“It’s good, Momma," Sofia says on her knees. “Can I watch television?" I get up, grabbing her plate and her cup, and carry it over to the living room. I put on her show, and she sits down on her little stool watching it.
"I’m having another one," Savannah says when I walk back to the kitchen.
"I made three dozen,” I say, and her eyes get big, and she wiggles her eyebrows.
"How does it feel to be back?" she asks, chewing.
"It’s different," I answer her, taking my own bite. “But then again, it’s like coming home. If that makes any sense."
"It totally does,” she says. “Doesn’t coming home feel good?” Grabbing a napkin and cleaning her hands. “It’s why I came over, actually." I look at her, not saying anything, and I suddenly get hot around my neck, the sweet tea looking to come back up. “I don’t know if you’ve been to town yet,” she says.
"A couple of times,” I say. “When I got to town and then when I went to see Mr. Devlyn."
"I don’t know if you saw the new little strip mall that the town just put in." She takes a bite of her scone.
"The one next to the diner?" I ask, wondering if there is another one and then thinking I really need to go into town and see what else has changed.
"Yes,” she says. “The town decided that it needed more commercial businesses in order to drum up tourists."
"That sounds like a great idea,” I say. “What are they thinking of putting there?”
"So far we have a beauty salon and spa,” she says. “A flower shop, and I was hoping that we could have a little coffee shop."
"Wouldn’t that be too close to the diner?" I ask. “They sell coffee."
"Yes," she says, leaning in now. “But I want a little coffee shop where you can go in and grab a cookie and a latte or iced coffee."
"Yes," I say, nodding my head. “There is one like that right near where we live, and they have the best cheese danishes alive."
"Exactly." She points at me. “That is exactly what I was thinking. Some small tables, opens in the morning, and closes at five."
"I would go," I tell her, and she gets excited. “If I lived here, that is."
"Well, what would you say if I told you that I want to open the shop?” she says, and I tilt my head to the side. “And I want you to be my business partner." My eyebrows pinch together.
"I’m a CPA,” I say. “Do you need help with the books?"
"Well …" She looks down, and I can sense she is nervous. “I was hoping you would help me run it and …" Her voice goes low. “That you would handle the baking side of the business."
I look at her shocked. “Again," I say. “I’m a CPA, not a baker."
"That bread you had was the best bread I’ve ever had, and it’s not just me. Everyone who came and had it has called Charlotte, asking for her recipe." My mouth hangs open. “These scones would sell out in thirty minutes."
"I’m not here for much longer,” I say. “I have a month, and then I have to be back at work. I just came to tie all the loose ends together."
"What if you didn’t leave?” she says, and I just sit here. The thought never ever crossed my mind.
"I have a life,” I say. “A full-time job. Friends. Sofia’s school."
"You could have that here and be your own boss,” she says and holds up her hand. “Don’t tell me just yet. Why don’t you think about it and let me know?"
"I just sold this house to Casey,” I say. “I have a …" I don’t continue talking because she leans over and puts her hand on mine.
"Maybe this was meant to be,” she says, looking at me, her blue eyes crystal. “Maybe you were meant to come home and stay." Thoughts in my head spin around and around as I think of her words. "You don’t have to make a decision right now. Why don’t you meet me in a couple of days and we can look over things?” she tells me. “Then you can decide."
She pushes the chair away from the table. “Let me pack up some scones." I get up and grab a Tupperware container and put a dozen in there, placing the lid on it but not closing it. “You have to let it have a little air, or they will get soggy,” I say, and she grabs it from me and smells them.
"I might have to eat one in the car,” she says, turning to say bye to Sofia.
"Thank you,” she says when I walk her to the door and outside. “For the hospitality."
She gets in the car, and I watch her drive off. Sitting on the porch looking out at the driveway and then turning to see the flower bed, I wonder if it’s meant to be. I can almost hear Pops’ voice clear as day talking to me. “You never know until you try." The tears now come without me even knowing. "I really wish you were here, Pops,” I say, my head hanging.