Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
W hitney pushed open the glass door of Away With Words, hearing the jingle of a bell above her head as she walked into the cozy bookstore. It always smelled like paper and vanilla because Clemmy kept the best candles lit. It was immediately a soothing balm to the tension that she had carried all day. She hadn’t been to the bookstore in a long time. Life at the clinic and the diner didn’t leave her a lot of time for leisure, but today, she needed more than just coffee and fresh air. She needed guidance.
“Well, Whitney Cooper, is that you?” Clemmy’s cheerful voice rang out from behind the counter where she was arranging a stack of new hardcovers. The older woman’s silver hair was bluntly cut in a style that was as fashionable as always. Her glasses were perched on her nose, but of course, they were a vibrant pink color with bedazzled jewels on the ends of the cat-eye shape. She smiled warmly. “I thought you’d forgotten this place existed.”
Whitney smiled, her shoulders relaxing immediately. She loved bookstores. “Hey Clemmy. I’m sorry, I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just been so busy.”
“Busy, huh? Well, then, if you’re here, I bet that you’re looking for more than just a good read.” She stepped out from around the counter, smoothing her blouse as she approached. “What brings you in today, honey?”
Whitney hesitated, her gaze wandering over to the rows of neatly organized bookshelves. She pulled on the strap of her purse before finally looking at Clemmy. “I was kind of hoping you might have something, I don’t know, more practical, like a book about starting a business.”
Clemmy raised an eyebrow. “Well, now this is interesting. What kind of business are we talking about?”
Whitney smiled. “A wellness studio, like for yoga, meditation, nutrition workshops. I’ve been thinking about doing this for years, but lately, it’s really starting to feel like a possibility.”
“Well, I’ll be darned, a wellness studio in Jubilee. You know, that’s exactly what this town could use. Far too many people are eating unhealthy diets. Let me see what we can find.”
Whitney followed her to the section near the back of the store, which had shelves filled with books about business, self-help, and entrepreneurship.
Clemmy’s eyes scanned over the titles as she muttered to herself, her fingers brushing over the spines. “Let me see, let me see,” she said to herself. “Oh, here we go.” She pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to Whitney. “This one is about starting a business on a small budget. You know, practical steps, tips, that sort of thing.”
Whitney looked at the book, reading the title aloud: From Dream to Reality: Opening Your Own Business Without Breaking the Bank. She smiled. “This one actually looks perfect. Thank you, Clemmy.”
“Oh, I’m not done yet,” Clemmy said with a wink. “Now, this one is about wellness businesses. A little more niche, but I think it might give you some ideas for marketing.”
Whitney took the second book and flipped through the pages. “You’re a lifesaver. I really didn’t think I could find anything like this here.”
Clemmy crossed her arms. “Honey, you’d be surprised at what you can find if you know where to look. Now, let me tell you something. Books are only part of the equation. The rest of it comes from here.” She tapped a hand over her heart. “You’ve got to believe in yourself. No book is going to be able to do that for you.”
Whitney nodded, clutching the books to her chest. “I know. It’s just been tough because my dad thinks this is a ridiculous idea.”
Clemmy sighed and leaned against the bookshelf. “Your daddy’s a good man. I’ve known him almost my whole life, but he’s as old-fashioned as they come. You know, he’s used to having things the way they’ve always been, and anything new feels like a threat. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
“I just feel like I’m letting him down. He’s all I’ve had since my mom passed, and I know he wants what’s best for me, but sometimes it feels like he really wants what’s best for him.”
Clemmy put a hand on Whitney’s arm. “I know he wants what’s best for you, sweetie, but sometimes what’s best for you doesn’t look the same to him. You’ve got to go out there and live your life for you, not for somebody else.”
Whitney had heard the same advice from multiple people now. It was hard to believe that it was okay for her to step out on her own regardless of what her father thought. She felt ridiculous for being in her 30s and caring that much about what he thought, but they had been so close since she was a child that it was hard to imagine him not approving of her. “I don’t know how to make him understand.”
“You don’t have to make him understand. He’s the dad. He’s the parent. It’s his job to figure it out, not yours. You have to do what’s right for you, and he’ll come around eventually. But don’t you put your dreams on hold waiting for his approval.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that today.”
“Anytime,” Clemmy said. “Now, are you sticking with these two books, or do you want to browse a little more?”
Whitney laughed softly. “I think this is a good start. I don’t want to get overwhelmed. I’ve got plenty to think about already.”
