Wanted: The Perfect Mom. T. R. McClure
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“I know you did, all great and powerful contractor brother.” She turned at the sound of the bell over the door.
A willowy blonde woman entered, looking as if she’d just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. With her hair in a French twist, she wore a navy blue pantsuit with a pale blue shell.
Holly returned to the cash register and studied the new arrival. Somehow she knew the woman wasn’t a local.
She tried to catch Carolyn’s eye as she hurried toward the door but instead caught Sonny’s.
He pointed a finger at her as he held the door for his wife. “I haven’t forgotten about that other deal, Holly. I’ll be back.”
Holly stuck her tongue out at her brother but pulled it back just as the blonde approached the counter.
“I’ll have a nonfat cappuccino, extra hot, ma’am.” The woman’s Southern accent was slight but recognizable. Diamond studs twinkled in her ears.
Holly pulled the milk from the refrigerator and poured. Lifting the metal pitcher to the wand, she puzzled over her customer while keeping watch on the thermometer. Probably visiting family. Tom Johnson’s sister worked down South somewhere. She frothed the milk and, with her other hand, pulled a shot of espresso. Giving the concoction a quick stir, she set the cup in front of the woman who had placed a few bills on the counter.
“Keep the change, honey.” She walked to one of the chairs, her high heels tapping, and she sat, set the cup on the table and pulled a laptop out of a large leather purse.
Holly couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She rested her hands on the open drawer of the cash register. The woman sat with her legs crossed at the ankle so just a portion of red sole showed.
“Well, are you?”
Holly jumped when she discovered her mother at her elbow. “You scared me to death, Mom. I thought you were in the kitchen.”
“I was.” A crease appeared between Rose’s brows. “I asked you a question and you were miles away.”
Holly’s hands were still resting on the drawer. What was she doing? Change. Keep the change. She removed three quarters from the drawer, edged around her mother and dropped the change in the tip jar with a clang.
Her mother pursed her lips, closed the cash drawer and eyed her steadily.
Holly rested her hands on her mother’s shoulders. “Sorry, Mom. I was thinking. What were you saying?”
Rose’s face relaxed and she wrapped one arm around Holly’s waist and pointed to the display case with the other. “We’re completely sold out of whoopie pies and no bakes. Did you order more for tomorrow?”
Holly peered into the display case. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “You’d think people would want something like scones and biscotti. No bakes are so simple. One minute on the stove, plop a spoonful on waxed paper and you’re done. I can’t cook but even I can make no bakes.”
“Buying is easier.” Rose took a crumb-covered plate from the case. “We still like our old-fashioned goodies but nobody bakes anymore. People are busy, and making cookies is just too much work.” She reached into the open case.
“Mom, I’ll do that.” Holly put a hand on her mother’s back.
Rose waved her off and said, “I’m fine. Why don’t you talk to Sue at the bakery? She might have to hire more help.” Withdrawing her head from the case, her mother put a hand on her hip and smiled. “Now, isn’t that nice? Your business is providing work to people in town.”
“Tell that to Dad,” Holly said.
The four teenagers had finished their drinks and were heading for the door. The only other customer was the blonde woman, who appeared content with her cappuccino and laptop.
“Now, Holly...”
“Okay, I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time.” Louise came out of the kitchen and headed for the cups left by the teens. “We’re all caught up. We can handle things. How about it, Rose?”
Holly smiled at her best friend. “Have I told you how much I appreciate your help with this venture?”
Cups in hand, Louise rolled her eyes. With a glance at Holly’s mother, she lowered her voice. “Think you can handle seeing Mac around? That stuff happened a long time ago.”
Louise had been Holly’s most ardent defender when the older boys would start their taunts. As small as she was, they just laughed at her attempts to quiet them. Holly shrugged as she picked up the tip jar and jingled the change inside. She didn’t care to think about Mac’s reappearance in their lives. “He insulted my coffee.”
Louise smiled. “Your coffee will win him over, just like everyone else in town.”
“Everyone except my father,” Holly said. “Chris is the only one who has traveled. He’s used to places like this. But the others still think coffee should cost a quarter.”
“They’re a minority. Stop worrying.”
“What if they’re right, Weaz? I’ve invested my life savings in this shop, not to mention the loan from my parents and your free help. If the business goes under, I’ll have nothing to show for it. My father will never let me hear the end of it.”
“If you wanted to be safe you would’ve stayed enlisted. But you took a chance. If it doesn’t work out, you’re young. You’ll find something else.”
“Let’s hope everyone in town doesn’t share McAndrews’s fifty-cents-a-cup attitude.” She peered into the tip jar. “We got tips.” Holly dumped the change in her hand and counted out fifteen dollars and fifty-two cents. “Somebody put in their two cents’ worth, most likely my brother, who thinks he’s funny.”
As Louise started to back through the swinging door into the kitchen, she said, “Add the cash to the register.”
“No way. You, Mom and Carolyn get the tips. It’s the least I can do.” Dumping the change in the jar, Holly pushed back her guilt that no one was accepting a paycheck yet. She needed to start making a profit soon. By fall, when everyone returned to their usual duties, she would need an employee or two.
“What else would I be doing?” A resigned smile graced her face before she disappeared into the kitchen.
Holly could hear her loading cups into the dishwasher and her heart went out to her brave friend.
Kneeling by the display case, Rose caught her gaze. “I think working here has been good for Louise. She seems more like her old self. You go on, we’re fine.”
Holly untied her apron and hung it on the hook next to the kitchen door. Thinking of Louise’s tragedy, she realized her own memories of being teased in gym class couldn’t compare. “Okay, I’m out of here. I hope you don’t get a busload of senior citizens while I’m gone.”
Holly