Chapter Twenty-One
She didn’t know what to do with herself the next day, waiting for tea again.
Alone in her room, she was so restless she swore sparks were coming off her skin, reflecting on the dark wood paneling.
Mim just wanted to tell her a story. So why did it feel so big and unseen, like the shadow of an invisible giant?
With a lack of anything better to do, she started taking clothes out of the donation bags and holding them up to her in front of the closet mirror. She immediately stopped when she realized what she was doing. She was not going to start trying her old life on again. She knew it didn’t fit anymore.
God, she had to get out of here for a while before she went crazy.
She went downstairs and wrote a note to her dad, then walked downtown to try Mother Hen’s again.
The lights were on today, but the door was still locked.
She looked inside and for the first time saw that the freezer display cases, usually filled with tubs of tea ice cream in wildly improbable flavors, were empty.
A man with scruffy hair the color of beach sand and gold wire-rimmed glasses suddenly emerged from the back.
He was staring at a clipboard, tapping his pencil against it with frustration.
He finally threw his head back and gave what looked to be a groan, before pretending to hit himself in the head with the clipboard several times. He stopped when he saw her.
Mim said yesterday that she wished she had told Bailey about Jack sooner.
Bailey wished that, too. If someone had just shown her there was a right way, a realistic way, moments like meeting this man’s eyes wouldn’t scare her so much.
Because of Clutch, she still believed this feeling of attraction meant her whole world was about to be burned down.
She immediately took a step back, but he was already laughing at what she’d witnessed and walking toward the door to unlock it. “Hi,” he said. “I’m completely normal.”
“I was here yesterday but you were closed. So I came back today, not realizing you were closed closed. Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me. I could use a break. I’m doing inventory.”
“Is this really the end of Mother Hen’s?” she asked. “This place was an institution.”
“So I’ve been hearing. I’m Theo.” He held out his hand, then realized he was still holding the pencil, so he tucked it behind his ear. “Ruby, the owner, was my grandmother. She died a few months ago.”
Bailey shook his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve lived here, but I don’t think I knew her.”
“Welcome to the club.” He took a step back. “Come in out of the cold.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“It’s either that, or I go outside. And I’m not exactly dressed for this weather.
” He indicated his khaki cargo shorts and beige T-shirt that read AUSTIN CITY LIMITS MUSIC FESTIVAL.
Between his monochromatic clothing, hair color, and tanned skin, he gave the impression of having his own internal light source.
“I always thought North Carolina had mild weather.”
Bailey didn’t move. “Hen Town plays by its own rules.”
“I’m beginning to see that. I like this town, but the longer I stay the more it requires a certain suspension of disbelief. It’s like I found my way into a novel.”
He opened the door wider, and she finally entered. The place still smelled of waffle cones—a crisp, brown, sugary scent that instantly catapulted anyone who smelled it into a specific childhood memory. “So you don’t live around here?” she asked.
“No. I live in Austin. I didn’t know my grandmother or Hen Town existed until a few weeks ago.
Ruby apparently bought this place from the original owner when she moved here, and continued serving the same thing from the same recipes.
According to my mother, tea ice cream is exactly the kind of quirk she would’ve been attracted to.
Then again, my mother isn’t an unbiased source of information when it comes to Ruby.
They’d been estranged for decades, which is why I’m here and not her.
I took a leave of absence, and now I’m up to my elbows in tea ice cream during the day.
Then, at night, I’m sleeping in the house of a grandmother I never knew, surrounded by her crystals and incense and prayer flags. ”
Bailey smiled. She liked talkers. “So what’s going to happen with the shop?”
“The building is going on the market, as soon as I can get her affairs in order. There aren’t many affairs.
Not much order, either.” He waved the clipboard.
“There’s a walk-in freezer full of Halloween tea ice cream that I have no idea what to do with.
By the time my mother was tracked down as Ruby’s heir, the power here had already been cut off.
I cleaned out the melted gloop from the display cases, but the freezer has its own backup generator. ”
“Let me guess,” she said. “Blackberry and the Ghost of Earl Grey Tea. Jack-o’-Lantern Pumpkin Chai. And Witches’ Brew Pistachio and Green Tea.”
“You are correct,” he said, like a game show host.
