“Absolutely. And if you perfect something, you can enter it into the baking contest at the festival.”
Her fork froze midway to her mouth. “The baking contest? Did we talk about that?” A hint of panic crept through her.
“Didn’t we? Well, don’t worry. I’ll put a signup sheet here at the cafe. We’ll get lots of entries. We’ll just need a judge or two from out of town to keep the judging impartial.”
Amanda opened her ever-present notebook and jotted down a note about the baking contest, her pen scratching across the page. She frowned, hoping she hadn’t forgotten something big that everyone would be expecting.
“Oh, and I contacted Heather Parker. I’m friends with her mother, Evelyn. She’s from over in Moonbeam. She’s going to show a couple of her illustrations at the arts and crafts show.” Beverly smiled. “It pays to have friends with talented daughters.”
Amanda looked up from her notebook, relief washing over her. “Thank you so much. I haven’t gotten very far with people entering the show.”
Beverly’s eyes brightened. “You could ask Connor.”
She hesitated, recalling her somewhat unpleasant encounters with him. “I don’t know… He was very clear that I shouldn’t bother him.”
“Well, if you run into him, you could at least ask. It wouldn’t hurt. He does wonderful wood carvings, though I haven’t seen one in years. He used to sell them around town, but not anymore. Not sure where he sells his work.”
“Maybe. If I just happen to run into him.” And if he’d even talk to her. Which she doubted.
“Connor who?” Maxine asked.
“Connor Dempsey. He came to town while you were away. I think he’s been here about eight or so years now.”
“Hm, haven’t met him.”
“He doesn’t get around much. I don’t think he’s ever been into Coastal Coffee.” Beverly shrugged. “Kind of a loner.”
Amanda finished every single bit of her pie, relishing each decadent, flakey bite as they chatted about the festival. She finally rose to leave. “I really appreciate your help. Both of you.”
“No problem. We’re glad to help.” Beverly took the empty plate. “Just ask if you need anything at all.”
“And thanks for helping with the festival. I’d hate for Magnolia not to have it after all the years it’s been an annual thing.” Maxine came out from behind the counter and waved to a customer. “You’re really a godsend to this town and the festival.”
Amanda walked out of the cafe feeling much more positive than when she’d entered. She could do this. She’d show Magnolia the best Heritage Festival they’d ever had.
Beverly and Maxine cleaned up the cafe after closing, carting the last of the dishes to the kitchen and starting up the dishwasher. “You got time for some tea?” Beverly asked. “It feels like ages since we’ve had much time to chat and catch up.”
“Sure, I have time. I’m just headed over to Second Finds this afternoon. And I think Dale and I are going to have dinner at his place afterward.”
Beverly poured them both large glasses of tea and handed one to Maxine. They sat down at a small table in the corner of the kitchen. “So, it seems like you and Dale are getting along fine. Seems like someone is always telling me they saw the two of you somewhere.”
Maxine laughed. “We do a lot together, I admit. Then he sells my refinished furniture pieces at his shop so there’s all that time when we’re out scouting new pieces for his store or for me to refinish.”
Maxine’s eyes lit up when she talked about Dale. Beverly couldn’t be happier for her friend. She deserved someone like Dale. Someone who appreciated her.
Beverly paused, then plunged on. “I almost hate to ask… but how are things with you and your kids? Did Tiffany ever forgive you for not moving back and taking over the care of her baby?”
Maxine’s expression darkened and sadness crept into her eyes. “I haven’t heard a word from her. I’ve emailed and texted. No answer. But knowing Tiffany, she’ll get over it when she needs something.”
“And your son?”
“Not a word. No, he did send me a long scathing email about what a disappointment I am.” Her voice faltered slightly.
She reached out and took Maxine’s hand. “Don’t listen to either of them. You’re a wonderful mother. They are just…” She caught herself before she said they were spoiled brats. But they were.
“They just… expect things to be how they want them to be. They’ve never had to work very hard for anything in their lives,” Maxine said, her voice full of frustration. “It’s partly my fault. I spoiled them and did everything for them.”
“But they’re adults now. They need to learn to take care of themselves.”
