From Scratch (13 page)

“Thank you, but it's only partially me. Much of the elaborateness is thanks to Millie and her ability to coerce even the stingiest of supporters to give generously. She had all of the cut-outs donated by a local supplier for a simple mention in the program. And she was able to not only secure tonight's band for half of their normal fee, but to get them to back out of a gig in Cincinnati.”

“Wow, that's impressive. What, is she in the mafia or something?”

Jane giggled. “Nope. Millie is in the Millie-Wins-At-All-Costs club of one. She always gets her way. You would think I would be bitter about it after nearly three decades, but alas, I love her, so I am pretty happy when she wins. And I usually benefit from those victories.”

As if saying her name caused her to magically appear, Millie sauntered up to the table in a deep burgundy halter dress with a fitted bodice and an A-line skirt. Her long, blonde hair flowed behind her. “Hello, girls, what's doing?”

Jane rolled her eyes and slid her hand to her hip. “Really Millie, does that dress scream professional elegance to you?”

Millie matched her best friend's stance. “Janesie, I have an image to maintain. And just because I am moonlighting with your little event planning business doesn't mean potential PR clients won't be swirling around this joint. I need to always represent Amelia Tandis Consulting. You never know when the next head-case will show up and need a beautiful spin in the Millie Machine of Magical PR.”

“You really need to come up with another
M
word if you keep up with that drivel,” Jane said, grinning at her friend.

“Hey, that drivel procured you all of these lovely expensive decorations for free and a band willing to make nice with the FOP on the off-chance that they might get out of a speeding ticket in the near future.”

Jane's mouth dropped open. “Millie, please tell me you didn't promise the band they wouldn't get a speeding ticket if they were stopped?”

Millie shrugged her shoulders. “I may have implied that serving the state's finest one night out of the year couldn't hurt if they ever needed help with sticky legal situations.”

“Millie! You can't promise things like that. It's lying. Haven't we talked about lying?”

“Oh, Jane, the virtuous wonder, I didn't lie. I implied. There's a difference.”

“We'll talk about this later.” Turning to Maggie, Millie smiled. “Everything looks beautiful. I can't wait to sink my teeth into a few of each.”

With a quick scan of the table, Maggie swiveled to face Jane and Millie. “I'll just pass the final list of instructions to the caterer and be on my way. She's being kind enough to drop my serving dishes back at the shop, so there shouldn't be anything for you to worry about on my end. Have a good night. I can't wait to hear about it.”

“Maggie, you aren't leaving, are you?” Jane asked.

“I hope you don't mind. I spoke with the catering staff when I arrived, and they felt very capable of filling the trays as needed and tearing down the tables.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Should be pretty straightforward.” Without her interns, Maggie barely caught two hours of sleep per night over the past week. Her current fantasy centered on a solid eight hours of closed eyelids after unwinding with her tea and new book.

Jane's head tilted to the side. “I don't mind you not filling the trays. I was hoping you would stay for the event, as a guest.”

“I really can't.” She glanced down at her flour and butter crusted chef's coat, a small reflection of the work that had consumed her for the last week. “Even if I had clothes to change into, I'll barely make it through the forty-five minute drive home.”

“Oh…I just thought that you might want to stay. You know, spend some time with Sean when you aren't in a chef's coat and he isn't in a police uniform?”

A flash of she and Sean dancing to the lilted melody of a love song twirled through her mind and sent a streak of shivers down her spine—but that daydream wasn't strong enough to overpower uninterrupted sleep. She was so exhausted, only Jesus coming back and tapping her on the shoulder for a dance would convince her to give up quality time staring at the back of her eyelids. “I am sorry. All I want to do is go home, take a long shower, melt into bed, and stay there for the next eight to twelve hours.”

“Seriously, Maggie, you can't up and leave before your Columbus debut.” Millie crossed her arms. “Everyone who's anyone in this town will be here. Or if they aren't, they'll wish they had been after the wonderful press coverage tonight.”

Press?

Warning bells shrieked in Maggie's brain. Press meant photos. Rule number one in the nice-peaceful-life handbook was never get photographed. She swallowed. Her throat felt as if sandpaper lined its walls. “I guess I'll have to remain a mystery tonight. No need to scare future patrons off by watching the baker fall asleep standing up. Not a very good image for a responsible business owner.”

