Sadness and longing wrapped around her until it was hard to breathe. She’d always thought of herself as a family person. She’d chosen not to move out of Little River Valley like most of her high school friends had done. Instead, she’d wanted to live close to her father and saw him several times a week. He was all she had, and she treated that bond with great care.
Since he’d died, she’d moved back into her childhood home because she’d inherited it. It felt so empty without him, which forced her to accept that she wasn’t meant to be alone. Yet she’d made no effort to reach out to new people and instead had drawn inward even though she’d always hated being an only child. Truth was, she felt stuck, like running in a dream getting nowhere, longing for something out of her reach.
As far back as she could remember, she’d thought something had been missing. As though they’d been meant to be a bigger family. When she would ask her parents why she didn’t have a sister or brother, they’d get all tongue-tied. Enough so that she’d learned to quit asking and, instead, worked on accepting that they’d simply run out of time. Yet there’d been a big hole in her heart, and she couldn’t deny it, long before Mom had died. As if something else had been ripped away, leaving a huge gap in her life.
What was with the gloomy black cloud hovering low tonight?
Slipping into the dumps certainly wasn’t how she wanted to end her day. Not on the eve of a new start! But her memories had been stirred at the wedding, and something deeper had gotten released. That person had called her Eva and told her she looked exactly like her. So strange. Truth was, when most kids created pretend pals, she’d had an imaginary sister named Jilly—even when Mom was alive, so Lacy couldn’t rationalize that it was because of losing a parent. For as long as she could remember, she’d wished for a sister, as if without one she could never be whole. Jilly helped fill that void until Lacy knew the time had come to grow up and leave her secret sister behind.
Then years later, on a group date, she’d met Greg and soon after had never felt more complete in her life.
Spurred on by the day’s events, old thoughts and new questions, she strode to the guest bedroom in the 1960s California ranch house, the room with the attic opening. Once there, after pulling down the door with a broomstick-length hook and unfolding the spring-operated ladder, she climbed up and switched on the dangling single lightbulb inside. Boxes and boxes of her parents’ papers were stored up there. Hopefully, someone had taken the time to label some of them.
Unable to see well in the dim light, she chose willy-nilly two boxes filled with papers and manila folders, and dropped first one and then the other through the attic opening. They landed with loud, reverberating thuds on the floor, leaving a small dust cloud in their wake. The first box brought her small calico Daisy Mae out of hiding from another room, and the second box sent the cat lunging back for cover.
“Sorry, sweetie!”
A muted meow assured Lacy her little girl cat was okay. Probably ticked off, but okay.
After lifting the first box onto one of the twin beds, she rifled through it, finding ten years of federal and state tax forms. If she had the time one night, she’d shred them all. Lifting the second box, she remembered she needed to defrost the assortment of homemade hand pies she’d premade and kept stored in her deep freezer in the garage...the same one her father had used for food truck supplies for over twenty years.
She really didn’t have time for this wild-goose chase. With all those pies to thaw tonight and bake in the morning, she’d have to get up early. She also needed to take inventory of her paper goods and plastic utensils tonight or she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. Everything had to be perfect tomorrow, because a potential long-term job offer depended on it.
Remembering the smiles on the faces of the construction crew on Friday when she’d handed out the pies and cups of coffee helped push that dark, dreary cloud away. Why drag up those old memories when all they did was bring her down? From now on she’d concentrate on the bright side of things. The future. Maybe that would bring her luck. She could use it.
She’d look through the second box another night. Besides, she had some making up to do with Daisy Mae, not to mention getting her beauty sleep. She wanted to look good when she officially started the construction job, which, in a perfect world, would lead to more interaction with the handsome Zackery Gardner.
One last check of her social media, where there were over a hundred likes. There were also a few comments in reply to her question about believing in everyone having a double. Most said yes. One person said something that made a lot of sense: We might think someone looks exactly like someone else until they stand side by side, then we’d see the difference.
Yes! Exactly. So logical. The woman at the wedding just thought Lacy looked like someone, but all she needed to do was have them stand side by side to realize how different they were. One last person Lacy didn’t know well said: I don’t think anyone could look exactly like me unless they were my twin.
The candid comment made Lacy scoff. Right. Then the hair stood on her arms again.
* * *
The sun was shining and the temperature a pleasant seventy-five degrees when Lacy pulled onto the Gardner construction site Monday at 11:15 a.m. Zack had asked her to be there by noon, and she wanted plenty of time to set up and heat the grill. Following his instructions from Friday, she drove toward a small group of sycamore trees set away from his modular office and parked in the shade beneath them. The sound of a thousand woodpeckers wreaking havoc jumbled her thoughts. The crew was obviously hard at work framing the next batch of houses. She hoped that meant they’d be hungry.
Before she set the brake on her truck, a young girl shot out of the office missile-straight through the dirt toward her. Lacy climbed from the cab just in time to meet the little brown-haired cutie as she hit the truck steps.
“Are you the food lady?” Breathless, the child inhaled before she blurted the next phrase. “I love pink!”
Grinning, because what else was Lacy supposed to do under the adorable circumstances, she nodded. “I am, and I love pink, too.”
