Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Done. Pie number twenty-four, baked and ready to go.
Well, almost. The sweet aroma of baked molasses and cinnamon enveloped her as she slid the shoofly pie onto the cooling rack.
The golden crust and buttery crumb topping looked perfect.
Tisha pulled off her oven mitts, dropped them onto the stainless-steel counter, and did a dance.
Yeah, okay, so she was the only one here in the café after hours celebrating her sweet victory, but she’d pulled it off.
She’d done what had seemed almost impossible and made twenty-four pies for the festival.
She checked the time on her phone. Six fifteen.
Yikes. She’d planned to meet Ethan and the kids outside the community center fifteen minutes ago.
A knock sounded on the back door. She hurried across the kitchen, out into the corridor, and pushed the door open.
Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest when Ethan smiled at her from the other side.
“Hey,” he said, holding the door as Brody and Sadie crowded the space beside him. “All set?”
“Mommy!” Sadie waved. “Are you done baking?”
“All done,” Tisha said. “I’m sorry I’m running late. You want to come in for a second?”
Brody took a deep breath. “Whoa, that smells like sugar.” He pushed past her, then turned in a circle. “Hey, I’ve never been in here.”
Ethan clamped his hand on Brody’s shoulder. “Please don’t touch anything.”
“I’m thirsty, Mama. Do you have any drinks?”
“Why don’t we walk over to the festival?” Ethan said. “I saw a hot-cocoa stand. And I’m sure there’s plenty of water and juice boxes.”
“Ooh, hot cocoa. Yum.” Sadie clapped her gloved hands together. “Is it your mama’s hot cocoa?”
Ethan chuckled. “I don’t know if it will be the same as what the resort offers. We’ll have to see. Are you ready, Tisha?”
“Yes. I just brought my last pie out of the oven, and the ones I baked ahead are thawing. Let’s go.”
She slipped on her jacket and hat and tucked her phone in her pocket. Then she followed Ethan and the kids outside. After double-checking to make sure the door was locked, she pulled it shut.
“Bring on opening night.” She grinned at Ethan, then herded the kids away from the café.
“Oh, excuse me.” Mrs. Dawkins stepped into their path. “Would it be possible for me to use the restroom?”
“I’m sorry, we’re not open right now,” Tisha said.
“Oh, but those porta potties are just unsanitary, and I don’t have it in me to hike all the way to the community center.” Mrs. Dawkins’s expression puckered. “No exceptions for loyal customers?”
“We can wait,” Ethan said. “It’s fine.”
“But I need hot cocoa,” Sadie said. “ASAP.”
Tisha gave her daughter a pointed look. “The hot cocoa isn’t going anywhere. We can be kind and let Mrs. Dawkins use the restroom.”
She pulled her keys out and unlocked the back door. “I’ll just wait right here.”
A light snow had started to fall, and Ethan and the kids tried catching snowflakes on their tongues.
Tisha couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, Sadie and Brody had to make it a competition, arguing about who caught the best snowflake.
Bless Ethan for staying in the game, refereeing their dispute and not getting aggravated.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Dawkins came out of the bathroom and met Tisha in the doorway. “You know, I haven’t had a chance to tell you that I’ve really appreciated all the joy you’ve brought to Redemption.”
“Me?” Tisha pressed her gloved hand over her chest. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, you’ve made it fun to come here and enjoy some pie and coffee.
It’s a gift. And you listen without judging, and try to make people’s day by serving them something as simple as pie that they’ll enjoy.
Have you considered a career in counseling?
Not that I don’t want you to serve pie, because I would miss you if you left. ”
Words failed her. Had their most finicky customer just given her praise? Tisha studied her. “I did major in psychology, and I have considered getting a master’s in counseling, but my future’s kind of up in the air to be honest.”
“Well, give it some thought. I believe God’s going to use you in a big way.”
Um, not sure about that. Tisha offered a smile, then ushered her out the door. “I hope you enjoy the festival.”
“You too, dear.” Mrs. Dawkins walked slowly across the parking lot. Tisha locked the door to the café again, and they walked around the building, then onto Main Street.
“I don’t know that these two need any more sugar,” she said to Ethan as Brody and Sadie hopped and skipped and danced down the sidewalk, freshly cleared and salted to keep everyone from slipping.
