Chapter Fifteen
Cora and Jack barreled into The Salty Spoon, practically vibrating with their discovery.
“Guys!” Cora called out, but she froze mid-step, Jack crashing into her from behind. “What the . . .?”
Winston, Aggie, and Bea were already there, but instead of the worried faces she’d expected, they were gathered around a table piled with enough food to feed half the town.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Aggie said, barely looking up from a plate that was loaded with potato salad. “We saved you some food.”
Cora and Jack exchanged confused glances.
“Um, thanks?” Cora said, eyeing a bowl of orange Jell-O. “But where did all this come from?”
Bea grinned, a bit of coleslaw clinging to her chin. “The senior center. Some out-of-town insurance fella came to give a presentation about retirement planning.”
“Let me guess,” Jack said, grabbing a roll and dodging Aggie’s attempt to smack his hand with a plastic fork. “Nobody cared what he had to say, but everyone came, because there was free food.”
“I think half the seniors in town showed up,” Aggie added. “Old Joe Anderson even came, and I was pretty sure he’s been dead for at least a year.”
Winston agreed. “The whole group is one rowdy sneeze away from an emergency room visit.”
Cora nodded at the half dozen plates spread out across the table. “That doesn’t explain how the buffet ended up here.”
Aggie laughed. “When I got your SOS text, I told them we had an emergency. And you can’t very well handle an emergency on an empty stomach.”
Winston offered Cora a deviled egg. “Nobody had the nerve to tell her she couldn’t pack up a few plates to go.”
“But now we’re here,” Bea said, “so what’s your big news?”
Aggie held up a hand. “Hang on,” she said, digging in her purse. She pulled out her little recorder with a flourish, pressed a button, and motioned for them to continue. “Okay, spill. And pass the collard greens while you’re at it.”
“Well,” Cora began, suddenly feeling as if she were back in school, giving a book report in front of the class. “We were at the Gazette, looking through old newspapers, and we found something unexpected.”
Winston beamed, delighted that they’d found something useful in his beloved archives.
“Unexpected like Mayor Thompson in a Speedo on the town’s Fourth of July billboard, or unexpected like Delton Evernight’s toupee?” Aggie asked. “Because I swear I saw that thing scurrying across Main Street last week.”
“Neither of those,” Cora said, fighting back a smile. “It was an engagement announcement.”
Bea’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, was it scandalous? Did someone elope? Was there a shotgun involved? I love it when there’s a shotgun involved.”
“No, it was Lolly’s engagement announcement.”
“Lolly?” Winston said, disappointment crossing his face. “But we’re all aware of her marriage to your grandfather, Cora. That’s hardly news.”
“No,” Jack said.
His hand brushed against Cora’s, sending a jolt through her. “It wasn’t Cora’s grandfather. The announcement was for Lolly’s engagement to Tobias Worthington.”
The silence that followed was so profound, it was as if the world had stopped. Cora could practically hear dust settling on the shelves, like someone had hit the pause button on the entire café.
But then, chaos erupted. Everyone started talking at once with questions and wild theories.
“Tobias Worthington?” Bea squeaked, her voice hitting a pitch that probably had dogs howling three towns over. “The Tobias Worthington?”
“That can’t be right,” Winston muttered. “There must be some mistake. Maybe it was another Tobias Worthington. Or a misprint.” He looked devastated at the thought.
“So let me get this straight,” Bea said, waving a pickle spear toward Cora like an extension of her finger. “Lolly was engaged to Tobias Worthington, had some sort of thing with Jack’s grandfather, and then married your grandpa? Talk about a love . . . square? Pentagon?”
Aggie went pale, her recorder dangling from her hand as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Well, I’ll be darned,” she whispered. “I knew Lolly was popular, but I didn’t think she had so many secret lovers. I’m actually impressed.”
“But why?” Bea asked, her excitement replaced with confusion. “Why would Lolly get married to a Worthington?”
“Well, they’ve got really big . . . wallets.” Aggie snorted.
“We couldn’t find a record of them actually getting married, though,” Jack added.
Bea’s brow wrinkled. “So she broke it off? Why didn’t any of us know about it?”
“I have no idea.” Cora swiped a finger sandwich from the table. “She never mentioned being engaged before my grandpa.”
“I wonder what other secrets she was hiding,” Bea mused.
Winston, ever the voice of reason, adjusted his crooked bowtie. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cora said, frustration bubbling up. “What’s the logical explanation for my grandmother being engaged to Tobias Worthington—whose great-nephew, may I remind you, currently holds a lien on this café that might shut us down at any moment—and none of us knowing about it?”
Winston opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, at a loss. “Well, when you put it that way.”
The room felt like it was spinning. “This is crazy, right?” Cora continued. “We’re talking about Lolly. The woman who once convinced the town council to hold a pie-eating contest instead of a budget meeting because she thought it would get more people to show up.”
“And it worked,” Bea said, a hint of a smile returning to her face. “They had so many people they had to move the meeting to the town square.”
Aggie nodded, misty-eyed. “Lolly wasn’t only a part of Sunrise. She was its heart. If she had secrets, she had good reasons. She always knew what she was doing. So are we going to sit around philosophizing all day, or are we going to figure out what the heck would make her agree to marry a snake?”
And just like that, they were back in action. Theories flew around the room, everything from Lolly being a spy to her having an affair with Elvis, which honestly would have been kind of cool.
