21. Dolly
21
DOLLY
“No more steak and eggs?” Judge Robinson asks, looking up at me quizzically from the hastily printed out new menu that I shoved in page protectors at o’dark-thirty this morning.
Despite knowing this man all my life and serving him breakfast multiple times a week—and countless other meals—I can’t tell if there’s judgment to his voice or if he’s truly confused. There’s been a bit of both this morning from the ROMEOs, so it could go either way.
“You’ve never ordered steak and eggs, Judge,” I comment, trying to keep my sass to a cute and fun level rather than a you have to be fucking kidding me level.
No one has ever ordered the steak and eggs…
And I mean, no one. To the point where I stopped ordering the steak required to have on hand to fulfill such an order more than a year ago. Much to Hux’s disappointment, since it meant he didn’t get a steak once a week so that I didn’t have to toss it.
Shifting my weight, I let out my breath, the one I’m holding on to for no good reason, waiting to see if the judge is going to comment about how he “just liked looking at it on the menu” or something to that effect, like a couple of the others have. I know change is hard, and some of these gentlemen have been eating here since Grandma Dolly opened the place, so I suppose I can’t complain too much about them giving me a little lip about it.
As long as that’s where it ends.
“Has anyone?” Judge counters.
“Not since I’ve been in charge.”
He nods, a sneaky smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Good call then. Your grandmother put it on there because it was my predecessor’s favorite, and with your grandfather over the farm bureau at the time, she figured he might need to call in a few favors every now and then.”
I chuckle, shaking my head, because that’s exactly the way Grandma Dolly would think. The one part of Judge Robinson’s story that doesn’t fully check out though is the motivation being Grandpa Charlie’s job. Sure, being head of the farm bureau in a rural, ag town in middle Georgia meant you needed to be in good with the local authorities. But when you and your wife were your generation’s town teenage troublemakers, who then raised two more, you know how to talk your way out of said trouble.
Apparently steak and eggs was it.
At least I come by my love of mischief honestly…
“Biscuits and gravy?” I ask, keeping my commentary on my family’s history to myself. I don’t need to admit to more than necessary here. That was something else Grandma Dolly taught me. Right before the first time I was called in front of Judge Robinson.
“You know me so well.”
I do. To the point where I question why I ask him for his order. I should just bring it to him when I see him sit down. Much like Mr. Hovland, who is currently walking through the front door.
“One order of biscuits and gravy,” I say, looking at the judge, then turn to the retired pharmacist. “And three eggs sunny side up—extra sunny—coming right up.”
Turning on my heel, I head to the kitchen, getting their orders in to Nico, a little more relaxed than earlier. The new menu was a surprise to everyone this morning, and to say I caught them off guard would be an understatement. Had I thought through this a little more, I probably should have chosen a Tuesday or Thursday—a morning when the ROMEOs are a little lighter in numbers—to make its debut. But other than a few comments from long-timers, mostly out of opposition to change in general, the reception of a new menu has been positive.
A relief if there ever was one.
More than that, it’s a step forward. One where I get to leave all that crap with Jeff behind me. Much like the old menu, full of items and dishes that no one ordered and sat there collecting dust, my time with him is something of the past.
Were there good times? Sure. But there were plenty of not good ones too. And the good ones weren’t worth clinging to for no reason. Not when all other indicators were pointing to it being time for a new direction.
Turning my focus to the kitchen, I let my staff do their thing. That’s why I have them after all. I, on the other hand, have a couple of new recipes I need to try out still. Some new lunch items I want to attempt to force on some unsuspecting volunteers today to see if they might be something we want to showcase next weekend for the Memorial Day parade and picnic.
“Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?”
And that’s my cue.
Without even looking, I know it’s seven forty-five, give or take five minutes, the familiar voice asking the same question at the same time every Friday morning. Something I can set my watch by. A voice that up until earlier this week, I’d never given a second thought to, and if I’d been asked would have said was harmless.
That is, until he apparently decided to exercise power he shouldn’t hold.
Well, two can play this small-town game.
“They are,” I answer almost automatically, plastering on the biggest smile I can.
Seth Jennings smiles back, and for the first time since we were kids—and maybe ever—I really look at him. Average height with sandy-colored hair and brown eyes, he’s the kind of guy that would probably get lost in the crowd if you weren’t looking for him. Hell, maybe even if you were. His faded T-shirt is clean at the moment, but I give it an hour before it’s stained with something, a hazard of the job as town plumber. As are the jeans that are sagging on his hips thanks to the weight of his toolbelt.
