Wanted: The Perfect Mom. T. R. McClure
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be quick.”
“Take your time.” Louise came out of the kitchen and headed for the cups left by the teens. “We’re all caught up. We can handle things. How about it, Rose?”
Holly smiled at her best friend. “Have I told you how much I appreciate your help with this venture?”
Cups in hand, Louise rolled her eyes. With a glance at Holly’s mother, she lowered her voice. “Think you can handle seeing Mac around? That stuff happened a long time ago.”
Louise had been Holly’s most ardent defender when the older boys would start their taunts. As small as she was, they just laughed at her attempts to quiet them. Holly shrugged as she picked up the tip jar and jingled the change inside. She didn’t care to think about Mac’s reappearance in their lives. “He insulted my coffee.”
Louise smiled. “Your coffee will win him over, just like everyone else in town.”
“Everyone except my father,” Holly said. “Chris is the only one who has traveled. He’s used to places like this. But the others still think coffee should cost a quarter.”
“They’re a minority. Stop worrying.”
“What if they’re right, Weaz? I’ve invested my life savings in this shop, not to mention the loan from my parents and your free help. If the business goes under, I’ll have nothing to show for it. My father will never let me hear the end of it.”
“If you wanted to be safe you would’ve stayed enlisted. But you took a chance. If it doesn’t work out, you’re young. You’ll find something else.”
“Let’s hope everyone in town doesn’t share McAndrews’s fifty-cents-a-cup attitude.” She peered into the tip jar. “We got tips.” Holly dumped the change in her hand and counted out fifteen dollars and fifty-two cents. “Somebody put in their two cents’ worth, most likely my brother, who thinks he’s funny.”
As Louise started to back through the swinging door into the kitchen, she said, “Add the cash to the register.”
“No way. You, Mom and Carolyn get the tips. It’s the least I can do.” Dumping the change in the jar, Holly pushed back her guilt that no one was accepting a paycheck yet. She needed to start making a profit soon. By fall, when everyone returned to their usual duties, she would need an employee or two.
“What else would I be doing?” A resigned smile graced her face before she disappeared into the kitchen.
Holly could hear her loading cups into the dishwasher and her heart went out to her brave friend.
Kneeling by the display case, Rose caught her gaze. “I think working here has been good for Louise. She seems more like her old self. You go on, we’re fine.”
Holly untied her apron and hung it on the hook next to the kitchen door. Thinking of Louise’s tragedy, she realized her own memories of being teased in gym class couldn’t compare. “Okay, I’m out of here. I hope you don’t get a busload of senior citizens while I’m gone.”
Holly left the shop and stood outside, savoring the fresh spring air. For a minute, she allowed herself to visualize The Wildflower as a success. A comfortable spot where locals came to relax and visit. A hangout after Friday night football games at the high school. After all, she had duplicated the school colors in her shop.
The Bear Meadows Cubs were expected to win the state title this year. Her shop could even be a stopover for fans traveling through town on Saturdays on their way to Penn State football games in the fall. Then maybe her father would come around. Not that she ever expected him to say he was wrong.
Holly stretched her arms over her head. Her back cracked loudly. “Ah, that feels better.” She shrugged her shoulders, took a few steps to the right and glanced in the window of the beauty salon. Seeing the proprietor with a customer, she stuck her head in the door. “Hi, Megan. Hi, Mrs. Fleck.”
Mrs. Fleck brought a hand out from under her drape and waved at Holly. Pieces of her hair had been pulled through a foil cap. “I’m getting highlights. What do you think, Holly? Maybe I’m too old for this nonsense. I’ve never dyed my hair.”
“You’ll look great. You music types are always at the forefront of fashion.”
Mrs. Fleck blushed and waved away her compliment. “Before I started teaching, I was in a girl band, believe it or not.”
Holly leaned against the doorjamb. “I always figured you for a wild woman, Mrs. Fleck.”
Her own long dark hair caught back in a ponytail, Megan wiped some white paste on a lock of hair and flashed a smile. “Hey, I like having you right next door, Holly. Your caffeine helped me through two dye jobs and a three-year-old’s first haircut.”
“So I heard. These walls are thin.” Holly laughed. “Glad to help. See you later.” With a wave, she left and entered the computer shop.
Pierre Lefonte stood behind a glass case sorting boxes. “Holly. How are you, mademoiselle? How is your system working? Good, I hope.”
Holly leaned on the counter. “So far, so good. Thank you, Pierre. You didn’t come over for your free coffee.”
Pierre flipped a lock of hair out of sparkling brown eyes and grinned at her. “You were busy, no? Perhaps tomorrow. And I would prefer a double espresso. None of your weak American coffee for me.”
“We’ll convert you one of these days.” Holly straightened and wagged a finger. “I will hold you to it, then. One double espresso. Au revoir.”
“Au revoir, mon amie.” Pierre went back to sorting as Holly left the shop and continued on the boardwalk.
She peered through the window of the used clothing store. Seeing no sign of the extravagantly dressed Cheri, she continued to the bakery, where the scent of fresh bread lingered in the air. “I love the smell in this place.” She leaned on the counter and smiled at the short, heavyset woman standing at the open cash register. “The flowers by the door look nice. Did you put the pot together?”
Periodically licking her thumb as she counted one-dollar bills, Sue peered at Holly over horn-rimmed reading glasses. “Cheri seems to think flowers will draw in more customers. Tell her to put the pot in front of her door. I don’t have time to fuss with flowers.” She banged a roll of quarters on the edge of the cash drawer. “Did you let yourself into the shop yesterday after I closed?”
Holly straightened. “Of course not. I’d only use the key you gave me in case of emergency.” A flicker of unease caused her to look around. “Why do you ask?”
Sue stopped counting and rested her hands on the open drawer. Glancing at the filled racks, she shook her head. “I could have sworn I made more peanut butter cookies yesterday.” She resumed counting. “I don’t know. Ever since Brad started this midlife crisis nonsense I haven’t been able to think straight.” She pressed her lips together and her eyes glistened.
“I’m sorry, Sue.” Holly’s heart went out to her new friend. Everyone in town knew Brad’s midlife crisis involved another woman. “Did you tell anyone about the missing things?”
“I called the police station. Now I wish I hadn’t. Chief McAndrews will think I’ve gone off my rocker if I say somebody’s been stealing cookies.” She tucked a few strands of dyed blond hair behind her ear. “Forget I said anything, Holly. Did you make any sales?”
“Did I make any sales? Do owls hoot? We sold out of whoopie pies and no bakes.”
Sue’s hands stilled and her head jerked up, blue eyes wide. “I thought you had more than enough. I thought you had too many, in fact, and they would go stale. I thought—”
“You’ve got to think positive, Sue.” Holly couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a smile on the baker’s face. She had known Sue first as a volunteer at school functions. Ten years later, no trace of that happy woman remained. “No chance of your