Rochelle Alers

Second-Chance Sweet Shop


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curiosity about the attractive dentist. “Why did they break up?” She riced the potatoes, added milk, unsalted melted butter, garlic powder, fresh chives, and then whisked the mixture until it was smooth and fluffy.

      “I don’t know if there’s any truth to it, but folks were saying Adrienne didn’t want him to set up a practice in Wickham Falls and she gave him an ultimatum. In the end, she left, and he stayed.”

      “But didn’t she know when she married him that he didn’t want to leave The Falls?” Sasha asked. There were very few people in town Charlotte wasn’t familiar with. After thirty years as a cafeteria worker for Johnson County Public Schools, she had come to know every student from kindergarten through twelfth grade during her tenure.

      “I don’t know. The only thing I can say is the Wheelers spoiled Adrienne because she was the only girl in a family with four boys, and with her looks she knew she could have any boy she wanted. And once she set her sights on Dwight it was all she wrote. Would you mind if I open a bottle of that fancy wine you sent me?” Charlotte asked, changing the topic of conversation. “After all, we are celebrating your grand opening, and there are a few bottles chilling in the fridge.”

      “You’re right about that, Mama.” Once Grant went on an extended ten-city tour, Sasha had shipped her clothes, wine collection and personal possessions to Wickham Falls. She had become quite the wine connoisseur once she learned to pair those which complemented fish, red meat and poultry. “Red or champagne?”

      “Champagne.”

      Before moving to Tennessee, Sasha rarely had mother-daughter dates, but since returning, she had come to see another side of Charlotte’s personality. As a young wife and mother, Charlotte had sought to shield her children from her husband’s temper tantrums, while taking the brunt of his constant bitching and moaning about how much he hated his job as an orderly at the county hospital. Sasha expertly removed the cork from the bottle and filled two flutes with the pale bubbly wine. She touched her glass to Charlotte’s. “A toast to Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe.”

      Charlotte smiled. “Hear, hear!”

      Between sips of champagne, bites of succulent meat loaf and garlic-infused mashed potatoes, she felt completely relaxed for the first time since getting out of bed earlier that morning. And once she recalled the events of the day, Sasha knew her grand opening had been a rousing success.

      She peered over the flute at the updated kitchen. When she’d returned to Wickham Falls for her father’s funeral, it was as if she saw the kitchen and bathrooms in the house where she’d grown up for the first time. Had they always been that outdated, or was she comparing them to the ones in the ultramodern mansion she’d shared with her then-husband?

      Charlotte refused to accept money for the renovations, so Sasha contacted a local contractor and had him send her plans to redo the kitchen, full bath and the half bath off the mudroom. When the contracting crew showed up to begin work, her mother called and read her the riot act. Sasha hung up, waited a week and then called Charlotte back. She could not stop talking about how much she loved her new kitchen.

      The money for the renovations hadn’t come from what she’d earned as a pastry chef, but from an account Adele Harvey’s financial manager had established for her following the older woman’s death. No one was more shocked than Sasha when she had been summoned to the reading of Adele’s will and informed she’d been left enough money to take her into old age, if she didn’t squander it.

      After her second glass of champagne, Sasha was unable to smother a yawn. “As soon as I help you clean up the kitchen, I’m going upstairs to take a bath and then turn in for the night.”

      Charlotte touched the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “You don’t have to help me. I took a nap this afternoon, so I’m good.”

      Sasha stared across the table at her mother. She’d styled her hair in a becoming bob that showed her delicate features to their best advantage. Although she’d been widowed for seven years, Charlotte had never spoken about dating or the possibility of marrying again. However, it was different with Sasha. At thirty-two, she hoped she would find someone with whom she could fall in love, marry and have one or two children. Thankfully being married to Grant had not turned her off of marriage as a whole. If or when she did decide to date again, she was certain to be cognizant of the signs she’d chosen to ignore with Grant. She had been so blinded by love that she’d surrendered her will and had permitted her husband to control her very existence.

      He had insisted she travel with him whenever he was on tour, attend his recording sessions and of course all the televised award shows. She had smiled pretty for the camera even if they’d had an argument earlier that night. After a while Sasha had had enough and decided she wanted out.

      Here in The Falls, she did not have to concern herself about being dressed just so or going out without makeup to conceal her freckles. It had taken her living in a plastic world where she always had to be perfect for the camera for her to appreciate the laid-back comfortability of a small town in the heart of West Virginia’s coal country.

      “Are you sure you’re up to it, Mama?”

      Charlotte smiled. “Of course I’m sure. I don’t need you working yourself down to the bone where you won’t have enough strength to bake or even run a business. You’ve just begun putting on weight and I don’t want folks saying that my baby girl looks like a scarecrow.”

      Sasha rolled her eyes upward. “Thanks, Mama.” Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “I think I’m going to take a shower, because once I get into the tub, I won’t be able to get out.”

      “Do you want me to come up and check on you?”

      “Nah. I’m good.” Rounding the table, she leaned down and kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

      “I’m going to put some away for tomorrow’s lunch.”

      Turning on her heel, Sasha walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room and up the staircase to the second story. Charlotte had become a lifesaver and her lifeline. She had become her unofficial sous chef; she brought her lunch so she wouldn’t have to leave the shop for a meal; and she’d been there for her to greet town officials and the walk-ins.

      Sasha didn’t know what she would’ve done if she hadn’t had her mother. She entered her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and walked naked into the bathroom across the hall. She managed to brush her teeth and shower in under fifteen minutes. Within seconds of her head touching the pillow, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

       Chapter Three

      Sasha woke early and was in the shop before five. She’d put up enough dough for marble rye, multigrain and several loaves of pain de campagne—a French country-style bread with a sourdough starter. She had also sent an email to the local church’s outreach director that she had planned to donate any leftover baked goods for their soup-kitchen lunch program. There were several families in towns that had fallen on hard times and had to depend on the generosity of others to keep from going hungry.

      Charlotte arrived twenty minutes before seven and checked the contents of the refrigerator showcase. She walked to the entrance of the kitchen. “Is the day’s special ready for me to put in the showcase?”

      Sasha’s head popped up. “They’re cooling now.” She knew the red velvet cheesecake brownies would become a customer favorite because of the popularity of red velvet cake and brownies. And she hoped pairing them with cheesecake would take anyone that ate it by complete surprise.

      She glanced up at the wall clock and realized she had less than forty minutes to make a dozen blueberry and oatmeal raisin muffins. It took muffins about fifteen to twenty minutes to bake and about five to cool. Sasha wanted to wait until she was certain she would have steady customers before she advertised for an assistant to help her in the kitchen. Creating specialty cakes required only one person, but it was not the