The Second Chance Café (Hope Springs, #1) (20 page)

Kaylie laughed. “Every day. They’re so easy, even I can do them, but I’d rather not have to.”

Dolly took the chair next to the one where Kaylie had been sitting. The one where Ten had sat to eat the night he’d brought her mashed potatoes and meat loaf. “You’ll have quite enough on your hands, I’m sure. Even with your limited hours, and your simple but absolutely genius menu, you’re going to be one busy girl. And baking all those brownies. Assuming you’ll do those yourself.”

“I’ll do some, yes, but the recipes aren’t so big a secret that I won’t share them with who I hire.” Interesting that Dolly knew so much about Kaylie’s plans. Definitely more than Kaylie had shared with Jessa, meaning the older woman must’ve heard the details from Luna or, more likely, Ten when he’d shown her the plans. “I’m not sure if Ten told you that this is just a part-time position. I don’t want you to expect the hours you get working for him. I just don’t anticipate having them. Not until I see how the café is received.”

Dolly crossed her legs, smoothing out the fabric of her taupe linen slacks. “He did tell me, and said if I was interested, and you wanted me, he and I could work out a schedule for me to keep my benefits. And from the chatter already around town, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about your reception. You couldn’t have picked a better time to open.”

“Since I haven’t been out much except to deal with things for the house, that’s good to hear.” But it wasn’t the news that had Kaylie’s heart tumbling. “And that’s very generous of Ten.”

“He’s a generous man.”

“You’ve worked for him a long time?”

Dolly nodded. “I started there about six months after my husband died.”

“Jessa mentioned his passing. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Her mouth tight with her suffering, Dolly looked down at her nails. “It was hard, but that’s to be expected. We’d been inseparable for most of our adult lives. Much like Winton and May.”

“It nearly killed May, losing him.” Kaylie shook her head, remembering.

Dolly met her gaze with a sad understanding, asking, “The two of you stayed in touch then? You and May?”

“We did,” Kaylie said, “though we didn’t get together as often as she would’ve liked. I was the one who had a hard time with it.” And why was she admitting all of this to a woman she was hoping to employ? “I’m sorry. That sounds so selfish—”

“No, sugar. It sounds honest. Never apologize for being honest.”

“Well, then, to be honest,” she said, putting into words a truth she’d never admitted to anyone, something this house had her doing often these days, “if the state hadn’t paid for my education, I probably would’ve stayed with them forever. It was the first true home I’d ever had. I didn’t want to give it up.”

“No more than May wanted to give you up, I’m sure.”

Kaylie let Dolly’s words settle. May had done nothing but encourage her toward the future, a new life on her own. She’d been eighteen, and it had been time. It had also been for the best, even if she’d thought differently when packing her things. May’s kicking her out of the nest had allowed her to fly.
Don’t look to where you’ve come from, Kaylie. Look to where you’re going.

She gave Dolly a wry grin. “Growing up’s not for the weak, that’s for sure.”

“And yet we all come to that place, don’t we?”

Kaylie nodded, swallowed, missing May.

“Your attending UT thrilled May to bits. You may not have known that. Or known how much. She bragged on you constantly. You always had the intelligence and the drive. You just needed the nurturing to pull it all together.”

This was certainly not where Kaylie had expected this interview to go. Or where she had
wanted
it to go. This was business. Dolly’s observations were personal to Kaylie, about Kaylie. And yet she couldn’t deny her curiosity. “I didn’t realize, when I was here before, that you and May were such good friends.”

Dolly brushed at the fabric over her knee, her downcast gaze contemplative. “I had Rick late in life. May was older than me, but she was still more of a contemporary than most of the mothers of Rick’s classmates. You may not remember the play your drama class did in seventh grade.
A Christmas Carol
?”

Kaylie hadn’t thought of that for years. “I do remember,” she said with a laugh. “I played Belle to Rick’s Scrooge. May made me the cutest pink gingham dress, probably not very period authentic, but it was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen.”

“It was the first time I remember ever seeing you in a dress. You were always more the sneakers and softball glove sort. You carried that glove everywhere.”

“I was afraid to let it out of my sight,” she said with a laugh.

