In Silence

Just the thought had Avery’s mouth watering. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had a real biscuit?”

“Since your last visit, I suspect,” Cherry answered, following Avery. They reached the kitchen and she set the basket on the counter. “Yankees flat can’t make a decent biscuit. There, I’ve said it.”

Avery laughed. She supposed the other woman was right. Learning how to make things like the perfect baking powder biscuit was a rite of passage for Southern girls.

And like many of those womanly rites of passage, she had failed miserably at it.

Cherry had come prepared: from the basket she took two blue-and-white-checked place mats, matching napkins, flatware, a miniature vase and carefully wrapped yellow rose. She filled the vase with water and dropped in the flower. “There,” she said. “A proper breakfast table.”

Avery poured the coffees and the two women took a seat at the table. Curling her fingers around the warm mug, Avery made a sound of appreciation as she sipped the hot liquid.

“Bad night?” Cherry asked sympathetically, bringing her own cup to her lips.

“The worst. Couldn’t sleep. Then when I did, had nightmares.”

“That’s to be expected, I imagine. Considering.”

Considering. Avery looked away. She cleared her throat. “This was so sweet of you.”

“My pleasure.” Cherry smoothed the napkin in her lap. “I meant what I said last night, I’ve missed you. We all have.” She met Avery’s eyes. “You’re one of us, you know. Always will be.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Cherry?” Avery asked, smiling. “Like, you can take the girl out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the girl?”

“Something like that.” She returned Avery’s smile; leaned toward her. “But you know what? There’s nothing wrong with that, in my humble, country opinion. So there.”

Avery laughed and helped herself to one of the biscuits. She broke off a piece. It was moist, dense and still warm. She spread on jam, popped it in her mouth and made a sound of pure contentment. Too many meals like this and the one last night, and she wouldn’t be able to snap her blue jeans.

She broke off another piece. “So, what’s going on with you, Cherry? Didn’t you graduate from Nicholls State a couple years ago?”

“Harvard on the bayou to us grads. And it was last year. Got a degree in nutrition. Not much call for nutritionists in Cypress Springs,” she finished with a shrug. “I guess I didn’t think that through.”

“You might try Baton Rouge or—”

“I’m not leaving Cypress Springs.”

“But you’d be close enough to—”

“No,” she said flatly. “This is my home.”

Awkward silence fell between them. Avery broke it first. “So what are you doing now?”

“I help Peg out down at the Azalea Café. And I sit on the boards of a couple charities. Teach Sunday school. Make Mom’s life easier whenever I can.”

“Has she been ill?”

She hesitated, then smiled. “Not at all. It’s just … she’s getting older. I don’t like to see her working herself to a frazzle.”

Avery took another sip of her coffee. “You live at home?”

“Mmm.” She set down her cup. “It seemed silly not to. They have so much room.” She paused a moment. “Mama and I talked about opening our own catering business. Not party or special-events catering, but one of those caterers who specialize in nutritious meals for busy families. We were going to call it Gourmet-To-Go or Gourmet Express.”

“I’ve read a number of articles about those caterers. Apparently, it’s the new big thing. I think you two would be great at that.”

Cherry smiled, expression pleased. “You really think so?”

“With the way you both cook? Are you kidding? I’d be your first customer.”

Her smile faltered. “We couldn’t seem to pull it together.

Besides, I’m not like you, Avery. I don’t want some big, fancy career. I want to be a wife and mother. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Avery wished she could be as certain of what she wanted. Of what would make her happy. Once upon a time she had been. Once upon a time, it seemed, she had known everything.

Avery leaned toward the other woman. “So, who is he? There must be a guy in the picture. Someone special.”

The pleasure faded from Cherry’s face. “There was. He—Do you remember Karl Wright?”

Avery nodded. “I remember him well. He and Matt were good friends.”

“Best friends,” Cherry corrected. “After Matt and Hunter … fell out. Anyway, we had something special … at least I thought we did. It didn’t work out.”

Avery reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“He just up and … left. Went to California. We’d begun talking marriage and—”

She let out a sharp breath and stood. She crossed to the window and for a long moment simply stared out at the bright morning. Finally she glanced back at Avery. “I was pushing. Too hard, obviously. He called Matt and said goodbye. But not me.”

“I’m really sorry, Cherry.”

She continued as if Avery hadn’t spoken. “Matt urged him to call me. Talk it out. Compromise, but … “ Her voice trailed helplessly off.

“But he didn’t.”

“No. He’d talked about moving to California. I always resisted. I didn’t want to leave my family. Or Cypress Springs. Now I wish … “

Her voice trailed off again. Avery stood and crossed to her. She laid a hand on her shoulder. “Someone else will come along, Cherry. The right one.”

Cherry covered her hand. She met Avery’s eyes, hers filled with tears. “In this town? Do you know how few eligible bachelors there are here? How few guys my age? They all leave. I wish I wanted a career, like you. Because I could do that on my own. But what I want more than anything takes two. It’s just not fai—”

Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard; cleared her throat. “I sound the bitter old spinster I am.”

Avery smiled at that. “You’re twenty-four, Cherry. Hardly a spinster.”

“But that’s not the way I … It hurts, Avery.”

“I know.” Avery thought of what Cherry had said the night before, about loving someone to the point of tragedy. In light of this conversation, her comment concerned Avery. She told her so.

Cherry wiped her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything crazy. Besides,” she added, visibly brightening, “maybe Karl will come back? You did.”