Clemmy walked her back to the counter and rang up the books. As she placed them in the bag, she leaned forward. “You’ve got something special in you, Whitney. Don’t you let anyone, not even your daddy, talk you out of it.”
“Thanks. It means more than you know.”
“Of course, sugar. Now, go out there and start making those dreams happen because one day you’ll be old like me, and you’ll look back and think about those chances that you wish you’d taken.”
Whitney smiled and left the bookstore feeling lighter than she had in days. She walked down the sidewalk with the cool mountain air brushing against her cheeks and looked at the books in her bag. For the first time, her wellness studio really didn’t feel like a fantasy. Between Tate helping her with a business plan, Madeline encouraging her, and Clemmy finding her the perfect books, it suddenly felt like a real possibility.
* * *
W hitney pushed open the door to the diner, thankful for a little break. It had been another long day at the clinic, but she had agreed to help her father during the dinner rush. Coop always closed the diner down for an hour or two between lunch and dinner to give the kitchen staff time to clean up and prep, but it was unusually quiet today.
She frowned, looking toward the counter where Coop was usually perched with a coffee cup in hand. Today, however, he was sitting at one of the booths instead, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was set, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
Oh, how she knew that look. There were so many times in high school when she had snuck out or done something he found offensive, only to come home and find him sitting just like that in his recliner.
“Hey, Daddy,” she called softly, hanging her purse on the hook behind the counter.
He didn’t look up, just stared at the table in front of him.
Lately, she had been worried about him. His blood pressure had been high again at his last doctor’s appointment, and he kept refusing to take medication.
“Everything okay?” she asked, approaching him cautiously.
“Well, that depends,” he said curtly, finally looking up at her. His expression was hard, and it made her stomach twist.
“What’s going on? Did something happen?”
Coop let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You tell me, Whitney Faith. Anything you want to share?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, standing up, “I had some customers in here today talking about you. Said they saw you over at the cafe having lunch with Tate Morgan. Then another one said they saw you and Tate together at Perky’s having coffee the other day.”
Whitney froze, searching for the right words in her brain but unable to find them.
It had been a mistake to keep this from her father. She was acting like a terrified child. It wasn’t as if he was going to hurt her—he had always been kind and loving, even if he was opinionated.
“Well?” Coop demanded. “Is it true?”
She swallowed hard, realizing there was no point in lying. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve met Tate, and we’ve had coffee and lunch.”
“Apparently,” Coop said, his face reddening. “Why would you go behind my back like that? You know what that man’s doing to my business, to me, and you’re over there breaking bread with him?”
“Daddy, it’s not like that. Tate isn’t trying to hurt you. He’s just running his own business like you are. I don’t understand why you can’t see that. It’s not like he came to Jubilee to ruin Coop’s Home Cookin’. He didn’t even know about this place when he started his business.”
“Don’t you defend him to me,” Coop barked. “I’ve been running this diner for four decades. I’ve seen people come and go, but this guy—this guy is taking my customers, my livelihood, and now he’s got my own daughter on his side.”
“I’m not on his side,” she said firmly. “There are no sides. I’m just trying to figure things out for myself, and Tate’s been supportive.”
“Supportive?” Coop scoffed. “Supportive of just what, exactly?”
She hesitated. “Of my dreams, Daddy. My wellness studio. He’s been helping me come up with a business plan.”
The silence that followed her words was deafening. It felt like a boulder was pressing down on her.
Her father stared at her as if she had just slapped him across the face.
“You’ve been talking to him about that nonsense? Behind my back?”
“It’s not nonsense,” she said firmly, her hands trembling. “It’s something you know I’ve wanted to do for years, and Tate understands. He believes in me.”
“Oh, and I don’t?” Coop shot back, his voice cracking. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Whitney said, her eyes stinging with tears that threatened to fall. “But you don’t support this. You’ve made that so clear. All you care about is me either staying at the clinic or coming to run the diner—doing what you think is best for me. But what about what I want for my own life?”
“What you want?” Coop’s voice rose again. “What about loyalty, Whitney? What about family? I’ve been busting my back, keeping this place going all my life just so you’d have something to fall back on. And now you want to throw it all away for some new-age fad?”
Whitney flinched. “It’s not a fad. It’s my future. I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit your idea of what I should be doing, but I won’t keep living my life trying to make you happy.”
He shook his head, and she couldn’t tell if it was anger, hurt, or a mixture of both that crossed his face.
“You have a lot of nerve saying that to me after everything I’ve done for you.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Daddy. I really do. But I’m not going to put my dreams on hold any longer just because you don’t believe in them.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, tension thick in the air like a Blue Ridge morning fog.
