Tanyalee sniffed into her monogrammed linen hankie, then pushed away her sunglasses so she could dab her eyes. This last denial had just made it official—she was now completely and utterly humiliated! First, she’d been turned away at the animal shelter, a high school acquaintance telling her, “this kind of work would be too unpleasant for someone like you.” Then she’d been denied at the community recreation center, a former boyfriend saying, “you need experience in team sports, and the last time I checked, shoplifting wasn’t considered a team sport.” But with this last one, the degradation was complete! Because, really—what type of soup kitchen turns away volunteers?
The one run by Maryvelle Spickler Wilcox, apparently.
Tanyalee flung open the squeaky door of Viv’s pink Cadillac. She plopped down behind the white leather steering wheel, slammed the door shut, and peeled out of the parking lot of the Bread of Kindness Center. Bread of Kindness? How about Bitch of Kindergarten? That would be more accurate!
As Tanyalee turned onto East Road, she reviewed the horrible, terrible exchange she’d just had. Surely she didn’t deserve the treatment Maryvelle had given her. All Tanyalee had done was tell the sweet young woman at the front window that she’d like to volunteer, but the girl said Tanyalee would have to speak with the director. And out walked Maryvelle, who had not aged gracefully, truth be told. It seemed all the nibbles of bread she’d been sneaking hadn’t been kind to her backside.
“Tanyalee Newberry,” Maryvelle had said with a little laugh. “I didn’t know they’d let you out.”
Tanyalee’s spine stiffened. “Whatever do you mean?”
Maryvelle looked her up and down and shook her head. “Really, Tanyalee? You came in here dressed like that?”
Tanyalee examined herself, shocked at her old classmate’s harsh appraisal of her outfit. She was wearing a simple khaki pencil skirt, a carnation-pink twinset, and her customary single strand of pearls. What could possibly be wrong with that?
“You’re aware this is a soup kitchen, right?”
“Of course I know it’s a soup kitchen, Maryvelle. That’s why I’m here. I’d like to help ya’ll out.”
“Community service hours?”
Tanyalee sniffed. Maryvelle was certainly enjoying herself, wasn’t she? “If you must know—yes.”
She laughed at Tanyalee, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, I must know, since I would be the one who’d have to verify to the Cataloochee County Circuit Court how many hours you’ve worked. Isn’t that great?”
Tanyalee pursed her lips and refused to dignify that with a response.
“How many hours do you need?”
“Two hundred.”
Maryvelle whistled. “Well, now, that’s an awful lot. And we already have dozens of volunteers helping us do the Lord’s work, and most of them are fulfilling community service hours, I might add. Seems half the town’s on probation.”
“That’s real cute, Maryvelle, but I’m sure you could always use more help.”
Maryvelle smiled at her. It wasn’t a particularly Christian smile. “Do you remember kindergarten, Tanyalee? Mrs. Cline’s class?”
“Of course.” She answered pleasantly, though she doubted the overall pleasant direction this exchange was about to take. “I loved how she hung our finger paintings from a clothesline that stretched all around the classroom. She was such a sweet old lady.”
“Yeah.” Maryvelle tilted her head and smirked at Tanyalee. “Do you remember how you ruined my life in kindergarten?”
Tanyalee blinked as something vaguely unpleasant began to nudge its way into the edges of her brain, trying to get itself remembered, but kindergarten had been an awfully long time ago. Besides, she didn’t recall much about the year her parents had died, which Dr. Leslie said was common for children who’d experienced trauma. “Well,” Tanyalee said, swallowing down a surprising rush of emotion. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, Maryvelle, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been all that bad. I mean, it was kindergarten, for heaven’s sake.”
Maryvelle stared at her in disbelief for a moment before she laughed. “Really? Well, let me refresh your memory, princess. One day you got it in your head that you wanted to stand next to Dale Wilcox in the cafeteria line, but that’s where I was standing, because Dale and I liked each other.”
Tanyalee began to get a sinking feeling in her belly.
“And so what did the pretty little spoiled rich girl do to get her way? She just walked right on up and grabbed hold of the waistband of my Garanimals pedal pushers and yanked them down until my bare bottom was hangin’ out for everyone to see!”
Tanyalee gasped. “I did not!” She paused. “I didn’t … did I?”
“Oh, yes you did, you horrible little slut! I cried my eyes out for a month! Dale didn’t speak to me again until fourth grade! You were a demon-child and I hated you! I still do!”
Tanyalee tried her best not to let her nostrils flare with rage, because a lady’s nostrils never flared, even when she’d been provoked to this degree. Besides, things were not as neat and tidy as Maryvelle made them out to be. Tanyalee distinctly remembered how cruel Maryvelle had been to Tater Wayne when they were young, calling him names, making fun of his eyeball and his bad teeth.
