by Tonya Kappes
Today’s special was a sausage casserole that paired great with any flavor coffee or tea. Everything was made fresh, which made the coffeehouse fill with amazing, stomach rumbling aromas no one could refuse.
The bell over the door dinged. I rushed back in the dining area to greet the customer.
“I’m telling you something is wrong,” Bunny Bowowski waddled into The Bean Hive with her brown pocketbook hung in the croak of her arm. “She didn’t answer her phone all night last night.”
“You know, I was by there just around eight o’clock and I did notice the strangest thing.” Mae Belle Donovan stopped just inside the door and put her hand on Bunny’s forearm. “You know those little plug-in candles that are in each one of her windows?”
“Do I?” Bunny rolled her eyes. “We downright got into a fight over them candles. In July of last year I told her that it was not Christmas and she needed to take them things down. In fact, it was hotter than a firecracker, not nary a thought of snow. She said it was decoration.”
“Good morning, ladies.” I greeted them like I’d done the past two mornings around this time.
According to Aunt Maxi, Bunny Bowowski and Mae Belle Donovan never left the house unless they were dressed in a dress, a shawl or coat (depending on the weather) and some sort of hat that sat on their heads like a bow as if it were completing the package.
They’d been friends for so long, they even resembled each other. Both had the exact same haircut, their grey hair was parted to the side and cut at chin length. They both carried a brown pocketbook that was perfectly held in the crook of their right elbow. Both were on the beautification committee. They came down every morning to get a look at the boardwalk to make sure everything was progressing right on schedule.
“Good morning to you.” Bunny nodded and began to walk up to the counter. “Those are lovely daffodils.”
“Thank you.” I scooted them over to the right a little more so I could get a good view of my two customers. “Aren’t they the most vibrant yellow you’ve ever seen?”
“Mmhmmm.” Her brows formed a V.
“I got them at the farmer’s market when I picked out my fresh produce and fruit. And this,” I tapped the vase, very proud of my find, “I found this for one dollar at Wild and Whimsy.”
“They do have some steals for an antique store.” She rotated the clear hourglass vase that had a tin top and a round hole where the flowers went. She ran her finger along etched flowers in the glass. “You certainly got a bargain.”
“Yes. I was very pleased.” I pushed back a strand of my wavy black hair.
Wavy was a loose term for the springy naturally curly hair my head seemed to sprout as soon as water touched it. No matter how much I had it straightened, tried to straighten or even hide in a ponytail, a stray strand of hair sprung out from somewhere.
I glanced toward Mae Belle.
They weren’t the spriest of women, but they certainly got around just fine.
“Hi do.” Mae Belle gave a slight bow. “Something smells delicious.”
“You are just in time for my country sausage casserole.” I pointed to the glass pan I’d just taken out of the oven.
The melted cheese was still bubbling around the edges where it’d not cooled off yet.
“I’m letting it cool off so I can cut nice thick slices.” I found it was best to let a dish cool for around ten minutes to not only set the casserole, but to let the flavors deepen and simmer within the ingredients. “If you’d like to have a cup of coffee while you wait for a slice of the casserole, I’d love to get you some.”
“Oh, Roxanne, you do know us don’t you.” Bunny gave a theatrical wink. She pointed to one of the few café tables I had provided for the customers. “We’ll go on over there.”
I leaned way over the counter and whispered like I had a grand secret, “You can call me Roxy. All my friends do.”
“Roxy with the amazing eyes.” Bunny winked. “You do have beautiful blue eyes.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, grateful for the comment.
I poured two ceramic coffee mugs with The Bean Hive’s own highlander grog and set them on a small round tray along with one of the silver cow cream pitchers I’d gotten on sale at Wild and Whimsy. Most of the china and silver I’d bought for The Bean Hive was from there, since the old things go great with the exposed brick walls, wood pallet furniture and big comfy chairs I’d used to decorate the shop, as well as the old tin signs and the chalkboard menus that hung above the counter.
“Roxy.” A big smile curled up on her face. “Now that’s a name with character.”
“That’s what I hear.” I chuckled and excused myself where I retreated into the kitchen.
For the last year, I’d gotten up way before the rooster crowed, so to speak, which was about four a.m. around these parts. Only I hadn’t been in these parts. Only recently had I moved back to Honey Springs. I’m not sure if it was to get away from the life I’d left behind due to my divorce or if I needed a little bit of familiarity or comfort. Regardless, I’m what I’d like to call a retired lawyer even at the young age of thirty. Retired because after my divorce, I hated lawyers. It was then that I’d listened to all that junk about following your passion. Doing what you love. Life is too short, yada-yada. One four a.m. morning, I couldn’t sleep and fixed myself a cup of coffee. It was then and there that I decided I wanted to go to barista school and I’ve never looked back.
“The shops are looking great,” I called over my shoulder on the way back to the kitchen to check the rest of the casseroles before I stuck the lunch ones in.
“We are pleased as peaches on how Cane Contractors has really stayed on schedule.” I heard Bunny say after I walked through the door into the kitchen.
Cane Contractors. A lump formed in my throat at the sound of the name. It was very hard to swallow. I shook my head to make the thought go away.