Finally, Whitney broke the silence. “I think I need to leave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep having this same argument with you.”
“Fine,” Coop said, turning away. “You go do whatever you want. Clearly, you’ve already made up your mind.”
The words cut deeper than she expected, but she didn’t reply.
She walked behind the counter, grabbed her purse, and left the diner, the friendly little bell jingling above her head as it swung shut behind her.
The crisp mountain air hit her in the face, but it did little to cool the fire burning in her chest.
She didn’t know how she was going to fix this, but she decided at that moment that it might not be her responsibility to do so.
* * *
W hitney balanced a tray of sweet tea pitchers as she helped set up the community potluck. There were long tables filled with covered dishes already, and the air was filled with laughter and chatter. This was one of her favorite Jubilee events, where everyone came together to share food and quality time. She had even convinced her dad to come, even though she knew he was still brooding about Tate’s cafe and the fact that she was becoming friends with him.
Her thoughts shifted to Tate. She couldn’t stop herself from looking toward the entrance, wondering if he was actually going to show up. She told him earlier in the week about the potluck, and even Brady said he’d invited him, but Tate coming to a town gathering felt like throwing gasoline on an already simmering fire with her father.
Just then, she spotted Tate walking in, balancing two large containers in his hands. He looked around the crowd until his eyes landed on hers, and he smiled. Her stomach did some kind of ridiculous flip that it always did when he was around. She set down her tray and waved him over.
“You made it,” she said, setting down the tray.
“I told you I would,” he said with a grin. “I figured this was a good time to let folks try what I’ve been working on.”
“So what did you bring?” she asked, looking at the containers.
“Vegan chili and cornbread,” he said. “I kept it simple, like you suggested.”
“Well, it smells great,” Whitney said. She pointed at an open space on one of the tables. He set the containers down.
Across the square, she saw her father by the dessert table, his arms crossed, watching her and Tate. His expression darkened.
“My dad’s here.”
Tate followed her gaze and nodded toward her father. “Well, I figured he’d be. Don’t worry, I’m not going to start any trouble.”
She sighed. “I know. It’s not you I’m worried about, but I know him, and he won’t make this easy.”
“Well, then I guess I’m just gonna have to handle it,” Tate said, his voice calm as always. Whitney wasn’t sure what impressed her more, his confidence or his ability to just stay serene when facing Coop’s icy glares.
People began lining up to sample the food. Whitney stayed near Tate’s dishes, interested to see how the town would respond. A couple of people approached hesitantly, ladling small portions of chili into their little styrofoam bowls. Whitney watched as they took bites. Their expressions shifted from cautious to pleasantly surprised.
“You know, this is actually pretty good,” one of them said. “You’d never know it was vegan.”
Tate smiled but remained modest, thanking everyone who tried it. More people came, and his containers were half-empty before he knew it.
Her father, however, did not move from his spot. He seemed determined to ignore Tate’s presence altogether. Whitney wanted to intervene to smooth things over somehow, but she just wasn’t sure how to bridge that gap. But Tate apparently had no such hesitation.
She watched in shock as he walked straight toward Coop, who was standing by a table full of pecan pies. Whitney ran around the corner so she could hear them.
“Mr. Cooper,” Tate said, “I wanted to thank you for coming tonight.”
Coop turned, his expression hard. “Well, I wasn’t about to miss the potluck, now was I? After all, I’ve been in Jubilee my entire life.”
“Of course,” Tate said, unfazed. “I’m glad you’re here, and I wanted to say how much I admire what you’ve built with Coop’s Home Cookin’. It’s very clear how much this town loves your place.”
Whitney held her breath, watching her father’s face. His scowl remained firmly in place.
“You know, you’ve got some nerve,” he said. “Coming here and acting like we’re buddy-buddy when you’ve been taking my customers.”
“I’m not trying to take anything from you, sir,” Tate said. “I think there’s room for both of us in Jubilee. People need comfort food, and they also need healthier options. We both serve the same community.”
Coop’s jaw tightened. “You think you have everything figured out, don’t you?”
“Not at all,” Tate said. “I just want to be a part of the community, not fight against it. I want you to know I respect what you’ve done here. I hope you can respect what I’m doing.”
Instead of saying anything, Coop turned away and crossed his arms, staring off into the distance. Tate quietly walked away, back to the table.
“Well, you tried,” Whitney said softly, meeting him there. “That’s more than most people would have done.”
He nodded. “It’s a start.”