Wanted: The Perfect Mom

“Matt works at the electronics factory, right?”

“Not anymore. The plant shut down just before Christmas and he got laid off. They have four kids. I think this one’s the oldest.”

“Huh. Good-looking kid. He’s built like a wrestler.” Holly grabbed a bar towel and wiped up a spill. She noticed a ceramic bowl by the cash register. Bright yellow letters spelled out Tip Jar. A yellow slipper-shaped flower grew between the two words. “Where did this come from?”

Carolyn tilted her head. “I made it in my kiln.”

Holly raised her eyebrows and gave her sister-in-law an appraising glance. “Aren’t you the creative one?”

Carolyn smoothed the front of the chocolate-brown apron with the Wildflower logo on the front. “I’m an art teacher. I hope I’m creative.”

A memory of Carolyn, eight months pregnant with the twins and accepting her college diploma, flashed into Holly’s mind. How did she do it? “Well, if we ever get any tips, you three should divide them. Bad enough you’re working for free.”

“Just for a couple months till you get on your feet. No worries, sis-in-law. But I should go pick up the twins. They had a scout meeting after school and if I leave now, I should get there just in time.” She untied her apron and pulled it over her head, dislodging a clip. Curly chestnut hair spilled over her shoulders.

Sonny came around the end of the counter and clasped his wife around the waist. “Oh, I like it when you let your hair down, baby.” Fourteen years of marriage and three children had done nothing to cool their obvious affection. High school sweethearts, Sonny had waited for Carolyn to graduate while he’d started a construction business.

Holly pushed the couple toward the seating area. “Staff only behind the counter.”

Sonny backed away slowly, his arms still locked around his wife’s waist. “I’m staff. Who do you think built this counter, girlie?”

“I know you did, all great and powerful contractor brother.” She turned at the sound of the bell over the door.

A willowy blonde woman entered, looking as if she’d just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. With her hair in a French twist, she wore a navy blue pantsuit with a pale blue shell.

Holly returned to the cash register and studied the new arrival. Somehow she knew the woman wasn’t a local.

She tried to catch Carolyn’s eye as she hurried toward the door but instead caught Sonny’s.

He pointed a finger at her as he held the door for his wife. “I haven’t forgotten about that other deal, Holly. I’ll be back.”

Holly stuck her tongue out at her brother but pulled it back just as the blonde approached the counter.

“I’ll have a nonfat cappuccino, extra hot, ma’am.” The woman’s Southern accent was slight but recognizable. Diamond studs twinkled in her ears.

Holly pulled the milk from the refrigerator and poured. Lifting the metal pitcher to the wand, she puzzled over her customer while keeping watch on the thermometer. Probably visiting family. Tom Johnson’s sister worked down South somewhere. She frothed the milk and, with her other hand, pulled a shot of espresso. Giving the concoction a quick stir, she set the cup in front of the woman who had placed a few bills on the counter.

“Keep the change, honey.” She walked to one of the chairs, her high heels tapping, and she sat, set the cup on the table and pulled a laptop out of a large leather purse.

Holly couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She rested her hands on the open drawer of the cash register. The woman sat with her legs crossed at the ankle so just a portion of red sole showed.

“Well, are you?”

Holly jumped when she discovered her mother at her elbow. “You scared me to death, Mom. I thought you were in the kitchen.”

“I was.” A crease appeared between Rose’s brows. “I asked you a question and you were miles away.”

Holly’s hands were still resting on the drawer. What was she doing? Change. Keep the change. She removed three quarters from the drawer, edged around her mother and dropped the change in the tip jar with a clang.

Her mother pursed her lips, closed the cash drawer and eyed her steadily.

Holly rested her hands on her mother’s shoulders. “Sorry, Mom. I was thinking. What were you saying?”

Rose’s face relaxed and she wrapped one arm around Holly’s waist and pointed to the display case with the other. “We’re completely sold out of whoopie pies and no bakes. Did you order more for tomorrow?”

Holly peered into the display case. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “You’d think people would want something like scones and biscotti. No bakes are so simple. One minute on the stove, plop a spoonful on waxed paper and you’re done. I can’t cook but even I can make no bakes.”

“Buying is easier.” Rose took a crumb-covered plate from the case. “We still like our old-fashioned goodies but nobody bakes anymore. People are busy, and making cookies is just too much work.” She reached into the open case.

“Mom, I’ll do that.” Holly put a hand on her mother’s back.

Rose waved her off and said, “I’m fine. Why don’t you talk to Sue at the bakery? She might have to hire more help.” Withdrawing her head from the case, her mother put a hand on her hip and smiled. “Now, isn’t that nice? Your business is providing work to people in town.”

“Tell that to Dad,” Holly said.

The four teenagers had finished their drinks and were heading for the door. The only other customer was the blonde woman, who appeared content with her cappuccino and laptop.

“Now, Holly...”

“Okay, I’ll 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.