Chapter 5
Chapter Five
H arper stopped measuring flour, slightly frozen by the news Willa had just shared. “So that confirms it. He’s…our father.”
“Has to be, right?” Willa shrugged. “I mean, how many men named Buck were once married to women named Sharlene?”
Frankie took a seat at the counter and clutched her coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping her together. She stared at the cabinets over Harper’s shoulder, her gaze blank and unseeing.
“Frankie,” Harper said softly, not wanting to startle her sister from her thoughts. “You need a refill?”
It took a second, but Frankie finally looked at her and nodded. “That would be good.”
“Aren’t you guys excited?” Willa asked. “I am. I want to meet him. He’s my grandfather.”
“He’s also a convicted felon,” Frankie said. “And who knows what else.”
“Okay,” Willa said with a curious look at her mother. “But if he did his time, then that’s that, right? By societal standards, he paid for his actions.”
Frankie seemed unconvinced. “I guess.”
Harper didn’t like the direction this was going in. “You know what? If we’re going to meet him, any of us, we agree right now that we don’t do it alone. Okay?”
Frankie nodded immediately. “Yes. Good plan.”
Willa took her coffee over to the couch and sat by Archie, who was lounging on his blanket. “I wouldn’t meet him by myself. That would just be weird.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Harper said. The possibility of meeting her biological father filled her with a curious sense of interest. If she was honest with herself, it was largely due to Sharlene thinking the man was dead.
There was also a part of her that wanted to do something Sharlene wouldn’t like. Harper had this unexplainable need to rebel against her biological mother. It was juvenile and petty, but Harper didn’t care.
She went back to measuring out the dry ingredients, making a slightly bigger batch of pancake batter now that Willa was up. “So what’s the next step? Have you told him about us? We need to be part of this, Willa.”
Willa nodded. “I know. All I asked him was if he was once married to a woman named Sharlene, many years ago. He said he was and asked me why I wanted to know. I haven’t answered him yet.”
Frankie spoke up. “I don’t think you should. We need to be smart about this.”
Willa rested her feet on the big coffee table in the center of the seating area. “I’m the one who started the conversation. I have to say something to him. I can’t just ghost him now.”
“How about if I take over,” Harper offered. “Willa, ask him for an email address and tell him an explanation will be forthcoming.”
Willa frowned. “I don’t really use the word forthcoming.”
Harper shot her niece a look. “You know what I mean. Once you have the email, send it to me and your mom and I will put a letter together. Okay?”
Willa nodded. “I can do that.” She started tapping away at her phone screen.
“Thanks,” Harper said. She was oddly excited about talking to Buck. Even if he was a bank robber. Shar had said one of the security guards had gotten shot, but she hadn’t said the man had died. Or that Buck had been the one who’d done the shooting.
More than anything, Harper wanted to know the whole story. If working with celebrities had taught her anything, it was how easily the truth could be slanted. The old saying that there were two sides to a story wasn’t really true. There were actually three, the third one being the truth.
She could probably research the crime, see what records or reports she could find, but that still wouldn’t give her Buck’s side of things.
When Willa finished tapping, she got up and came into the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” Harper answered.
“With fresh strawberries,” Frankie answered as she got up from her spot at the counter. “Which I need to get cleaning and slicing.”
“Can I have chocolate chips in mine?” Willa asked. “Since we’re going all out.”
Harper smiled. “Sorry, kiddo. There are no chocolate chips in this house.”
“Seriously? I know you like to eat clean and all that but no chocolate chips is just unnatural.”
Amused, Harper just shook her head. “Nope. Sorry. Joyce probably has some. You could always run next door and ask her.”
Willa got a curious smile. “Over to Mitch Ripley’s house.”
“That would be the one,” Harper said. “But he’s probably working, so if you go over there, be quick and quiet.”
“What your aunt said,” Frankie added.
“Maybe I should just text Joyce,” Harper said. “See if she has chocolate chips to begin with. Come here, Willa. Stir this all together while I text her.”
Willa did as Harper asked, coming behind the counter to work on the batter.
Harper sent Joyce a message. Morning! Any chance we could borrow a small amount of chocolate chips? Making pancakes and Willa wants some .
The reply followed quickly. I do have some. Milk chocolate, semi-sweet, or white chocolate? I can bring them right over.
Harper smiled. “Willa, milk chocolate, semi-sweet, or white chocolate?”
