He laughed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zoe barked orders from the inn’s kitchen as if she were on set. She couldn’t help herself; the kitchen had an energizing effect on her that few understood. “The smaller the cut, the more flavor throughout the salad, Mel.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Zoe tossed a tomato at her friends before wiping her hands on a towel.
“There’s enough food here for an army.”
“We do it big in Texas.”
From outside, the smell of ribs on the barbeque drifted through the inn.
“Is Zane coming?”
Zoe shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. Mom says he has a job up in Waterville. I’m afraid to ask what kind of job.”
The youngest of the Brown children had never moved out of his mother’s house. Then again, her sister was back with her mom after a failed relationship that took her to Eugene and back.
“Is he still on parole?”
“Mom said no, but I’m not sure.”
Between his temper and his drinking, Zane had landed in jail more times than a kid at twenty-one should. “Is it too much to want him to grow up?”
Mel offered a smile from across the kitchen. “You can’t force people to do the right thing, Zoe.”
“It’s frustrating. I can’t help but wonder if I was around more if things would be different.”
Melanie slid closer and placed the knife on the counter. “You can’t live your life for your family. The three of you all had the same deck of cards handed out to you. You found your path and ran with it . . . they will find theirs.”
“And if it’s the wrong path?”
“What if it is? What can you do, Zoe? You give Zane money and you enable him to keep doing stupid shit. You preach, he tunes you out. He knows right from wrong.”
Mel was right . . . it just sucked to see someone she loved falling down the wrong rabbit hole. “Since when did you become so wise?”
“A few years at the school of hard knocks.”
Zanya, Zoe’s sister, walked into the kitchen holding a six-month pregnant belly. “Mel, please tell me you have Tums somewhere in this place.”
“Tums? You haven’t even eaten yet!” Zoe exclaimed.
“Oh, baby . . . come with me,” Mel said as she pulled Zanya into a half hug and walked her from the kitchen. “I bet he comes out with a full head of hair.”
Zoe watched as her BFF left the kitchen with her sister and future nephew. At least Zanya could rely on Zoe’s friends. There was some comfort in that.
Voices from the back door brought an even bigger smile to her face.
“Mrs. Miller.” Seeing Luke’s mom always made Zoe’s insides turn to mush. The woman was everything a happy stay-at-home mom should be. She loved to bake, loved to can fresh preserves in the summer . . . and craft a few silly things for the rummage sale hosted by the Little White Church in spring and again at Christmas.
“I hope you have room in that fridge, Zoe.”
She stood double fisted with pie, Mr. Miller followed with two more.
“Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“You said pie. I bring pie. Apple, strawberry rhubarb, chocolate, and banana cream.”
There was nothing better than Mrs. Miller’s banana cream. “I love you.”
“I know, baby. Now make room in that massive tin box. It’s too hot for these to sit out.”
Mr. Miller left the apple pie on the counter and waited until Mrs. Miller took the remaining pie from his hands before turning to Zoe. After a kiss to the cheek, he left the kitchen as quickly as he entered.
Zoe looked beyond Mr. Miller.
“He’s on his way.”
“What . . . who?”
Mrs. Miller pinched her lips and tilted her head. “You might have gotten older, but you haven’t changed.”
The fact that Mrs. Miller called her out about searching for her son, without truly calling her out, was a testament to their relationship. The woman never sat in judgment nor did she question Zoe’s decision to leave River Bend to find herself.
Instead of saying anything, Zoe returned to the finishing touches of the tiny feast she was preparing as her own going-away party. She was leaving in the morning, bringing to a close her brief hiatus from her daily life.
“What can I do?” Mrs. Miller asked.
“How about tossing the salad?”
Luke’s mom moved to the sink and washed her hands as the sound of a motorcycle drowned out the voices from the back of the house.
Luke was there.
She knew that, and her heart sped up, which gave her equal parts of happiness and sorrow.
It was breaking again.
Like it did every time she saw the man and knew she was leaving.
She was trying so hard to be his friend . . . only his friend.
Her dreams, however, weren’t allowing her to remain platonic. Memories and reality were mixing every damn night, making it impossible to sleep.
“Hey, Zoe?” Wyatt called from outside.
“Coming.”
Wyatt manned the barbeque with a strict set of instructions, though he tried hard to convince her he knew his way around the grill. He’d have to prove himself before she let loose the reins of her meal.
The sun decided to cooperate on her last day in River Bend, giving them all a chance to play and enjoy the outside.
Miss Gina had an old badminton set that Jo and Mel had set up earlier in the day. Miss Gina was lofting a birdy over the net to Hope, while Zoe’s mom watched from the shade of the porch.
“Can I help with something?” her mom asked.
“I got it.”