I agitated and depressed today over being single on this superficial day of love? I don’t even want a girlfriend.
He knew why—he’d made the mistake of scrolling through Facebook earlier. The overload of happy couple pictures didn’t bother him, nor all the sharing of what people received from their significant others.
One only post affected him. Ella, his most recent ex, sharing pictures of her engagement. He hadn’t known she’d been dating anyone, and his family must not have known either or they would have told him.
It had to be a case of wanting what he couldn’t have. They’d mutually agreed to break up. He admired her, respected her, and found her attractive, but in the end, he knew they didn’t have the connection required for a marriage. Maybe because her life had moved on and his hadn’t. He hadn’t dated since her, but in his defense, he hadn’t met anyone he wanted to go out with. He’d been focused on his job and giving that one hundred percent.
Maybe he needed a break from it all. A weekend away or a trip home. He hadn’t taken any time off in the five months he’d been in Jasper Lake. That had to be it. His gloom had nothing to do with Valentine’s Day or Ella’s engagement, but they happened to fall on the day he finally hit the brink of exhaustion.
Feeling better, he pulled himself off the sofa where he’d been moping for the last hour. When he went to work tomorrow, he’d ask Pastor Gray about taking off for a few days to refresh and recharge. For now, he’d grab a bite to eat then watch a movie or go to bed early.
What time is it? He checked his watch and saw he had plenty of time to make it to the diner and eat dinner out. A man could only subsist on sandwiches for so long. He cooked occasionally—his mom insisted all men must know how to make a handful of meals at a minimum, but cooking for one rarely made sense. Generally, he didn’t care for leftovers, although he’d lived off them his first month in Jasper Lake, but that’s because he’d had so many frozen meals from church members and he hadn’t wanted to waste them.
He put on a pair of socks and tennis shoes, then bundled in a coat and scarf. Right about now, he really missed his winters in South Carolina. Perhaps by spring he’d figure out the logistics of wearing a bulky coat while buckled in a car. Thank goodness he rarely drove more than ten minutes at a time because he found driving while bundled uncomfortable and stifling, yet if he drove without a coat, he stayed cold.
An eerie quiet hung over the town. He figured most people had gone to Farthington or elsewhere with romantic options for dining. When he pulled into the parking lot of Tippy’s Diner, only three cars occupied spaces. He parked close to the door and went inside.
He had his choice of places to sit and chose a table near the counter. While waiting for a menu, he looked around the restaurant. An elderly couple sat in a booth by a window, smiling at each other and sharing a slice of pie. At their age, they’d probably seen plenty of Valentine’s Days, and didn’t need a fancy restaurant to celebrate their love. That’s a relationship goal I’d like to reach.
“Elijah? I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” Trixie placed a menu in front of him.
“It was a last minute decision.” He looked up at her. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I started three weeks ago.”
“That’s great. I guess you were off the other times I’ve stopped in.”
“Probably.” She pulled an order pad from her apron pocket. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Sprite.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He glanced at the menu and didn’t see a paper listing the specials. When she returned with his drink, he asked, “What’s good tonight?”
“We have a hamburger steak with mushroom gravy that comes with a roll and two sides. It’s been popular with the locals, and we also have chicken parmigiana. I’ve not heard as many good things about that, although it smells good.”
“I’ll have the hamburger steak with mashed potatoes and peas.”
“It’ll be right out.”
She walked away, leaving him to gauge her reaction to him. They hadn’t spoken since that day he’d stopped by her parents’ house, but he had seen her at church last week. Not that he expected them to be best pals after how he’d treated her, but he had thought they’d reached a point of friendliness between them.
True to her word, she brought his food out within minutes of taking his order. She offered a smile. “We’re slower than expected tonight and have lots of extra so they gave you larger portions.”
The savory aromas reached his nose and made him glance at the plate on impulse. Looks like he’d have leftovers again, but he wouldn’t complain. The food smelled delicious. “Give the cook my thanks.”
“I will.”
“Do you work until close?” His own question caught him off guard. It came out of the blue and didn’t fit into the flow of the conversation.
“No, you’re my last customer of the night. Hannah will take care of any customers that come in after.”
“I’ll try to hurry then.”
“Take your time.” She smiled again. “Alice will already be in bed when I get home, and I can use every last second on the time clock.”
“In that case, I’ll eat real slow, and maybe have dessert.”
She winked. “They baked a fresh batch of bread pudding this afternoon.”
“As I said earlier, the only dessert I can’t resist.”
“I’d save you a piece,” she gave a pointed stare around the dining room, “but I don’t see a mad rush coming to take it all.”
“Funny.”
“I’ll leave you to eat, but if you need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks.”
He cut a piece of meat and stabbed it with a fork. The chopped texture allowed gravy to seep through and keep it from drying out. This was his ultimate comfort food, the meal he most requested from his mom. It made him a little homesick. Before the gloom from earlier could pop its way back into his mood, he focused on enjoying the food in front of him.