Jane stepped forward and laid her hands on Maggie's shoulders. “Understood. You get home and get some rest.”

“Thanks.” Maggie glanced over her shoulder at the table. “I think you should be in good shape.” She refocused her attention on Millie and Jane. “Thank you both for giving me this opportunity. The faith you have in me is unwarranted, but appreciated.”

Jane stepped back. “No thanks necessary. You did us a huge favor. With the last minute changes, you really pulled a rabbit out of your hat. I tried one of those little footballs back in the kitchen and that chocolate mousse is something to write sonnets about.”

Maggie felt the heat rise to her cheeks and wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from yanking Jane into a bear hug, splattering her lovely dress with the flour and chocolate adhered to her chef's coat.

“Well, Mags, since we can't persuade you to stay, not that we tried very hard,” she said with a lift of an eyebrow to Jane. “You better skedaddle out of this joint before tall, blond, and handsome catches wind that our plot to convince you to stay has been foiled by a hot shower and a long snooze. I'll lose all street cred if that comes out.”

“Enough said. I'll be on my way. I can't wait to hear about the details at church on Sunday.”

“You're closed tomorrow, right?” Jane asked.

“Thankfully, yes. It's under the guise of inventory, but I've secretly been completing the inventory all week in little spurts. I can't wait to have a day all to myself that isn't a Sunday. Two days off in a row seems so decadent.”

Jane pulled Maggie into a quick hug, seemingly unconcerned with her chef's coat. “Well, enjoy the much needed rest. And be careful not to fall asleep on the drive home. Those roads can get a little curvy closer to Gibson's Run.”

“Thanks. See you on Sunday.” Maggie nodded a quick goodbye. She exited through the side door, leaned against the wall, and released a low sigh. Exhausted and overwhelmed with the kindness of Millie and Jane, tears were building. She slumped against the white painted cinder block hallway wall leading to the prep kitchen. Swiping at the wetness, she sought the only One Who truly knew her.
Lord, please give me strength and let me know what to do. These wonderful ladies are so generous with their friendship—please forgive me for continuing not to share equally with them. Help me to know what to do. I need You now. I need You so desperately…to show me what to do. I just want to be me again. Is that even possible?

She scrubbed her cheeks and shoved off of the wall. Each bone in her body felt like it weighed over a thousand pounds. She just needed to rest. Rest would solve everything. Maggie slammed her hands against the bar on the door to exit.

A rush of cold air whipped, wrapping her thin café pants around her legs, and reminding Maggie that winter was about to bare ugly teeth. The frigid wind offered a strange sort of comfort. Nothing like October zooming into November to freeze out a pity-party for one.

11

An upbeat melody filled the cracks of conversation as Sean wound his way through the series of cleverly situated cocktail tables. He couldn't suppress the slight smile as he faced the life-size cut-out of himself at eighteen in his letterman jacket. He shoved his hands in his pant pockets and rocked back on his heels, taking in his younger self's blond mullet and wide-mouthed grin.

The night that the photo was snapped, he thought life couldn't get any better. He was dating a cheerleader named Brittney who liked to dot her i's with hearts, and he was quarterback for a winning football team. He had reached the pinnacle of high school supremacy.

His fragile little bubble burst only two weeks later when Brittney proclaimed her love for the lead scorer for the basketball team, leaving Sean and his heart smashed. For the next month, he wandered the halls of GRHS like a forlorn puppy.

“Flash from the past?”

Sean looked over his shoulder.

Jane's smiling face and constant friendship had been his comfort in the midst of that harrowing month and most of the other trials in his life. “Hi, Jane. I was just remembering Brittney and her heart-dotted i's.”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “Just hearing that girl's name makes me seventeen years old and mad as a lion hungry from a forty-day fast.”

Sean looped his arm over Jane's shoulders and yanked her to his side. “I love you, Janie.” He kissed her soundly on her forehead, causing her to chuckle.

“Now, it's not every day you walk up on your wife being mauled by a police chief who is declaring his love for her. What is a poor husband to do?”

