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Patriot's Passing: Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 1 Page 3
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“Cool, I can hang with Grandpa. Maybe he’ll take me to the diner again.”
“Sure honey, that sounds fun,” Margo nodded. “Let me just finish up with the breakfast dishes while you get dressed and we can drop off the boxes on our way,” her mother gave her a long look.
Once the kitchen had been cleaned, and Ryan had been tasked with helping Brent finish up some lawn work, mother and daughter carried cardboard boxes, filled with miscellaneous items culled from the basement and various closets and cupboards, out to the car. Rossalyn had no sooner buckled her seat belt than her mother turned to her with an eyebrow raised in her all-too-familiar way. She’d never been able to hide anything from her mother, and today proved to be no exception.
“All right, out with it… what are we up to?” her mother demanded, giving her that knowing look.
Rossalyn blew out a sigh, wondering if she hadn’t truly lost her mind, but she took a deep breath and told her mother the truth anyway.
“I want to take a road trip to Chatsworth, to go see that abandoned building. I don’t know why, but I just can’t get it out of my mind. I think that maybe if I go inside and see what a disaster it is, I’ll be able to move on and forget about it,” she confessed.
Margo grinned, nodding. “I think that sounds like a great idea, let’s go,” she said, putting the car in reverse. “How are we going to get inside?”
“I emailed the realtor who has it listed, and she left the keys to the property at the bank, so all we have to do is pick them up and we can show ourselves around.”
Margo couldn’t help but smile in anticipation. “You’re really interested in this, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know why,” Rossalyn shook her head. “I mean, it’s crazy, right? I don’t know anyone in that town, I’ve never run a business… what am I thinking?” she bit her lip.
“I have no idea what you’re thinking, but it sounds like one heck of a fresh start to me. When you don’t know anyone in town, there are no preconceived notions of who you are or what you’re capable of. That can be pretty nice. And as far as you running a business, you’re smart, you’re hardworking, and you can probably do just about anything that you put your mind to,” her mother patted her knee, keeping her eyes on the road. “You’re stronger than you think, honey, and your father and I will support any decision that you make. One hundred percent.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Rossalyn’s eyes grew moist and she looked out the window until she could regain control.
“Besides, we’re retired now, we can live vicariously through your new adventures,” Margo grinned.
***
“Here they are,” the lovely young woman in the bank handed over the keys. “Just lock up when you leave and bring them on back,” she smiled.
“Will do, thanks,” Rossalyn replied, wondering if everyone in the small town was this friendly and trusting.
She got back into the car and her mother drove the few blocks to the Sugar Shack. When she parked in front of it, Rossalyn sat, turning the keys over and over in her hand.
“Well, here we are,” Margo prompted, encouraging her daughter.
“Yep,” was the soft reply.
“C’mon honey, let’s get in there and see how terrible it is, so that we can go get some ice cream before we head back,” her mother prodded gently.
Rossalyn nodded, chewing on her lower lip, then she took a breath and opened the car door.
The faded clapboard siding was dusty and in need of paint, a thought which filled Rossalyn with trepidation as she put the key in the front door lock. What was she thinking? Could she even afford to buy this place and fix it up? Why would she even consider something that would potentially put her in way over her head? She pushed away the scared and negative thoughts that were tumbling through her brain and opened the door. The dust that rose up tickled the back of her throat as she stepped inside and flipped on the lights.
The little shop had a long stainless steel counter, with barstools bolted to the floor in front of it, much like a fifties soda fountain. Behind it was another counter, open to a commercial kitchen, in which sat ghostlike appliances shrouded in canvas protectors. The original wood floor had been painted in a black and white checkerboard pattern which was now a bit scuffed and worn. The walls had once been white, and were now a dull shade of grey from caked-on layers of dust.
“This is cute,” Margo nodded, gazing around the shop.
“You think so?” Rossalyn’s eyes were wide.
“Yes, I do. Let’s go take a look at the kitchen,” she took charge, leading the way. “Wow, it looks like whoever ran this business before was a bit of a neat freak. Everything is dusty, but I don’t see a spot of grease or dirt anywhere. I wonder if all of these appliances come with the building.”
“They do,” Rossalyn murmured. “It said so in the online listing.”
She trailed along behind her mother as they inspected the walk-in refrigerator and freezer, the huge gas stove and grill, and tiny office in the back. After they’d looked around inside several times, they ventured outside. On one side of the building was a small patio that was surrounded by lattice and had beams overhead. Strings of old Christmas lights dangled from the beams, making the patio seem somewhat forlorn.
Standing in the brilliant autumn sunshine, Margo crossed her arms and regarded her daughter kindly. “Well, what do you think?”
Rossalyn shook her head and wrapped her arms around her midsection. “There has to be something seriously wrong with it.”
“What on earth makes you say that? It’s adorable and looks like it’s in great shape,” her mother countered, giving her a pointed look over the top of her glasses.
“It just seems too…” she faltered.
