by Becki Willis
“I would think starting a business would take money, as well,” Madison remarked, more to herself than to her grandmother. As she wiped down the table, she recalled the conversation between Myrna and Barry Redmond. Something about a loan that Dean was unaware of. She idly wondered if Myrna had borrowed money to start her business. A business intended to pay off other borrowed money.
She clicked her tongue. “Always a mad cycle,” she muttered.
“What was that?” Granny Bert asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just realized how late it is. I’d better hurry or I’ll be late for church.”
“Want some?” her grandmother offered, pouring her smoothie into a glass and taking a big gulp.
The mixture looked disgusting. Madison shook her head and backed away. “No, but I hope it makes you feel better.”
As a cramp hit her stomach, her grandmother flinched. “I just hope it works soon.”
***
“Thanks, Cutter,” Madison said as the young fire chief ushered her into the station. Housed in the old cotton gin, the station was large and drafty. Their voices echoed through the towering space.
“No problem. I’m not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for, but you’re welcome to look through the files. My office is back here.”
They stepped into a spacious but sparse office. Filing cabinets flanked one wall, a worn couch rested against another, and a long table occupied a third, its surface scattered with handheld equipment, two-way radios, and assorted paraphernalia. Most of the walls were bare metal, but one sported Sheetrock and paint. Maps and charts covered the wall, vying for space with framed awards and diplomas. Bulletin boards brimmed with newspaper clippings, handwritten thank you notes, photographs, and participation ribbons for various chili cook-offs and barbecue contests. Madison noted that most of the ribbons were either blue or red.
In the center of the room was a large messy desk and a couple of chairs. Cutter took the chair behind the desk and rifled through a bottom drawer. “It might take me a few minutes to locate all the files.”
“Today was the first day of school. As long as I’m done in time to pick the kids up after practice and hear how their day went, I’m good.”
“First football game is Friday night, huh?” She could hear the hum of excitement in his voice.
If Madison had forgotten what Friday nights were like in small towns, she had been quickly reminded. People here lived and breathed for high school football. Each week, the storefronts around town blasted the current rival and vowed eternal loyalty to the Fighting Cotton Kings of The Sisters High. On Friday afternoons, half the town attended the pep rally at school. By evening, the bleachers at the football field were always packed. Those who could not attend the game waited at home to hear the final score. A few may have joined the Space Age and kept up with scores via the internet, but Madison knew most depended on the after-news sports program on television or their favorite radio recap to keep up with local teams. On Saturday mornings, the game was rehashed in detail. Referees were either scorned or praised; scores were either celebrated or best forgotten. And on Monday, it all started over again.
“That’s right,” she nodded. “Personally, I think it’s too hot for those kids to be out there in full uniform, but nobody asked me.” She crinkled her nose before her expression turned melancholy. “I can’t believe I’ll be there watching both my babies.” Even though her son favored baseball, Blake’s athletic prowess secured him a spot on the varsity football team. Bethani was a cheerleader.
“I hear Blake will be a running back.”
“Yes, I think that’s right. Did you play in high school?”
“I’m Tug Montgomery’s son. What do you think?” Cutter smirked.
“You played.”
“All four years. But my favorite sport was rodeo.”
“I played basketball.”
“I can see that. You have the height for it. What about Genny? Did she play?”
“Genny was the cheerleader.”
Cutter’s hazel eyes sparkled. “I can see that, too.” He turned his attention back to the files and plopped a heavy folder onto the desk.
“Is that all of them?”
Cutter’s laugh was dry. “That’s only for this year. The rest are in those filing cabinets. You needed to go back… what, five years?”
“Yes.”
He pushed away from his desk and crossed to the filing cabinets. After jerking open several drawers and extracting numerous folders, he gave Maddy a sympathetic smile.
“I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but here you go.”
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for, either, but maybe something will jump out at me.”
“Good luck.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The birthday party for Mary Alice Montgomery was that evening. Normally, Tuesday nights were not busy at the café. But most Tuesday nights did not include twenty-eight members of the Montgomery family.
With tables lined end to end, Genny decorated the party with rustic elegance. She fashioned centerpieces from mason jars, flickering candles, bits of burlap and raffia, and trailing ivy. Set upon white cloths, the look was full of shabby chic charm.
By the time Tug arrived with the guest of honor, the rest of the party was seated and waiting. The former local beauty queen and one-time contestant in the Miss Texas Pageant was so touched by the surprise party that she broke down in tears.
While Genny and her staff bustled around to serve the guests, she caught bits and pieces of their conversations. A half dozen topics floated around the table. Mary Alice traveled down memory lane, with Tug and some of their children adding favorite stories of their own. Football stats blended into a lively discussion over the newest X-Box game. One end of the table discussed cows and hay, while the other end exchanged ideas seen on Pinterest. Someone else was planning a trip to Paris, while further down the table the topic was deer season.
It must be nice, Genny thought as she circled the table, to have a big family. As an only child, she had never had this. This was loud and confusing and at times chaotic, but it was nice, nonetheless. She knew some of Cutter’s family, but keeping up with all of them was a bit confusing. Doing the best she could, Genny concentrated more on service than conversation.
