“I don’t doubt that,” Mom says, rolling her eyes. ”But you should never have been put in that position. Mr. Daily has sent over his heartfelt apologies and hopes you’ll consider his offer to come back and talk to him about doing more private dinners at his place.”
Watching my mother, she looks so put together and with it. Like small-town perfection, and she always has. She was raised in a family that was known for being active in the community, so of course when she became an adult she wanted to give back. She’s juggled her causes with us kids, her marriage, and running a restaurant at who-knows-what cost for years. She was my inspiration when I stepped away from the family business and decided to sink my savings into myself and bet on me, put myself out there to be a private chef and do something unique.
She also watches me, a smile on her face as she smooths back her hair. It’s pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck, and she’s wearing her mother’s pearls. She always looks good in the pearls, and they’re also the thing she wears when Mad Dog means business.
As I turn around to peek back at the pups, I look down at my wrist and see the orange friendship bracelet that I’d put on today, the one Georgie gave me. What did she say it meant…creativity, courage, and confidence? I run my fingers across it, calling the goddesses of all three to my side, with a special request for more confidence than anything else.
“I don’t know if I want to call him,” I say as I turn back around to face my mom. “I keep thinking about what could have happened if I was alone.”
“But you weren’t,” she says.
“This time. But what about the next?” I loop my hands in front of me, looking at the sky. “Maybe I chose wrong, maybe it’s not what I’m supposed to do.”
“Stop that,” she coos, standing up and walking over beside me. “You’re dynamic in the kitchen. Always have been. Just because one idiot pulls some whacked-out craziness because he drank too much doesn’t mean you should doubt your abilities.”
She takes her finger and tips my chin so we’re almost nose to nose. “I don’t need feedback from some local app inventor to know that my daughter is the best at what she does. You’ve always been like that. You put your mind to something and it’s yours. So you got served up a hurdle, that is life. We’re lucky that nothing more happened, but now you know to put something into place to protect you. Two servers next time.”
I wrap my hand around hers and smile. “I just wanted it to go well. For both of us. I know you have your reputation, too.”
“Oh, forget about that,” she says, stepping away and swiping at the air with her hand. “The moment I heard what that man did, I prayed that you or Jake had knocked his lights out.”
“Mother,” I manage, chewing back a laugh. “You’re quite the spitfire.”
“Look, I’m hard on you and I’m sorry. Your father gives me grief about it all the time, but I see your potential. In fact, it’s not potential—I see your talent and how good you are and how great you’re going to be, ‘cause that comes with age, honey,” she finishes with a wink.
I can feel an embarrassed flush spreading across my cheeks. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me I was talented, Mom.”
“Really?” she asks, genuine shock registering on her features. She reaches out and pulls me into a hug. “Oh, that needs to be remedied immediately because I think that you are the mosttalented woman in Sweetkiss Creek. Could be because of your genes…”
Giggling, I pull away from her but only to check on the four-legged children again. Both are fine, lying in the long grass and enjoying the last rays of light as the sun goes down.
“I really want you to look at me and know I’m doing all I can to make you proud,” I admit. It’s hard to do, especially with Mad Dog.
“My girl,” she says, cupping my face in her hands. “You make me proud every dang day. I want you to know that I may come off as being hard on you, always pushing you to be more. But maybe it’s too much and I need to step back and let my baby bird fly from the nest on her own, huh?”
“Let’s face it,” I say. “This baby bird likes the nest, and as crazy as you make me sometimes, I like your suggestions and help. ‘Cause they’re yours.”
“You are perfect as you are.” She kisses my head and pulls me into a hug. “But, I’ll always be the person who offers her help. So, the minute you don’t want me weighing in any longer, I’ll shut up. Deal?”
Laughing, I give her a bear hug back. “Deal.” I pull away and tilt my head to the side. “I’ve been thinking about the fundraiser you’re doing. The one with Frannie for Big Brothers Big Sisters.”
“Oh? Got an idea? If so, let’s hear it. I’m all ears.”
“One thing you could do to shake things up for your auction,” I say, putting her in my sights, “is to get locals to take part. Specifically ones who have gone through the program and have come out quite successful in their own right because of its influence.”
“That’s a good idea.” She cocks her head to the side, deep in thought. “Who would that be?”
“The Porter boys, for a start. Levi and Austin had a ‘Big Brother’ who took them to a football game, and the rest ishistory.” I’m already pulling out my phone to text her Levi’s number. “I’m sending you Levi’s cell. He’s in town, so call and ask. He and Austin can share their experience and then do a meet and greet, maybe sign some of their donations. Pictures with the attendees…boom, you’ve got a fresh event.”
“This is why you are my daughter,” my mother sings as she leans over and kisses my cheek. “What a great idea! Thank you.”
My attention is pulled away when my phone starts to ring in my hand. I don’t know the number, so I send it to voicemail, turning back to my mother, who is already at the patio door, grinning.
“I need to make some calls after that brainstorm session,” she says. “You know, that really is a good idea, sweetie. Rethink your position on what you want to do. You’re a boss babe, as they say. You have the ideas and the skills behind it to boot. You’re a double threat, and I know you’re gonna go far.”
“You think?”
“Of course,” she exclaims. “You’re a Richards and I love you.”
