“She got a little cut on her finger,” Mallory said. “She wasn’t crying until she saw the blood. Then she started to wail.”
“Let me see it, Ami,” Alissa said.
Ami held out her small hand. Both the blood and the cut were barely visible.
“Would you like a Band-Aid?” Alissa opened the cupboard and pulled out an unopened box. “I don’t think the girls saw Band-Aids like this at the orphanage. I’ve gone through a whole box during the past two weeks. They wear them like badges of honor or something.”
Alissa wrapped the bright orange strip around Ami’s index finger, and a smile came to Ami’s tear-streaked face.
“Is your owie all better, Ami?” Mallory took her young charge back into her arms. “Owie, Ami? Is it gone now?”
“Owie-Ami,” the little girl answered.
They all laughed.
“Yes,” Alissa said, “you are my Owie-Ami. You get at least a bump or bruise a day, don’t you?”
“You’re not Owie-Ami,” Mallory said. “Your name is Ami. What’s my name? Do you remember? What’s my name? Can you say, ‘Ma-lo-ree’?”
“Ree,” Ami said proudly. “Ree.”
Mallory laughed. “Okay, you can call me Ree for now.
Do you want to go back outside to swing?”
“Sing,” Ami repeated. “Sing.”
“Not sing. Swing. Come on, let’s go swing.”
“Sing,” Ami said.
The two of them exited the kitchen, and Alissa reached for an oven mitt to check on the chicken. “Mallory’s last day of school is tomorrow, right?”
“Yes.”
“I wonder if I could hire her this summer to come over a few times a week to play with the girls and to work on their English? Ami seems to copy everything Mallory says. She doesn’t do that with Brad and me.”
Genevieve looked out the kitchen window and watched both her daughters playing with Alissa’s little girls. “I don’t think you’ll have to pay either of my girls to come over here any time you want them. They both seem to enjoy having a new little sister to be with.”
“I’ll work something out with them.” Alissa motioned toward the lemonade pitcher. “Would you mind carrying that outside along with those plastic glasses? We’re just about ready to eat.”
Genevieve helped Alissa set up their summer supper on the patio. The group joined hands as they stood in a circle, and Brad prayed for them. Genevieve felt herself tearing up. This was the closeness she had hoped to experience when she had moved to Glenbrooke. But instead she had closed off herself and kept too busy to be included in quiet circles like this.
The evening sky paled to a soft shade of blue as they dined together. The four girls took their plates to the child-sized picnic table beneath the fragrant evergreen trees’ thick boughs. Anna’s legs were too long to fit beneath the table so she pulled a wooden Adirondack chair over and presided over the girls like a garden queen.
Alissa, Brad, and Genevieve got comfortable in the padded chairs on the patio. As soon as Genevieve took a bite of Alissa’s chicken, she knew she had to have the recipe.
“It’s so easy,” Alissa said. “It’s definitely not low-calorie, but it’s quick, and the girls loved it when I made it last week. Remind me, and I’ll write down the recipe for you before you go home.”
“You could add it to the menu at the new Wildflower Café,” Brad said. “You could list it as Alissa’s Ritzy Chicken.”
“You know,” Genevieve said, “that’s a good idea. It would be fun to add some more favorites from Glenbrooke residents. Good suggestion, Brad.”
Brad and Alissa exchanged glances, and Brad said, “We have another suggestion for you.”
“What’s that?”
Brad looked at Alissa again and then said, “Would you be interested in buying our side of the building at a very reasonable price?”
Genevieve swallowed the bite of chicken in her mouth and waited for Brad to elaborate.
“We found a warehouse,” Alissa said. “Have you seen the new construction on Highway 14 on the way to Edgefield?”
Genevieve nodded.
“I know the builder,” Brad said. “He’s putting up a string of warehouses that are also zoned for office space. I have an opportunity to expand my business, but I need more room than I had on Main Street. The warehouse would allow me to accept larger shipments of computers, plus the builder is offering me a great deal on a two-year lease.”
“I see,” Genevieve said slowly.
“We wanted to offer the space to you first,” Alissa said. “In case you wanted to knock out the wall and expand the café.”
Genevieve nodded. Inside, her imagination had begun racing like a child at an Easter egg hunt. She ran from one clump of thoughts to another, gathering ideas with glee and stuffing them all in her imagination basket. On the outside, she was trying to stay calm. It didn’t seem likely that she could come up with the money, even though Collin Radcliff had pulled off the surprise of the historical site funding.
“I plan to continue my travel agency here at home,” Alissa said. “I want to be here with the girls, and it’s really part-time work now, anyhow.”
“Ever since Lauren put in the antique store at the end of Main Street, they say more tourists have been coming to Glenbrooke,” Brad said. “That could be good business for the café once it’s rebuilt.”
“And you did know that a bed and breakfast is going in a few blocks from the antique store, didn’t you?” Alissa asked. “I was so surprised when Shelly told me at the May Day event, but she said that Jake and Meredith are buying the old Wilson house as an investment, and Meredith and Shelly’s parents are moving here. They’re going to run the B and B.”
