Second-Chance Sweet Shop

She parked the van beside Charlotte’s brand-new Corolla. Sasha had purchased the vehicle as a birthday gift a week after returning to The Falls, because her mother’s car had spent more time in the garage than it had on the road. She ignored Charlotte’s complaint that she didn’t need a new car, now that she was retired, and that a used one would suffice. Sasha had had to remind the older woman that she was entitled to own a vehicle that hadn’t belonged to someone else first.

She got out, unlocked the front door, walked into the house and was met with mouthwatering aromas wafting to her nose. “Mama, I’m home,” Sasha called out as she dropped her tote on a bench seat and left her shoes on the mat inside the door.

Charlotte came out of the kitchen wearing her ubiquitous bibbed apron. Sasha could not remember a time when her mother did not wear an apron when cooking. “I thought you were coming home much later.”

Sasha ran her hand through the curls falling over her forehead. “I changed my mind.”

“Are you feeling all right?”

She registered the concern in Charlotte’s voice. “I’m just a little tired.” The apprehension coupled with euphoria she’d felt earlier that morning had dissipated like air leaking out of a balloon. “I’m going to eat with you, then take a long soak in the tub before going to bed.”

“Did you talk to Dr. Adams?” Charlotte asked.

Sasha smiled. “Yes. He gave me the papers I need to put Kiera on the payroll. I asked him about him setting up his dental practice, and he gave me some good advice. He also promised to become a steady customer if I bake some of his favorite breads.”

Charlotte wrapped an arm around Sasha’s waist. “Come. We’ll talk in the kitchen. I still have to whip up the mashed potatoes.”

Sasha sniffed the air. “You made meat loaf.” Her mother nodded. Charlotte knew meat loaf with mashed potatoes was her favorite comfort food. There had been a time when as a wife and mother Charlotte made it a practice to make her husband and children’s favorite dishes once a week. For Sasha it was meat loaf. Fried chicken for her brother Philip, grilled pork chops for Stephen and beef stew for her father.

“Yes. And it’s time I take it out of the oven.” Reaching for an oven mitt, Charlotte opened the eye-level oven and set the hot pan on a trivet.

“I’m going to wash my hands, and then I’ll finish the potatoes,” Sasha volunteered.

“Are you sure?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes. Sit down and put your feet up.”

She did not want to remind her mother that she had been up before dawn and needed at least eight to ten hours of sleep to keep up her stamina. But Sasha hoped things would change with her new hire. Now Charlotte would be able to leave the shop midday and return home to rest before starting dinner.

“I’m not an invalid,” Charlotte argued softly, as she opened the refrigerator and took out a bowl of Greek salad and a cruet with dressing.

“I know that, Mama. But remember what the doctor said about overtiring yourself. You have a follow-up medical checkup next month and I know you’re looking forward to good news.”

“I am. But I feel more like a toddler than a grandmother having to take naps in the afternoon.”

Married at eighteen, Charlotte had delivered Philip at nineteen, and he, following in his mother’s footsteps, married within days of graduating high school. He made Charlotte a grandmother before her fortieth birthday.

“You’ll be back to your former self when you least expect it.”

After laying out another place setting, Charlotte sat down. She smiled. “That’s what I’m hoping. And what about you, Natasha?”

Sasha halted washing her hands in one of the twin sinks. “What about me, Mama?”

“Do you resent having to come back to The Falls after living the high life in Nashville?”

Sasha went completely still before reaching for a paper towel to dry her hands. “Why would you ask me that?”

Charlotte shrugged under a flower-sprigged blouse. The tiny blue flowers were an exact match for her eyes. “There are times when I see so much sadness in your eyes that I believe you’d rather be somewhere else.”

Pushing her hands into a pair of oven mitts, Sasha picked up the pot of boiled potatoes and emptied it into a large colander, steam temporarily clouding her vision. “If I’d wanted to be somewhere else, I never would’ve come home.”

“I hope you didn’t come back for me.”

Sasha closed her eyes for several seconds as she carefully chose her words. She didn’t know what had triggered her mother to question her motive for returning to her hometown. “I came back for me and you, Mama. I was so sick of the so-called high life that there were days when I didn’t want to get out of bed. There was a time when I couldn’t wait to leave The Falls, and then fast-forward fourteen years and I couldn’t wait to come back. My only concerns are you getting well and making certain the bakeshop will be successful. When I mentioned my apprehension to Dwight, he reassured me what I’m feeling is normal for anyone opening a new business.”

“I’m surprised he’s going to allow his daughter to work for you.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Everyone knows he’s very protective of that girl. That’s probably the reason why he hasn’t remarried.”

