Page 7 of Moonshine and Magnolias
She raised her mug to him and gathered her things, then hurried through the swinging doors.
The black and green tiled walls were the epitome of a quaint country kitchen, missing only Grandma’s charismatic presence. The sight of her great-aunt alone in the large room brought a fresh ache to her chest. For as long as Wendy could remember, her grandma had been everywhere in Fountenoy Hall. The kitchen. The office. Even in the orchard. Eulalee had joined her ten years ago when Grandpa, her brother, had died. Now it was only her aunt who stood by the massive stove, a red-checkered apron protecting her clothes as the sausage sizzled on the flat cooking surface.
“Oh, good. You’re here.” Eulalee gestured to the stove with her spatula. “Everything’s ready.”
Wendy posted the new schedule. She donned some hot mitts and slid the pan of eggs out of the oven, then used her hip to push open the swinging doors to the dining room. Ignoring the man at the table, she placed the food in the chafing dish on the cherry wood sideboard. When she turned, Dr. Upshaw quickly lowered his eyes back to the paper in his hand.
A curl of pleasure unfurled in her belly before she stifled it. The time to flirt with the customers would be never. Besides, with Brandi around, it would be a waste of time. Wendy had learned that lesson the summer after ninth grade when Randall Finkle had wanted to be her boyfriend only to meet her beautiful cousin with the different colored eyes.
Wendy returned to the kitchen and gathered more goodies until the three chafing dishes held steaming hot food. Aunt Eulalee had whipped up a homemade peach syrup as well, in addition to putting out the biscuits, fresh fruit and a selection of pastries.
As soon as her aunt’s back was turned, Wendy penciled peach syrup onto the printed breakfast menu hanging next to the schedule. Keeping accurate records was an important part of everything running smoothly. Even if she was the only one who recognized it.
By the time she was done with the buffet, her mom was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, and Fountenoy Hall’s other three guests had joined Dr. Upshaw at the tables. His brother slurped on a cup of coffee like a man reunited with his first love. It was clear from Mr. Upshaw’s same thick brows and straight nose that the two men were related. The new Mrs. Kipling sat in the lap of her groom while he fed her bits from his plate, both of them giggling. The overt public display of affection didn’t seem to bother the Upshaws, so Wendy kept her mouth shut.
“Ms. Marsh, we want to thank you for the picnic basket yesterday,” said Mr. Kipling. “It was perfect.”
“We appreciate your willingness to reschedule,” Wendy said.
“The champagne and strawberries were so thoughtful. And romantic.” He kissed his wife on the cheek.
“The people at the park heard we were staying here and had nothing but nice things to say about Ms. Maybelle,” Mrs. Kipling said. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet her. When I called my mom to tell her, she said your grandmother was a true Southern lady.”
“Thank you.” Wendy gave a quick nod while gathering some dirty dishes and hurried to the kitchen to avoid more talk about Grandma. She put them in the wash sink for her mom, then brewed another pot of coffee.
The rich, buttery scent of Eulalee’s pastries was almost enough to make her break her rule about a sugar rush at breakfast. If she ate everything her aunt cooked, she wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. Yogurt would have to do. The clanking of silverware and spoons scraping the chafing dishes and the low hum of chatter that filtered in from the pass-through window assured Wendy all was going well with the patrons. She sat on the stool next to the island and pulled out her phone.
“What does your all-knowing to-do list have for you today?” Eulalee asked, peering over her shoulder.
“Hey.” Wendy pointed her spoon with mock sternness. “Don’t knock the list. The list guides us with its wisdom and organization.”
She skimmed over the bullet points for her job at Steward Hotels that she’d get to when her shift was over. The big one was the final proof of the printed materials for the Terre Haute opening. The opening that could be the final confirmation her bosses needed to put her in charge of the whole department.
Next came her to-do list for Fountenoy Hall. She added a note about the financials, then turned to her aunt.
“Did you do the book keeping, or was that Grandma?”
“Maybelle, mostly. She hired someone at tax time, but she kept precise records.”
“And this was her ledger?” Wendy tapped the brown book by her side.
“You have the ledger?” Eulalee shot her a quick glance. “I thought it was still in the office.”
“Mom got it for me a few days ago.” Wendy ignored the lump in her throat. She was going to have to face Grandma’s office sooner rather than later. Maybe even that afternoon. She wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“There’s nothing on the computer?”
“Not unless she didn’t tell me something.” Eulalee dipped a spoon into the sauce on the stove and tasted its contents. “Is the Hall in money trouble?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Then why the worry about the finances? I’ll handle the ledger.” She put down the spoon and held out her hand.
“That’s okay. It’s not worry. I just like to know what’s going on.” Wendy scooped a spoonful of yogurt as her pocked vibrated.
She turned off the alarm that signaled the end of breakfast and the start of the staff meeting. No steps sounded on the back staircase announcing her cousin’s arrival. She took a peek out the pass-through window. Still no Brandi. The only person seated was Dr. Upshaw.
