later this week.
Picturing those black fingernails putting out the lace doilies she’d bought at the flea market last week made Tara cringe.
No, Sylvie wasn’t a good match for this place. She was too rough. Too edgy. This place had no edge. It was about comfort food and relaxation.
Turning to her work, Tara forced herself to slow down and not slap the paintbrush against the wall. Old blue? Really? She reached for the long-handled roller and started on the next wall, all thoughts of taking a break gone.
As she worked, her brain kept time with the rhythm of the roller. Was she doing the right thing? Up. She’d worked too hard to have doubts now. Down. What if everyone thought like Sylvie? Up. Not everyone had blue hair. Down.
The light shifted and the streak of blue in her own blond hair caught her eye again. Present company excepted. “I am not like her,” she said aloud.
“Not like who?”
Startling her worse than Sylvie had, DJ came into the room. Tara dropped the paint roller, which landed with a sloppy plop on the wood floor, flinging more paint in the air—most likely adding to her hair.
“Good thing you’re refinishing that,” he said, unruffled as usual. He carefully made his way across the room. His back must be bothering him today since he moved slowly. Though he was healed, DJ would never be a hundred percent like he was before he’d been wounded in Afghanistan.
“Why are you here?” She bent to pick up the roller and wiped up as much of the paint as she could.
“Grumpy today?” He lifted a white bag with a familiar logo on it. Her favorite burger joint. “Is that any way to greet the person saving you from starvation?”
“I’m fine.” Her stomach rumbled just to make a liar out of her.
“Uh-huh.”
He carried the bag over to the diner’s long counter. She’d covered it with an old sheet while she worked, and he pushed it away, exposing the beautiful hand-carved surface.
Seeing it went a long way toward reassuring her that buying this place was a good idea. She’d fallen in love with the counter the first time she’d seen it, and it still amazed her it was now hers.
The scent of her favorite burger made her mouth water. “What’s this?” She climbed up on one of the low vinyl stools that were anchored on chrome pedestals to the floor. “Bribery?”
“A peace offering.” He had the grace to look chagrined. “We weren’t very supportive the other day.”
“You think?” She stared at him.
“Here.” He fished a burger out of the bag and put it on the counter. On the tail of that delicious aroma, the container of fries emitted a wonderful smell of grease and heat.
Tara bit into the luscious burger, savoring the warm juices that exploded in her mouth. She loved to cook, but years ago, she’d learned the value of letting someone else cook sometimes. This was one of those times. She did have a danged good burger on the menu, but this one she didn’t have to make herself.
And it tasted like heaven.
“If you love these burgers so much,” DJ said around a mouthful, “why don’t you make them yourself? Heck, I like yours better.”
“I could. But where’s the fun in that?”
“It’s looking good in here.” DJ nodded to the mostly blue walls.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Hey!” Another voice interrupted them. They both turned to find Addie standing there, a box in her arms, on top of which was an identical white bag emblazoned with the same logo.
“Beat you to it, sis.” DJ grinned, barely taking a break from his meal.
Addie came over and settled beside Tara. “Here I thought I had a good idea.”
“It is a good idea.” Tara reached for the new bag. “At least you all know my favorite junk food.” She grinned at Addie. “And she...” Tara nodded toward her sister with a pointed glance at DJ. “She remembered I like chocolate shakes with my fries.” She pulled out the tall cup and shoved the straw through the lid. “Yum!”
“I brought this, too.” Addie’s voice was nearly a whisper. The box from the night at Mom’s. The recipes. “Thought you might need it.”
“Thanks.” Tara ducked her head, concentrating on her food instead of the warm emotion flowing inside her.
They ate until the door opened again. Wyatt came in and froze halfway across the room. His frown made them all laugh.
“Hey, big brother,” Tara greeted him. “Come join us.” Looking at the size of the white bag in his hands, she said, “Hope you’re hungry, since there’s going to be a lot left. Is Emily with you?” She didn’t see his wife anywhere.
“No,” he growled as he settled next to Addie. “DJ, the leftovers are yours.” He shoved the bag down the counter.
“Was I just insulted?” DJ nabbed a spare pack of fries from the new bag with a wide grin. “Thanks for the fries.”
“Anytime.”
DJ shrugged. “What we don’t want, I can take home to Pork Chop and Hamlet.” His son’s pet pigs were going to feast tonight.
Tara smiled, enjoying the food and the company. “We’ve got enough for Mandy and Jason, too. Too bad they aren’t here.”
“Yeah.” Addie sat back, her eyes distant as she enjoyed her own shake. Strawberry—Tara knew without even looking—Addie’s favorite since they were kids. “I miss us all being together.” There was sadness in her voice.
“They aren’t missing us.” DJ laughed and they all joined in. Jason was in Europe on his belated honeymoon with his new bride, who was touring with a ballet company. And Mandy was with her fiancé, Lane, fighting a wildfire in Canada. Tara whispered a simple prayer that they all came home safe and sound.
“Are you going to be ready to open in time?” Addie started to gather the trash, always busy taking care of everyone.
“Relax, Ad.” Tara reached out to grasp her sister’s arm. “Just toss everything the pigs aren’t getting in that barrel.” The trash can was filled with a variety of boards, paintbrushes, plastic and everything she’d swept up. “Not like there’s anything to really clean yet.”
“You don’t need any more work,” Addie admonished. “Gentlemen, clean up after yourselves.”
The look that passed between DJ and Wyatt made Tara laugh. They looked more like the kids they used to be than the men they were. It was nice.
Tara loved these people. Her family. Her siblings. She was proud of them, proud to be one of them.
Wyatt owned and operated one of Texas’s most successful cattle ranches. DJ helped him, though her brother was still a soldier at heart despite his injuries. Addie was a teacher who focused on tough kids. Her other siblings, who weren’t here—though they would be if they were in the state—were just as successful.
She was determined to be successful, too.
She looked around at the half-done diner she was trying to turn into a popular, busy restaurant. Their comments and reactions from the other night returned and sparked her feeling of inadequacy again.
What if their concerns were proven right and she failed? What if no one came here to eat? What if that Sylvie woman was right and it was an ugly mistake? The delicious burger turned to dust in her mouth.
Tara felt an arm slip around her. “Do what you always do,” Addie said softly.
“What’s that?”
“Ignore us completely.”