“Actually, that’s perfect. Bob and Donna want us to interview some local woman for baker and manager. They say she’s very good. Lots of experience.”
“I thought you were using a headhunter.”
“Yeah, but Bob asked if I’d interview this woman as a favor to a friend.”
“Then why is she in Hearts Bend?”
“Family reason. Wrote it all down somewhere. We’ll meet her on Thursday. By the way—” Rick paused with a hitch in his sigh.
“What?” Sam said.
“It’s nothing, really, but weren’t you giving up the love ’em and leave ’em lifestyle? What happened to wanting a real relationship? Commitment.”
“Is this about Curvy Carla? I don’t even know her, Rick.”
“Never stopped you before.”
Sam winced. He hated who he’d been three, four years ago. “She told me she was alone and wanted to go home. I should’ve known better. But I played the Good Samaritan and drove her home. Didn’t even get out of the car, Rick. End of story. She’s a groupie. Had her hooks in Martelli until she got bored.”
“I believe you, but I had to check,” Rick said. “Your private life is your business, but I notice we’ve had a lot more success since you changed your ways.” He cleared his throat. “I would be remiss as your fiduciary partner and advisor if I didn’t point that out.”
“Find the right woman for me and I’ll join you with the house and the picket fence with kids’ toys on the front lawn.” The words slid out even though Sam doubted their truth. He wasn’t one to commit. At least he’d been telling himself that for years. But lately? He’d wondered if maybe there was someone out there for him.
Rick’s laugh came easy. “Deal, brother. Deal.”
Sam ended the call and turned onto Rosa Parks Boulevard. A fine day this had turned out to be. He’d gotten in with Dr. Morgan, but the therapy and follow-up visits would put him in Hearts Bend every week. Then Janice had pleaded with him to attend his dad’s sixtieth. Now he was about to own a Hearts Bend tradition, Haven’s Bakery. If he didn’t know better, he’d think this was some sort of celestial conspiracy.
Maybe it was time to be a man. Rick’s words, not his. Time to face the pain of his past. He wasn’t that fifteen-year-old anymore, watching his dad seduce another woman. Or watching his mom toss her suitcases into her car, declaring she was going to Charleston for some “me time.”
“I’ll be home soon, Sammy.”
Fifteen years later, he was still waiting.
3
“Are you sure you feel up to working this morning?” Chloe gathered her and Mom’s dirty breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink. She’d had her first chemo session yesterday morning and still seemed rather knocked out by it.
“I’m fine, Chloe.” Mom sounded uncharacteristically cranky. “I told you not to hover.” Except she wasn’t fine. She walked hunched over and her eyes were rimmed with dark circles.
“They told us you might be tired. There’s no crime in staying home to rest.” Chloe reached for her phone. “Let me call Frank Hardy and?—”
Mom clapped her hand over Chloe’s and lowered the phone. “What time is your interview?”
“I don’t think I should go. I need to be here for you.” On the way back from Ella’s Monday evening, they had paused by Haven’s and seen a sign in the window. Baker and Manager Wanted.
Mom called Bob and Donna while Chloe called the Atlanta area code to inquire. She talked to a headhunter who said she’d get back to her. So far, no call. Mom hung up with Bob saying the same. “He’ll call me back.” Which he did, ten minutes later as they walked into the house. “Bob says the new owner will see you Thursday at two.”
“Chloe LaRue, you’re going to that interview. I asked a favor of a dear friend, and you will keep your word.”
“And if I don’t? You’ll cut off my allowance?” Chloe forced amusement into her tone.
“Yes!” When Mom laughed, the gray pallor of her cheeks faded. “Chloe, I think this job will do you, and me, a world of good. I love having you near, but I’m used to living alone. You, my precious girl, must learn to get on with your life. Bob said the new owner is coming in to sign papers and it’d be nice to hire his new manager the same day. Now let me get ready for work.” Mom paused at the kitchen door. “When you get the job, we can meet for lunch now and then. Frank’s office is just down the street. At least until we move to the new building.”
“I’d like that,” Chloe said. Mom was planning ahead, thinking of a future. Chloe should take a page from her book.
Finishing the dishes, Chloe thought about the interview. She didn’t have to take the job if they offered it to her. Maman was more important than glazing donuts for the good folks of Hearts Bend. Then again, Mom seemed adamant about having some space. Apparently it was easy to get used to living alone.
Chloe prepped a snack of tea and some crackers and cheese, along with apple slices, for Mom to take to work. Much like the snacks Mom used to make for her when she had play practice after school.