Nothing about him strikes me odd, or even nefarious. Seth could be the poster child for your average rural, small-town, blue-collar guy. The most surprising thing about him was when he ran for the open spot on the town council. And I use the word ran here lightly—it was more like he volunteered. No one else tossed their hat in the ring, and he was unopposed on the open ballot for that special election.
What the hell does he have against giving Hux the permission he needs?
“I’ll take a half dozen, please.”
“Not so fast. Park it.”
I harshly point to one of the stools on the other side of the counter, letting him know that I mean business. Eyes wide, the fear of God now flowing through him, Seth does exactly that, ass hitting the stool so hard it screeches as it shifts across the floor.
“I…I didn’t do it?”
It comes out as a question, his strangled defense already not off to a strong start. I don’t know if it’s a good sign or not that he doesn’t have any idea what this could be about. On the one hand, it’s not like even I know what I’m defending here, but on the other, in this town you’d have to be living under a rock to think I’m not going to be on Hux’s side. No matter what.
“See, that’s not what I hear.” I look down at him, waiting on him to reply, but he doesn’t. “You voted against Hux’s proposal?”
“Oh, that.” He relaxes, crossing his arms. “That I did.”
“What the hell, Seth?”
Okay, now I’m pissed. Because this nonchalance that is suddenly radiating off him is bullshit. Who does he think he is? I’m a firm believer in “everyone is important,” but he’s the plumber for cryin’ out loud. If there is anyone in this town who isn’t royalty, it’s Seth Jennings. Even if he is now on the town council.
“It’s not a good use of town funds, Dolly. And I before you say it, yes, I do realize that Hayes would pay the majority of it, but some of it would still have to come from the town, and I think we can find better uses for that money.”
Do you now…
“Such as?”
He’s been at this job for less than a year. There is no way he has any idea what’s best for Hickory Hills. Especially if the entire rest of the council is for this. If ever there was a tightwad, it’s Rick Babcock, the town treasurer, and he voted in favor. So I don’t buy for one single second that’s the reason.
“Does it matter?” He shrugs.
The move is so cold, so unlike him. Almost as if it’s practiced, pretty much solidifying that something else is going on here. That this isn’t about Hux. Or about whatever it is that he is proposing.
“Seth, what’s really going on here?”
“Look, I get that you two are weirdly joined at the hip and so you’re blindly loyal to him and that family, but I promise you, this isn’t something Hickory Hills needs.”
For fuck’s sake, who died and put him in charge?
“Yet, somehow, you’re the only member of the town council who thinks so,” I snap, unable to hold back. “So, tell me, Seth, what makes the town plumber think that he knows better than the rest of the group? Huh?”
Narrowing his eyes at me, Seth leans forward. “Because I’m not blinded by Hayes money.”
I reel backward, his answer slamming into me like one of those large foam battalions from an obstacle course. Blinded by Hayes money . He acts like Auggie and the boys are out here bribing the town left and right, leaving a trail of corruption and lies in their wake. And maybe in some small towns that’s the way it is. But not here in Hickory Hills.
“You’re blinded by something,” I mutter, keeping the part about it being stupidity in my head. Something that takes an incredible amount of self-control.
“Dolly, if you?—”
“Nope.” I hold up my hand, stopping him right there. “I don’t wanna hear it, Seth. Whatever your reason, and it seems you’ve got one, it’s yours, and yours alone. Just know, this won’t be forgotten. In fact, I suggest you find someplace else to satisfy your pastry requirements. Try Oh, My Lard! Alice may choose to be more forgiving.”
I force the most saccharine smile I can, laughing diabolically inside. The chances of Alice being more forgiving once she learns what Seth did are slim to none—although she’s also more likely to try to put salt in his coffee rather than refuse to serve him. On top of that, she doesn’t make cinnamon rolls regularly, only when the whim hits her, and she doesn’t open until ten, well after when he would be trying to stop by.
Not all heroes wear capes, I suppose…
“You can’t do that,” he scoffs.
“Oh, but I can.” Defiance rises up in me. No one tells me what I can and can’t do. “You see, I am the owner of this establishment, and it’s my discretion who we serve.”
Five-dollar words fly out of my mouth so fast I’m almost not sure it’s me who is saying them. Sure, I jokingly threatened to cut him off when I was talking to Hux the other night, but I hadn’t meant it. Then again, that was before. When I thought that I could get him to change his mind simply by reminding him that we’re a community and that we work together, not against one another. Before he’d uttered the phrase blinded by Hayes money.