“Perfect? Full of possibilities?” Margo supplied with a smile.
“Yeah, actually,” Rossalyn let out a rueful chuckle. “I’m terrified, Mom. What if I buy this place and it turns out to be a colossal failure?”
“What if it turns out to be a colossal success?”
“That’s scary too,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.
“Rossie, I’ve never known you to run from a challenge. You married a wonderful man whose job required you to be strong and self-sufficient, and you handled it like a champ. You’ve raised a polite, respectful son, in a time when most kids don’t even talk to their parents. If this is what you want to do, don’t let fear stop you. Do what you always do… take some time, do your research, and make an educated decision.”
Rossalyn nodded. “You’re right, as usual,” she smiled softly. “I’ll do that. I’ll check out everything that I can find about the direction I’m thinking of going in, and see if it’s something that I can actually pull off. I have the money from Will’s life insurance, so I’m sure that I can afford the building, plus some refinishing, but I need to see how much I’ll need for startup.”
“Are you going to tell me what you have in mind?”
“Are you going to laugh at me?”
“Maybe,” her mother grinned. “No promises.”
“Okay, as odd as it sounds, our girls’ day out, plus something Ryan said, made me think of a wild and crazy idea that may or may not work,” Rossalyn’s eyes gleamed with a touch of excitement, doing her mother’s heart a world of good.
“Okay, you have my attention, now out with it. The suspense is killing me,” Margo laughed, glad to see her daughter’s enthusiasm.
“Yesterday morning, you made the best bacon ever, I could seriously live off of that stuff. Then, when we went to lunch at the diner, that tender, savory ham made my mouth water. And last night, when we went to the game, we had pork chop sandwiches that were to die for. When Ryan mentioned the bacon book that he saw at the library, while I was eating a breakfast sausage, I got the idea for this place. I could serve all kinds of pork—bacon, ham, chops, pulled pork, sausages—and make all kinds of comfort food side dishes to go with it, and even desserts. What do you think?” Rossalyn asked her mom, af
raid that her idea might get shot down.
“I think it sounds delicious, and in this part of the country, where hearty food is important, you might be a smashing success. Even folks coming off the highway would be enticed at the possibility,” Margo nodded with approval. “See, I knew you were a smart cookie,” she grinned.
“This is crazy,” Rossalyn whispered.
“And it just might work,” her mother chuckled. “Let’s go get some ice cream and fantasize about fixing the place up.”
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
“I found the book for you, Mom,” Ryan bounded down the stairs when Rossalyn and her mother came back to the house.
He handed her the book Bacon Bonanza, and just seeing the cover made her hungry.
“Thanks, Ry. Come sit with me for a minute, I have something I want to talk to you about,” she led him to the kitchen table.
“Uh-oh, am I in trouble?” he asked, his eyes grave.
Rossalyn laughed.
“No, silly, you’re not in trouble. At least, not that I know of,” she teased. “I just have some decisions to make and I wanted to get your opinion on some things.”
“Okay, what’s up?”
“Remember that little green building that we stopped at in Chatsworth? The one with all the cobwebs?”
“Yup,” he nodded.
“I’m thinking I might buy it. I have some research to do, so that I can figure out if I can make a business work there, but I wanted to know how you’d feel if we moved to Chatsworth. I know that you don’t know anyone there, and…”
“I don’t know anyone here either, besides Grandma and Grandpa,” Ryan pointed out.
“That’s a good point, but we’ve never lived in a small town like that, and…”
“But the Marine base is like a small town, so it probably wouldn’t be too much different,” he interrupted, clearly excited. “So, what kind of business would you put in there?”
When Rossalyn told him about her idea, he grinned from ear to ear.
“Oh wow, can I eat there every day?” he asked.
“You may have to,” Rossalyn chuckled.
“I think it sounds like a great idea,” the teenager enthused.
“You’re not the least bit scared about moving to a completely new town?”
“Why should I be scared? We always look at moving as an adventure, remember. Besides, you know what Dad said… Be brave, be true, get it done. We can do it, Mom. I know we can. I’ll even help after school and stuff. It’ll be totally cool. Are we done now? Grandpa was going to show me how he sharpens the blades on the lawn mower,” Ryan bounced in his chair, excited at the thought of new adventures, and eager to get to the garage.
“Yep, we’re done,” Rossalyn replied, watching with amusement as he launched from the chair, headed for the garage door.
“It’s gonna be awesome, Mom. Go for it,” he called out, without a backward glance.
***
“So, what did you find out?” Margo asked her daughter the next day at breakfast.
The circles under Rossalyn’s eyes were a dead giveaway that she’d been up all night doing research.
“Well… I did a market study of the area, I got facts and figures on traffic flow generated through the town from the highways, and I looked into startup costs and renovation costs,” she gratefully accepted the mug of coffee that her mother handed her and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“And?” Margo put one hand on her hip, sipping from her own mug with the other.