“What on earth?” I looked at the convection oven with the morning sausage casseroles in it and noticed the digital buttons weren’t lit up.
I hit the oven button and nothing. I opened the oven door. The casseroles were still running and lumpy. I stuck my hand in the oven and it was cold. Not a lick of heat.
“Great,” I groaned and hurriedly took out a couple of the four casseroles I had in there and moved them to the other convection oven next to it where I crammed them in with the lunch quiches. “This is going to have to work.” I gulped knowing it probably wasn’t going to work since both of them required different cooking temperatures.
I headed back out to the shop and grabbed my cell phone out of the pocket of my apron and dialed my aunt Maxine.
“Aunt Maxi, I’m so glad you answered.” My rapidly beating heart settled down after I’d heard the comforting sound of her voice.
“This better be good,” the tone in her voice wasn’t happiness. “I need my beauty sleep. I’m on the prowl ya know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Prowl. My aunt was in her mid-sixties and widowed. Widowed at a young age too. But as far as I knew, she was happily single. “Listen, can you hurry down to the shop and grab some of the lunch quiches for me and put them in your oven to bake?” I asked.
“You didn’t call a handyman yet?” She let me know that she’d warned me several times after I’d bought the place how the previous owner of the restaurant had undercooked food and eventually got shut down by the Health Department.
“No,” I muttered, knowing I really should’ve listened to her but the cost was something I wasn’t able to afford right now. “I was trying to wait until this first week was open and then I’d hire one.”
“I’m going to say I told you so, just because I can say I told you so and you won’t give no sass back. I told you so,” she said in a playful voice. “I’ll be right over.”
“Thank you so much. I love you and I know you love me.” A sigh of relief escaped me.
There weren’t too many times Aunt Maxi didn’t save me. In fact, the reason I’d come back to Ho
ney Springs was due to her. I love my mom but she seemed to hover around me when I’d gone home to Lexington after my divorce. Aunt Maxi had lived in Honey Springs all her life and she was my dad’s sister. Unfortunately, he’d died of cancer years ago. I’d spend summers here with Aunt Maxi and the cozy town had become a second home to me.
I loved the small shops scattered throughout the town. But the boardwalk and pier were my favorite spots in Honey Springs. Aunt Maxi owned a few rental properties, The Bean Hive being one as well as Crooked Cat Bookstore plus a couple residential places. Unfortunately for me, she didn’t have any houses available, so I bought a pretty run-down cabin alongside the lake and only a four-minute bike ride from the coffeehouse.
It was a perfect place to live, but needed a few upgrades. Still, it was mine and I loved every part of it, even the broken ones.
“Are you ladies ready for your slice of country sausage casserole?” I asked and sliced into the warm casserole, plating two nice sized pieces on two lattice, milk glass plates. “Here you go.” I set a plate down in front of each of them.
“This looks amazing, Roxy.” Bunny leaned over the plate. She closed her eyes and inhaled. “And smells delicious.”
There was nothing as satisfying to me as seeing someone who enjoyed something I’d made with my hands.
“Thank you.” I took a step back and put my hands in a prayer position up in front of my face. “I’m honored. I hope you enjoy the taste too.”
“I’m sure we will,” she said.
Mae Belle didn’t have to say anything. She’d already dug in and was on her third bite.
I walked over to the door not only to see if Aunt Maxi was on her way, but to see if there was anyone walking along the boardwalk who I could offer a free coffee to. Even if some of the construction workers were employed by Cane, there was a lot of construction going on and even they had to eat or at least warm up with a coffee. My eyes scanned the workers to make sure I didn’t see anyone I knew from my past summers here. There was a bit of satisfaction and a bit of sadness when I didn’t recognize any of them. It was probably a good thing.
“You’ve outdone yourself with this one,” Mae Belle called from behind me and forced me to come back out of my memories that were good and bad.
“Thank you so much.” I stared down the boardwalk where a tall, lean man with a yellow hardhat on was standing next to the new beauty salon and spa.
He had a set of plans rolled out in front of him. A couple of men on each side of him were looking at the plans. They nodded and spoke with each other. The early morning chill had yet to give way to the spring afternoon weather. I knew the spa was going to open along with most of the other shops before the annual spring Honey Festival in hopes that’d bring the tourists we needed to revitalize the sleepy town. That was one of the reasons I’d moved back. The fond memories of lazy days spent on the pier and watching all the people going in and out of the shops outweighed the only bad memory I’d had. Those days had been long gone and now I was going to do my part to help bring it back.
Not only did the Honey Springs economy need it, I needed it to help restore my soul.
“Are you two okay?” I asked on my way back to the counter.
They nodded and went back to discussing their friend who apparently hadn’t shown up for a meeting or something.
I grabbed a thermos that could hold six cups of coffee and stuck it under the Bunn Industrial coffee maker to fill. While it filled up, I grabbed a few to-go cups. I ran a finger over the cute The Bean Hive logo I’d designed. It was fun to see the bee that had a coffee bean for a body come to life on the materials I’d had printed for merchandise as well as on marketing materials.
The bell over the door dinged and I looked up.
