Patriot's Passing: Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 1 Page 4

  “In case we get the Sugar Shack?”

  “Exactly,” Rossalyn nodded.

  “I hope we do. I think it’ll be fun, and I’ll have lots of good stuff to eat.”

  “Well, it’ll be a lot of hard work too,” she reminded him.

  “You always work hard, Mom. Why not work hard at something cool?”

  “You’re pretty wise for a wiseguy. Wonder where that came from?” she teased, bursting with pride.

  “From Dad… duh,” he shot back with a mischievous grin, darting out of reach.

  “Why I oughta…” she chased him from the room, threatening a good tickling.

  ***

  “Oh honey,” Margo’s eyes practically rolled back in her head as she bit into a candied bacon rose. “These things are amazing. I’m glad your shop is going to be in Chatsworth, I’d gain a hundred pounds if you were nearby,” she teased.

  “Well, we don’t know if I’ll even have a shop yet, but I have to agree, these things are both pretty and delicious,” Rossalyn popped one into her mouth.

  “What smells so good out here?” Brent came into the kitchen, inhaling deeply.

  “Roses. Here have one,” Rossalyn passed him the plate of treats.

  “Oh, so this must be what your mother meant when she said I never buy her flowers anymore,” he joked, picking up one of the roses and putting the whole thing in his mouth. “Wow,” he exclaimed through a mouthful of bacon. “Are the rest of these for me?”

  “You just put that plate down, Brent,” Margo scolded. “You know what the doctor said about your cholesterol.”

  “This is cholesterol-free bacon, right Rossie?” he winked.

  “Oh yeah, definitely,” she grinned. “I mean, roses are from plants, so these are actually probably good for you.”

  “What am I going to do with you two?” her mother shook her head, enjoying the banter.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Ryan sped by, stealing the plate from his grandfather and heading upstairs.

  “You’re my hero,” Margo called out, laughing.

  “You’re welcome,” the teenager called back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  Rossalyn and Ryan stood in the parking lot, staring at the Sugar Shack, arms crossed.

  “So, what’s it going to look like?” Ryan asked, knowing that today was the first day of renovations.

  “I want to make it a place where your dad would’ve liked to hang out. Somewhere that he’d be comfortable,” she said quietly.

  “I like that idea,” the teenager nodded soberly. “So, you’re going to make it look like a garage,” he teased.

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Rossalyn mused.

  “Seriously? Mom, I was totally kidding,” he looked at her incredulously.

  “Your dad loved motorcycles,” she began, thinking aloud. “We could do the walls in bright orange, with black, red and yellow flames coming up from the floor… we can leave the checkerboard pattern on the wood floor, but freshen it up, so that it looks like the starting flag in a race, and paint the exterior red, with black trim. What do you think?”

  “I like it,” Ryan agreed. “I think it’ll be awesome. What are you going to call it? It’s definitely not going to look like a Sugar Shack anymore.”

  “That’s for sure,” Rossalyn chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I came up with Hawg Heaven… what do you think?”

  “Hahaha, that’s great! It works for motorcycles and pork, I get it,” he laughed aloud. “That’s perfect, Mom. I think Dad would approve.”

  “Well then, it’s settled,” she put her arm around his shoulders. “Let’s start pulling some of these weeds, and I can send Grandpa to the store for paint and supplies.”

  “I can help Grandpa get the stuff,” Ryan volunteered hopefully.

  “Nice try. Go grab some gardening gloves and get to work,” Rossalyn chuckled, steering him in the direction of the lawn tools.

  “Do I get bacon for lunch at least?”

  “Depends on how many weeds you pull. I may break out the lima beans and liver if we don’t get this place whipped into shape,” she teased.

  “Ugh, I hope you’re not going to serve that here,” Ryan made a face and uprooted a huge dandelion, tossing it into a wheelbarrow.

  “Nah, I wouldn’t want to scare the customers.”

  ***

  In an amazingly short amount of time, Rossalyn, Ryan, and her parents had the interior of Hawg Heaven cleaned, and the exterior painted and landscaped. She’d ordered a sign for the front of the building from a place that her mom had recommended in Hartman, but it wouldn’t be in for a few days. She’d also met with a billboard company, and would have advertisements for her new venture gracing both sides of the highway with photos of sizzling bacon and directions as to which exit to take for a trip to Hawg Heaven.

  Despite Margo’s vehement protests, Rossalyn had insisted that she wanted to stay in the shop overnight, so that she could get the interior painted and figure out how she wanted to set up the inside. The previous owner had left tons of plates and bowls that were plain white, with two red strips around the rims, which would fit in perfectly with the décor. She had also ordered plenty of red and white checkered basket liners, which would go in the black baskets that she’d bought for finger foods.

  After hugs and kisses all around, and multiple promises to call if she changed her mind, Rossalyn was alone in her shop at last. There was a sleeping bag rolled up on the counter, and a backpack that she’d brought, knowing that she’d want to stay overnight. For reasons that she couldn’t explain, she needed to be alone in the small shop. She wanted to get a feel for the place and see if she could somehow make it her own. There were still so many doubts which threatened to derail her and throw her off course. Her heart still ached with longing for her husband. He’d been gone on secret missions for quite some time, but she’d always thought that he’d be coming home. Now, after seeing his empty casket buried, she’d had to relinquish the hope that had kept her going for so long.