The elderly couple left, and the man held the door open for his wife who walked in short, shuffling steps. A group of teens came in after them, but he didn’t recognize any of them. They sat in a far booth by the window.
Their entire order consisted of three large orders of chili cheese fries and large sodas all around. He suddenly felt old when he estimated the calories their meal consisted of. His wasn’t much better, but at least it was well rounded. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. On that note, he stuck another forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
If he wanted that bread pudding, he’d have to stop. He took one more bite and washed it down with the last of his Spite. Trixie came to check on him and he asked for a box.
“Still want the bread pudding?”
“Of course.” He grinned. “That’s why I had to stop with the main meal.”
“Can’t blame you for that.” She cleared his plate from the table. “I’ll box it up for you and keep it under the heater until you’re ready to leave.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” He noticed the tired lines under her eyes and that her step lacked a bounce. His heart went out to her. Waiting tables wasn’t easy work—he’d done it for two years during college and he didn’t have a child to take care of as well.
She came back with a bowl in hand. “I had to brew another pot of coffee, but here’s your dessert in the meantime.”
“Can you join me for a while?” He didn’t know where the
offer came from, other than he saw her exhaustion and need to relax.
“I’m still on the clock.” Her gaze darted around the room as though looking for an excuse but found none.
He followed her gaze and grinned. “I know, I know, you have so many customers to take care of.”
She cracked a smile, but then her eyes turned suspicious. “Why?”
“I’m bored, you look like you could use a break, and I’d like to hear how Lara’s doing. Take your pick.”
The suspicion evaporated. “I’d be insulted that you said I need a break, but I’ve seen myself in a mirror.”
“You look fine, just tired.” He kicked himself under the table for not thinking about how he’d said it.
“It’s fine, really. But I did want to talk to you about Lara.” She tilted her chin in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll ask my manager if it’s okay when I go to get your coffee.”
While he waited for her, he wondered what he’d been thinking. They hardly knew each other, and she barely tolerated him, at least that’s the vibe he got. What if someone walked in and saw them sitting together? What would they think? He didn’t want to cause her any further trouble with false rumors and gossip.
What should he do? He couldn’t very well rescind the invitation without looking like an idiot or hurting her feelings. Maybe her boss would say no. He’d never been impulsive. Why would he start now?
Two minutes passed before she came out, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and another piece of bread pudding. “My manager said it’s fine since I worked through my break earlier, as long as I don’t stay on the clock sitting down for more than a half hour.”
So much for option B. He’d made the offer and would make the best of it, pray no one came in that they knew. “Great.”
She set his coffee down in front of him and laid a bowl of creamers and sugar next to it. Before sitting down, she put her items across the table from him and set the tray on the counter. “I should eat something more substantial since I haven’t eaten dinner, but my sweet tooth said otherwise.”
“You’ll get no judgment from me.” He wagged his brows, playing on their past.
Her laughter rang out, and it soothed his soul, showed she’d truly forgiven him.
He forked a square of bread pudding and ran it through the vanilla sauce. “Is Alice with a babysitter?”
“My mom watches her while I work. She’s a lifesaver and won’t charge a dime which helps me save more to put toward an apartment of my own.”
“That’s great. Sounds like life is coming together again for you.”
“It is, thanks to my family. One day, I’d like to get back into college, but for now I’ll settle for getting out on my own, but still near my family.”
He finished chewing. “How are the talks with Lara going?”
“Really well. She’s still scared, understandably so, but is beginning to realize this isn’t a life sentence, not in the way she saw it. Her life will change, but it doesn’t have to be for the bad.” She poured a container of creamer into her coffee and stirred it. “I shared my story, how fear can cause more bad decisions; and told her I ran because I was scared, but wished I hadn’t. She’s very fortunate to have a family who will support her and help her with the baby.”
“Any update on her and Aiden?” He laid down his fork and frowned. “Neither he, nor his parents will answer my calls, and I haven’t seen Aiden in two weeks. I’m worried his parents are going back on what they told me.”
Trixie dropped her gaze to her plate. “Aiden and Lara broke up two weeks ago.”
“What?” His mouth gaped. He hadn’t seen that coming.
“According to Lara, the stress got to be too much for Aiden, and he ended their relationship.” She looked at him with a glint of sadness. “Lara’s devastated. She thought they’d be together forever.”
“Young love.” He sighed, disappointed in the news. “Do you think the break up is final?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. If I had my guess, I’d say no, but Lara needs someone to stand strong beside her, not a guy who will bail when life gets tough.”
“I agree, but they are young. Sadly, statistics prove the chances of them staying together are slim, even under the best of conditions.”
“Time will tell.”
“Are they still speaking at all? He’s not planning on abandoning the baby, is he?”
