The Magnolia Cafe(6)

Keely looked about the same as she had in high school. Long brown hair, though she’d had it pulled back in some kind of efficient braid type thing. She’d walked through the restaurant, so confident, just like she owned the place. He laughed to himself. Well, he guessed she did own the place, at least partially.

She was different in some ways, too. Not the carefree girl who ran with the same crowd of friends he did growing up. Hunt had tried so hard to fit in with that crowd, pretend he was an untroubled, happy-go-lucky kid like they all were, trying to make life easier on Natalie so she’d at least a chance of a normal life. He shook his head. Failures. This town just made him think of all of his failures. He couldn’t leave town fast enough. Though, Natalie could use his help getting settled into her new life, so he’d promised himself he’d at least stay a bit. A short bit. Before Natalie started to rely on him and he’d a chance to screw that up.

His thoughts bounced back to Keely. He tried to remember if she’d dated anyone in high school. She must have, but he couldn’t remember anyone special.

She’d looked tired last night, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. It must be a lot of responsibility to manage Magnolia Cafe and keep everything running smoothly. He bet it was the only income that Keely, Katherine, and their mom had.

Just then Jamie came bursting into the sunroom. “Hey, Uncle Hunt. I’m starving. What are you making for breakfast?”

He gathered Jamie up and tossed him over his shoulder. “Let’s go see, kiddo.”

~ * ~

Keely slipped the key into the lock on the front door and pushed into the Magnolia Cafe promptly at six o’clock. They opened at six thirty, but she had a lot to get done today. She was behind on the bill paying, mainly because she was juggling funds to make ends meet. She needed to do the paychecks for the week, too. She needed a few minutes to get organized before their early morning regulars came into the cafe. Frank, Bob, and Eddie came in and sat at the same table in the corner before heading off to their various jobs. Sue Lake dropped in to grab coffee and a quick bite to eat most mornings before heading over to the high school where she taught history. Widow Schneider came by later in the mornings for her hot tea, toast, and company. Melanie, the cook, usually invited Miz Schneider back to chat in the kitchen while she worked on the lunch items.

She inhaled the scent of cinnamon filling the cafe, announcing their famous cinnamon rolls were already baking. She was darn lucky to have found Melanie, an excellent cook and an early riser to boot. Melanie slipped in early and started baking at five each morning, Tuesday through Saturday. Melanie said her Sundays were for going to church. So on Sundays Keely had a string of part-time cooks that came and went. Mostly went. She’d been known to put on an apron and be the cook herself on Sunday. Thankfully, Melanie got extra pies and rolls made on Saturday afternoons that they used for their Sunday customers.

“Hey, Melanie. Smells good.”

“You want one? There’s a batch already out of the oven.” Melanie waved a spatula in the general direction of the cinnamon rolls. “And the coffee’s made.”

“Thanks.” Keely grabbed a cinnamon roll. Icing rolled down the sides like icicles hanging from a roof. Not that she’d seen that in person, because it sure didn’t get cold enough in Comfort Crossing, Mississippi to have icicles. After pouring a steaming cup of coffee—black, of course, nothing frou-frou in her coffee—she headed for her office.

The morning sped by and the errant waitress who didn’t show up last night arrived late with excuses for her no show and why she was late this morning. Keely knew she had to deal with her. Fire her. Find someone new. They just couldn’t keep working shorthanded. Thank goodness for reliable, even keel, Becky Lee. She’d been with them for years, always dependable, and the customers loved her.

The new waitress wasn’t watching where she was going—too busy eyeing the Johnson boy—and bumped into Keely. The tray the girl was carrying crashed to floor along with dirty dishes and glasses. The girl looked at Keely expectantly, like she thought her boss would clean up the mess.

Keely nodded towards the kitchen. “There’s a broom by the back door.”

The waitress stalked off to find it with one last look at the Johnson boy.

Keely stepped over the mess and headed over to the register. She looked up and saw Hunt and Natalie walk through the front door, with Natalie’s three boys in tow. “Hi, table for five?”

“Hey, Keely. The boys are starving and they’re tired of my breakfasts.” Hunt ruffled the hair on his youngest nephew’s head.