Barbecue and Bad News (13 page)

“The cups have ‘joy’ and ‘peace’ on them.” Savannah lifted the cup that had
JOY
scripted on it. “No wonder you love the set so much. What a great memory.”

“It is. That’s why it’s so hard to pick a favorite. Each is tied to something just as special as the next.”

“You and Tom were married a long time. Do you think that couples in small towns have longer marriages?”

Daphne thought for a moment. “You know, I wonder. I’ve never really thought about it, but I don’t know many people who have been divorced. Maybe the small town does have an impact. Let me think about that. This is for your book, isn’t it?”

“Yes, a little research,” she said.

“How fun.” She turned her attention back to her collection. “Do any of them strike you as extra special?”

“They’re all so different.” Savannah scanned the shelves. “You’re right. It is hard to pick one over the others, and I don’t even know the stories behind them.” She stopped and looked closer at a small teapot with a purplish base. The pretty purple swooped up the handle. On top of the handle was an intricately detailed butterfly lighting on wildflowers against a blue sky. “This one. This one might actually be my favorite.”

“One of my favorites too. Tom got that for me on my fiftieth birthday. It’s hand painted by the artisans of Franz. Look at the detail work on it.”

“Stunning.” The memories tied to the abundance of teapots of all shapes, sizes, and materials filled the room. She suddenly longed to have that many good memories in her life someday. She still had a storage unit back in Belles Corner with all of her parents’ things. There was no way that she could deal with any of it back then, and ever since it seemed easier to push to the side. For sixty bucks a month she could just pretend her parents were traveling abroad, which was what she still told people when she didn’t want to deal with the discussion.

Savannah felt her mood dip, and she really didn’t want to ruin what was starting out as a good day, so she changed the subject. “I know those silver sets on the top shelves are a lot of work.”

“Friends from church come over once a month and we put a little shine on them together. Everyone brings a dish to share and we make an afternoon of it. Makes fun work of it.” Daphne bumped Savannah’s arm playfully. “And it’s a good time for all of us to catch up on what’s been going on around town. You should join us next week.”

“I’d like that. If I’m still in town I might take you up on that.”

A timer sounded from the kitchen, and Daphne bounced to attention. “Oh, I made us some treats to go with our tea. Don’t let me ramble on about those silly teapots. I could tell those stories all day.”

“I love your stories.” Daphne’s memories touched Savannah in a way she hadn’t expected. She was here trying to get more information about the town, something a little edgy she could use in her column, but instead she was being tugged to a place that she’d held at arm’s length for a long time. A place like home. She followed Daphne to the kitchen, where Daphne pulled out a tray of mini quiches from the double wall oven.

The room filled with savory scents, and suddenly Savannah felt hungry.

Daphne tenderly plucked each bite-size morsel from the baking sheet and placed it just so on a serving dish. She picked up a covered plate with her other hand and headed out of the kitchen.

“Let me carry one of those,” Savannah offered.

“I’ve got it. Will you grab the napkins and silverware from the counter?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She swept the cloth napkins and silverware into her hand and followed Daphne into the living room.

Daphne lifted the tray to Savannah to offer her a quiche. “Please have one.”

“If these are as good as those deviled eggs, I know I’ll love them.” She helped herself to one from the plate and took a bite. She was tempted to mention her granny’s deviled egg recipe to Daphne. She suddenly felt very guilty that she might have given away the secret ingredient.

“Don’t you worry. If you don’t like it, I have some egg salad. Same recipe as those deviled eggs, although folks swear it’s different. I put it on my homemade poppy seed rolls and everyone goes on and on about them. I think it’s the roll that makes it taste different.”

“That sounds good.”

“Mac has been dying to get his hands on my poppy seed roll recipe. I might just have to leave it to him in my will!” Daphne grinned. “I’ll pack you some to go. You can have them for lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to that trouble.”

“No trouble at all. I love doing stuff like that. Did you have any brothers or sisters, Savannah?”

“No. I was an only child.”