Yet suddenly, Dr. Leslie’s words wafted through her mind like a cooling breeze—“An opportunity to make amends might arise when you least expect it. Remain willing. Remember, it’s not about who’s right and who’s wrong—it’s about who’s mindful enough to seek the gift of healing for everyone involved.”
But what was she supposed to say? Technically, it seemed like she could have been cruel to Maryvelle, but what was the statute of limitations for something like that? Tanyalee took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I did that to you all those years ago, Maryvelle.”
“If?” She stuck her index finger in Tanyalee’s face. “You did do that to me! The incident left me so scarred that I decided to dedicate my life in service to the downtrodden, and I am here doing the Lord’s work eight to five, five days a week.”
She felt as if a dry dishrag were lodged in her throat. She couldn’t swallow. “I…” Her hands trembled as she struggled for the words. “I am truly sorry I hurt you.”
Maryvelle blinked in surprise, lowering her accusatory finger. “Well, then, okay. But my answer is still hell no! Hell no, you may not help us provide Christian charity to those in need here at Bread of Kindness, because we do not want ungodly people such as yourself.”
Oh, it was hard. The perfect comeback was on the tip of Tanyalee’s tongue. Ungodly? How ungodly was it when the Reverend Spickler’s daughter got arrested at a junior-high pot party? Or when Dale Wilcox got her pregnant at fifteen? Ungodly, Maryvelle? You were married to that no-good womanizer for a decade before he divorced you, and now here you are, secretly mad at God and serving soup to street people while busting out of your jeans!
But Tanyalee said none of it. There was no point. Maryvelle had suffered enough, she supposed, and those mean words wouldn’t have done anybody any good—not Maryvelle or Dale or their kids or Tanyalee.
With what air she had left, Tanyalee said, “I appreciate your time. Good luck with your mission. I hope one day you might be able to forgive me.”
Now, with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, Tanyalee realized that her step work might have to extend well before high school, perhaps even into her toddler years. She decided that when she got back to Aunt Viv’s house, she’d get herself a lemonade and start really giving this some thought. How many of my life’s terrible, horrible relationships are entirely my fault?
The tears rolled down her cheeks as she drove through downtown Bigler. At the stoplight at Main and Boscombe, she grabbed her hankie and blew her nose. About ten seconds later, she slammed on the brakes. “What in heaven’s name—”
When had Jonesy Carmichael’s old insurance building become a hub of downtown revitalization? Tanyalee saw pickup trucks parked half on the sidewalk, men teetering on scaffolding, and from inside the old brick building came the pounding of hammers and the buzz of a mechanical saw. She did a U-turn and parked across the street, then got out of the Cadillac, the tears and the unpleasantness with Maryvelle forgotten.
“Yoo-hoo!” she called out into the open front door. Tanyalee coughed from the clouds of dust and backed away, aware that no one could hear her with all that racket going on. So she walked around the side of the building and into the unkempt back parking area. She stepped over broken bottles and construction debris, climbed up the back steps, and poked her head through the open back door.
“Oh, my goodness!” She put a hand to her heart in surprise. “I am so sorry!”
Turner Halliday had Candy Carmichael cornered in the back hallway, kissing the living daylights out of her. Tanyalee had clearly intruded upon an extremely private—and hot—moment between lovers. She spun around and headed back down the steps, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
“Hold up, Tanyalee,” Turner said, the amusement plain in his voice. “I was just leaving.” The statement made Candy giggle.
Tanyalee collected herself, knowing full well that was a lie, then turned around again. She smiled brightly at the two of them. “I just stopped by to see what was going on with the building. We can visit some other time.”
“No, now is completely fine.” Candy yanked a paper mask up over her mouth. “Here,” Candy said, taking a mask from the box and handing one to Tanyalee. “The plaster dust isn’t good for you.”
“It’s not good for anyone,” Turner said, resting a proprietary hand on Candy’s belly. When Candy placed her hand over Turner’s, Tanyalee noticed the sparkle of a nice little engagement ring on her left hand—what looked to be about a half-carat brilliant-cut diamond with little baguettes on each side.
Tanyalee almost fell backward down the crumbling concrete steps.
“Bye, baby.” Turner nuzzled Candy’s neck. “What time should I pick you up?”
“About six is fine.”
He kissed her cheek. “Love you. Promise me no ladders, okay?”
“No ladders. Love you, too.”
Turner paused and placed a hand on Tanyalee’s shoulder. It was a friendly gesture she hadn’t expected. “Nice to see you, Tanyalee. Welcome home.”
“Why, thank you, Turner!” She stepped aside and watched him practically skip down the steps and around the side of the building. Tanyalee pulled the elastic strap over her head, careful not to disturb her chignon, and adjusted the mask into place. “My goodness!” she said to Candy. “I leave for a few weeks and the whole world changes!”
Candy laughed, then gave Tanyalee a warm hug. “You were gone two and a half months. A lot can happen in that amount of time.”