“The point is,” Cora said, trying to steer them back on track, “we’ve uncovered this huge mystery about Lolly’s past, and we have no idea what it all means or how it connects to the café.”
The room quieted as they tried to make sense of it.
Then Jack spoke up. “We might be approaching this all wrong. Instead of trying to figure out what Lolly did, maybe we should be asking ourselves what Lolly would do now, to help us figure this out.”
Bea’s face lit up. “She’d start a food fight to cheer us up.”
“You mean . . . like this?” Before any of them was able to react, Aggie flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes across the room.
Time slowed as the potato missile arced toward the door, which had just opened to reveal Nathaniel Worthington, all polished and suited.
The mashed potatoes splattered across his shiny loafer.
Nathaniel’s face went through surprise, confusion, and finally, anger. “Cora,” he said, his voice icy enough that she wanted to grab a cardigan. “We need to talk.”
Cora stood from her seat and gave him her best attempt at a friendly smile. “Nathaniel, what a surprise. What can we do for you? Can I offer you some coffee? Or a slice of pie?”
“Or more mashed potatoes?” Aggie suggested, her tone dripping with faux innocence.
His expression barely shifted as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and brushed the potatoes from his shoe onto the floor. “I was hoping we could have a private chat, Cora. About the future of The Salty Spoon.”
Cora gestured to the group. “We can talk out here.”
Nathaniel’s gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Aggie, Bea, and Winston. It was cool and dismissive, as if Lolly’s friends weren’t worth the effort of a proper acknowledgment.
Then, almost lazily, his attention shifted to Jack. The second their eyes met, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. Nathaniel’s lip curled ever so slightly, like he’d gotten a whiff of something rotten.
“Harlow,” he said, his voice smooth as glass, though it had a bite. He gave a small nod, but there was nothing respectful in it.
Jack didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His jaw tightened, and Cora could practically feel the heat radiating off him.
It was like watching two wolves size each other up, neither willing to back down.
The kind of standoff where one wrong word would set off a fight.
She half expected one of them to start growling.
Or worse, pee on the floor to mark their territory.
“All right, boys,” Aggie’s voice sliced through the testosterone fog like a sharp blade. “How about we all take a step back before someone feels the need to compare the size of their . . . rolling pins?”
Cora had to bite down on a laugh as both men snapped their heads toward Aggie, identical looks of stunned disbelief plastered on their faces. Aggie smiled sweetly, adjusting her glasses.
“Now,” she continued, “Mr. Fancy Pants here was about to tell us why he’s so dead set on turning our beloved café into . . . what’s the plan again? A soulless chain restaurant? Or maybe a fancy storage box for his cash?”
Nathaniel’s jaw flexed, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
He smoothed down the front of his tie, the gesture precise, trying to regain control.
His fingers drummed once against the table before curling into a fist at his side.
“Worthington Properties is in the business of re-invigorating local businesses that need—”
“Cut the crap, Worthington,” Jack interrupted. “Why this place? Why now? There are plenty of other lives and legacies you can trample on. Why Lolly’s?”
Nathaniel’s nostrils flared. His hand tightened on the back of the nearest chair, knuckles whitening as his gaze flicked to Jack.
“It’s just business. Surely you can appreciate that,” he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy.
His eyes flicked to Jack’s dusty boots, lingering there for a beat too long before rising again, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Though I understand how hard it can be when things don’t quite work out. ”
“Look,” Cora said, her voice tight but clear. “I don’t know why your family has its sights set on The Spoon, but I need to understand. Lolly would have never gone into business with you unless she didn’t have a choice. And if there’s something I’m missing, I deserve to know what it is.”
Nathaniel’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. She couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance. But whatever it was, it made her want to throw a biscuit at his smug face.
He took a measured step closer. “Cora, I can appreciate your passion. But this isn’t the time or place for sensitive conversations.”
“You’re dodging,” she said flatly.
“I’m postponing,” he corrected. “Come by my office tomorrow morning. I’ll give you the answers you’re so desperate for. Assuming, of course, you’re ready to hear them.”
Cora resisted the urge to gag. Did he really just say that like a soap opera villain?
“We’ll be there,” Jack said immediately, putting extra emphasis on the we.
Nathaniel’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though he looked more like a cat eyeing its dinner.
“Of course. Shall we say nine a.m.? And Cora?” His eyes locked with hers, and she swore her soul shriveled.
“Try to come with an open mind. You might be surprised by what we can accomplish together.”
As he turned to leave, Bea suddenly piped up, her voice cutting through the tension. “Oh, Mr. Worthington. Would you care for a roll for the road? They’re fresh. We just picked them up at the senior center’s insurance program.”
They all turned to stare at her, blinking.
She smiled innocently. “What? It’s rude not to offer guests refreshments.”
To Cora’s surprise, Nathaniel actually chuckled and took the roll from Bea, tossing it in the air like a baseball, before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cora,” he said over his shoulder, his voice dripping with smugness. “And please don’t keep me waiting.”
The door swung shut behind him, leaving a trail of condescension in his wake.
Cora exhaled, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you offered him a snack, Bea.”
Bea shrugged. “It was the polite thing to do . . . and he’ll never know it fell on the floor before he got here.”
Jack choked. Cora blinked at her.
Bea smiled sweetly. “Five-second rule.”