“Do you want children?”

She picked up her teacup, resting the saucer in her lap and took a sip of her tea. “I haven’t really thought about it much. I work a lot. I guess that probably means no.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing. You find the right special someone and you’ll be thinking differently. People are starting families so much later these days. You have plenty of time.”

“It’s not really on my radar. A special someone or children.”

Daphne patted her leg. “When the right one comes along, you’ll know the answer to that question.”

Savannah’s whole body tingled under Daphne’s gentle words and touch. To love like that was a gift, but it also came with a cost. When it was taken from you it was the worst sorrow imaginable. Nearly unbearable. She’d promised herself she’d never feel that way again. So far, she’d held love off. Keeping family and friends at a safe distance so she didn’t risk falling into that trap. She wasn’t going to break her lucky streak, no matter how appealing Daphne made it sound. But Daphne would never understand that. “Tell me more about the tearoom. You’re an amazing cook. You have all the equipment and place settings; why haven’t you done it?”

“My son always asks me the same thing. I think I’ve waited too long now. It’s a lot of work for a woman my age. No one else has any interest in a tearoom.”

“He sounds supportive. That’s nice that y’all are so close. I think it would be a blast to own a tearoom. Too bad I don’t live here. I’d help you in a hot second.”

Daphne’s eyes danced, and Savannah felt warning flags snapping in the make-believe breeze.

Savannah righted the course of the conversation. “But then I’ll be moving on in a week or so.” She paused and took a sip of her tea to give that time to sink in. “You could always just be open four days a week. Maybe focus more on special planned events rather than daily hours. Whatever you can handle. I think you’d be a huge success. I bet those church gals who polish your silver would pitch in too.”

“Really? Do you think young people would appreciate a nice tea?”

“There are several tearooms in the DC area. I think tea is one thing that never goes out of style. It’s timeless.”

“Timeless Tea!” Daphne practically screeched it.

“What?”

“Timeless Tea. That would be the perfect name for my shop. I’d never been able to come up with the right name. Not until right this second. You are an angel. Maybe this is a sign.”

It was hard not to get caught up in her excitement. “Maybe it is. Good luck!”

“My son is going to be so excited for me. He’s been on me to get busy on a project or hobby or something. He’ll be so surprised.”

“He sounds like an angel.”

“He is. Handsome too.” She gave Savannah a wink. “He’s single, you know.”

“Too bad I live so far away.” How else do you politely tell a woman you have zero interest in a blind date with her perfect son, which was clearly what she was angling for? She scanned the room for pictures of him. In that moment, she realized there were no pictures out, but there were empty spaces where they had been, like on the mantel. And on the end table there was even a rectangular spot amid the dust where something had been plucked from its place. He was probably as ugly as all get out. Even his momma didn’t want to scare her off. Now that
was
bad.

“Now dear, what’s really holding you up there in Washington, DC? You said yourself you could work from anywhere.”

“That’s true. I could.”

“Or you could do a different job. Maybe you should follow your dreams, just like you’re telling me.”

Savannah wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. The truth was, she’d never stopped—heck, even paused—long enough to consider what it was she really wanted out of life, or what her dreams even were. She’d just run full-speed ahead with the first thing she’d tried—working for the paper. There’d been a time when she and Momma had talked about her going to culinary school, but that hadn’t seemed fun once Momma was gone. So she’d put her focus on the first work she landed. Anything to keep her days busy and herself so exhausted that she might sleep, because those nights when she lay there wide awake thinking about her parents, that was almost more than she could bear. And some nights it felt like just yesterday that God had snatched them from her life.

“What kind of jobs are there in a small town the size of Adams Grove?” Maybe there’d be a hook in that subject.

“A lot of people work over at the prison. And there’s the plant. They used to employ a few hundred people there making chipboard, but they shut that down a while back. But we have probably all the same stuff you have in the city, just fewer of them. I mean, we have banks, and stores, and a newspaper and library. Everything a family needs.”