“Are you sure?” Genevieve asked. “The last I heard, Shelly and Meredith’s father was having some kind of surgery.”
“It was on his foot or knee,” Alissa said. “Nothing major. He’s retiring. I guess they’re really excited about it. They want to call it The Hidden House Bed and Breakfast.”
“I would guess that a bed and breakfast in Glenbrooke would do a real good business,” Genevieve said.
Alissa nodded. “You don’t have to let us know right away about buying our side of the building. I’m sure you’ll want to talk about it with Steven. We’re not in any hurry. We just wanted to present you with the option before you got very far with the rebuilding in case it would change things dramatically for you.”
“It’s like I told you at the grocery store today, the builders haven’t been able to do anything yet,” Genevieve said. “We’ve had all kinds of slowdowns and problems obtaining permits and everything else. I thought we’d be halfway through by now, but it’s going to be quite a while.”
“I’m sure it will go quickly once they can start,” Alissa said.
“I love the idea of expanding,” Genevieve said. “I’m sure you both knew that I would like the idea. But you’re right about the practicality of how it would all work out. I just don’t know about the finances up-front.”
The three of them discussed how much Brad and Alissa had in mind for their side of the building and how the payments might be arranged. Genevieve knew they were offering it to her for lower than the actual value. True, no repairs had been made since the fire, but their side hadn’t been as severely damaged. Brad’s insurance policy had covered the loss of his equipment, and Brad had been working in the front part of the shop without opening it to the public.
“Take some time to think about it and pray about it,” Brad said. “I’m sure Steven will have some ideas. Let us know when you decide.”
For the rest of the week, Genevieve thought of little else than what she would do if the additional space could be hers. She gathered all the information logically and systematically, as if she were responsible for presenting a full report to Steven when he returned.
Genevieve let her imagination run wild, as she planned what she would do with the extra space. When the builder hit another sn
ag after the electrician ran into delays while rewiring the kitchen, he told Genevieve it might be the end of June before he could start to rebuild the inside structure of the kitchen. She told him that was fine. She resisted the urge to tell him she might double his task. Biding her time and collecting all her information, she waited until Steven came home.
Genevieve baked a cherry cobbler for him and had a fresh pot of his coffee blend ready. The girls were over at Brad and Alissa’s when Steven pulled his sports car into the garage. He had been driving with the top down and had a fresh outdoor glow on his face. Genevieve met him with a hug, a kiss, and a smile.
“What?” Steven looked around. “What’s going on?”
“I have something to talk to you about.” Genevieve pointed to the kitchen table, spread with papers. “Are you interested in talking now?”
“That depends,” Steven said cautiously. “What is it you want to talk about?”
“The café.”
“Oh.” Steven put his car keys on the counter. He glanced at some of the papers. “You’ve been making more plans, I see.”
Without sitting down or offering any of the cobbler, Genevieve dove right in and told him about the offer from Brad and Alissa. Steven’s expression didn’t change as she gave him a quick overview of what it would cost and how they might pull it all together.
“You’re pretty excited about this,” Steven observed.
Genevieve nodded.
He picked up one of the rough sketches of the floor plan from off the table. “What about booths? Do you think you might put in some booths by the windows? I always liked those booths, you know. It’s relaxing to sit in a booth.”
“We could consider some booths.”
“What does Leah think?”
“Leah?”
“Yes, have you gone over this with Leah?”
“No.”
“I thought you would discuss this with her. Don’t you consider her your business partner?”
“Not really. She’s a coworker. My associate. I’m sure she’ll want to hear all the details, but I didn’t want to tell anyone what I had in mind until I spoke with you first.”
“You did?” Steven looked surprised.
“Of course. You’re my partner, Steven. My business partner and financial partner.”
“And?” Steven looked intently at Genevieve.
“You’re my husband,” she said.
Steven seemed to study her expression in an effort to discern the extent of her sincerity. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“Mean what? That you’re my husband?”
“No, that you didn’t go ahead with any of these plans or enlist the support of anyone else. You waited until you could talk to me.”
“Yes.”
“That means the world to me, Gena. I can’t tell you. Thank you.”
She didn’t understand why that was such an issue for him or why he was taking it so seriously. “You’re welcome. And by the way, I made some coffee. Cobbler, too. Are you hungry?”
The two of them sat at the kitchen table with coffee and cherry cobbler. Steven studied the papers more thoroughly and listened to Genevieve dream aloud about the café.
“What about …” Steven began.
“What?”
“This is extreme,” he said. “But what about a tree house in the corner?”
“A tree house?”
Steven made a rough sketch on the floor plan. “You said you wanted to have a separate section for private meetings and you wanted to do something that would draw in more families. You could put it here, in this corner like this. See? The steps could be on the backside so you don’t see them from the front. All you would need is three or four wide steps and then a flat area large enough for, say, two kid-sized tables. The sides of the tree would have netting to keep the kids from trying to jump out.”
Genevieve looked at Steven.
