“He hasn’t come in yet. Maybe the baby had a bad night,” Taryn said, before muttering under her breath, “So, I guess now there’s two down, another ugly one to go.”
“What did you say?” Elaine demanded.
“You heard me. Two down—both of you standing here in the shop, vying for Clinton’s attention. One to go—where is Mallory?” Taryn answered. “This is downright ridiculous. Clinton should put a restraining order out on all three of you for harassment. Has he given any one of you the first sign that he’s interested in a relationship?”
“Are you accusing us of being stalkers?” Diana asked in a demanding tone.
“That’sexactlywhat I’m doing,” Taryn replied. “Everyone in town is probably laughing at you for acting like lovestruck teenagers, but hey”—she frowned—“I’m not complaining one bit. When they’re gossiping about you, they’re leaving me and my cousins alone.”
“You are wrong,” Diana said. “Clinton is just trying to decide which one of us he likes best, and we’re all showing him how much we care about him.”
“What you are doing is shameful for grown women. Come to think of it, girls in grade school would have better sense than you are allshowing. You are a hairdresser”—Taryn pointed at Diana and then swung her finger around to Elaine—“and you have a prosperous real estate business. Use what brain cells you have in your head and think about how the whole town is gossiping about you and probably laughing behind your backs. What eligible bachelor—or even divorced guy or widower—is going to ever think about dating you when he hears about all this mess? ’Course, as long as you’re bringing food to us—and I’m telling you right now that he’s been sharing ever since we got here—I really don’t care if you are making fools of yourselves. I’m hoping there’s a T-shirt in your present, Elaine, because my nightshirt is getting holes in it, and I’m thinking Clinton might share his new one with me.”
Diana flipped her hair over her shoulder and glared at Taryn, then stormed out of the shop. Elaine set her mouth in a firm line, picked her package back up, and followed Diana outside.
Anna Rose came through the back room and patted Taryn on the shoulder. “You are my hero. I couldn’t have done better, but I’m real glad Diana didn’t take her cake. I’m going to have some with a second cup of coffee for my breakfast.”
“So, y’all heard all that?” Taryn asked.
“Sure, we did.” Jorja raised her voice so that her cousins could hear her. “But maybe you better ask Clinton since Diana said it wasn’t for us.”
Anna Rose picked up an ivy and carried it to the back room. “I’ll call him and ask if it’s all right if we cut it, but we all know he’s going to say yes.”
“Say yes about what?” Clinton asked as he came through the back door. “Do I smell cinnamon? Is there a bake sale going on somewhere?”
“Yep, in Diana’s house or maybe in her grandmother’s place—or one of her customers down at the Cut and Curl might have brought this cake to her. But you do smell cinnamon,” Jorja answered.
“If you’re willing to share, we can have a cake-tasting to see if you want this kind when you and Diana get married,” Taryn teased.
Jorja laughed. “Diana explicitly said that it was for you alone, just be aware.”
Something didn’t look right. Clinton didn’t have a diaper bag thrown over his shoulder, and she didn’t hear Zoe cooing or fussing.
“Anytime those women bring anything at all here or to my apartment, we’ll share it. You don’t even have to ask anymore,” Clinton said with a long sigh. His tone and expression looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Jorja picked up the cake and carried it to the back room. “Thank you for that. I thought maybe they had given up on this stupid contest, but I guess they’ve been busy with other things.”
“I wish they would all give up. I’d rather buy my own food or cook than have to deal with all this crazy stuff,” he said. “Especially today.”
Taryn followed Jorja and went straight to the playpen, but there was no baby in it. When she realized the carrier wasn’t on the worktable, fear filled her heart. Was Zoe sick? Who was watching her? “Where’s the baby?” She looked over at Clinton, and it hit her like a Class 5 tornado. “Rebecca came back, didn’t she?”
“She showed up around an hour ago with a friend she met at the center. She’s going to Arkansas with Kyla, this new friend, to live in the mountains and make jams and jellies to sell at farmers’ markets,” Clinton answered. “I tried to talk her out of taking Zoe with her, but she insisted that she was better and could take care of the baby, and she thinks this move is just what she needs. There was nothing I could do.”
Taryn felt as empty as the playpen, but her inner voice reminded her that Zoe belonged with her mother. Even knowing that didn’t help with the tears damming up behind her eyelashes. She blinked them away and sat down on her barstool, her legs almost giving way before she could.
“I’ll pray that Rebecca is healed enough to take on the responsibility of a baby,” Jorja said.
Anna Rose brought the cake to the table, then poured four cups of coffee and set one at each place. “Clinton, you have seen lots of these cases. In your opinion, is she ready to leave rehab after such a short time?”
He shook his head and then took a sip of his coffee. “Not by a long shot. I’m worried about Zoe, but the papers I have say that the guardianship is temporary, and Rebecca can take her with her at any time.”
“Are you okay, Taryn?” Jorja asked.
“No,” Taryn answered, “but I’m going to hope that the baby is taken care of right and loved and ...” She blinked back tears. “Would someone please cut that cake and let’s talk about something else before I start ugly crying?”
Anna Rose quickly removed the plastic wrap from the cake and cut several slices. “Food has always been our comfort,” she explained to Clinton as she served up a piece to each of them. “Nana Irene said that everyone needs fuel to help them through tough times.”
“I need a lot of it to get me through this day,” Taryn whispered.
