Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
EVERLEIGH
I hunch down on my elbows, looking out of the food truck at my mother who is getting out of her car. Slamming the door shut, she finds my eyes and smiles at me. “Hi,” she says almost breathlessly, her smile filling her whole face from ear to ear.
“Hi yourself!” I shout back at her as she walks to me, but her eyes are on the bakery's window.
“You think you’re funny?” she asks, pointing at the window I made them put up paper on so she wouldn’t be able to see inside.
“You’re early,” I say, looking at my clock and seeing it’s just after one in the afternoon. “I said be here at three.”
“I know, I know.” She bounces on the tips of her feet. “But come on, you have to show me the space.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Two hours isn’t going to kill you,” I tease her and then look up when another car parks behind my mother. Oliver slides out of the driver’s side with a scowl on his face. “Oh, someone is in trouble with Daddy.”
My mother whips her head to me. “Don’t ever call him Daddy again.”
I snort-laugh, pushing up and walking out of the truck at the same time Oliver gets in front of my mother. “We were supposed to have lunch.” He puts his hands on his hips.
“I called and left you a message that I wasn’t coming to that,” she states. “And I texted; it’s not my fault you don’t check your things.” She folds her arms over her chest. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t dying. I would have died.”
“No!” I snap. “Too soon.”
“Okay, fine.” She looks up at the sky before turning to look at Oliver. “I’m busy with my daughter. You can go get lunch at the diner.” She points at the diner, then turns to me. “Now, you can either go in there with me”—she points over her shoulder at the door—“or I’m going in without you.”
“She is so bossy.” I look at Oliver. “How long is she supposed to not work for?”
“Would she listen to me anyway?” He glares at her. “I said you could start light work next week.”
“I’m not working!” she shrieks. “I’m visiting my daughter.”
I put my hand beside my mouth to block it from my mother and aim my words at Oliver. “She glazed some of the donuts this morning.”
“You are going to get it,” my mother warns with her teeth clenched together.
“The last time she told me that, I was eighteen and I laughed at her,” I tell Oliver, “and she took off her shoe and threw it at me.”
She doesn’t even defend herself; instead, she huffs out as she turns to the bakery and storms into it, but Oliver catches her around her waist. “Let her surprise you.”
“No,” she barks, “it’s time for me to see.”
“Fine,” I concede. “Such a child.” I walk over to the door and look back at her, a smile now on my face. “I’m going to film this for social media,” I inform her. “I’m going to go in and then you count to three and then come in.” I step in, turning my phone toward the door. As soon as it opens, I tell her, “Welcome to Maddie’s.” The camera is on her face as she steps in and sees what I did to her shop.
The floors are black-and-white squares, with four white cast-iron tables with matching chairs. The walls are painted a light pink as she walks over to the long white counter with the stainless-steel coffee machine I bought, which is right next to the glass display case. “In the back there”—I point at the built-in shelves I had made that sit behind the counter—“I was thinking we can have some homemade jam or something to sell. There are lots of local vendors that I’ve reached out to who would love to have some shelf space here.” Her hands go to her mouth. “You ready to see the kitchen?”
“I don’t know,” she says, wiping the tears from her face.
I turn the camera to my face. “I think she likes it,” I announce, walking to the back area and turning on the commercial lights we upgraded to. “This is your kitchen,” I say and turn the camera back to her. “We put a big stainless-steel island in the middle so you can work on cookies on one side and then donuts on the other.” I point at the table. “And we thought everything should be against the walls. You have not one but two fridges, so you can get more prepped.” I point at the commercial fridges I splurged on, the four glass doors showing you the empty racks inside. “Then you have your two mixers so you can prep more dough and not do little batches during the day.” I point at the two mixers. “Then we got you two ovens because one is just not enough and then four fryers. You will be frying for a very long time,” I joke with her as I look back at her marveling in what I did.
“This—” she starts. “Turn that off,” she says of the camera, and I raise my eyebrows at her.
“Well, that’s it for Maddie. Tune in for the big grand opening next Monday,” I tell the camera before turning it off.
“Everleigh, this is all too much.” She looks around. “Can we even afford all of this? We haven’t even gotten the insurance money yet.”
“About that.” I take a big inhale and then look over at Oliver, who looks at the ceiling and then braces himself for what is going to come. “The fire chief came in a couple of weeks ago.”
“What?” she asks, shocked. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Well, it wasn’t that good of a visit,” I admit. “The cause of the fire was arson,” I say, and she gasps.
“It’s not a surprise,” she says, “but hearing it officially takes my breath away.” She shakes her head.
“Not only that, he knows we didn’t set it, but he can’t prove someone else set it either.”
“So now what?” she asks. “How did you do all of this?”
“Well.” I brace myself for her to totally go off.
“I gave her the money,” Oliver finally confesses.
My mother turns to face him, her hair whips her in her own face. “I’m sorry. What?”
“The construction was already underway,” he starts, “and to stop it and wait for whatever they were going to say was a waste of time.”
“A waste of time,” my mother repeats his words. “You paid for this?”
