Love Is for the Birds

16. Teddy

TEDDY PULLED OUT HER MOTHER’S RECIPE BOOK. SHE NEEDED a simple-yet-unforgettable recipe for her debut of the new Sweet Somethings. Searching for the perfect recipe also provided a much-needed distraction from the thoughts of Jack that barged into her head. The nerve of him to talk about “the real Teddy.” Every rational part of her being knew she should not get involved with Jack and his dead wife, but one illogical part of her refused to cooperate.

Worse yet, he knew “tells.” Did the expression on her face or her thumping heart give her away? Ridiculous. She didn’t have time for this. In order to make enough candy to sell at the concert, she needed to spend every possible hour cooking. She didn’t have a lot of time to experiment with a new recipe, but maybe she could update her mother’s strawberry fudge. Or perhaps, she should experiment with Root Beer Float and Dreamsicle. They’d make two unforgettable fudge flavors. Of course, she’d make the classic Rocky Road for all the fudge purists.

Teddy set the alarm for four and fell into bed. Before falling asleep, every time Jack came to mind, she pushed the thought away by listing the candy ingredients necessary for the fudge.

When the alarm sounded, Pickles lifted her sleepy head, then dropped back on her pallet. “You have ten minutes, then we’re out of here.” She regularly conversed with Pickles. Pickles listened politely, and unlike Daniel, she never launched into rambling explanations about the obvious. At least the hurricane accomplished something good. The storm forced her to make a decision about her relationship with Daniel.

As Teddy drove out of town toward the mainland, she passed Jack’s fifth-wheel RV parked at the pavilion. Pickles barked seeing the rig. “Now don’t you get attached to him, Pickles.”

Keep focused. Sugar, root beer and orange extract, marshmallows, nuts, butter, cocoa . . . She recited her recipe ingredients for the ten-thousandth time.

She picked up her supplies, a sausage and egg breakfast taco, and a jumbo-sized coffee at the HEB in Gulf Crossing, about a half-hour drive from Bird Isle. After only five hours of sleep, one jumbo coffee might not be enough.

At Dot’s, a stack of silver mixing bowls sat on the counter. She raised her hands into the air, “Yes!” and organized the cooking area with stirring spoons, measuring cups, and cooling trays before returning to her Jeep for groceries.

“I’ll take that one.” Jack grabbed the bag from her.

“Where did you come from?”

Jack pecked her on the cheek and headed to the restaurant.

“I told you. I don’t need you.” Teddy yelled after him.

“Walt told you to give me a break.” He yelled back, not turning around.

She grabbed another bag and followed him into the restaurant. “Don’t you need to be smoking barbecue somewhere?” She placed the bag on a counter and pulled out a five-pound brick of butter.

“How much are you going to make?”

“Two hundred batches. This will only make about ten batches. Of course, I can double or triple the recipe depending on what kind of pans Dot has in here.” She stopped. “Why am I telling you this?”

“Because you want the benefit to be a success, and you want Bird Isle to get back in business.”

She shrugged. “Dirty pool. Put a little guilt trip on me.”

He pointed to the door. “I’ll just get the rest of the bags from the car.”

Pickles trotted after him, and Teddy blew out three short breaths. She should be happy for the help. The concert meant hope for Bird Isle, and Jack wanted to help.

Jack returned with the bags. “Where do you want these?”

She pointed to an empty chopping block and slapped her hands on her hips. “We need to make some ground rules.”

“I love rules.” He flashed a mischievous smile.

“We are two—”

“Friends?”

“That works. And we have a common goal to make lots of money for the island . . . and me.” She calculated today’s expenses. She would reach her credit card max any day now. That meant she’d be eating beans, rice, and ramen. All the more reason to stay near Jack, he might feed her sometimes. She pushed the thought away. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

“You need money?” Jack asked.

Was he a mind reader now?

“No, I’m fine. I’m going to make a fortune selling fudge at the concert.” Teddy paused. “At least, that’s my vision.”

“Exactly what I’m visualizing for you.” Jack raised a hand to his forehead and pretended to meditate for a beat. “Meantime, if you need a loan—”

“Rule number two: friends don’t lend friends money. It’s a good way to end a friendship.”

“Any other rules?”

“Strictly business.” She moved her index fingers back and forth. “You and me. It’s not a thing. It’s business.”

“I respectfully disagree. Am I allowed to disagree, or is this a dictatorship?”

“You may disagree. But that won’t change anything.”

“We’ll see,” Jack said.

Her phone rang. She checked the name in the caller ID and answered. “Everything okay?”

Pops answered, “I’m checking on you. How was the visit to Houston?”

“I’m taking your advice.” Teddy paused. “To make Sweet Somethings my own.”

“What changed your mind?”

Teddy told him about her change of heart in the Vietnamese restaurant.

“And your fellow . . . what’s his name . . .?”

Pops used a teasing tone. He knew Daniel’s name.

“We decided to take a break.” Teddy noticed Jack scrolling through his phone. “Can I call you later? The barbecue guy is here.”

“That so. Who would that be?”

“Jack Shaughness. You know, the owner of Angie’s Place.”

Jack waved his hand as if to stop her from talking.

“Does he have anything to do with you and Daniel taking a break?”

“Stop it. Jack’s just a friend.”

Jack pouted and put his hands over his heart.

“We’re unloading supplies to make fudge for the hurricane benefit. I’m making two hundred batches of fudge. That’s two hundred pounds of sugar.”

“Did you have to rob a bank to pay for it?”

“No. It’s on my credit card, and before you start in, I won’t take any money from you.”

“You let me know if you need help. And tell Jack I said hello.”

“My grandfather.” Teddy set her phone aside. “He said to say hello. I mean, just joking, like he knew you.”

“A man named Pops, no, can’t say that I know him.”

“You should. He’s a rancher in Llano.”

“That so.” Jack shrugged and looked away. “Perhaps he’s sold beef to our store there.”

“Lots of ranchers in Texas.”

“You said we’re friends .” He emphasized the word friends. “No, my bad, you said just friends .” Jack pouted.

“Business friends.” Teddy held her hands and moved them up and down as if they were two sides of a scale.