“Not as many differences under the covers as you think at first glance between big cities and small towns, I guess.”

Daphne pursed her lips. “Well, we don’t have public transportation. Amtrak used to stop through here, but they canceled that stop. The bus station closed down on Main Street, so now they pick up over at the truck stop, but that’s to go to other towns, not around here. You pretty much have to have a car to get around.”

“I guess most everybody drives a car around here. In the city, public transportation is so easy.”

“I’ve been to your fair city. It feels like another planet. Everything is so intense. The volume. Traffic, people, buildings, crime . . . everything multiplied by something.” Daphne must have been bored with that conversation because she abandoned it pretty quickly, saying, “I’m so glad you accepted my invitation today. I felt a connection when we met.”

“I really appreciate you spending your time with someone just passing through.”

“You’ll be back. I just know it. Did I tell you that I even have plans drawn up for my tearoom?”

“No, you didn’t. You mean like a business plan or an architectural plan?”

“Professionally done by an architect. Sweet man. He lives on the other side of town. He and Tom were good friends. He heard me going on and on one night about the possibilities, and a week later he came back with these drawings. Want to see them?”

“I’d love to see them.”

Daphne rushed down the hall and came back carrying a cardboard tube. “They’re drawn based on the general shape and square footage of most of the buildings on Main Street. So I could pretty much make it work with any of those spaces without a lot of adjustments. They’re pretty basic, but I love the way he did the artist’s rendering with even the goodies on the tables and all.”

She pried the end of the tube off and pulled out the plans. “Grab an end,” she said to Savannah as they moved from the living room to the dining room. They spread the paper wide across the shiny wood of the dining table.

Daphne grabbed teacups from the shelf behind her and weighted the corners of the drawing.

“Oh, Daphne. You’re right.” Savannah reached out and ran her fingers across what looked like fine linen tablecloths, and there was the butterfly teapot they’d just been talking about. “I feel like I could step right into that shop and sit in that chair. It’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?”

“So many very detailed touches. The wooden drawers of tea are so elegant along that wall.”

“Yes. My Tom was so handy. He could build anything. My son would be able to help with a lot of that too. Not building the furniture, like Tom did, but he can fix just about anything. Cooks a mean steak too. He gets that from me.”

“You make him sound like Mr. Perfect.”

“He is. He just hasn’t found the right girl yet.”

“Never?”

“He’s had some serious relationships, but so far not that everlasting love that I know is out there for all of us.”

Or he was a freak. If he hadn’t settled down with the right girl yet, he was probably gay, kinky, or a player. No man was that perfect and still alone, but darn if Daphne wasn’t a sweetheart. Maybe her son
was
just that perfect.

“I hate to spend his inheritance, but he keeps telling me that I should follow my dreams and open up the tearoom, and if I’m not going to do that, then I should spend it all traveling to all the wonderful tearooms around the world.”

“That would be an amazing trip to take.”

“It would, but not alone. Trips aren’t about the places. They’re about sharing those places with someone else. I almost opened the tearoom a couple years ago. I was so close. Mac was selling one of his buildings, but I dragged my feet too long and his girlfriend put a yoga studio in.”

“Oh, I saw that. I love all the bright colors on the outside of that building.”

“Not that one . . . same building, but different yoga center. Mac got mixed up with this gal from up near Hale’s Vineyard. She was bad news. We all thought so, but then we all love Mac, so we might be a little protective of him. But we were right about her. She’s serving time in prison for her wrongdoing now.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.” She wondered if that had anything to do with that item in the police blotter that Scott had told her to leave out.

“It wasn’t. People always think nothing happens in a small town, but we just know how to keep our business within the town limits.”

Savannah wondered how talking within the town limits made it any different. Gossip, news, call it what you want. It traveled.

“It was pretty heartbreaking for Mac, but he’s recovered and the new gal that opened the yoga studio there is a transplant from Virginia Beach. Nice girl. A little New Age for folks around here, but I think it’s done the town good to have a little dose of health on Main Street.”