Travis's Gift (Riley's Pride #3)- Sandra R Neeley Page 0,4
Bears are one of the species that can choose their mates,” Constance continued.
Libby smiled to herself. “I believe you’re right.”
“Then….” Constance said, trying to lead Libby to the same conclusion she had.
Libby scooped the last of her final batch of donuts out of the oil and placed them on paper towels to dry. She looked over at Constance and smirked at her. “Playing matchmaker?” she asked.
Constance shrugged innocently. “Seems that two lonely people, who enjoy each other’s company, don’t have to be lonely.”
“In most cases, you’re right. But, in this case, it’s better to not let him get too attached,” Libby said.
“Because of Travis?” Constance asked.
“Is there anything you don’t know about?” Libby asked, chuckling.
“Very little. So, where does that stand? The thing with Travis I mean?” Constance asked, smiling wide.
Libby shook her head, and smiled. “I’m not sure. But at least he doesn’t run from any building I happen to be in any longer. And he doesn’t snarl at me, then pretend I don’t exist. So, there’s that.”
“Is that what you want, Libby? Travis?” Constance asked.
Libby thought about the question, before shaking her head. “I don’t know anymore. I just want to be happy. I’d like to not feel like my heart jumps into my throat every time I see Travis. I want to be free from it all, I think. And it’s not fair to lead Lucas on when I’m not even sure what I want.”
“Travis may want what you do, or so may Lucas,” Constance said.
“Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much I even have to offer to anyone anymore. That part of me shut down a long time ago. I’m not even sure it exists. Lucas needs someone that’s able to give him her everything… that’s just not me.”
“I understand that more than you know,” Constance said, putting mounds of bacon onto the rack above the pans to let them cool and drip the rest of the bacon grease into the bottom of the pan.
Libby moved to a different station on the work surface behind her and began to glaze, frost and decorate the donuts. The timer went off for the biscuits and Constance reached out to turn it off. “I got it,” she said, taking pot holders in hand and removing three huge pans of biscuits from the oven and setting them to cool. She reached for a pot of melted butter and dipped a silicone brush into it before brushing the melted butter liberally over each pan of biscuits.
“I’m going to fry some of the sausage in the cast iron skillet so I can use the drippings to make country gravy when I’m done. Other than that, I think we have most of the items we prep in advance finished.”
“Sounds good,” Libby said, busily decorating the chocolate frosted donuts with red, green and white sprinkles.
“Very pretty,” Constance said, looking over at the Christmas themed decorations Libby had put on the chocolate donuts.
“Thanks. Not sure I’m ready for all this Christmas, but it is what it is,” Libby said.
“Hmm,” Constance responded, deciding that a change of subject would be best about now. “Are we still doing the meatloaf and mashed potatoes for the lunch special?” Constance asked.
“Yes,” Libby said. “I didn’t see any changes on the board, so unless Richie said something to you, it’s still meatloaf.”
“I can’t wait for lunch, it’s one of my favorites,” Constance said.
Libby nodded. “It’s one of Travis’s favorites, too. I’m sure he’ll be in today for it,” she said, not even noticing she’d brought up Travis and one of his favorite foods.
Constance glanced over at Libby and smiled to herself. Libby may not be consciously aware of what she wanted, but Constance had no doubt that Libby’s subconscious certainly knew. “Take heart, Libby. Christmas time is a time of miracles. Anything could happen before the New Year is upon us,” Constance said happily.
Libby nodded noncommittally. “I stopped believing that a long time ago. But I keep it to myself because I know how much Maia loves the holidays, and the kids get so excited. It’s okay, though, I get through it just fine.”
A knock sounded on the glass front door and Libby looked up. “There’s Lowell. I’ll let him in,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron and walking toward the door.
“Morning,” she said, as she turned the lock and stepped back to allow him to enter.
“Morning, Libby,” Lowell answered.
“We have some fresh, hot coffee if you want it,” Libby offered, locking the door back behind him.