Page 2 of Heart of Dixie
She rolled her eyes and transferred syrup to the table. “Um . . . yes . . . well.” Her eyes darted over her shoulder, to the pass-through leading from the lunch counter to the kitchen beyond. Ruby was in full form this morning, dancing in place as she presided over the industrial-size stove, dressed in her white chef’s coat and Carmen Miranda headdress. “You see . . .” A round plate piled high with crispy bacon landed on the table. Cody dug in.
I got it. Ruby was in one of her moods. ‘Unleashing her creativity,’ she called it. “Let me guess. Ruby wasn’t feeling the blueberry pancakes this morning, was she, Molly?”
Molly shook her head. “Nope, sorry. Waffles and bacon.” She didn’t seem especially apologetic.
“What’s that brown stuff in my waffle? Is it bugs?” Cody scrutinized the hunk dripping syrup from the end of his fork as though it actually might be.
Molly’s posture—along with the guarded expression she generally wore in her eyes—softened as she answered him. “That’s chocolate chips.”
“Great! He’ll be bouncing off the walls all morning.” Shane’s sarcastic muttering drew Molly’s attention back to him and the shutters masking her gaze dropped back in place. “I’ll be back with more coffee.” She gathered up the empty tray and left.
“Dad, can I have chocolate chips in my pancakes instead of blueberries every time?” I could only imagine the ideas running through Cody’s head. Good thing I wasn’t living with them any longer. Six months of that was enough to strain the best of relationships.
I dipped my napkin in my water glass and motioned with two fingers for Cody to give me his face. “You’re sticky already, sport.” He was a cute thing, though. Even if he did have maple syrup dripping down his chin.
Nancy would have pounced on him already, had those dribbles all swiped up. As moms went, Cody couldn’t have asked for one better. Too bad nobody asked him if he was ready to give her up.
Shane picked up a slice of bacon, studied it with his lips pinched. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, and the expression there wasn’t any friendlier. “Beth had someone pulled over on the side of the road as I was coming into town this morning. Pretty sure it was Dixie.”
My napkin stilled in midair, and I dropped it to the table. This conversation had been looming since I passed them on the highway this morning, like the dreaded thud of the second shoe.Dixie was back. I rubbed my suddenly damp palms against my thighs. “So? Her dad just died.” Yet for all the reasons she could have come home, that wasn’t the one I figured would get her here.
Cody stabbed his entire waffle and brought it to his mouth. I reached over to cut it for him—any excuse to break eye contact with Shane—then added bacon to my plate. I shoveled a forkful of breakfast into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to speak.
“So . . . you and she were . . .friends. I remember she up and left so suddenly. I also remember how suddenly your college plan changed and you switched from the local JC to a Big Ten university a day’s drive away and with barely enough time toreserve a dorm room. What I don’t remember is you ever talking about it.”
Shane’s anger was understandable. It was the same protective instinct that urged me home last year. And no lie, a bit of that hurt and anger was conjured again at the mere mention of her name.
I emptied my coffee cup washing down the mass that clogged my throat. Now was not the time to revisit those memories. I dragged them out from time to time, like snapshots I could flip through and then pack away again. But those days—and that friendship—felt like a different life: mostly happy, a little embarrassing, and altogether heartbreaking. I took a bite of bacon and crammed my mouth with waffle.Anythingto avoid Shane’s narrow-eyed stare.
“Refill?” Molly stood at the end of the table, thank God, waving a full pot. Shane shot me an annoyed glare that promised we’d revisit the topic of Dixie.
Cody straightened in his seat. “Yes, please.” He shoved his mug closer to her.
She waited for Shane’s nod of approval, then very seriously dribbled a bit into Cody’s cup as he studied her movements. It was inspiring, the patience she had with the kid.
“Molly, somewhere I heard you write books. Would it happen to be children’s stories?” Made perfect sense to me. I’d always heard people should write what they knew.
She laughed as she filled Shane’s mug and then mine, then topped Cody’s off with milk. “Oh, good Lord, no. There are some great ones out there, though.” She turned away, flitted around the dining room like a hummingbird, refilling coffee mugs and taking orders, hustling through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen and back out again, bringing with her the clamor of crashing pots and Ruby belting out show tunes.
Minutes later our plates were empty and she was back with her tray. She leaned a hip against the edge of the table, giving Shane her full attention, but anything she wanted to say was cut off by a tap on the glass from outside. With a sigh she wasn’t quite successful at hiding, she started collecting dishes.
My lips tugged into an automatic grin. “Hey, look who it is! Wave to Aunt Colleen, Cody.” I raised my hand along with Cody as my sister stood on the opposite side of the window, grinning and patting the bulge of her belly before she waddled past.
Molly paused in clearing the table to watch Collen waddle past, then glanced at Cody, who was back to shoveling food in his mouth. She dropped the check, hefted the tray of dirty dishes to her shoulder, and returned to the kitchen.
I followed Colleen with my gaze as she crossed the street and entered the building she’d remodeled into a bookstore, then wrapped my nephew in a headlock. “Pretty soon you won’t be the baby in the family, Cody.”
Cody threw his shoulders back and escaped. “I’m not a baby. I’m five and I’m going to kinnergarden when it starts.
“Wow, you’re nearly all grown up. High five!” We swatted palms.
Shane handed Cody another napkin when he noticed me wiping syrup from my hand. “Pretty soon you’ll be reading to your new cousin just like I read bedtime stories to you.”
Cody stuck his nose back to the window. “Yeah, cool.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
Shane lifted a hip and dug out his wallet. “So, has Colleen found anyone to take over the store for her?”
I shook my head. Across the street, she came back outside with a hot pink watering can. She’d been babying her half-barrel of petunias since she planted them in the spring. “Don’t think so.” As she’d admitted to her husband Flynn that she wanted to sell the shop and stay home with their baby, he’dbeen pressuring her to do just that. “I guess they have a realtor looking for a buyer.”