Jane's husband of a little over a year, hockey legend Lindy Barrett, stood behind them. Despite his relaxed stance, his glare was piercing as he stared down at Sean, giving a glimpse at the jealousy simmering under the surface.

Sean dropped his arm from Jane's shoulders. He didn't want to stretch the bonds of friendship too far. He feared he might have his face stretched against Lindy's wicked left hook.

“Oh, Lindy, don't be silly,” Jane said, sliding her arm around her husband's waist. “Sean and I were just reminiscing a little about high school and this awful girl who broke his heart.”

“Was it Millie?” Lindy asked.

“Nope.” Sean chuckled. “Millie broke my heart at ten. This was another cheerleader.”

“Enough about high school. It's a depressing topic. I want to know what you think.” Jane spread her left arm out toward the ballroom filled with mingling guests.

The wide buffet wrapped the back left corner of the room, and several cops stacked their plates with a variety of hot and cold appetizers. The parquet dance floor was partially filled with guests swaying to the music, and the simple yet elegant dessert display, sitting opposite the appetizers, was starting to draw a crowd.

“Janesie, you and Killer definitely outdid yourselves. This place looks amazing. You will probably have to plan the next twenty of these things.”

Jane's cheeks flared pink as her husband tugged her closer to his side. “That's what I told her,” Lindy said, pride lacing his voice. “She was born to make people happy. She's certainly made me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Lindy brushed a soft kiss to Jane's forehead.

A wave of awkward washed over Sean as he watched the blatant adoration his dear friend's husband had for her. He was ecstatic for Jane. He didn't know anyone who deserved this kind of love more, but he couldn't quite squelch the envy creeping up his spine as he took in the blissful couple.
Snap out of it! You're a dude. Dudes don't get gushy over happily-ever-after, chick-flicks, or sappy commercials.
Sean stuffed his hands in his pockets and searched the ballroom for a viable exit from the oppressive sweetness.

Scanning the desert table, the image of the pretty, petite brunette once again came to the forefront of his mind. Would she attend the party? He mentally reviewed their conversations over the past week and couldn't remember an actual invitation slipping into their discussions. He did remember their near kiss and the way she felt in his arms, as if God had created her to fit his embrace, and the stunned expression as he told her his interest was in more than friendship.
Dude, seriously? Man-up. The next thing will be reading romance novels in a bathtub with scented candles.

Jane cleared her throat, drawing his attention. “Gentlemen, I need to see about a few things. Sean, would you be the wonderful friend I know you are and introduce Lindy around?”

Sean nodded. “No problem.”

“Thank you.” Jane lifted her lips to her husband's cheek, and then wiped away the slight residue her lipstick left. “I will see you later, Mr. Barrett.”

“You can count on it, Mrs. Barrett.”

Jane walked to one of the servers carrying a tray of appetizers and then guided him back toward the prep room and out of sight.

“So, would you like to get something to drink?” Sean asked.

Lindy shrugged his shoulders and the two moved to the ten-person-deep line at the bar.

“How was tonight's game? I was in a bit of a rush leaving town, and I only caught the second period. The team was winning, right?” Sean asked as the two scooted forward.

“We managed to tank in the third.” Lindy shook his head. “This new goalie the team brought up is like Swiss cheese, filled with holes and sharp flavor. The coaches have their hands full with him. Not that he's a dream for us on the player ops side, but at least we only need to make sure he's communicating with the front office and has a place to sleep.”

“Huh, I didn't really know what you were doing with this new job. I thought you were really digging retirement, although it's kind of weird to say you're retired at thirty-six. You seemed like you had a few good years left in you.”

Lindy shrugged his shoulders. “My knees just couldn't take it anymore. This job in hockey ops, dealing with the players' acclimation, is a good way to still be in the game without having to travel all the time with the team or be away from home too much. I knew that if I wanted to be with Jane, I needed to be in Columbus. Simple as that. She is more important to me than any career. More important even than the Cup. I would walk on hot coals and through a wall of glass just to be with her.” He shook his head, let out a low whistle, and rocked back on his heels. “Nice…maybe I have been married to long. I sound like one of Jane's sappy movies.”