  Tears rolled silently down Rossalyn’s cheeks as she thought about her beloved Will, and brushing them aside, she took a deep breath and grabbed a paint roller. She’d work through her grief the way that she always did, by focusing on the task at hand and letting her tears flow unchecked. After she painted the bright orange walls and affixed the flame decals just above the baseboards, she’d start on sanding and painting the floor. Rossalyn Channing was no stranger to hard work, and she’d do whatever it took to make Hawg Heaven a tribute to her loving husband and a legacy for her son.

  Rossie’s arms ached after painting the entire public space of the shop, but the bright orange cheered her, and she turned in circles, looking for bare spots as she rubbed her upper arms absently. Will would have loved this place, and she would have dearly loved it if he could have been by her side in this brave new adventure. Unbidden tears sprang forth again, so she grabbed her sander and went to work on the floor, trying to beat back the blues with hard work.

  She only had to hit a few spots in the floor, just enough to give the surface some teeth so that it would accept the paint. Since junior high, she had followed her dad around the garage while he puttered, much like Ryan did now. She thought about her dad, and how wonderful he’d been as a parent, then felt sad for Ryan, because Will had been an amazing dad too, and now he was gone. Rossalyn fully realized that she was wallowing, indulging her tears, for the first time since the funeral, and she didn’t care. She’d insisted on being here, by herself, for a reason.

  She’d get the wailing and gnashing of teeth out of her system, she’d allow the fierce agony to squeeze the life out of her, for one last time, and then she’d be done. She had a son to raise and now a business to run, so there’d be no time to indulge her soft side anytime soon. Now was her time to be just Will’s grieving wife, who felt lost and alone, so that she’d have the strength to carry on later, when Ryan and Hawg Heaven needed her.

  R
ossalyn’s hands were soon coated with a thin layer of powdered paint and sawdust, which meant that she couldn’t wipe her eyes, so she didn’t, she just let the tears fall, watching them turn the dust to paste as she moved the sander across the floor. Her head got a little swimmy and she realized that, grieving or not, she had to eat in order to accomplish what she’d set out to do, so she dusted off her hands on her jeans and opened the cooler of goodies that her mother had left for her.

  Her mealtime routine was the same as it had been ever since the officers in dress blues had come to her door to tell her about Will—she’d take a bite without tasting it, and chew the mass of whatever it was, which had no more taste than the sawdust all around her, until she could bring herself to swallow it. Drink, bite, repeat. Meals hadn’t had any appeal for her for quite some time, even her mother’s delightful home cooking was pushed away mostly half-eaten.

  Rossalyn had nodded and smiled politely at the repeated assurances that things would get better, knowing that the people who said it meant well, but she wasn’t holding her breath for it to happen anytime soon. She was a realist. She had accepted that her life was going to just plain suck for a while, but had resolved to do the best she could to keep on going, for her sake and Ryan’s. After she had done her best to eat, she rewrapped the other half of her turkey sandwich, took another swig from her bottle of water, and went back to work.

  It was around two-thirty in the morning when she finally crawled into her sleeping bag on one of the stainless steel kitchen counters. The white squares of the floor had been painted, she’d finish up the black one’s tomorrow, before Ryan and her parents arrived with breakfast. They’d gone to a local hotel, and had been checking in on her via text all evening. She’d always answer, but often it was only with a “’k.” Everyone involved knew Rossie well enough to know that sometimes she just needed her space, so they respected it. Worn out from her evening of grieving and renovating, she rested her head in the crook of her arm and went to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Ryan sat alone at the lunch table, munching his roast beef sandwich, observing the antics and conversations of other students in the lunchroom, feeling awkward and out of place. Life on Marine bases had been very different. When you went to school with other kids whose parents hauled them all over the world every couple of years, everyone understood the importance of making friends quickly and reaching out to new people, it was a survival thing. It also hadn’t hurt that, while Ryan was quiet and shy, his dad was a real American hero and everyone on base knew it.

  Here, in the tiny town of Chatsworth, no one knew or cared about his dad, and that hurt more than he’d admit. No one had been mean to him, but despite having received more than his share of curious stares, so far it seemed like no one was interested enough to approach him, and Ryan wasn’t exactly the walk-up-and-start-a-conversation type.

  “Hey, you’re the new kid,” a dark-haired girl with glasses, who looked like Velma from Scooby-Doo, carried her hot lunch tray over and sat across the table from him without being asked. “I’m Kelsey,” she supplied, opening her carton of chocolate milk.

  “Ryan. Yeah, I’m the new kid,” he gave her a half smile, hoping that she was actually nice and hadn’t come over just to torment him.

  “Where’d you come from?” Kelsey opened up her meatball sandwich, picking out all of the mushrooms.