“How long has he been divorced?”

“Kiera may have been in the second grade when his wife left him.”

Charlotte mentioning Dwight’s marital status stirred Sasha’s curiosity about the attractive dentist. “Why did they break up?” She riced the potatoes, added milk, unsalted melted butter, garlic powder, fresh chives, and then whisked the mixture until it was smooth and fluffy.

“I don’t know if there’s any truth to it, but folks were saying Adrienne didn’t want him to set up a practice in Wickham Falls and she gave him an ultimatum. In the end, she left, and he stayed.”

“But didn’t she know when she married him that he didn’t want to leave The Falls?” Sasha asked. There were very few people in town Charlotte wasn’t familiar with. After thirty years as a cafeteria worker for Johnson County Public Schools, she had come to know every student from kindergarten through twelfth grade during her tenure.

“I don’t know. The only thing I can say is the Wheelers spoiled Adrienne because she was the only girl in a family with four boys, and with her looks she knew she could have any boy she wanted. And once she set her sights on Dwight it was all she wrote. Would you mind if I open a bottle of that fancy wine you sent me?” Charlotte asked, changing the topic of conversation. “After all, we are celebrating your grand opening, and there are a few bottles chilling in the fridge.”

“You’re right about that, Mama.” Once Grant went on an extended ten-city tour, Sasha had shipped her clothes, wine collection and personal possessions to Wickham Falls. She had become quite the wine connoisseur once she learned to pair those which complemented fish, red meat and poultry. “Red or champagne?”

“Champagne.”

Before moving to Tennessee, Sasha rarely had mother-daughter dates, but since returning, she had come to see another side of Charlotte’s personality. As a young wife and mother, Charlotte had sought to shield her children from her husband’s temper tantrums, while taking the brunt of his constant bitching and moaning about how much he hated his job as an orderly at the county hospital. Sasha expertly removed the cork from the bottle and filled two flutes with the pale bubbly wine. She touched her glass to Charlotte’s. “A toast to Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe.”

Charlotte smiled. “Hear, hear!”

Between sips of champagne, bites of succulent meat loaf and garlic-infused mashed potatoes, she felt completely relaxed for the first time since getting out of bed earlier that morning. And once she recalled the events of the day, Sasha knew her grand opening had been a rousing success.

She peered over the flute at the updated kitchen. When she’d returned to Wickham Falls for her father’s funeral, it was as if she saw the kitchen and bathrooms in the house where she’d grown up for the first time. Had they always been that outdated, or was she comparing them to the ones in the ultramodern mansion she’d shared with her then-husband?

Charlotte refused to accept money for the renovations, so Sasha contacted a local contractor and had him send her plans to redo the kitchen, full bath and the half bath off the mudroom. When the contracting crew showed up to begin work, her mother called and read her the riot act. Sasha hung up, waited a week and then called Charlotte back. She could not stop talking about how much she loved her new kitchen.

The money for the renovations hadn’t come from what she’d earned as a pastry chef, but from an account Adele Harvey’s financial manager had established for her following the older woman’s death. No one was more shocked than Sasha when she had been summoned to the reading of Adele’s will and informed she’d been left enough money to take her into old age, if she didn’t squander it.

After her second glass of champagne, Sasha was unable to smother a yawn. “As soon as I help you clean up the kitchen, I’m going upstairs to take a bath and then turn in for the night.”

Charlotte touched the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “You don’t have to help me. I took a nap this afternoon, so I’m good.”

Sasha stared across the table at her mother. She’d styled her hair in a becoming bob that showed her delicate features to their best advantage. Although she’d been widowed for seven years, Charlotte had never spoken about dating or the possibility of marrying again. However, it was different with Sasha. At thirty-two, she hoped she would find someone with whom she could fall in love, marry and have one or two children. Thankfully being married to Grant had not turned her off of marriage as a whole. If or when she did decide to date again, she was certain to be cognizant of the signs she’d chosen to ignore with Grant. She had been so blinded by love that she’d surrendered her will and had permitted her husband to control her very existence.

He had insisted she travel with him whenever he was on tour, attend his recording sessions and of course all the televised award shows. She had smiled pretty for the camera even if they’d had an argument earlier that night. After a while Sasha had had enough and decided she wanted out.

Here in The Falls, she did not have to concern herself about being dressed just so or going out without makeup to conceal her freckles. It had taken her living in a plastic world where she always had to be perfect for the camera for her to appreciate the laid-back comfortability of a small town in the heart of West Virginia’s coal country.