fence. Hunkering down, she stuck her fingers through to pat the wet dog, who she swore grinned at her despite the driving rain. “Hey there, Gumbo. You should stay up on the porch, where it’s dry.”
Ignoring her advice, the dog licked her fingers. “Aw, I love you, too,” Dani said. “I wish I could stay and visit with you, but it’s too wet and cold. Besides, Big Mama’s expecting me. When Jewel leaves, we’re having a ‘meeting.’” She pantomimed sticking her thumb down her throat, then lowered her voice. “If you can figure out a way to make Big Mama accept even some of my ideas and trust me enough to quit micromanaging me on weekends, I’d love to hear them. There’ll be a doggie treat in it for you. Gotta run now.”
She raced up the steps of the covered porch. The front door was unlocked, and once she removed her wet shoes and shook the rain water from her coat, she let herself in. After the damp cold outside, the house felt snug and dry. The familiar aromas of lemon oil furniture polish and freshly baked treats that smelled out of this world flooded her nostrils. Salivating, she hung her coat in the closet.
“Hey, it’s me,” she called out, just as she always had.
Her mother bustled in from the kitchen, her gait a little slower than it once had been, but still brisk. Dressed in her trademark off-white blouse and dark pants, bifocals propped on her head, she greeted Dani with a warm smile.
Jewel followed, as petite and trim as Big Mama was large.
“I was hoping to see you before I left.” Jewel tsked in sympathy. “I’m sorry about your breakup.”
“Thanks.” It was no surprise that she’d heard about that. Big Mama kept her well-informed. Still, Dani wasn’t about to discuss the details. “It’s nasty out there, so be careful,” she said.
Her mother peered out the little window in the door. “What a storm we’re having. The weather people are warning about a three-dayer. Lordy, I hope they’re wrong. Be safe, Jewel. I’ll see you Friday night.”
The woman nodded. “Six o’clock, dinner out and cards here.” She patted her large handbag. “Thanks for the cinnamon roll. It will go well with my afternoon coffee. You’re in for a yummy snack, Dani.”
When the door closed behind her, Dani’s mother opened her arms. “How about a hug for your Big Mama?”
Dani stepped into the familiar embrace. Instantly she was enveloped in Big Mama’s warmth and lilac cologne, and for a few seconds all her cares faded. For all their disagreements, Dani loved her dearly.
“What was Jewel doing here?” she asked when they let go of each other.
“You know what early birds we both are. She’s going to knit me a cardigan and wanted to show me possible yarns and colors.”
“That’s nice,” Dani said. “I hope you picked something with a little color.” Not that her mother wore colors much. Everything she owned was either black, brown or navy.
“I did—a soft gray. You hungry?”
Having skipped breakfast, Dani nodded. “Those cinnamon rolls smell wonderful.”
“Of course they do.” Big Mama grinned. “I took a batch out of the oven just before you got here. I left the nuts out, the way you prefer them. There’s a pot of hot coffee, too.”
Eager to eat something, and always up for another cup of coffee, Dani rubbed her hands together. Then she frowned. “Didn’t Dr. Adelson tell you to cut down on fats and sweets?”
Her mother made a face. “I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. Isn’t that enough? Besides, what’s the point of living if I can’t indulge in a few of the things I love?” With a defiant gleam in her eye, she raised her chin. “A treat now and then won’t hurt.”
Before Dani could argue, Big Mama changed the subject. “You have circles under your eyes.” She scrutinized Dani critically and pursed her lips. “You’re not sleeping well. It’s because of Jeter, isn’t it? I didn’t want to ask and bother you while you were at work this weekend, but how are you doing?”
Bother her? She’d only driven Dani crazy with her frequent calls. Dani refrained from pointing this out. She had more important things to discuss. “I stayed up late last night, but that had nothing to do with the breakup,” she explained. “I’m actually doing okay.”
“You’re already over Jeter?”
Nick’s kisses had all but wiped the other man from her mind. Kisses I’m going to forget, she reminded herself. “Pretty much.”
“That was fast—much faster than usual. Let’s get at those cinnamon rolls while they’re still hot. Spending Saturday evening with Nick must’ve done you a world of good,” Big Mama said as they sauntered toward the kitchen. “I just adore that boy.”
Nick was no boy—he was all man. Fighting the urge to glance away from her mother’s shrewd blue eyes, Dani shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t that in love with Jeter, after all.”
“I’m relieved. He wasn’t the one for you. What did you and Nick do to cheer each other up?”
Although the rain had changed into pounding hail, Dani suddenly wished she was outside. Anything would be better than answering that question. “We had dinner and talked. And we ate hot fudge sundaes,” she said. All of which was true. “Then we watched an old James Bond movie called Dr. No.”
“I remember that movie. Ursula Andress co-starred with Sean Connery.”
The scarred old oak table that had been around since Dani’s childhood was set for two, with a couple of jumbo cinnamon rolls on each plate. More than Dani could ever eat. The promised pot of steaming coffee and a pitcher of warm milk sat beside a stick of creamery butter and a vase of pussy willow buds. Ancient furniture and dishes that weren’t all that different from those at Big Mama’s Café—battle-worn, but friendly and homey. The food both here and at the restaurant was always excellent, but it was also very rich. People loved eating it, but these days they also needed other, healthier options.
Pushing that conversation aside for now, Dani sat in her customary seat, facing the window that overlooked the backyard where she’d spent many a happy spring and summer day. The curtains were open to let in the gray light. Hail bounced like white BB’s against the concrete patio.
Seemingly oblivious to the spectacle, Big Mama sighed as she buttered a roll. “Sean Connery—now there’s a man. He’s still as handsome as ever.”
For a long moment neither of them spoke, other than to exclaim over the flaky cinnamon rolls. Dani thought back to when she was six and Big Mama first took her in. At the time her then foster mother had been forty-five and widowed for almost four years.
Big Mama married late in life, and she and Winston had been madly in love. They’d been husband and wife just over a year when Big Mama had learned she was pregnant. She and Winston were ecstatic.
Then one snowy night her husband had died in a twenty-car pile-up on the freeway. A few weeks later, Big Mama miscarried. After that, she’d lost her interest in men, and had spent her days running the restaurant and raising Dani.
“I made a decision I’m sure you’ll approve of,” Dani said. “From now on, I’m