“Not just me”—he points at his chest—“Everleigh took out a loan.”
“You what?” My mother turns to me, her voice so loud I squint.
“Okay, before you freak out, can you listen, please?”
“No, you are going to go back to the bank, and we are going to cancel that loan. I’ll take a second mortgage on the house if I have to.”
“You will not do that,” I snap. “This is as much mine as it is yours.” I open my arms to the bakery. “If something happens to you, this, all of this, is my legacy.”
“It’s not your legacy if you pay for it.” She throws her hands up in the air. “A legacy is something that you inherit. Debt is not that.”
“Mom, now that you have more space to prepare things, think of the endless possibilities,” I say. “You can do breakfast and lunch. I’m not saying for you to start cooking. But you can offer bagels, you have a great recipe.” She just stares at me. “You can prepare sandwiches in the morning, and when they sell out, they sell out. There is also the food truck.”
“What am I going to do with that?” She points at the food truck.
“Well—” I smile at her. “We can go to county fairs with it. We can do business events. The possibilities are endless. I even spoke with someone about having it at wedding receptions at night, offering donuts and cupcakes.”
“I can’t do all of that.” She looks up. “I’m not equipped for that.”
“I know you can’t, but I can.” I let out a big exhale as her eyes look at me, shocked. “I know, I know, it was supposed to be temporary.” I put my hand to my stomach, suddenly nervous that I’m making this declaration out loud instead of just playing with the idea in my head. “But what if I want to make this a permanent thing? What if I want to get a slew of food trucks?” I hold up my hand. “That’s not my plan, but who knows. If it takes off, we can have food trucks all over.”
“It’s the big craze these days,” Oliver states with a lightness in his eyes. “I think even one of the big actor guys was caught cooking in the one he bought in New York.” He inhales. “I don’t know about your mom, but I’d like for you to be closer to home.”
My mother looks at him, then back at me. “What about your job?” she asks, and I shrug.
“What if I like doing this more? Creating the donuts was so much fun. Some people might hate working in the food truck, but it was so good to see the same faces over and over again. To ask them how their families were doing. I don’t know, it just made me feel settled.”
“You used to hate that about living here,” she reminds me.
“Yeah, but when you don’t have it anymore, you miss it,” I say the truth. “It was good not having it, but then when you get it back, you realize how much you missed it.”
“Does this have anything to do with Brock?” she asks, and I can answer her with all the certainty in me.
“Part of it, yes.” I smile. “The other part is just me wanting to be here.”
“Does he know?” she asks, and I shake my head. “You two should give communication classes.”
“You are one to talk,” I counter back at her. “It took you, what… fifty years to declare your love for Oliver.”
“I did not declare my love for him.” She holds up her finger. “I said I liked him and we were together.”
“She loves me.” He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to him. “She just has trouble saying the words.” That makes us both laugh.
“We are going to pay you back.” She looks up at him. “No matter what.”
“What difference does it make when we get married? You get half of everything I have anyway.” I put my hand in front of my mouth. “Now that you are starting to work and have the energy, you can plan the wedding.”
“Oh, snap.” I snicker, and my mother just shakes her head, but to everyone’s surprise, she doesn’t say no. “Now that you’ve seen the place, you can get out of my hair.”
“We need to hire more people,” my mother says, and I nod.
“Already have four new ones starting next week,” I inform her, and she gasps. “I’ve been busy,” I say, and she smiles.
“Apparently, I haven’t been paying attention,” my mother notes. I walk out of the bakery and head back to the food truck, leaving her to get used to the new kitchen. I’m about to text Brock when I hear a knock on the side of the truck and look up to see him standing there. “What are you doing here?” I ask him as he steps into the truck with a smile on his face.
“It’s nice to see you too,” he retorts, and I can’t help but laugh as he pulls me to him. It’s been five days since Saige went back to her mom. Five days and we’ve spent every night together. I was surprised I was able to walk on Monday after spending literally all weekend naked. “Don’t forget I have dinner with Saige tonight.” He bends his head to bury his face in my neck.
“Are you excited?” I ask, and he smiles.
“Do you want to come with us?” he asks again, and I shake my head.
“You haven’t seen her all week long,” I point out. “Why don’t you two have dinner, and then I’ll meet you back at your place when you drop her off?”
He looks at me like he has to say something. “Okay.” He kisses my lips. “We’ll talk tonight.” I don’t say anything, not liking his tone, but also knowing he has to get back to work. I don’t have a chance to say anything to him either when my phone rings. I look down to see it’s the local newspaper I called to place a couple of ads this morning. “See you later.”
I nod at him as I put the phone to my ear. “Hello,” I answer, watching him walk back to the shop.
“Everleigh,” the woman says my name. “This is Amy, and I’m calling you from The Town Chronical. I’m interested in doing a story about the bakery in the next issue.” I look down at my hands. “I’m hoping we could sit down and talk.”
“That sounds great,” I say, looking over at the bakery door and seeing my mother walk out with a huge smile on her face. “That sounds really good, actually.”