“Lara hasn’t said. She’s heartbroken over the breakup and having trouble focusing on anything else.”
His chest tightened with anger. Aiden might be young, but he was old enough to take responsibility. “I’ll call him and see if I can get some answers. I should have known something was up, and gotten in touch with him when he stopped coming again.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You have over forty youth to keep track of.”
“Thanks, but considering his circumstances, I should have stayed on top of him.”
“I’ll call Lara when I get home. Today’s rough, I’m sure, since it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Such a ridiculous holiday.” The comment slipped out, and he rolled his eyes automatically.
She laughed, spitting out crumbs. She grabbed a napkin and covered her mouth, swallowing before speaking. “For some reason, I took you for the type who loves Valentine’s Day and goes all out for it.”
He scrunched his nose and twisted his lips. “Nope. I only ever celebrated it to keep the peace in my relationships.”
“I get the idea behind it, but I’m with you. If someone wiped the holiday off the calendar, I wouldn’t be upset.” Her eyes twinkled. “However, I’ll admit, I bought Alice a cute outfit for the day. My one splurge from my first check.”
“Hey, there’s never a wrong day to show your child love.”
“Exactly.” She flashed a broad smile, then glanced at the old analog clock above the counter. “My time’s up.”
“Already? That half hour went quick.”
“It did. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks.” She stood up and collected the dishes, placing them on the tray. “This job is a huge blessing, but it’s exhausting. I didn’t realize how much I needed to sit for a few minutes and relax.”
“You’re welcome. The company sure beat eating alone again.” She smiled as she tore his bill off her pad and laid it on the table. They said their goodbyes and he watched her walk away and disappear into the kitchen.
Tonight had turned out better than he thought. He realized his melancholy from earlier had lifted, and his shoulders felt lighter.
He took out several bills from his wallet, leaving a generous tip that amounted to more than his tab. He prayed she’d accept it in the spirit it was meant—a compliment for good service and a token of gratitude for her willingness to move past their poor beginning.
Chapter Eight
Trixie taped another purple kitten to the wall of the fellowship hall, adding it to the twenty that had already been hung. Balloons floated from the tables and chairs, and a huge banner stretched across the double doors, greeting every person who walked through them with Alice’s birthday greeting.
Her little girl was one. It didn’t seem possible that twelve months had flown by already. At the same time, so much had changed that it felt like years. Her lonely life estranged from her family was only a memory now, but one she’d never forget—she’d experienced too much pain to waste those lessons learned.
She finished with the wall decorations and went to the kitchen to check on the food.
Phoebe stirred a large potful of barbeque meatballs. “Did you want to keep these here and let people serve themselves or dish them into a bowl?”
“What did Mom say?”
“Nothing except to stir occasionally.”
“Let’s put them in a bowl if there’s one available.” She searched the cabinets for a bowl and found one on the third try.
Using a ladle, Phoebe transferred them. “I can’t wait to see Alice’s reaction to her c
ake and gifts.”
“Don’t be surprised if she’s more interested in the paper than the present.” She held the bowl while Phoebe poured in the remaining liquid. “Thank you for all your help. There’s no way I would have been able to give Alice a party like this on my own.”
“It’s not every day my first niece turns one.” Phoebe stuck the pot in the sink and ran water into it. “Mom took care of most the arrangements, and a few of the ladies from church helped.”
Trixie fought against the emotions overwhelming her. They’d never know how much this meant to her. She’d struggled to return to church, even with Elijah’s apology, but she’d faced little opposition—only several snide comments, but the kindness of others far outweighed those. “Where is Mom?”
“Last I saw, on her way outside to bring the presents in.”
“How many did she buy?”
Phoebe laughed as she moved the bowl of meatballs to the serving counter. “You know Mom. I don’t know how exactly, but I’m sure it’s more than any one-year-old needs.”
“Yes, I know.” Trixie joined her sister in laughter, but inside her heart broke.
She didn’t begrudge the gifts, was even thankful her family had readily accepted Alice and wanted to spoil her. Despite that, she couldn’t ignore the guilt that pulled her heart in all directions. She was the mom. She should be the one to shower her daughter with gifts, but all she’d been able to afford was a wooden puzzle set with barnyard animals and a matching book.
Pride nipped at her, taunted her until she wanted to grab her wrapped gift and hide it away. She didn’t want Alice to see pictures of the party years from now and think her mom didn’t care.
Why couldn’t she be happy? Kind gestures shouldn’t become fodder for her shame. She knew if she mentioned the problem to Mom, she’d be respectful and hold back the gifts, but that wasn’t a viable solution.
She’d have to suck it up and accept that she couldn’t give her daughter all she wished she could. Maybe in the future, if she noticed the lack of presents from her Mom, Alice would know that the single gift came with love and sacrifice. Or maybe she’d never notice or care. No sense borrowing trouble.