“I don’t mean a playland sort of plastic tree,” he said. “Kids wouldn’t play in the tree like at a fast-food restaurant. They would actually sit at their own tables and eat there. I’m thinking of a tree that looks almost real. Something artistic. Anna could explain this better than I am. The branches could keep going and lie flat against this wall.” He drew a few more lines and put down the pencil. “Something like that.”
Genevieve could see it. She remembered how the girls had eaten at a little picnic table under the trees at Brad and Alissa’s last week. A tree house dining area for children inside the Wildflower Café would be a hit. She could see how little Beth and Ami’s eyes would grow wide at such a spectacle.
“Jonathan at Camp Heather Brook is the tree house expert,” she said. “I could ask him how to do it. He might even be willing to help design it.”
Steven grinned. “There you go. And then you could put a small picnic table underneath the tree branches here for, I don’t know … overflow when you have too many tykes dining with you.”
“If we keep all of the tree and picnic table design over here in the expanded section, then we’re not taking away from the cozy conversation groupings I was trying to create here.”
“What about an espresso cart?” Steven asked.
“A what?”
“They have them at all the airports. A small station that serves just coffee and pastries. You would need more employees, but you could do a walk-up window here in front of what used to be the computer store. Or, you know, you could even have two restaurants separated by the current wall. You could keep the Wildflower Café pretty much as it was before and then this other side could be an ice cream shop that serves coffee as well.”
Now Genevieve’s mind was swimming with possibilities. She didn’t want Steven to stop the flow of his creative ideas, but her imagination could only take so much. She held up her hand. “Wait! One stroke of brilliance at a time.”
Steven grinned at her. He looked young. She felt old. For the first time in many months, maybe in a few years, Genevieve wanted to feel in love with her husband again.
Chapter Eleven
After a long afternoon and evening going over all the possible plans for the Wildflower Café, Genevieve was sure about only one thing. Steven supported her. In every way he was willing to do what needed to be done to make this expanded venture work. He seemed to understand even more than Genevieve that she needed to make the café a success.
Before they went to bed that night, Steven told Anna and Mallory that he would take them to church on Sunday. The girls took the news without questioning their dad. Genevieve was mystified.
Why, after all these years, does Steven want to go to church? It was actually easier when he didn’t go because it made it less noticeable that I didn’t go. Now I don’t feel like I can stay home.
The Ahrens family sat together again in church on Sunday, and this time Genevieve talked herself into relaxing a little more. No one had grilled her on why she had been away so long. No one acted stunned to see Steven there. The atmosphere felt open and calming. She didn’t need to be defensive.
Nothing in the music or the message particularly touched Genevieve this time. But she found solace once again in studying the stained glass window. The image of Christ as the shepherd, lovingly caring for His lambs, brought comfort to her.
After church, Leah and her husband, Seth, invited the Ahrens to their home for lunch. Genevieve hesitated, but Steven was all for it, so they went.
The drive to Seth and Leah’s home was gorgeous on that cloudy afternoon. Late June tended to offer mixed weather in Glenbrooke. By July the summer sun made regular visits and scorched all the wildflowers in its wake, but today the wildflowers filled the sides of the highway with streamers of brilliant color. The blues and yellows were especially vibrant as Steven drove the van deeper into the woodlands. Genevieve drank in the color and scolded herself for sticking so close to home when so much beauty lay only a few miles out of town.
Seth and Leah had built their house in a tranquil clearing in the midst of a
spectacular wooded area, which they had inherited from Seth’s uncle. A gravel road, lined with tall lupines and bouncy buttercups, led to what looked like an enchanted cottage right out of a fairy tale. The house wasn’t overly cute or lined with fanciful gingerbread trim. It was built as a sturdy, log-framed woodcutter’s cabin. The charm came from the trees and the way they stood guard along the property’s perimeter.
“This is so pretty,” Anna said, as they parked the van along the side of the house. “If I knew how to do watercolor, I’d paint this place just the way it is.”
“You could do it, Anna,” Steven said. “What would you need? A canvas and an easel? We can get you set up. You should explore other forms of art and painting.”
Genevieve remembered when their eldest daughter had expressed interest in volleyball her freshman year of high school. Steven had researched local summer sports camps and arranged for Fina to participate in a prestigious group that used the UCLA campus during the summer. Fina was the youngest one there the first year, and Genevieve had urged Steven not to push their daughter so hard.
The encouragement turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to Fina. She excelled at volleyball. It became her sport all through high school and led to a college scholarship. Now she was spending the summer in Arizona, teaching volleyball clinics to high school girls and loving every minute of it.
It struck Genevieve that Steven had an ability to recognize another person’s passion and special talents. Then, with confidence, he encouraged and prompted that person to develop those skills and dreams.
For the first time, Genevieve realized she had never encouraged or praised her husband’s interest in flying. Piloting had been his passion for years, but she viewed it as her competition. The “love interest” that took her man away from her.
I’ve been so unfair.
“Coming?” Steven and the girls were already out of the van, and he was looking at her with questioning eyes. Genevieve was sitting there, stunned by the revelation that had come over her.
“Yes, I’m ready.”