“Do you even know what he’s trying to build? Or are you supporting him just because?”
“I don’t have to know, Seth. Because I know him . Which means I know he’s trying to better this town. That he’s doing this for Hickory Hills, not himself. Because he believes in this community and making our little corner of the world a better place. And that’s all I need to know.”
“Right,” he huffs out a disbelieving breath as he leans forward on the counter. “And I’m sure that’s exactly what Ewan was doing too when he bought my granddaddy’s shop and gave it that obnoxious name.”
He turns away, muttering something else quietly. So quietly I almost miss it. But I catch the one key word.
Maisey.
Bingo…
A light bulb goes off, the little ding pinging in my brain right along with it. This isn’t about Hux. Or about whatever it is he wants to build. I’d bet it’s barely even about Ewan.
Nope. This is about Maisey.
Stepping forward, I rest my hands on the counter. I don’t know whether or not I should be proud that my cousin is causing trouble from the other side of the world that she doesn’t even know about.
“The Booby Trap was Maisey’s idea,” I say, softening my voice, making sure he hears the understanding in it.
Seth whips his head up, eyes wide. He wasn’t expecting that answer. His eyes search mine, and I nod, smiling gently.
“Couldn’t be. He didn’t buy it until after she left.”
I sigh, trying to figure out how to explain this. The last thing I want to do is contribute to the rumor mill, putting this story out there. But he needs to know the truth. And if it helps get Hux his approval, I’m sure Ewan won’t mind.
I’ll also beg forgiveness via some chicken and dumplings.
“The summer in between high school and college, Ewan competed in some big deep sea fishing tournament down in Miami. A bunch of us went down to support him and have a little fun in the sun, so one night we’re looking for a place to go to dinner and we pass what is very clearly a strip joint, big neon flashing sign, called the Booby Trap.”
“Exactly my point.”
I hold up my hand, telling him to hold on. “Hux and I immediately laughed, because on top of it, the building had these two spherical shapes with nubs on the domes. But Maisey, she took one look at it and went ‘that’s a dumb name for a strip joint. It would make a lot more sense as a hunting store.’ By the time we’d finished dinner, she’d basically laid out an entire store full of hunting, camping, and fishing gear, and was well on her way to creating a business plan for it as well. She figured she would get everyone in because of the name, then talk them into what they needed.”
I laugh, trying to imagine Maisey trying to sell anyone a gun. Girl could barely hold one.
“First thing Ewan did when he bought the shop was add on that addition, and then rearrange it to match the layout she’d sketched out at that dinner. She’s the reason that store is thriving.”
“Still didn’t bring her back.”
“Nope…”
If I’m the family wild child, Maisey is the family free spirit. The one no one can tame. Ewan came close, I think. That’s part of why it still stings every time someone mentions her name.
“Seth, you can’t hold it against Ewan, or the rest of his family, that Maisey left.” I reach out, resting my hand on his. “In the words of Patrick Swayze, she’s like the wind, that one. And yes, Ewan bought your grandfather’s shop and gave it a semi ridiculous name, but he’s kept it open and made it thrive and honors his legacy in a lot of ways. All of which, by the way, has nothing to do with Hux’s request.”
He glares at me, his nostrils flaring as he exhales roughly. “Do I get my cinnamon rolls if I agree to change my vote?”
Standing up straight, I pretend to think about it for a moment. Truthfully, I’m trying to figure out how much I trust him. Dirty little bird did try and withhold town funding because he was butthurt over a girl.
“Prove to me that you’re going to walk in to tomorrow morning’s meeting and reverse the decision, and yes.”
In the blink of an eye Seth has his phone in his hands, thumbs flying across the screen. I do a double take, not sure I’ve ever seen anyone move that fast, even the teenagers who stumble in on weekends and barely look up from their devices. Next thing I know, he’s turning the screen around to show me his sent text to Mayor Barbour expressing his desire to revote on the Hayes proposal as tomorrow morning’s first agenda item.
My heart leaps, the rest of me feeling as light as the meringue on one of Alice’s pies. We did it. Hux is going to get his money. Project stars or whatever it is will be full steam ahead as of noon tomorrow. I can’t wait to tell him.
No. I need to keep this to myself. Let him get the call from the mayor or whomever himself. I’ll see him tomorrow afternoon anyway, so I’ll let him tell me then. Keeping this to myself might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done though.
“Let me get you those rolls.”