“Studies, athletics, working while going to school.” Dolly smiled. “May had a lot to be proud of. And so do you.”

“Well, thank you. But you didn’t come here to talk about me, so…” Kaylie got to her feet and gestured behind her through the dining room. “Would you like to see the kitchen?”

“I’d love to,” Dolly said as she stood. “And to hear more about your plans. Ten’s told me some, but he doesn’t have answers to half my questions.”

Speaking of questions…“The day I put my ad in the
Courant
, Jessa bragged on your cooking. But she didn’t tell me anything about your experience.”

“That would be because I don’t really have any,” Dolly said, her laugh self-deprecating but not the least bit nervous. “Unless nearly four decades of family holidays and church socials and being in charge of monthly book club and bunco potlucks counts. I can provide plenty of references for my cooking skills, but I’ve never cooked in a commercial kitchen. I hope that’s not a problem. I should’ve thought to ask about that before wasting your time, but Jessa did say this was going to be a small enterprise.”

“It is going to be small, and you’re not wasting my time. And I meant to have an application for you to fill out, but I’ve been running in circles all week.”

They moved into the kitchen, Dolly walking around the island and taking it all in. “I love this kitchen so much. I was
always envious of the pantry space May had. And the food stores. Lordy. The woman never met a fruit or vegetable she couldn’t make into soup or jelly or just can to have on hand. Sometimes she put up enough to last to the next the growing season. And talk about a woman who could cook.”

A rush of emotion caught Kaylie unawares. May had used food for so many things besides nourishment. She’d taught life lessons to the kids in her care every time they’d come into the kitchen, and done so without their realizing it. It was easy to look back now and see that, but at the time, all Kaylie knew was snack time meant sitting at the island and listening to May talk.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I have no imagination when it comes to casseroles. And I want to use as much fresh produce and local ingredients as I can.”

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that. Whether you hire me or not. I belong to a farm co-op and can put you in touch with dairy farmers for your cheese and milk, all organic. The same with eggs and free-range chicken. Peggy Butters, who owns the bakery, has any herb you could possibly want. You have got to taste her rosemary-olive bread. Heaven. Absolute heaven.”

Kaylie wondered…“Do you happen to know Indiana Keller?”

“Ten’s sister? Well, yes, but I haven’t heard her name in ages.”

“I got the feeling they don’t stay in touch.”

“Ten’s not in touch with any of his family to speak of. As far as I know, his parents are still in Round Rock. Indiana lives near Buda, I believe. I’m not sure anyone knows where Dakota is. Not even Manny.”

“Manny?” Kaylie hadn’t heard the name before.

“Manuel Balleza. He was Dakota’s parole officer. He and Ten are still fairly close.”

Parole officer. Obviously the events that had kept the two brothers from going into business together were matters of the law. She wondered why Ten hadn’t told her. If it had slipped his mind or he’d thought it unimportant. Or if he’d hidden it from her. On purpose.

“Why did you ask about Indiana?” Dolly asked after Kaylie’s silence had gone on too long to ignore.

“I’d like to put in a garden and be able to supply what I can of my own produce. I asked Ten if he knew of someone who I might hire to do the heavy lifting.”

“And he mentioned his sister? That’s really odd. She’s the perfect choice. Don’t get me wrong. But there are others in the area I would’ve expected him to think of first.”

Kaylie wanted to ask the other woman why Ten’s recommending his sister was such a surprise, but she realized the answer might lead to others she wanted, others that Ten might not want her to know. It was best if she asked him herself. And she would.

Not about his reasons for giving her his sister’s name as a suitable prospect, but why he’d remained friends with his brother’s PO. And why he hadn’t told her Dakota was an excon. Especially when he knew her history with the law.

L
eaving the parlor and heading for the back of the house and his truck, Ten found Kaylie standing in the dining room, one arm across her middle, the hand of the other in a fist tapping her chin. A row of artwork in stark white frames sat on the floor propped against the longest wall. He knew she’d decided to paint the eating areas to reflect the four seasons, and from what he could tell, the pictures she was staring at were season-based as well.