“Pretty apron.” Could those dark eyes look any brighter?
“Why thanks. I like your sparkly pink T-shirt, too.”
“Thanks!”
“Emma, honey, leave Ms. Winters alone so she can get set up.” Zack wasn’t far behind, looking not only apologetic but impressive in a tan work shirt, the familiar snug jeans and work boots. He hadn’t worn his hard hat, and she got a good view of his due-for-a-cut dark blonde hair. Also impressive. This was his daughter? Which probably meant he was married, too. Of course he’d be.
Poof went her secret fantasy of picking up where they’d left off when she was eleven. The absurd thought almost made her laugh outright.
“We were just introducing ourselves,” Lacy said, trying not to give away her disappointment over him likely being married while also trying to sound upbeat, in case Emma was about to get in trouble for rushing the truck.
He held back a bit, letting Emma be. The girl fidgeted like a little bunny. “We don’t want to interfere with your setup.”
“I do have a few things to pull together, so...”
“Can I help?” Emma blurted.
Would it be a help or hindrance and throw her off schedule to find something for Emma to do? “Um, tell you what, give me half an hour to set up my kitchen, then I’ll let you put out the napkins and plastic utensils.”
“Okay!” Such enthusiasm.
Why was she here, anyway? Oh right, spring break, but did that mean Zack’s wife also worked? Probably. Two-income households were a sign of the times, especially in California.
“Great,” Zack said, a pleasing glint in his impressive green eyes.
Was that glint from being a happily married man? She wasn’t looking anyway; in fact, she’d been hiding out from all things “living�
� for the last year, focusing solely on getting her dad’s truck redone and taking it on the road. Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head was really disappointed.
“We’ll be back later.”
Later. Oh, right, she had a job to do—impress the heck out of him! She hoped later meant he would also order lunch. Handing out free coffee and pie samples to his men on Friday was one thing—who didn’t want free stuff? But bringing the customer back to order lunch, in this case fifty construction guys, give or take a dozen, was a wide bridge to cross. She hoped she’d made a good enough impression to coax at least half of them back.
The thought of having to earn her way into a job made her heart flutter, or maybe it was the extra sneak peek she’d taken of Zack’s backside while he’d guided his delightful daughter by her shoulder back to the office. Quit looking! You’re not interested.
Besides, he’s married.
Scratch flirting off the day’s agenda, snort, as if she would if she had the nerve in the first place. This man was boss material. She needed a job not a crush.
She couldn’t very well stand around and gawk at a really fine male specimen—she had work to do. Before she reentered her truck, she opened the outside menu, which listed the complete rundown of wraps, at affordable prices considering their size and contents. All self-explanatory, too. Chicken Done Right, Put a Steak in It, Ham It Up, Eat Your Veggies, Name That Tuna, Eggs-xactly, and Down by the Sea, a daily seafood special, today’s being a cold wrap of bay shrimp with her unique take on coleslaw. Plus, the day’s assortment of hand pies—apple, peach, blueberry and puddin’, today’s flavor being chocolate. Who wouldn’t want to try out her menu at least once?
With hope cinching up her insecurity, she stepped back into the food truck and got right to work heating the grill, opening the vents, setting out the marinated steak and chicken, and all the other accoutrements.
True to her word and exactly a half hour later, little Emma popped up on the doorstep. Like a puppy off a leash. “Are you ready for my help?”
“I sure am.” As Lacy scrambled to grab the paper napkins and box of plastic utensils, it occurred to her she hadn’t started the coffee. “Crud!”
“Are you okay?” Emma’s wide eyes and mild shoulder-hunch indicated worry. Unnecessary worry.
“Oh, I’m fine, honey, I just remembered I have to get the coffee brewed before the guys show up. Oh, and if you want to stick around, I’ll let you hand out the bottled water or canned sodas when they buy them.”
“Okay! This is fun.” Emma took the napkins and plastic forks and trotted outside to the pull-out counter. She rushed back in the instant she’d finished, her little pink-sneaker-clad foot tapping. “What else can I do?”
“Uh, well, how about putting the mustard, mayo and ketchup bottles out for me?”
“Okay!”
It certainly didn’t take much to make the child excited. A flash of being around the same age and helping her dad during the summers led her back to the handsome first adult crush of her life, Zackery Gardner, who just happened to be Emma’s dad. The married guy with a family. But really, what were the odds of crossing his path again? What a coincidence.
Everything went quiet. Silence fell over the truck like a thick blanket. What happened to the busy woodpeckers?
Lacy glanced at her watch. Noon. No need for a horn or whistle to mark that. Evidently, the construction crew knew instinctively and had stopped working. Her previously distracted stomach flutters immediately reported back for duty. Taking a deep breath, as if her future didn’t depend on selling wraps to new customers in order to land a regular job, she hopped into place behind the counter and waited.
And waited.
Until the silence became painful.
Looking down the site, half of the men sat on the concrete slabs of the houses eating from lunch pails, and a dozen or two had hopped into cars and driven off for someone else’s fast food, no doubt. They didn’t even bother to look at her as they drove by. She hadn’t won a single man over by handing out her desserts last Friday. She guessed she was not good enough to pay for. She’d never once used the word crestfallen in casual conversation, but it turned out to be the perfect word to best explain how she felt right then.