Fifteen minutes after the party started, an older gentleman walked through the door. Genny knew in an instance that it had to be Cutter’s grandfather.
Small, wiry, and whip-cord thin, Sticker Pierce was the epitome of a rodeo cowboy. Just like in all the old westerns, his legs were bowed and bent from too many years spent in the saddle. A pair of well-worn jeans encased his legs and disappeared into boots that came high on his calf. Genny noted the fancy stitchery along the red leather uppers and the flowing red initials embroidered onto the pocket of his shirt. Above the biggest belt buckle she had ever seen, his pearl-snap western shirt was starched and neat, and a match to the shirt Cutter wore. With a full head of hair, its color long since faded away, and a snow-white handlebar mustache, Sticker Pierce was still a handsome man. Leathered and tan, he was an older and more wrinkled version of Cutter.
When Mary Alice saw her father, she flew to her feet. “Daddy? Daddy, is that you?”
Genny had been away from the South for several years, but it never stuck her as odd that a sixty-year-old woman still referred to her father as ‘Daddy.’ Most men could be fathers. Only the special ones could forever be a daddy.
After hugs and kisses all around, Sticker Montgomery settled in and the meal began. When Genny delivered a plate to the older gentleman, he eyed her with hazel eyes still clear and sharp.
“And who is this beautiful little thing?” he chuckled.
“That’s Cutter’s friend, and she owns this place.” Cutter’s sister Constance spoke loud enough that her grandfather—and everyone else in the restaurant—could hear. “Genesis, this is our grandfather, Sticker Pierce. Sticker, Genesis Baker.”
“Pleased to meet you, little
lady,” he said, taking her hand and brushing it with a kiss. His eyes sought his grandson and he winked. “Good job, boy.”
“Oh, we’re not—” Genny protested, but her words were swept away when one of the children overturned his drink. She rushed to clean up the mess, forgetting to explain their relationship.
“Genesis, where is your plate?” Mary Alice asked after grace was said and everyone began to eat.
“Oh, I’m not—”
Again, her protest was lost in a sea of murmurs. Chairs scooted and people shifted.
“Seriously, I can’t join you.”
“Of course you can! Sit down, right here!” This came from Cooper’s wife, Briana. Not only was she a regular at the café, Genny had gone to high school with her. “That way I can talk you into giving me this recipe. It is delicious.”
With everyone chanting “Sit! Sit! Sit!” Genny reluctantly did so. She was soon caught up in all the camaraderie and all the noise that was the Montgomery family. She enjoyed visiting with Cutter’s brothers and sisters and hearing their family stories. Sticker, particularly, was a gifted storyteller.
“Your grandfather is a hoot,” she told Cutter at one point. “Where has he been all these years?”
“Riding the circuit.”
“Still? He must be at least seventy-five! He doesn’t look it, but since your mom is sixty…”
“He’s almost seventy-eight. When he got too old to ride the stock, he started providing it. The Blazing P Brand is highly regarded in the rodeo world as having some of the best stock in the business.”
“Where does he live? When he’s not on the circuit, I mean.”
Cutter shrugged. “He has ranches in Colorado, Montana, Oklahoma, and Texas. He roams between them.”
Genny had to frown. “That seems rather sad, not having one special place to call home. What about your grandmother? Is she still living?”
“She passed away several years ago, but they haven’t been married since my mom was little. There have been several wives since then, a few of which I can’t even remember.”
Genny looked across the table to the vibrant man engaged in a lively conversation with his son-in-law. He seemed to be of good health and sound mind, but she wondered what sort of shape his heart was in; not his ticker, but his heart. Leading a free and nomadic lifestyle might sound fun and exciting, but it had to be lonely.
“That’s too bad,” she murmured. “He’s such a charming man.” A glance around the table revealed that everyone was through eating. “Oops. Looks like it’s time for dessert.”
“This tira-mousse better be as good as you promised, or you’ll owe me big time. I’m thinking apple turnovers for the rest of my life.”
“It’s tiramisu, and have no worry. You will love it.” She gave him a playful tap on the nose as a reprimand.
His nephew saw the exchange and teased him about it. “Aw, Uncle Cutter is in trouble!”
Genny disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she and two members of her staff returned, pushing a cart filled with individual dishes of the decadent tiramisu. Mary Alice’s portion sat in a pedestal dish and boasted six slender candles pushed into the creamy layers.
As the family sang Happy Birthday, Genny and her staff quickly distributed the other desserts. A second cart rolled out, carrying plates piled high with cannoli, freshly brewed coffee, and cold milk. As Genny placed the cannoli randomly along the tables, she watched people’s reactions to the tiramisu.
She watched Cutter as he took his first bite. After a skeptical perusal of the dessert, poking it a few times with his fork and disturbing the chocolate shavings sprinkled on top, he hesitantly slid the first bite into his mouth. Genny knew the moment the flavors hit his taste buds. A look of surprise crossed his handsome face, followed closely by pleasure. As he lifted a second forkful to his mouth, his eyes found hers. A slow smile slid across his face, reflected in his eyes, as he tipped his fork in silent salute.
