“I’m real sorry it’s worked out like this. You’ve been a good help to me, and I’d like to see you take over here if you can swing it. Let me know as soon as you can, Rach. I’ve been talking to Margaret down at the realty office, and she thinks we’d get a real good price listing the place online. Rockford Falls is real quaint and charming. Some rich city slicker would be bound to snap the diner up, and he might even keep you on to manage it.”
Was that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe spend another twenty years in a dead-end job working for some other cheapskate? No way. Either I was buying this place any way possible, or I was quitting. I was sure as hell not going to stay here, tail between my legs, and be a waitress forever. Failure wasn’t an option. I had to come up with the money.
I just nodded and picked up some menus to take to a table of people who’d just come in. As soon as I went to pour their coffee, Max came in, talking intently on his cell phone and leaning on the counter beside the register. I went to wait on him, but he was still on the phone. He was speaking low and I didn’t catch much of it, but he was obviously distressed about something. He didn’t sound mad, just upset. So when he got off the phone, I decided to be nosy.
“You okay?” I asked. “That didn’t seem like good news.”
“My sitter just called to say she’s moving back home to take care of her mom, who happens to live in West Virginia. So, I have no childcare going into summer break from school. Normally I’d just take off and spend time with Sadie, but summer’s my busiest season. It’s—stressful.”
“I hope you find somebody to help out,” I said. “What can I get you?”
“Just coffee to go, thanks.”
He looked distracted, barely said a word when I gave him his coffee, although he left five bucks in the tip jar, which was real nice of him. Now that man wasn’t a cheapskate. He’d always been a good tipper.
My mind ran back over my finances. I didn’t have a rich friend or relative who could go in as a silent partner until I could repay them. I didn’t have anything valuable to sell, and if my parents had any money, I wouldn’t have had to wait tables as soon as I was old enough just to help out with the bills. I’d moved out at eighteen, started working full time and gotten my own place. I’d never lived beyond my means or run up debt or anything, but I didn’t have much credit history either. I’d bought a used Nissan when I was twenty-one and I was still driving it. I didn’t have a credit card, and I didn’t own a house. So banks weren’t exactly beating down my collateral-less door to lend me a large sum to buy a business.
I’d look up small business loans again, see if there was any kind of grant program or anything for single women in a rural area. It was a long shot, but right now the whole scheme to buy the diner looked like a long shot.
6 Max
“I can reach if I just use my stool. I don’t need a chair,” Sadie said. I looked at her, watched her drag her stool in from the bathroom sink and set it by the cabinet. She could reach the counter without standing on a kitchen chair. When had she gotten so big? I shook my head with a grin.
“You sure can,” I said. “Look at you.”
Sadie took the butter knife and cut up the mushrooms I’d set out for her. She liked to help cook dinner when we had time, and I liked to watch the serious way she tried to do it just right. She sawed at the mushroom, pushed too hard and smashed it. Then she shrugged, whacked at it with the knife and put the two giant chunks in a bowl.
“Let’s cut them a little smaller,” I said lightly, taking that one and showing her again how to use the knife—which wasn’t sharp—to cut a slice more easily.
“When am I big enough to chop wood?” she asked.
“What?”
“I wanna cut down a tree like you do.”
“Let’s master the butter knife before we start you on an ax, baby girl,” I said.
“You’ll show me how though?”
“Yes, I’ll show you how when you’re bigger,” I agreed.
I cringed inwardly. Just the thought of my sweet girl getting hurt, dropping the heavy ax or her grip slipping at the wrong moment—it made me sick. Again, I wondered for the thousandth time, how could I protect her from everything that can go wrong? Not just in logging, but in her whole life? The need to keep her safe was so strong. I wouldn’t make her fearful or too cautious. I wanted her to be brave and confident and happy—I just wanted to keep her in a safe bubble at the same time.
So, I covered her small hand with mine and took her through the motions of cutting up another mushroom together. She looked up and grinned at me, her face so sweet and open, “I got it, Daddy!” she said. The bright feeling of pride flooded me, and I gave her a hug. “You sure do, baby girl,” I told her.
When I put the vegetables into the sauce and put it on to simmer, we danced in the kitchen. I took her hand and twirled her a few times. She kept spinning around and giggled and got dizzy. I picked her up in my arms and danced her around some more.
“I’m a big girl,” she said seriously. “You don’t have to carry me.”
“I know. But I like to carry you around,” I said.
I gave her