Willa blinked. “I didn’t realize there would be a choice, but then Joyce is the OG of baking. I think I’m going to get crazy and say white chocolate. That might be good with strawberries.”
Harper sent the answer back. White chocolate just for something different.
Be there in a jiff , Joyce responded.
“She’s on her way.”
Sure enough, not even five minutes later, the bell rang, announcing Joyce at the front door.
“I’ll get it,” Willa said. She ran down the steps, coming back up with Joyce.
She gave them a bright smile. “Hello, you gorgeous women. Pancakes, is it? How fun. I brought a half-cup of each kind, just in case.”
Willa was all smiles. “Joyce, I love you and I’m not even kidding. You’re the best.”
Joyce handed over the baggies of chocolate chips. “Well, that’s my day made.”
“Thank you so much,” Harper said. “Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?”
“Coffee would be lovely.”
“Have a seat. I’ll get it for you.”
Joyce settled in at the counter. “I have some news to share.”
“Oh?” Frankie rinsed the strawberries, giving the strainer a good shake to get rid of the excess water. “What is it?”
“My sister is coming to visit.”
“All the way from England?” Willa asked.
Joyce nodded. “Indeed. Mitch is paying for her flight, too. Isn’t that just splendid?” She looked at Harper. “You’ve been so good for that man.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with him doing that, but that’s amazing. Very generous.” Harper set a cup of coffee in front of Joyce, adding the container of creamer and a little dish of sweetener packets.
“I couldn’t be happier. I haven’t seen her in years.” Joyce picked out two of the sugar packets and added them along with a splash of creamer. “What’s new with all of you?”
Before Harper could answer, Willa chimed in. “My mom and aunt met their biological mother yesterday and pretty soon, they might be meeting their father. Their mother said he was dead, but I found him online.”
Joyce’s eyes narrowed. “I might need a little more explanation than that.”
Frankie, who was about done slicing the strawberries, looked up. “We met Sharlene, our biological birth mother, yesterday but it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. When the subject of our father came up, she said her parents had told her years ago that he’d been killed in a car accident. But Willa did some digging and, apparently, that wasn’t true. He’s still alive. Or so we believe.”
Harper had the griddle out and heating up. She added a few slices of butter to it. “We need to do a little more investigating, but it seems either she lied to us or her parents lied to her.”
Joyce sipped her coffee, her gaze ponderous. “Could have been her parents. Trying to protect her. Parents do such things, you know. Then again, she might not want you to talk to him. Especially if her story and his story don’t line up.”
Harper tapped her nose. “Exactly what I’m thinking.” The butter sizzled. She added ladles of batter to the griddle. “Joyce, you want to stay for breakfast?”
“Oh, no, but that’s so kind of you. I’ve got to get back. Lots to do at the house. And at the guest house to get ready for Beryl. That’s my sister.”
“How soon is she coming?” Frankie asked.
Joyce grinned. “Three days from now. Himself didn’t mind the cost, but I found a last-minute deal and my sister’s got no obligations, so why not?”
Willa came over and sat at the counter next to Joyce. “Is she as good a baker as you are?”
Joyce laughed. “Oh, my days, compared to Beryl, I have no right to even be in the kitchen. Baking was her profession. Don’t worry. I’ll get her to whip up a few things. Her Victoria sponge would make Mary Berry weep. And her Bakewell tart…divine.”
Willa laughed. “I don’t know what those things are, but I am certainly willing to try them.” She looked at her mother. “Do you think it’s all right if I stay a little longer? I’d hate to miss out on such a cultural experience.”
Harper laughed, knowing Frankie would like nothing more than additional time with her daughter. “It’s not really up to me.”
Frankie was all smiles now, her earlier funk gone. “Willa, as far as I’m concerned, you can stay as long as you want. I know you have to get back to school at some point, but until that time comes, you’re welcome here.”
Willa let out a little whoop of happiness. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”
Archie stood up on the couch and woofed, tail wagging for all it was worth.
“See?” Harper said as she started to flip the pancakes. “Even Archie thinks that’s a great idea.”
But she had a feeling that Willa’s desire to stay had more to do with meeting Buck than anything Joyce’s sister might bake. Either way, it would be great to have Willa around longer.
Harper just hoped Buck wasn’t the massive disappointment that Shar had turned out to be.