“Alexis Roarke,” Bunny greeted the petite blonde. “We were just discussing where you’ve been.”
“You have,” Alexis Roarke wore her blond hair in a conservative nature with a bob cut just beneath her ears and straight across bangs. She had on pair of tennis shoes, khakis, and a pull over hoodie with the Honey Springs logo on it.
“I even went by your house and your decorative candles weren’t even lit up.” Mae Belle eyed her suspiciously.
“Why, Mae Belle Donovan,” Alexis drew her hands up to her chest. “You do care about me.”
“Of course, we do.” Bunny pushed back the only extra chair at their café table. “Sit.” She patted the seat. “Where have you been?”
Alexis waved her off and was content standing next to the table.
“I don’t have time to sit. I’ve got to open the shop. Maxine Bloom is at it again,” she said my aunt’s name with exhaustion. “Raising the rent on the bookstore. I’m gonna have to stop volunteering at the Pet Palace.”
“Why? Because you volunteer with Maxine?” Bunny asked and sipped on her coffee.
“No. So I can keep the bookstore open an extra day. I close early on Fridays so I can go volunteer. No more.” She shook her head. She pointed at me and shook her finger. “I hear you are Maxine’s niece.”
“You hear right.” I offered a warm smile in hopes she didn’t hold it against me that my aunt Maxine was her landlord. “Did I also hear you say that you are the owner of Crooked Cat Bookstore?”
“I am.” Her eyes narrowed as though she was sizing me up.
“I have fond memories of your bookstore when I used to come visit during the summer.” A happy sigh escaped me. “I remember sitting in that big purple bean bag that was in the front window next to the cat tree. You had that little grey cat and that amazing banned book section.”
“I’ll be. I remember your eyes.” A smile formed and reached her eyes. They twinkled as though the memory was bright. “That’s when Maxine and I got along. She’d bring you in there while she was doing her property rounds and tell you to read books. I knew I was watching you.”
“I believe my love of reading stems from you and all the time I spent in your store.” I pointed to the coffee maker. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? On the house.”
“Ours wasn’t,” Mae Belle grumbled under her breath.
“I’d love one to go. And give me one of them cake doughnuts.” She pulled her chin to the side, and tilted her eyes over her shoulder as she enjoyed the look on Mae Belle’s face.
With the to-go cup of coffee and The Bean Hive bag filled with a doughnut, she bid her friends goodbye.
“I’ll see y’all at the town council meeting tomorrow. I’ve got a few things to say about this zoning thing and Maxine Bloom.” She skirted out of the shop.
Mae Belle and Bunny put their heads together and both tried to whisper above the other. I figured it was a good time to take the workers the coffee.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to run some coffee down to the workers.” I held the thermos up along with the cups.
The sun was popping up over the trees that stood along the lake like soldiers and filtered over the calm water of the lake. There were a couple of small bass boats running side-by-side with a couple of men in them, probably looking for a good inlet to bass fish.
The wood boards of the boardwalk groaned underneath each step I took as I got closer to the group of men.
“Good morning,” I greeted them. “I’m Roxanne Bloom, owner of The Bean Hive.” I gestured toward the coffee shop. “I’ve made all this coffee and only a few customers have come in.” I left out the fact that I’d only had the same two customers all week long. “And I’d hate to see this fresh coffee go to waste, so I thought I’d bring it to y’all.”
“That’s mighty nice of you.” The tall man grinned from under the hardhat. He kept his eyes on the thermos.
One of the men took the cups out of my hand while another one took the thermos.
“We appreciate that, don’t we boys?” The man’s deep voice echoed off the limestone banks of the lake. The glare of the sun reflecting off the lake made it difficult to see his face.
The men thanked me.
“If y’al
l get hungry, I also serve food.” I smiled and clasped my hands in front of me. I was definitely trying to use the old saying that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Not that I was trying to get into any of their hearts, I wasn’t, but I was trying to get to their stomachs and their wallets. “Enjoy.”
“We will. And we will return your thermos,” the man said before he went back to pointing out things about the spa.
It was my cue to head on back. They had work to do and so did I.
“Hello, honey.” Aunt Maxi was leaning her bike up against the outside of the shop. She pulled off her knit cap. She tucked the hat in the purse that was strapped across her body and pulled out a can of hairspray. She raked her hand upward through her hair and used her other hand to spray it to high heaven. “You know, you need to get a bike rack.”
“I do need a bike rack, but I also need to get a new oven or have this one looked at.” I opened the door for her and let her walk in before me. “New hair color since yesterday?”
She gave the newly blond-colored hair another good spray before she stuck the can back in her purse and started toward the door.
“Alice Dee down at the Honey Comb says it’s all the rage. Makes me feel young as a whippersnapper.” She turned to me. The morning sun sprinkled down upon her.
I shook my head and realized having her bike up against the coffeehouse was probably not a good place for it to lean in case someone tripped over it.
Most of the community rode bikes everywhere since Honey Springs was a small, compact town that took pride in their landscape and Kentucky bluegrass that made the entire town look like a fancy landscape painting.
“You look a little like Phyllis Diller.” And it wasn’t just the hair. Aunt Maxi had put on a little too much makeup
