When the door chimed from the last morning customer I knew I had a gap, the after lunch crowd still a ways off and I intended to deal with momma. I needed to talk to her before my sisters heard it. Their opinions on the subject weren’t required¸ though they would require their airing, to any and all that would listen. They were nosy let me tell you.
I straightened my apron, adjusted my hair and made sure my hands were clean. I was preparing to approach my mother and didn’t want my appearance distracting. She liked me to look a certain way for the customers and for myself. Sometimes I forgot to straighten my apron or wash flour from my hands. That annoyed the woman. Before I went back I took a peek at the mirror set into the wall behind me. Deciding I was good I headed to the kitchen where I could smell the banana nut bread baking as she worked on an order. That was a treat she’d make for us every once and awhile. Especially if the bananas over ripened. Momma didn’t believe in throwing away food. She’d find a use every time.
The door swung open then closed. Momma turned her head and glanced at me over her floured shoulder. “Sprinkle those doughnuts with powdered sugar. Go turn on the doughnuts sign.”
Great. Not good timing. “I was going to ask you something.”
“Doughnuts don’t stay hot forever. Get them sold,” she replied.
I didn’t want to anger her so I did as I was told and went back out to the front. I put them on display, turned on the sign, and sure enough within ten minutes five customers came right in. We were down to a dozen when Mayor Harley bought them “for the office.” From the looks of the man I imagined he was hiding in his car with a glass of milk shoving them down his throat. Doughnuts weren’t something momma did often. They brought in people fast, selling out within the hour. The specialty sign we’d put in the glass made the doughnuts vanish quickly. “Okay, let’s try this again.” I turned off the sign after Mr. Harley left and once again prepared myself.
She was stirring her large mixing bowl, but there was nothing coming out of the oven. Again, she glanced at me. “Special order?” she asked.
“No ma’am. It’s quiet after the doughnuts. Mr. Harley just bought the last dozen.”
Momma made a tsk-tsk sound. Shook her head and frowned. “Hope he doesn’t eat them all. The man’s gonna keel over and die if he keeps on eating like he does.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“What is it you’re needing of me?” Momma wasn’t one to waste time. She didn’t believe in procrastination and idling was when the devil worked.
“The wealthy man that comes in here…”
“The one that showed up at the dance? Has he been back today?”
I nodded. “Yes ma’am, he has, and I really like him. He’s successful and…”
“…he’s rich and saw your face and just can’t stay away. Thinks he can buy anything he wants and that now includes you.”
This was not going well. “No, it’s not like that. He’s generous and thoughtful and he makes me laugh and he asks questions about me. He rarely talks about himself.”
Momma continued to stir, while her frown did not lift. “He’s asked you out on a date?”
I nodded. “Yes. And I want to go. It’s tonight at seven and I gave him directions to our house so you can meet him. He likes me momma and he’s…not from here in Moulton.”
She sighed and sat the bowl down. “Him not being from Moulton is what’s most important to you. You can’t pick a man because of his address. Love happens or it don’t. Men with that kind of money love their way of life, love buying what they want, not necessarily what they need. That having been said I knew one day you’d catch the eye of a rich man. If I say no you’ll go anyway, even walk right out the door. So let him come. I’ll talk to the man. Just remember Sammy Jo, not all fairy tales are real, true or wise. Firstly, they are tales. There’s more to a man than his money and what he can gift you with his wallet. It’s his heart that matters most.”
Momma rarely said this many words. She wasn’t one to waste time. Even if I didn’t agree, I listened because she was my mother. She’d been hurt by a man and it showed. Sure he had left her Henry, and the boy was worth it all, but momma didn’t trust men. Not since daddy died. She felt betrayed in his death and the absence of another and that can’t leave you any strength, except to trudge through the day.
“Yes ma’am. Thank you,” I replied. I really wanted to do a little dance, but that could wait until I was alone to save the humiliation.
“Go on now before Deloris shows up. She’ll want the rest of the raspberry tarts for her dessert tonight.”
I didn’t argue. I was shocked that this had been easy. If momma didn’t have the highest hopes for my future with Hale in the long run, at least I would have the experience. Dating wasn’t something I did much of because I didn’t have a pool to choose from. They were all here for life. This was my first chance at something outside of Moulton, Alabama. Even if the night was a failure at least I had that chance.
When I got back to the front Deloris was walking inside. It was just like momma had predicted. I boxed up her raspberry tarts with a silly grin on my face. I couldn’t help it, I was silly and excited, my life shifting towards the positive.
The next five customers kept me busy and moving. They were buying their after dinner treats and asking questions about momma’s baking, what we would have tomorrow. Almost two hours passed before I got a chance to sit on my stool and think. What will I wear? How to fix my hair? Where would we go on the date? All of that had my head spinning, until four rolled around and we closed the doors and headed home for the evening. Momma didn’t say one word about Hale on our drive or when we arrived. She was quiet. Uncomfortably so.
Chapter Fifteen
For a girl with a very limited wardrobe I managed to change clothes five times. Keeping tonight a secret from my sisters was impossible. Especially since I borrowed Milly’s black skirt. Milly wasn’t there and when she got home I was going to be in trouble, but I was willing to face the wrath of my sister to look nice tonight.
Bessy was the first to notice my skirt when I walked into the kitchen.
“Pretty,” Henry said, beaming up at me. At least I was appreciated by the only male in the family.
“Milly’s gonna kill you,” Bessy sang in a sing song voice.