“Good. Ahead of schedule.” My smile grows. I’m happy the project is progressing so well. Being ahead of schedule is something that hardly ever happens on large jobs like this. Last week, we put the new tile flooring down in the spare bathrooms and foyer. Earlier this week we installed the kitchen cabinets. “As long as everything goes according to plan, I’ll have her countertops installed any day now, and she’ll have a fully functioning kitchen.”
“That’s good. I know she’s anxious to cook again. She’s promised to have us all over for dinner once you’re done.”
“Well, that might be sooner rather than later.” I grab the coffees and pastries and turn to leave but run into the customer behind me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”
“No apologies needed.” The young woman speaks with a lively, southern accent and gives me the sweetest smile. It looks so familiar it nearly knocks me back. “I couldn’t help but overhear you mention Cami and a renovation. You’re not by any chance talking about Camille Barnes, are you?”
“Why yes, darling.” Rachel answers from behind the counter. She has her back to us and hasn't yet looked at the young woman who’s rendered me speechless. “Do you know Cami? She’s pretty new to—” Rachel turns around and freezes. She’s seeing what I’m seeing. “Dear, God. You’re the spitting image of her. You must be Elizabeth.”
Rachel comes out from behind the counter and takes Elizabeth by the shoulders and looks her up and down. I’ve seen pictures of her at Camille’s house and knew there was a resemblance. But in person, it’s like looking back in time at a younger version of Camille. They share the same bone structure, build, long dark hair, and pale blue eyes. Elizabeth’s lips are fuller, and her smile doesn’t quite match Camille’s now that I’vegotten a better look, but other than that, she’s the spitting image of her mother.
“I am, but please call me Lizzy,” she sighs. “I’m so relieved y’all know my mom. I thought I’d surprise her with a visit, but I didn’t take into account the small town and the lack of Ubers. This may not have been the best idea I ever had.”
“When did you arrive?” I finally find my voice.
“Bus just dropped me off a few minutes ago. I took the red-eye from Atlanta.” Her smile grows, and she doesn’t look the least bit tired from her travels. I’d be dead on my feet if I took the red-eye across the country. “Can I use a phone to call my mom? Mine is dead.”
“I can do you one better. I’m actually heading out to Camille’s now if you want a ride.”
She tilts her head, her smile turning a bit mischievous. “Why would you be going to Mom’s house?” She looks at the time on her smartwatch. “Before seven in the morning.” Her eyes shift to the box in my hand and the coffees in the other. “And with two coffees and a box of pastries.”
She crosses her arms and pins me with a curious stare. I can’t help but chuckle. I’m unsure what to say so I opt for the simplest truth instead. “I’m Adam, the architect she hired to renovate the chalet.”
“Do you take all your clients coffee and breakfast?”
“Um.” I divert my eyes toward Rachel. Her face lights up with a huge grin, offering no help. I’m not prepared to discuss my relationship status with Camille. Yet, here I stand before the scrutinizing gaze of her daughter, nonetheless. I could deny my feelings, and pretend I’m just being a nice guy. Or I could tell her the truth. “What can I say? I like your mom. I like making her smile.”
Lizzy’s expression softens, and her smile returns. “I like seeing Mom smile, too. She hasn’t done that a lot lately.” Shenods toward the box in my hand. “You don’t by any chance have one of those glazed donuts in there do you?”
“Afraid not.”
She forces a frown. “Bummer. Those are my favorites.”
I turn toward Rachel, who’s been watching us with a knowing smile. “Can you please get Lizzy a couple glazed donuts? And,” I looked back at Lizzy, “do you drink coffee?”
She nods. “Black with one sugar, please.”
“And a black coffee, one sugar.”
“Coming right up.” Rachel’s especially chipper. It probably has something to do with the fact that she’s the first to hear me admit that I like Camille. All my friends and brothers suspect as much, but no one has asked me about her yet. Ricky joked about me liking her when I first started the job, but that’s him giving me shit. As soon as he suspected something more was going on, he backed off.
After I pay Rachel for the additional items, Lizzy and I walk to my truck. She doesn’t have much with her, just a small backpack and a small rolling suitcase. I open the door for her and help her in the cab. Once she’s situated, I ask, “Can you hold these? I’ll put your bag in the back.”
“Sure thing.” She smiles and takes the coffee and pastries.
As soon as I slide into my seat, she asks, “So, you and my mom, huh?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re blunt.”
“I don’t see any reason not to be.” She stares at me like this is a perfectly normal conversation. It’s anything but normal. “You really like her. I can tell.”
“I’ve gotten to know her pretty well over the past couple months. But …” I sigh, not sure how to finish that statement.
“She’s been through a lot,” Lizzy says.
I don’t know what else to say, so I just nod.
We sit in silence for a few minutes. Me looking out the windshield and her staring at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m worthy. A protective, concerned daughter is a roadblock I’ve never experienced before. What’s the right thing to say here? I already admitted that I like Camille. I’m not about to get into the details of the full status of our relationship. Especially considering we don’t really have a relationship yet.
