But it did. She knew it, and Travis knew it, although he didn’t say anything more, probably not wanting to upset her further.
They said little on their way to Grandma Lou’s, but once they got there, he took on the task of greeting customers, allowing her to disappear into the kitchen.
She eyed the clock—the knife seemed to take forever to move a millimeter. Was it still only eight o’clock? Five customers visited the restaurant, but only three could afford to pay for meals—the others were looking for handouts from the pantry. Maybe it was time she stopped treating her customers like family. If they kept this up, they would be out on the street by the end of the month. But at least they still had the contest—finalists would be announced tomorrow, and if they won, it would be the lifeline they needed.
She tugged at her cotton T-shirt. She always dressed for comfort, but today her clothes felt too snug, too sticky. Today, she pined for her parents’ calm advice. Today, she wanted to scream and cry and flail her arms about and have a good old-fashioned temper tantrum. But she couldn’t afford to have an emotional breakdown. So she donned her apron and headed to the kitchen for her own brand of therapy. She pulled out the flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, milk, cream of tartar, and cold butter to make her dad’s homemade biscuits.
By the time Travis left to pick up supplies, and Rosie and the girls arrived at eleven, she had just pulled the first golden, flakey tray from the oven.
“Oh, my. Are those homemade biscuits I spy?”
Bethany removed her oven mitts and wiped her hands on a towel. Already, she felt a million times better. “Today is a biscuit kind of day.”
Rosie raised an eyebrow. “That bad, huh? Girls, give Miss Bethany a hug.”
The girls ran toward Bethany, and she crouched to take them into her arms. Above their heads, her gaze caught Rosie’s.
Her broad smile seemed forced in place. “Ay caramba.I’ll get the jam. Nobody is ever sad eating a warm biscuit with homemade strawberry jam.”
And that was the truth, Bethany thought when she bit into the buttery crust and a little jam dribbled down her chin. But when the biscuits were consumed and the jam wiped from her face, all the misery she felt at Hank’s abandonment returned tenfold.
“Girls, run and look in my purse in my locker. See if you can find my tissues.”
Tia and Tana ran to do their mother’s bidding, their feet pattering as they hit the wood floor.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you,” Rosie said, handing her a napkin and patting her back.
Bethany realized she was crying, a slow trickle of wet tears. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, but the trickle kept coming.
“I didn’t want to be,” she said. “I did everything I could not to.”
“Querida, don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have stopped from falling for Hank even if you were gagged andtied to the stove with your apron strings. Love knows no boundaries. Some things are meant to be.”
Bethany swiped at the annoying tears with the napkin and hiccupped. “Yes, I could have. I should have kept my distance. I should have listened to Elizabeth. She said Hank would break my heart. She warned me to stay away, but I ignored her.”
“Bah. The woman is a cold-hearted snake. You listen to me. We have a saying where I come from.Cuando alguien te da comida preparada con tanto amor, te está dando un pedacito de su corazón.When someone gives you the food they cook with so much love, they give you a piece of their heart. You couldn’t have stopped yourself from falling for Hank the minute he took that first bite of tomato soup. You couldn’t have stopped him any more than you could have stopped taking care of me and the girls. That’s just the kind of woman you are. It’s what makes you special,cariño.”
The tears were coming faster now, rolling down her cheeks in warm rivulets, like a summer rainstorm.
“Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me? Hank had his reasons for leaving, and I’m pretty certain they had little to do with you. Don’t blame yourself.”
Bethany couldn’t keep up with the napkin, so she stopped trying. “It’s just—I really care about him, Rosie. I thought he cared about me. How could I have been so wrong?”
Rosie embraced her, patting her head like a baby and placing it on her shoulder, where it made a wet patch. “I don’t know, honey, I don’t know. I think Hank does care about you as much as he is able to. I know he couldn’t take his eyes off you most of the time. This turn of events is real strange.”
Now the sobs began. Great big body-heaving sobs shecouldn’t contain. All the pain she held inside welled up and spilled over like a plugged sink with the water running. She couldn’t stop crying even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. She hugged Rosie and shuddered in her arms and allowed the deluge to wash over her.
“Let the tears flow, honey. Let them all flow. Tears arebueno. Tears aremuy bueno. They’ll help ease your pain better than any medicine I can give.”
“Miss Bethany, are you sad ’cause Mr. Hank left?” Tia returned with a wad full of tissues. She handed them to Bethany, who managed a nod.
“I’m sad, too,” Tana said. “Mr. Hank was nice.”
“C’mon girls. Let’s give Miss Bethany some space.” Rosie released her from her comforting embrace to usher her daughters to the dining area. She turned at the swinging doors. “You just sit and rest. I’ll take care of things out here until you’ve got yourself together. It may not seem like anything could ever be right again, but trust me, the passage of time will help. You’ve got the contest to look forward to. Won’t they announce the finalists tomorrow?”
Bethany managed a nod.
“It’s one day at a time,amiga. That’s all.”