“Maybe we could get them some small cups of hot cocoa. Come on. If we hurry, we can catch the ice-carving demonstration at seven thirty.”
After getting four cups of hot cocoa, which Sadie persuaded them to augment with extra whipped cream and sprinkles, they made their way over to the parking lot in front of the community center.
One of the ice artists yanked on a chainsaw and the motor revved up.
His partner used a metal pick and chipped away at a giant block of ice.
A woman stood nearby, answering questions from the spectators as a new carving took shape.
“Oh wow,” Tisha said, scanning the gathering.
A line of brown paper bags with candles inside served as luminaries lighting the perimeter of the parking lot. Festive music played from the building’s outdoor speakers, and vintage lights crisscrossed the pergola at the entrance to the community center’s commons area.
“Brody and Sadie, which one’s your favorite?” Tisha pointed to the six different sculptures on display.
“I like the pirate.” Brody pointed to the man with the eyepatch staring through a spyglass facing the sea.
“I like the dog,” Sadie said, gesturing to a sculpture of a playful puppy. “Which one do you love, Mama?”
“I like that one there,” Tisha said. “Looks like a miner panning for gold.”
Ethan reached down and quietly took her hand in his.
Her heart turned cartwheels. She smiled, then sipped her hot cocoa. Would Sadie make a scene if she turned around and saw Ethan holding her hand? He caressed her skin with the pad of his thumb, sending a delightful tingle zipping up her arm. On second thought, Sadie’s irritation was worth the risk.
Sadie and Brody had pushed right up against the roped-off stanchions. They had a great view of the sculptors chipping away at the massive blocks of ice.
“Clutch, my man!” Two guys Tisha didn’t recognize sidled up to them. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain.” Ethan grinned. “You in town to enjoy the festival?”
“Since we heard you were back, we came to play in the alumni game. Didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Rumor has it you still got it, big guy.”
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”
“Guess we’ll see, won’t we? Have a great night.” The one standing closest to Ethan winked at Tisha and then moved on.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do they call you that? That nickname, Clutch—where’d it come from?”
He sighed. “People started calling me that after my freshman year in high school, when I nailed nearly every three-point shot I ever took. But then I totally blew a three-point shot, and we lost a championship game at the state basketball tournament. Other than that one critical failure, I was pretty good from the three-point line.”
“Well, Chase used to say you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take. Failures are the best way to learn.”
Ethan quietly sipped his hot cocoa.
Uh-oh. She winced. “I’m sorry. Is it okay if I mention Chase?”
Ethan glanced down and gave her a slow, cocky smile. “I don’t mind if you talk about Chase. I’m not threatened. By the way, it’s Gretzky, a professional hockey player, who deserves credit for that quote. And Chase is a big part of your past, but I would sure like to be your future.”
Her stomach dipped, and she tightened her grasp on his hand.
The ice sculptures glistened under the strands of white lights, and laughter faded into the background.
His words, that smile, and the intensity in his gaze sent her mind careening around hairpin turns.
It was terrifying, really. She tipped her chin up, tilted her head to one side, and flashed a flirty grin. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Something sparked in his eyes, like he saw past her facade, straight into the places she wasn’t ready to drag into the light yet. But instead of pressing, he lifted her hand to his lips, the warmth of his breath sending a delicious tingle arcing through her.
And oh, how she wanted to savor this. All of it. The tender hope reflected in his eyes when he looked at her. The whisper of a kiss he pressed to the back of her hand. Because for the first time in ages, the future didn’t seem like something to fear.
The next morning, Ethan set a plate of fluffy, golden scrambled eggs with a side of crisp bacon and a cluster of juicy red grapes in front of Brody.
Last night, Tisha had let him hold her hand. She hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t shut down. But her answer still echoed in his mind. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?
Not exactly a promise. Not exactly a brush-off though. More like a woman standing at the edge of something new, uncertain about taking a leap.
He could relate. More than he wanted to admit.
Ethan reached for the plate of cinnamon rolls and set them on the table. “Happy Valentine’s Day, pal.”
“Thanks.” Brody grabbed the pepper shaker and sprinkled some on his eggs.
As his son dug into his meal, Ethan fixed a plate for himself and joined him at the table. The scent of warm cinnamon and cream-cheese frosting filled the kitchen, but his mind was still on Tisha—on the way she’d looked at him, like maybe, just maybe, she wanted to believe in second chances.