“Those were made exclusively for the Shadow Fair for as long as I can remember. It’s tomorrow, in case you missed the not-so-subtle signage.
” She pointed outside to where city workers were now setting up bales of hay and tables in the park.
“You could sell it all then, assuming you have something to put it in. Paper cups would be easy.”
“I thought I’d just give it away to a local school.” Theo shrugged. “I know my students would go crazy for it. Fun fact: If there’s ice cream anywhere in the building, it renders kids completely unteachable for an entire day.”
“A lot of kids go to the Shadow Fair, since it’s the Saturday before Halloween.
You could give it away then. Do you need a hand?
” He didn’t respond. “I’ve done it all. Waitress, barista, retail.
I think I can figure out scooping ice cream.
” He continued to stare. “Do you need references? I’m a receptionist at a water-resources company right now. ”
“I’m sorry. It’s the short hair,” he finally said with a laugh, as if they’d been having an entirely different conversation.
“What?”
“Nothing. Okay, why not? But as interesting as your work history is, I think knowing your name would probably be more useful.”
“It’s Bailey,” she said. “I’m here visiting my family. It would be nice to have a distraction.”
“Your family, too?” he asked.
“You have no idea.”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Bailey said as she rushed into the house, her cheeks prickling from running through the apple-crisp air.
She hadn’t intended to be gone so long. But her only uncomplicated memories of Hen Town were at Mother Hen’s, and there had been a fleeting moment while they were taste-testing the Halloween flavors that she thought she’d caught a glimpse of that vital thing she’d left behind.
Then she’d noticed the time and jumped up, leaving a startled Theo at the table.
“You’re just in time,” Tug said, waiting for her in the foyer with the tea tray. He had on his half apron and white gloves.
Bailey looked at him strangely. “Why are you dressed like a waiter?”
“I’m trying to be disarming.”
“Would it be okay if I’m away for a few hours again tomorrow?
The grandson of Mother Hen’s owner is here taking care of her estate, and I told him I’d help give out the last Halloween tea ice cream at the Shadow Fair.
If Mim wants me for tea, I’ll definitely work it around that. But I won’t go if you need me.”
“Of course it’s okay. No one expects you to sit here and twiddle your thumbs. And you always loved that place.”
“Are you sure? Home care isn’t easy.” That jab from Tasha, insinuating that she wasn’t doing enough to help her dad, still stung—as was probably Tasha’s intent. Someone who’d spent their entire childhood being called Smeller knew exactly what it was like to be accused of something that wasn’t true.
“The hardest part of caring for your grandmother is getting her to let me do anything, because she can still get around. So I’m engaging in mental warfare. It’s all strategy. Shall we?” he asked, heading down the hallway.
She followed him, then knocked on the door.
“Oh, lord,” Mim said when she saw him. “Do I even want to know?”
“It’s white-glove service.” He set the tray down and began to pour. “Only the best for you.”
“In that case, stop making those ridiculous recipes of my grandmother’s.”
“You mean the ones you never eat?”
“I had more than my share when I was younger.”
“So no jellied chicken salad tonight? Fine.”
Mim narrowed her eyes. “Why is there a bell on the tray?”
“So you can ring for me, of course.”
“You put an intercom in my room, and you make me wear this hideous thing.” She pulled out a necklace chain from her shirt, on which was hanging a small emergency alert button. “Now, a bell.”
“A good butler is always on call,” he said, handing her a cup.
“Go away. Shoo. You’re too full of yourself right now.”
Tug handed Bailey a cup and winked at her before he left.
He had barely shut the door when Bailey sat down and said, “You said your grandmother let you choose your friends. In that photo of the Feathers in your yearbook, Jani Keller was with you. Is she the one who betrayed you? And is that the reason you didn’t want me to be friends with Tasha Keller, specifically? ”
“You’ve been giving this some thought,” Mim said. “Yes. It wasn’t fair to either you or Tasha. But pain takes the path of least resistance, and sometimes that path is right down a family line.”
“I’m sure you’re aware Tasha lives next door now.”
“Strange days,” Mim said around her teacup.
“Was your grandmother really psychic?”
Mim shook her head and lowered her cup to her lap. “She couldn’t see the future. Her skill was in knowing who to ask. There were rumors her own grandmother was the same way.”