The Shop on Main(4)

Bella took a sip of her wine. “I’m happy with my life. I am. I love the store and I’m so glad that Mr. Potter gave me a break on the lease if I’d keep the commercial kitchen in the back of the store. I just don’t use that area except to occasionally stash things in the fridge, or heat water for tea without having to go upstairs to the apartment. He wanted the kitchen left in case the next renter— as if I would ever leave willingly— wanted to open another restaurant there, like it was before I started leasing it.”

“I know, it had been Sylvia’s Grill for years. When her son, Jake, took it over, he sold it soon after. Which was too bad, because it was a great place to pop in and get something to eat. No offense to Magnolia Cafe, Bec.”

“Jake’s decision to sell was my good luck. It’s been a great place for the store and to live.”

“Jake sure just up and sold it suddenly, didn’t he? Always wondered ‘bout that.” Becky Lee said.

“Yes, he did. I didn’t understand it, because that building had been his grandparents’ before his momma started Sylvia’s Grill. I remember when I was a little girl, his grandmother had a bakery there and lived upstairs with his grandfather. I remember those pies she baked. They were wonderful. We always got our pies for Thanksgiving from her. I thought it was strange that the family would let it go.” Jenny shrugged her shoulders.

“I think Mr. Potter felt sorry for me when Rick left us, and since the commercial kitchen space was worthless to me, Mr. Potter used it as an excuse to keep my rent so reasonable.” Bella took another chocolate-covered strawberry. Surely more chocolate would help her stress level. “I’m just glad business has picked up in the last few months.”

“We do seem to be getting our share of tourist traffic. It helps that those two old plantations out Richland Road converted to inns. They attract a lot of people wanting that antebellum Southern get-away,” Becky Lee said.

“We’re getting more people moving here and commuting to New Orleans for work, too. The school is expecting record enrollment for the next school year,” Jenny said.

Bella plopped a canapé in her mouth, convincing herself that it was okay to over indulge in celebration of her shiny new savings account. “Yum, this canapé is great. I swear I’m going to learn to cook someday.”

“You’ve been saying that ever since we had home economics together in high school,” Becky Lee teased.

“Well, I got that stupid C in home ec while you got an A, of course. Then there was that time in junior high that I caught our kitchen on fire. Luckily my dad put it out before too much damage was done.”

“Well, notice I never ask you to help cook in my kitchen.” Becky Lee grinned.

Bella sat back in the comfortable chair, enjoying the conversation with her friends, letting the stress of the day and her annoyance with Rick wash away. The three friends had known each other since grade school days. In high school Jenny had gone on to a prestigious private high school while Becky Lee and Bella had stayed at the public high school. They had all three remained fast friends through the years, the kind of friends you could call in the middle of the night when your husband said he was leaving you. Like Rick had done. He married his new wife—the perfect little homemaker—the day after their divorce had been final. Seriously, who does that?

Not to mention his new wife was a world-class cook. Her boys were always telling her what fabulous meals TheNewMrsHardy had made. Bella was glad she’d taken back her maiden name, Amaud, when she and Rick had gotten divorced. It was one of her first steps toward independence, toward control.

“So, how is Nathan doing?” Bella pulled herself away from her own problems and turned to her friend. Jenny’s son had been getting into a bit of trouble ever since Jenny’s husband had died about a year ago.

“I’m thinking I’ll ground him for, oh say, the rest of his life.” Jenny sighed. “I know he misses Joseph. I do, too. I keep hoping Nathan will settle down before he gets into any real trouble.”

“I heard the sheriff brought him home from a party where there had been underage drinking.” Becky Lee always knew what was going on in town. She had her whole Magnolia Cafe connection. Eventually everyone in town dropped by the cafe at one time or another and chatted with Becky Lee. She was everyone’s favorite waitress, so she was always in the know.

“There are no secrets in Comfort Crossing, are there?” Jenny sighed again.

The three friends looked at each other. But no one said a word. They all knew there were some secrets in Comfort Crossing. Big secrets. The swear-you’d-keep-the-secret-until-your-dying-day type secrets. The kind of secrets the three friends had been keeping for years.