“To see what happens. To allow a new path to unfold. This is not the end of Honeysuckle Hollow.”
Tessa pushed her tea aside. Then she folded her arms on the table and dropped her head onto her arms. “It’s the end of having it rehabbed properly.” Her voice echoed in the cavity created by her arms. “A giant tree branch crushed the entire backside of the house.”
“It was necessary,” Crazy Kate said.
Tessa popped up her head. Before she could argue with Crazy Kate for her complete lack of empathy and compassion, the older woman pointed to Tessa’s cup of tea. “Drink that before you say something you’ll regret. You’re upset. I understand, but bricks and mortar can be repaired. Walls can be rebuilt. Nothing has happened that is irreparable.”
Tessa swallowed more tea and sighed. “Sure they can, but it costs money.A lotof money. More money than I have.”
Crazy Kate shrugged. “Your money did not build that house, nor did it keep it standing all these years. Perhapsyourmoney won’t be what repairs it completely. You’ve started the process of bringing Honeysuckle Hollow back to life. Perhaps others will finish it with you.”
Tessa’s forehead wrinkled. “What does that mean? Am I supposed to be comforted by that?”
Crazy Kate gave Tessa a scathing look. “You’resupposedto be comforted by that tea.” She lifted her mug to her lips and sipped. “You’d rather sit around here and mope? Or you’d rather I tell you that everything will work out according toyourplans?”
Feeling admonished, Tessa shrugged. Crazy Kate reached across the table and placed her hand on Tessa’s arm. Tessa looked into the woman’s dark eyes.
“Our plans are not always the best plans,” she said. “Right now, you don’t see how this one unfortunate event will connect together to form a part of the greater story. This is not what youwant, but perhaps it is what youneed. What this town needs.” Crazy Kate stood. Tessa watched her open the apartment door. “You’re not cast adrift on your own in this. That should give you comfort. Get some rest, because tomorrow is a new day, and I have a feeling it will be interesting.” She smiled, stepped outside, and closed the door.
Tessa finished her mug of tea. The desire to stay home and wallow faded, and she decided to walk up the street to her office. Paperwork kept her busy for an hour, and emails and phone calls kept her busy throughout the rest of the afternoon. When her cell phone rang, she was startled to see it was nearly five in the afternoon.
“Where are you?” Paul asked.
“At the office. Find everything you needed at the library?”
“It was productive. Mom and Dad want to go out to dinner tonight. You up for it?” When Tessa hesitated a couple of seconds, Paul continued, “I thought you’d feel that way. I told them it would be just me. But I’m making dinner for you, one of my specialties called a Wicked Broken Egg.”
The sound of the smile in his voice relaxed her. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. And, hey, you know you don’t have to make me dinner. I can fend for myself.”
“I want to,” Paul said.
Tessa ended the call and gathered her belongings. A dump truck with a bed full of broken limbs rumbled past, and Tessa wondered if the workers had been able to clear all the debris from the backyard and from inside the house. She should call Charlie, but she didn’t want to face more discouragement, so she ignored it as best as she could for the moment.
The apartment smelled like a sweet and salty affair, and Tessa’s stomach growled for the first time all day. “You’re going to spoil me. I’ll be ruined. Never able to return to my cereal dinners.”
Paul wore an oven mitt on one hand while he flipped a piece of ham over in a cast-iron skillet. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll ever give up your cereal, no matter what I cook.”
“You’re probably right,” she said as she walked into the kitchen and peered over his shoulder at the browning ham and two yellow yolks frying in the pan.
He bumped her out of the way with his hip and opened the oven. He pulled out what looked like a sliced bagel with cheddar cheese melted on both halves. As the aroma of the bagel wafted through the air, she wrinkled her nose.
“That smells sugary.”
“It should,” Paul said, sliding the bread halves onto a plate. “It’s a glazed donut.”
“With cheese?”
“Don’t look at me like that. You haven’t tried it yet. After one bite, I guarantee you won’t ever be the same again.”
“Because I’ll be scarred for life? Who eats donuts like that?”
Paul stacked crisp bacon, browned ham, potato sticks, and two over-easy eggs on the sliced, cheesy donut. Then he mashed the two halves together. He set the plate on the table with a flourish of his hand.
“Dinner is served, madam.” He folded a paper towel in half and slid it beneath the edge of the plate.
Tessa sat and stared at the donut breakfast sandwich. “This might be the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“That’s doubtful. Someone mentioned a mayonnaise-and-barbecue-Fritos sandwich phase.”