For the look of the café, she’d been consulting with an interior designer from Austin. He hadn’t told her he’d heard gossip of hurt feelings from Maxine Mickels, the one and only local decorator, but the Austin designer had worked with Kaylie on the Sweet Spot, so it made sense for her to use someone she knew. Her renovations had already poured a ton of cash into the Hope Springs economy. The locals couldn’t expect her to keep all her money in town.

“If you’re trying to sneak up on me, you’re not doing a very good job.”

And here he’d thought he was doing a great one. “I was trying not to bother you. I wasn’t sneaking.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m bothering me.” She sounded grumpy or pouty or both, and he was rethinking his decision to use the back door.

Now he was stuck. “How so?”

“I can’t decide which of these pictures I like. Or if I like any of them.”

He was not going to get into the middle of this. “I like all of them.”

“You’re no help.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, fighting a grin as he crossed the room behind her, heading for the kitchen and escape. No good could come of his having an opinion.

“I interviewed Dolly yesterday.”

“Yeah?” He stopped, shook his head, and shoved his hands to his hips. She obviously had something on her mind. He’d learned that about her. She didn’t say anything without a very good reason. Even though sometimes it took her a while to get there. “How’d that go?”

“Fine. I’d forgotten that she was Rick Breeze’s mother. I mean, the Rick I knew in school, not the Rick married to Jessa.”

He walked closer. “That’s not the first time you’ve mentioned forgetting something from your time here.”

She shrugged. “A survival mechanism, I suppose.”

“Is that your diagnosis or your therapist’s?”

This time, her glare spoke for her.

“That was a joke, Kaylie.”

“It wasn’t a very funny one.” And she obviously wasn’t in a very funny mood. “I hardly need a professional to explain my issues. I’m well aware of how screwed up my life has been.”

O…kay. “We’re all screwed up one way or another. I think as long as we recognize it, we’re doing okay.”

“Dolly said something else,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

Uh-oh.
Here we go.
“Should I be worried? Has Dolly been spilling all my dark and dirty secrets?”

“Is there a reason you didn’t tell me your brother spent time in prison?”

She was still looking at the pictures when she asked, so he couldn’t get anything from the look on her face. He came to stand beside her, stared down at what he thought was summer heatedly staring back. “Dolly told you that?”

“Inadvertently, so don’t think she was gossiping about you.”

“I don’t see how else it could’ve come up.”

“She mentioned Manny, and I asked who he was.”

“Why would Manny come up in conversation?”

“It was innocent. I promise. We were talking about my plans for a garden. I asked if she knew your sister. The conversation progressed from there, the way conversations do.” She waved a hand as if frustrated at the distraction, and turned to face him. “But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe not to you,” he said, and moved his attention to the autumn leaves falling. “You’re not the one being talked about behind your back. And this isn’t the first time you’ve admitted doing it.”

“Ten. Why didn’t you tell me about Dakota?” she asked, backing away, arms crossed, defensive.

Was she throwing up a wall because he’d kissed her? Or because she didn’t like him calling her on the gossip she denied? Either way, his answer remained the same, and he glanced to the picture where winter was coming. “I didn’t
tell you about Dakota because who he is and where he’s been aren’t relevant to this job.”

“It’s relevant to me.”

“I don’t see how,” he said, glancing off spring as he turned to her.

Her expression was a mixture of things, but betrayal most of all. “After what I told you about my mother? Don’t you think I might want to know?”

“Why? Your mother went to prison for drugs, and for putting you in danger. My brother went to prison for…” He paused, realizing that for the first time in his life he was going to admit to a much larger truth than the facts he’d stuck with all this time. Facts were easy. Facts got the job done. Facts came without emotions attached. “Dakota did something I should’ve done.”

“I don’t understand.”

He did not want to talk about this. Not to anyone. Not to Kaylie at all. And yet the way she’d been so open about her own past, which far out-tragedied his, made sharing this particular event less a wrenching of his gut than he’d been bracing for.

He moved to the kitchen door, leaned the back of his head against the frame, and looked up at the dining room’s ceiling, where the new tracks for the lighting ran east to west. “Dakota’s two years older than me. I was a sophomore when he was a senior, and that year, over spring break, a friend of mine came and stayed with us.”