As her heart sank, dragging her self-esteem with it, Zack came out from the office leading a line of three other employees behind him. One woman, two men. Not counting Little Miss Enthusiasm. He stepped up to the window, a sympathetic smile creasing his mouth. “Lunch is on me,” he said over his shoulder to the office staff, his left hand resting on the food truck counter. When all her concentration should’ve been on the noble act Zack had just performed, instead she couldn’t help noticing there was no sign of a wedding ring.
The small group of employees looked over her menu and each made their order. No two alike. Next Zack gave her his—Put a Steak in It, no onions.
“May I have my own wrap, Dad?” Little Emma spoke up.
“Sure, Shortcake.”
His sweet gesture of buying everyone lunch made Lacy’s eyes go glassy, but instead of letting humiliation take over, she got right to work making the best dang batch of wraps she knew how. Being a hand talker, she’d learned over the years she couldn’t talk and prepare food at the same time, so she went quiet. Otherwise, she’d never get anything made. Out of gratitude, when she was finished, she threw in a pie for each of them.
“Coffee’s on me, if you’d like,” she said, as she processed the last order and gave Zack his change. They all obviously appreciated her throwing in the free stuff, but seriously, she’d made a fifty-cup urn of coffee that was going down the drain anyway.
He winked, and she felt twelve again, nearly blushed, too. Which wasn’t right because he was married, and that interchange had been so wrong. As she cleaned the workstation, her stomach twisted with defeat. She’d had such high hopes for this job, and after today’s sorry showing, he probably wouldn’t even invite her back for Wednesday.
Just about ready to give up, she noticed two construction guys moseying over toward her truck. Maybe they were curious after seeing their boss and the office crew get their lunch. They read over her menu and both ordered the steak wrap. If they really liked the food, maybe they’d come back and tell their work friends, too. If she was still there on Wednesday.
Then, as she made their wraps, a couple more guys made their way to her order window. “Ham It Up and Name That Tuna. Got it!”
All it took was someone leading the way. Thanks, Zack!
The female employee was the only one to take her lunch back to her desk. Everyone who stuck around to eat stood, since there wasn’t any place to sit. Hadn’t Zack said he’d set up something last Friday? Though standing, they all seemed to really enjoy their meals. At least there was that.
“This is the best tuna sandwich I ever had!” Emma said with her usual intensity.
“Let me have a bite,” Zack said.
“No Dad, you have your own.”
“I thought we shared stuff.”
“Oh, okay.”
He took a huge bite as Emma griped loudly. “Hey, leave some for me.”
“It is delicious, but I can’t believe you’re going to finish it.”
“Well, I might leave room for some puddin’ pie.”
“Then let’s wrap this up and take it home,” Zack said, extra loud, making a point to catch Lacy’s gaze, like a proud kid while saying the title of her truck.
As down as she felt over the lack of customers, she couldn’t help but smile.
But, hey, Zack had already broken his promise to set up places for people to sit. Everyone was forced to stand to eat the two-handed wraps, a messy business. He probably didn’t expect her to come back, or he wanted to see how the turnout was first before he made the effort, so why bother now. Good call, too, after the day’s paltry sales.
With only fi
fteen minutes remaining in the lunch hour break, and after selling only a dozen wraps, Lacy got an idea. She made a cell phone call to Zack, who’d gone back inside the office.
“Mr. Gardner, is it okay if I take some wrap samples to the guys out on the construction site?”
“I don’t see why not,” he said, after a second of silence. Construction had stopped. “Just watch out for nails and...”
“I will. Promise. Thanks!” She hustled to make two of each wrap on her menu, then cut them all into four pieces. With Emma sticking around like she was on the clock, Lacy grabbed two trays and, after covering them with a paper liner, put half of the sandwiches on each of the trays.
“Emma, can you carry one of these trays for me?”
“Okay!” Bright-eyes was on it.
Lacy grabbed a stack of flyer-styled menus, stuffed them in her apron pocket and headed out the door. Since the crowd hadn’t come to her, she’d go to the crew.
With Emma grinning and playing the perfect hostess, offering samples to the men who worked for her father, and with Lacy playing backup, they passed out every single quarter-wrap. Who could possibly refuse? Better yet, the men seemed to like them. Really like them. So she got another idea.
“If you bring the flyer with you on Wednesday, and buy a wrap, I’ll throw in a free coffee and hand pie of your choice.”
A few of the men took the menus right off. As more of them ate the various wraps, another handful took flyers. The interested response was better than nothing.
Heading back to her truck to clean up and shut down, some of the men who’d returned from eating off-site followed her.
“I’ll take a flyer,” one of them said, then another and another.
“I’ve still got coffee if you’d like a cup.”
Half a dozen stuck around for that, and since they were hanging around, she gave them some of the leftover hand pies, of which there were many. The assorted pies clearly got their approval, and soon a few more guys wandered over. Who didn’t want a free dessert?
Cooking Up Romance Page 4
