Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Still, trying to act like the caring head of the family, Jax?”
Jaxon glanced up from the flour he’d been measuring and saw Poppy standing in the doorway of the kitchen wearing baggie pajama bottoms with the Disney dwarfs printed all over them and one of her signature tank tops.
Her hair hung over one shoulder in a messy braid, her bangs sticking up in all directions.
He went back to measuring the flour. “Just making breakfast.”
She pulled out a barstool from the island and flopped down. “I can make my own breakfast, thank you very much.”
Jaxon nodded and dumped the flour into a bowl. “I’ll be sure to keep my pancakes to myself.”
“What kind of pancakes?”
“I was thinking chocolate chip.” Poppy’s favorite.
She picked at the blue polish on her thumbnail. “Well, since you’re going to all the trouble, I guess I could choke down a few.”
He bit back a smile. Poppy had choked down her fair share of his cooking in the last two weeks. Since Jaxon thought it was best to keep his siblings as far from the townsfolk as possible, he had taken to cooking all their meals here at the house.
And loving every second of it.
Not only because he loved being back with his siblings, but also because cooking had always been his therapy. The one activity that cooled his temper, soothed his pain, and forced him to breathe. When life became too much, he had always found serenity in a kitchen.
Especially in this kitchen.
While Jaxon hated Honky Tonk Heaven, he loved his family home.
The house was a one-story monstrosity with additions jutting out on the sides and back like wagon wheel spokes.
Every time Mama got pregnant, Daddy would add another addition.
He thought it was important that each of his kids had their own space.
He also thought a house should have a big kitchen.
Rory Hennessy had loved to cook as much as he’d loved to gamble and drink.
On the occasional nights when he wasn’t out of town for some poker tournament, you could find him in the Hennessy’s country kitchen making delicious meals for his family—usually recipes from the Irish cookbook his mama had left him when she passed.
He’d gather all his kids around the butcher-block island and turned the kitchen into his own cooking show.
Wielding a whisk like a magician, he’d call up Jaxon and his siblings to help as if they were lucky audience members.
His daddy had never cared if they spilled flour or left eggshell in the batter.
He’d just make some joke about not crying over spilled flour or adding extra crunch.
But that was his daddy. He was as daring as Dawson. As charming as Huck. And as outrageous as Poppy.
He had turned everything into something wild and fun and special.
Which probably explained why he was the only one who could get Rosie away from Honky Tonk Heaven. When he was home, she would always be here for supper.
The entire family would gather around the dining room table and eat cottage pie or Irish stew with soda bread or corn beef and cabbage while his daddy would regale them with stories of his life on the poker circuit.
They were some wild stories. Like any good Irishman, his daddy tended to stretch the truth for a good laugh.
And his daddy had made them laugh.
He’d made them laugh right up until he’d run his car off the road and died.
Jaxon had been thirteen at the time and he could still remember the crushing pain he’d felt when Mama had given them the news.
Still, remember Dawson yelling at Mama that she was lying and running from the room.
Huck standing there silently crying. And Poppy, who had only been five, looking at him with eyes filled with confusion.
“Daddy’s not coming back, Jax?”
Then seven years later, Jaxon hadn’t come back either.
He looked at his sister. “I’m sorry, Pops. I was wrong to leave you.”
She shrugged. “I’m over it.”
If the way she’d been closing him out was any indication, or the songs he heard her singing in her bedroom at night about never trusting men, it was a lie. But he kept that thought to himself and lifted an egg out of the carton.
“Ladies and gentleman, I would like to present to you an ordinary egg.” He tossed the egg into the air and gently caught it. “But if cracked properly this ordinary egg will produce a golden yolk of perfection.” He held out the egg. “Would you like to demonstrate, beautiful young lady?”
Poppy stared at him for a long moment, making him wonder if she’d been too young to remember Daddy’s cooking shows. But then a sparkle entered her eyes and she smiled softly. “He was always such a goof, wasn’t he?”
“Always . . . but especially for his Princess Poppy.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away as she took the egg.
“Why, I would love to demonstrate. I just need a hard surface.” She leaned over the island and cracked the egg on Jaxon’s head before opening it into the bowl.
Her eyes twinkled when she looked back at him.
“You’re right, kind sir. That was perfection. ”
He stared at her in stunned shock for only a second before he tipped back his head and laughed.
