“You’ve become more hospitable since I was last here,” Elizabeth said, though she really didn’t mind Hearts Bend’s Southern ways.
“We’ve missed you, Beth. And for a long time, we didn’t even know what was going on with you. And the lady in the grocery store was probably in Granny and Pops’s prayer group.”
“I didn’t want anyone to know.” There’s no shame in being sick. She just didn’t want any labels. To be the girl with the virus that never really went away.
“So we heard.” Jeff pulled into one of the angled parking spots in front of Ella’s. “You like your privacy, don’t you?”
“Yeah, a little.” She’d always been protective about her thoughts and feelings, even more so after being sick. But lately, being private felt more like a burden.
“I’m the opposite. During college, I struggled with that alone-in-a-crowd feeling and hated those first few months on campus, not knowing anyone. I kept it to myself, but eventually told Granny.”
Elizabeth tried to imagine her handsome, gregarious, teddy bear of a cousin wandering a college campus alone. “My guess is you weren’t lonely for long.”
“I made friends, found a place to fit, but none of it ever felt like home, like being with the family in a town where everyone knew me. Or so it seemed.”
“Is that why, after four years of education, you chose to be a police officer?”
“I tried corporate life. Moved to Dallas for two years. Then took a stint at Dorsey Furniture. It wasn’t for me. Being a cop makes me feel like I’m giving back. Besides, I have politics in mind for the future. I’ll use that ole Vanderbilt degree one day. So, you’re still Wharton-bound?”
“Naturally.” She’d not told anyone she was in Hearts Bend because she was wait-listed. Only that she wanted more real-world experience before starting school. The pre-term exercises would be about her work experience.
“How do you like working for Dorsey Furniture?”
“I like it. Will’s a good boss. The atmosphere is fun yet professional.” Will was another Dorsey cousin and now the CEO of the family business. “Seeing things from the inside puts reality to all the stories we heard as kids. Sometimes I think Dad wishes he’d stayed here, worked with his siblings. But his opportunities came in Boston.” Elizabeth reached for her backpack. Now she was really running late. “I like to think I inherited the Dorsey ingenuity and vision.”
“I’m sure you did, Miss MIT-with-Honors grad. Granny was popping her buttons when she told us you were coming down for the summer. Called it a miracle.”
“Thanks for the ride, Officer Simmons.” Elizabeth popped open the car door.
“Hey, give me your keys. We’ll have someone bring your car around when it’s ready.”
“My keys? I see your master plan. To steal my car. I saw you eyeing it the other day at Granny’s.” Nevertheless, she dug the keys from her backpack and tossed them over. “No donuts in empty parking lots.”
“Really? Not even one?”
Elizabeth hurried into the diner. Jeff was her favorite cousin. But so was Will. And Ethan. Truly, she loved them all. They made her laugh. Treated her like year-round family.
Nevertheless, she had to get used to all the family togetherness. She grew up with just her parents and brother, Jonathan. Dad and Mom raised them to be independent. She never asked for help with menial tasks. Until she contracted Epstein–Barr. Now that she was better, she wanted to be strong. A woman who stood on her own.
“Tina, I’m here. You can go.” Elizabeth made her way through the kitchen toward the bank of lockers. She tossed in her backpack and grabbed her Ella’s ball cap. “I’d still be running if Jeff hadn’t picked me up.”
“I was about to send Cade after you.” Tina pointed to the young, skinny high school kid mopping the back of the kitchen. “Then you came in.” She handed Elizabeth the controls to the server’s pagers and the window checklist. “I called Marty. Told him to give you four of their best new tires, keep an old one for a spare, and send the bill to me.”
“What? Tina, you’re not paying for my tires. It’s my car.”
Tina loaded a plate with hot fries and shoved it under a heat lamp, then paged the server. “Friends take care of friends in this town. Besides, you’ve worked a lot of extra shifts for me, and you’ve only been here a month.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “And you’ll need money for grad school. I am doing this.” She turned toward the service window. “Hey, Lucy, did you see your plate is up? Are you wearing your pager? I didn’t give it to you for decoration.” Tina freed her long, silver hair from under her cap and motioned for Elizabeth to follow. “And in the South, when someone does something nice for you, it’s customary to say ‘Thank you.’”
“I am grateful. It’s undeserved, but thank you.” Elizabeth leaned against the metal doorframe of Tina’s office. In her mid-sixties, Tina was pretty and round with curves in all the right places. She carried the robust air of a woman who worked hard and loved well. “Go, have fun with your grandkids.”
“I’ll text you some pictures. Cole and Haley have been planning this birthday party, for a five-year-old, mind you, for months. GiGi cannot miss. And Beth, a gift doesn’t depend on merit.”
Was there any place more humbling than Hearts Bend? Elizabeth had been raised to take pride in herself, her independence. But the folks of HB made trusting and leaning on others intoxicating.
“You know,” Tina said, slinging her handbag over her shoulder, “I love Ella’s. The ole girl was dying when I took it over twenty plus years ago. But I’m not married to the idea of going on forever and ever. Life’s too short to be weighed down with that kind of pressure and worry, with so much focus on achievements and acquisition. Those things truly don’t make us happy. Not long-term, anyway. Family is what matters. People matter. Faith matters. What we do with our time, money, and words matters.”
Elizabeth listened because she respected Tina. The woman had endured some trials in her life and raised three boys alone. She defined strength. Understood independence.
“Well, that’s enough of a lecture.” But it wasn’t really. Tina walked with Elizabeth to the service window. “Oh, hey, when you close tonight, stick all the money in the safe. I’ll tally it up in the morning.”