  “North Carolina.” Ryan left it at that. He’d heard stories from some of his friends that civilians didn’t always accept military kids. They thought they were weird or something.

  “Wow,” she took a bite of her sandwich and stared at him curiously. “You’re gonna be really cold in a couple of months.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard,” he nodded, munching a carrot stick.

  “I’ve lived here my whole life, it’s boring. There’s nothing to do and almost never anything exciting happening. Why did you move here?”

  “My mom bought the Sugar Shack. She’s turning it into a really cool café type thing.”

  Kelsey put her sandwich down. “Your mom? Don’t you mean your mom and dad?”

  Ryan swallowed. He figured the topic would come up, he just hadn’t known that it would be so soon.

  “No, my dad… died. It’s just my mom and me.”

  “Oh geez, that’s awful. Was it a long time ago?” she asked, pushing up her glasses with the back of her hand so that she didn’t get meatball sauce on them.

  “No, it wasn’t long at all,” Ryan looked down, focusing his attention on opening his water bottle.

  Kelsey took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

  “I have a stepdad,” she said finally. “I don’t think I’d be terribly upset if he disappeared.”

  “Is he mean?” Ryan blinked, taken aback and glad for the change of subject.

  “Not to me, he just ignores me, but I have no idea why my mom puts up with his crap,” she shook her head. “Are you going to the Halloween dance?”

  “I… uh, I don’t know,” Ryan shrugged. He’d only heard about the dance today, when he’d gone to the office to get his schedule, there had been a poster in the hall.

  “You should go. You could meet some people. Nobody dances, they just play music and we wear costumes and eat and stuff,” she explained.

  “Sounds kinda lame,” Ryan grinned.

  “Oh, it is. Totally lame. But it’s all we’ve got,” Kelsey giggled. “I’m on the Student Council, and we’ll be decorating the gym after school on Friday. Wanna help?” she asked, downing her milk.

  “Maybe. I’ll have to check and see if my mom needs me.”

  “You should tell her to be careful,” Kelsey’s expression turned serious.

  “Careful? Why?” he looked at her curiously, taking a break from repacking his insulated lunch bag.

  “There are lots of people who come into town from the highway, and sometimes they cause trouble, that’s all.”

  “Like what kind of trouble?” Ryan frowned.

  “You know, robbery and vandalism and stuff. They don’t care about our town because they don’t live here, so they just do bad stuff and then leave,” she shrugged.

  “Does that happen often?”

  “I don’t know. My stepdad complains about it sometimes. He works part-time at the gas station and has to deal with nasty people when they come in.”

  “Oh, okay,” he nodded, relieved.

  Surely the people coming in to eat his mom’s delicious food wouldn’t be the same people who held up gas stations. He’d mention it to his mother, just in case, but he wasn’t worried about it. Much. Ryan looked at his watch, just as the warning bell rang.

  “It was nice to meet you,” he said, getting up quickly to head to his locker.

  “Come decorate on Friday,” she called after him.

  “I’ll try.”

  ***

  “Hey my ultra-cool teenager, how was school?” Rossalyn asked, grinning at Ryan from atop a ladder.

  She’d just placed the triangular glass and wooden display case, which held the flag from Will’s empty casket, on a sheet metal-clad shelf behind the cash register. Ryan looked up at the flag, then at his mother and swallowed hard before responding.

  “Fine,” he shrugged, fiddling with the zipper on his backpack.

  “Did you meet any new friends?” Rossalyn started down the ladder.

  “Hey, wait. Stay up there for a second, I have an idea,” he avoided the question, finally opening his backpack. “I have something that might work on the shelf up there.”

  Ryan pulled out a wooden sign, painted to look like an American flag and held it up so that she could see it. In bold black lettering, it said: Be Brave, Be True, Get It Done. Touched profoundly, her hand went to her throat.

  “Oh honey… that’s perfect,” she said softly, eyes brimming.

  He handed the sign up to her, and it fit perfectly in the space on the rugged shelf, right next to his fa
ther’s flag.

  “Kinda makes it feel like he’s right here with us, doesn’t it?” she murmured, gazing at the sign.

  “Kinda always feels like that for me,” Ryan commented, his gaze on the floor.

  “Me too, kiddo,” Rossalyn came down the ladder and hugged him tight.

  Breaking away and reaching to shoulder his backpack again, Ryan changed the subject to something much less emotional. He hated seeing his mother cry.

  “I had lunch with a girl named Kelsey today,” he offered, knowing that the news of a potential friend would command his mother’s full attention.

  “Oh my, a girl, huh?” she had a wicked sparkle in her eye and he knew what was coming next. “Is she nice? Is she cute?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes.

  “It wasn’t like that, Mom. She was just curious because I was the new kid in town. She wants me to help decorate for the Halloween dance.”

  “Oooo… maybe she likes you,” Rossalyn teased.

  “Or maybe she just needs more people to decorate,” was the pragmatic reply.

  “Either way, it sounds like fun. Have you thought about your costume yet?”

  “I don’t even know if I’m doing anything for Halloween. I’m not really feeling it this year,” he shrugged.