“And, it looks like there’s absolutely no reason that what I’m proposing wouldn’t succeed. It’s already zoned properly, because it used to be a café, so all I’d have to do is get my permits and get started,” Rossalyn replied, staring into her coffee mug.
“Then what are you waiting for, honey?”
“Yeah, Mom, what are you waiting for?” Ryan chimed in, pausing in the act of shoveling huge bites of waffle into his mouth.
“I’ll make an offer today,” Rossalyn decided, buoyed by the confidence in the eyes of her mother and son. “Let’s do this.”
Ryan jumped up from the table, gave her a quick hug and went back to his waffles.
Teary-eyed, her mother came over for an embrace as well. “I’m so proud of you, Rossie. Anything you need, your father and I are here for you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Rossalyn squeezed her mother tight, feeling for a moment like a little girl again.
***
Rossalyn made a lowball offer on the Sugar Shack. Her thinking was that, if the offer got rejected, it wasn’t meant to be, and if it were accepted, she’d get one heck of a great deal on the place. She would live with either result, and vacillated back and forth between which alternative she preferred. She’d been antsy and out of sorts ever since, so Margo sent her to the store with orders to go buy something to fix for dinner. Her dad would barbeque whatever she brought back, and she and her mother could make the side dishes.
She pulled into the parking lot of Baum’s grocery, thinking how nice it was that some things never changed. The store had been the same since her childhood, and she still knew her way around all of the aisles. Picking up some ground beef for burgers and a package of brats, she headed for the produce section and was in the process of selecting the perfect potatoes for her mother’s old-fashioned potato salad, when she heard a familiar voice at her shoulder.
“Hey, Rossie,” Jake Blanchard grinned, holding a green plastic store tote filled with fruits and vegetables.
“Hey Jake,” she smiled, glad that his presence didn’t seem to fluster her the way that it had the first time that she saw him at the football game. “Are you a vegetarian?” she asked, noticing his basket.
“No, I just try to eat mostly healthy. My wife is vegan though.”
“Oh, you’re married? Congratulations!” Rossalyn exclaimed, meaning it. “Do I know her?”
“No, we met in college. We have a daughter named Katie too, she’s thirteen.”
“Oh wow, Ryan’s age, that’s great.”
“Depends on the day,” Jake chuckled. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I actually need to get going, but we should definitely have coffee when you get a chance. We can catch up on the past seventeen years.”
“Sounds good,” Rossalyn smiled and waved. It seemed that life had turned out well for her former flame, and she couldn’t be more pleased.
She was honestly thankful that she hadn’t reacted to Jake emotionally, the way that she had at the football game, and realized that her pounding heart at the time probably had more to do with the memories that seeing him again had brought back. High school had been an idyllic time in her life, carefree and fun. It was only natural that she’d feel a bit nostalgic about being back home and seeing old friends.
Filling up her basket with potato salad ingredients and seven packages of bacon, Rossalyn made her way to the checkout, looking forward to experimenting with some of the recipes in Ryan’s bacon book. She just had a feeling that somehow, some way, the Sugar Shack was going to be hers, and she wanted to be ready.
***
“What are you doing, Mom?” Ryan asked.
Rossalyn frowned, concentrating on the intricate operation that she was currently performing.
“Making roses,” she said absently, forming a swirl of bacon and holding it together with toothpicks. There were a handful of others like it on a rack over a foil-lined cookie sheet, waiting for the oven to preheat. “Wanna help?”
“Sure, but that looks too complicated,” the teen observed, peering around her while she hunched over the counter.
“Go to the cabinet beside the fridge and grab the bag of brown sugar,” she instructed, never taking her eyes off of her “rose.”
“It’s squishy,” Ryan commented, carrying the clear plastic bag of brown sugar back to the table.
“Yup,” she agreed. “See that thing that looks like window screen attached to a wire hoop, hanging beside the pot rack?” she ask
ed, pointing toward the sifter.
“Yeah,” he looked at the strange contraption, tilting his head.
“Bring that over here too.”
“Got it,” he said, putting the sifter down on the table.
“Awesome. Now take half a cup of the sugar and pour it into that thing,” she said, finally finishing the last rose.
Ryan did as she asked, and stood by, holding the sifter of sugar.
“Okay, now hover over the roses, and tap it with your other hand so that it sprinkles down on top of them. Perfect!” she smiled. “Do you want to put the tray in the oven?”
“Heck no,” he shook his head. “It’d be just my luck that I’d trip over something and drop the whole pan.”
“Nah, c’mon, I have faith in you,” Rossalyn put her hands on her hips. “Give it a shot. If you drop it, I’ll make more, it won’t be a tragedy.”
“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Ryan gingerly picked up the tray and pushed it inside the searing heat of the oven, closing it afterward.
“See, mission accomplished,” his mother grinned.
“Are those for a party or something?”
“Nope, they’re just an experiment from your book to see how many different things I can make with bacon.”