Surprisingly, Poppy joined in.
“What’s so funny?” Huck appeared in the doorway, his hair shooting out in all directions and his eyes sleep droopy.
Before either Poppy or Jaxon could answer, he looked at the mixing bowl on the counter.
“Please tell me whatever’s in that bowl is going to turn into pancakes.
” When Jaxon nodded, he let out a whoop and flopped down next to Poppy. “I get the first flap!”
Less than thirty minutes later, all the Hennessys were seated at the island eating pancakes and doing what they did best. Arguing.
“Don’t you dare take that last pancake, Huck. It’s mine!” Poppy went to fork the last pancake, but Huck beat her to it and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth, his eyes twinkling over his puffed out cheeks. “You gluttonous baboon!” Poppy yelled.
“She does have a point, Huckleberry,” Dawson said. “You are a glutton. You had twice as many pancakes as anyone else.”
Huck swallowed the pancake. “Oh, you should talk, Dawg. You barely finish with a girl before you’re onto the next. I’m a glutton for food, but you’re a glutton for sex. Which is worse?”
Dawson’s eyes darkened and Jaxon quickly stepped in. “Y’all know the rules. No fighting at the table. Now did you finish with the budget, Dawson? How’s it looking?”
“Not good.” Dawson pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen.
“With the quotes Poppy got from the electrician, plumber, window guys, HVAC, and flooring companies, we’ll have negative eleven thousand twenty-eight dollars and thirty-two cents left in the account.
That doesn’t include any of the quotes Poppy is getting for the mahogany bar, bar equipment, furniture, and glassware.
Nor does it include hiring bartenders and servers.
” He looked up from his phone. “So, basically, we’re screwed. ”
Jaxon felt the pancakes he’d eaten rising up to the back of his throat. He knew there was going to be a deficiency. He just didn’t realize it would be this much. “I guess no one has a little savings they could chip in until we finish the bar and get the inheritance?”
“If we finish the bar and get the inheritance,” Dawson said. “And I have a little savings. When I say little, I’m talking about a couple thousand. That’s not going to make a dent.”
Jaxon glanced at Poppy and she shrugged. “I loaned some money to Wylynn, I could see about getting that back.”
Huck snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that loser still has that handy.”
Poppy slapped his arm. “Shut up, Huckleberry. He’s not a loser. I told him he could use the money to help promote our band. Once we get a record deal, I’ll get it back with interest.”
Jaxon doubted it. From the stories Poppy told, her boyfriend sounded like a loser. Something Jaxon planned to keep to himself.
“Okay, well, I guess our only choices are to get a loan or call it quits.”
“Hey,” Huck said. “You didn’t ask me if I had any money.”
Jaxon tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have money, Huckleberry?”
Huck sighed. “I would have if my investment in that hands-free fishing reel had panned out.” Huck was always losing his money in some bizarre get-rich scheme.
Like their daddy, he liked to gamble, but he wasn’t a quitter.
“I’m not calling it quits.” He looked around the table.
“We can do this. Look how much we’re already done without any help from anyone.
We cleaned out all the rubble from the fire and framed the interior walls. ”
“Jaxon and I framed the interior walls,” Dawson said. “You and Poppy can not be trusted with a nail gun.”
Huck grinned. “Now don’t be holding grudges, Dawg. I didn’t mean to shoot you and the nail came out of your leg clean as a whistle with hardly any blood.”
“I did mean to shoot you, Jax,” Poppy said. “I forgot you’re made of cold marble.”
Huck laughed. “That nail did bounce right off your butt, Jax. It was the funniest thing I ever saw.”
Jaxon sighed. “What’s not funny is our lack of money. So what’s the vote? Do we stay the course or quit?”
“Stay!” Huck raised his hand.
Poppy nodded. “Stay.”
Dawson took his good sweet time voting. “Stay, but only if we can figure out how to get more money. I refuse to spend one more drop of sweat on Honky Tonk Heaven until we have enough money in the account to complete the renovation and reopen.”
“Fair enough,” Jaxon said. “If we can’t get a loan, it’s a moot point anyway. I’ll head to the bank today.”
Poppy looked at him. “And you think you’re the good choice for getting a loan when everyone in town still thinks you robbed the gas station?”
Huck nodded. “She does have a point, Jax. Maybe one of us should go to the bank.”