That look, Genny thought happily. It was what made the job worth it. Every chef, every cook, strived to bring that unique pleasure to their epicure. It made all the hard work of preparing a dish worthwhile.
She looked around for reaction from the others. Tug’s dessert had all but disappeared. Mary Alice had her eyes closed as she savored the distinct flavors swirled within the many layers. Constance and sister-in-law Penny oohed as they held their dishes to the light, examining the dessert as if to discover its magical formula. A few of the children were more impressed with the cannoli rolls—some filled with sprinkles, some with fruit mixtures, some dipped in chocolate, some left plain—than with the tiramisu, but the adults were enthralled. Even Sticker looked impressed.
As the end of the evening drew near, Mary Alice stood and thanked her guests for coming and for sharing her special day. She extended a particularly warm thankyou to Genesis.
“It has been my pleasure,” Genny assured her with a genuine smile.
Tug caught her eye and winked in approval. Before the party broke up, all four sons and one grandson had done the same.
Genny threw back her head in delight, her dimples deepening and her eyes twinkling. The entire Montgomery family was thoroughly enchanting. And the men were lady killers, right down to the toddlers.
She collected hugs as they filed out the doors. Cutter was one of the last to shuffle past.
“Genny darlin’, what can I say? You outdid yourself tonight. Thank you.” He gave her a warm hug.
“Kiss her, Uncle Cutter,” little Houston insisted from behind him. “Grand Tug did, and so did Sticker.”
Genny grinned at Cutter, tapping her cheek. “Sure did,” she confirmed with twinkling eyes.
“I can do better than that,” he mumbled. Before she realized what he intended, Cutter swooped in and brushed a kiss onto her lips. It was quick and light, but Genny was not immune to the magic. It felt like stardust had fallen around her.
His voice was a low rumble against her lips. “Good night, Genny darlin’. And thanks again. Just like you, the party was perfect.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was a big day for the Reynolds family. A big day for HOME television network. And, being that the townspeople took such a personal interest and pride in their small part in the success of Home Again: Starting Over, it was a big day for The Sisters.
Today, they were filming their first ‘reveal’ episode for the show. One room was officially complete.
Television cameras shadowed Madison, Bethani and Blake up the cobblestone walkway. Amanda coached them on what not to wear—nothing solid brown or solid beige, nothing red or orange, nothing too matchy-matchy, nothing too flashy.
“I’m nervous,” Bethani confided.
“Me, too, honey,” Madison admitted. “Kiki banned me from the house last week and hasn’t allowed me back in until now.”
“It’s more like an excited nervous, you know? It means we’re getting closer to having the rest of it done. Closer to moving in.”
“It finally feels real,” Blake agreed with his sister.
It had been a long five months, with one more yet to come. The projected finish date was mid-October. There was still so much to do, and most of the rooms still looked like a disaster zone.
The exterior of the house was complete. After years of neglect, the grand old lady now sported a fresh coat of paint. The pale gray had been the right choice, Madison noted with satisfaction. Traditional yet modern. Excessive amounts of gingerbread trim, painted a few shades off from purest white, added distinction and grace. Cranberry accents provided the pop.
The grounds were groomed and restored to their former glory. Even the cobblestone walkway they traveled upon had received a makeover. All around them, the grass was lush and green, the flowerbeds brimming with color.
Madison knew a moment of panic as she gazed over the massive showpiece. She had never had a lawn this size before. The house stood upon a full city block; how would she ever manage all this?
She th
ought of the starter home she and Gray bought when they first married, and the time they had devoted to the yard there, cultivating it into a modest but eye-pleasing refuge. She had taken such pride in the flowerbeds and hedges, and in the pear tree out front. In the summertime, the tree’s low-hanging limbs offered challenge and adventure for the twins and their neighborhood friends. Each fall, it offered up delicious bounty that she turned into cakes and jam. Madison had loved that tree. When they moved into their grand new house, the one they could little afford but that Gray and his mother insisted they must buy, she had missed the tree almost as much as she missed the house itself.
Their house in the new up-and-coming neighborhood came with a much larger lawn and a much grander presence. It also came with a gardener, so her efforts at gardening were no longer needed, nor welcomed. Despite the fancy neighborhood and the fancy yard, there was nothing about the house that Madison missed. Nothing she mourned. Not like she mourned her beloved pear tree.
The consolation was that now Madison had plenty of trees. Giant, old, mature trees, the kind with billowing arms and thick, massive trunks. The kind not found in fancy new subdivisions, no matter how up-and-coming they might be. These trees had roots. The kind Madison craved for her and her children.
“Look, there’s my sign,” Madison pointed. “It will direct clients to the side porch for In a Pinch.”
Blake offered his arm to his mother and mimicked a bow. “Shall we, my ladies?” he asked in a formal voice.
“I think we shall.” Madison’s nervous reply floated out as a giggle.
Nick waited for them by the French doors.
“Are you ready for this?” he smiled in welcome.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He went through a spiel that none of them heard. He talked about the age and condition of the house when he first saw it, spoke to some of the improvements made, mentioned the generosity of their fine sponsors. And finally, he swung open the doors.