Tanyalee knew it was impolite of her, but she glanced down at Candy’s belly then at her engagement ring, just double-checking that she wasn’t imagining just how much had happened. When she looked up again, Candy was smiling at her from behind her paper mask. “Oh! I’m sorry, but I … I couldn’t help but notice…”
“Yes. I’m pregnant.”
“Please tell me you weren’t hurt in all that drug ruckus out in Preston Valley. Aunt Viv told me what happened. It sounded so perfectly awful!”
“I’m fine,” Candy said, wrapping her arms around herself. “It was bad. It’ll take time for the memory of it to fade, but I’m lucky that I have so much to look forward to.” Her eyes misted over. “I am blessed in my life these days.”
Tanyalee blinked, not able to speak right away. She noticed how truly beautiful her sister’s best friend was. Her skin was pink. Her blond curls were thick and glossy. Her eyes shone with joy. Tanyalee remembered her own pregnancy, and how she hadn’t been able to take any pleasure in the changes her body was going through. She certainly wasn’t all pretty and radiant the way Candy was right now. Maybe it was because her circumstances had been so different from Candy’s. Sure, Tanyalee had trapped J.J. into getting her pregnant, but she couldn’t force him to love her, and he’d never touched her again.
Ironically, Tanyalee had just begun to adjust to her pregnant body when she’d miscarried—and the whole lie crashed down around her. She had to shut her eyes against the sudden rush of shame.
“The doctor says I’ll really start showing about the time we have our grand opening.”
“Well, you look so beautiful and I’m so happy for you, Candy.” Only then did Tanyalee hear the words Candy had just spoken. “Grand opening?” She looked down the narrow hallway into the huge front room. For the first time she noticed the roughed-in plumbing, new drywall, and the ductwork taking shape high up in the ceiling. “Grand opening for what, exactly?”
Candy’s face expanded in a huge smile that pushed up her cheeks and crinkled her eyes. “My own bakery! Can you believe it? We’ve still got some design decisions to make, but we’re opening in three weeks, whether we’re ready or not.”
Tanyalee clapped her hands together. “That’s fabulous news!” She craned her neck to see around Candy. “Can you give me a tour?”
“Of course.” Candy gestured for her to follow. “I know it’s pretty loud so forgive me if I’m screaming at you.”
Tanyalee waved her hand. “Scream away.”
Candy gestured into a room already being fitted with a walk-in refrigerator-freezer, a double oven and commercial range, two sinks, a dishwasher, and lots of stainless steel countertop surface. Several men who were laying tile looked up and smiled at the women. Tanyalee waved. Candy continued toward the large open area toward the front. “Now, I don’t know if you were ever in here when it was Jonesy’s insurance business, but this first floor was chopped up into tiny offices, so we took down all the interior walls. I envisioned one big, modern space for serving and seating.”
Candy pointed to her right. “Over here against this wall will be the front counter and the bakery display case. We’ll have a coffee machine, an espresso maker, and a soft-serve ice-cream dispenser, plus a refrigerator case.” She gestured to her left. “Against the other exposed brick wall we’ll have bookshelves and a couple of sofa and chair groupings, then out here we’ll have about ten bistro tables.”
Tanyalee was stunned. She knew that Candy and Cheri had flipped real estate in Florida and had been involved in some commercial properties, but she had no idea Candy had such vision. “This is going to be really special,” she said, mostly to herself. “Seriously—this place will singlehandedly bring Bigler into the twenty-first century.”
Candy laughed. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”
Tanyalee looked around again and shook her head. “I’m really impressed.”
“But surprised.”
Tanyalee blinked. “What? No. Of course not.” She attempted to cover up her rudeness. “All I meant was that it was nice to see all the work going on here. I’ve had such a rotten morning, and I was driving home and—” She stopped in mid-sentence, feeling the sting of tears threatening for the second time that day, which had to be some kind of record. And that’s when it dawned on her—she would never be happy the way Candy was. Unlike Candy, she didn’t deserve another chance at love and a family of her own. She didn’t have the luxury of dreaming big. She wasn’t a sweet, funny, and genuine woman like Candy, who deserved a good, kind, handsome man like Turner. Tanyalee was the kind of woman who had wild sex with a dark and dangerous stranger in a hotel room on her way back from rehab!
She was no dummy. She knew what people said. They said karma was a bitch—and so was Tanyalee Marie Newberry.
“Tanyalee? Are you okay?”
She offered up one of her fake smiles, expecting the result to be effortless, the way it had always been. But Tanyalee felt her face begin to fall under the weight of the lie. She needed to get out of there. Right away. She didn’t want Candy to see her like this, because surely she’d tell Cheri, and nothing good would come of that. “I’m fine, but I do need to go. I have a million and one things to do today. Busy, busy, busy!” She kissed Candy on her cheek. “I’m so happy for you! Thankyousoverymuch for the tour!”
Tanyalee decided to brave the dust and debris and made a beeline for the front door. It would be quicker than going out the back. With luck she would have just enough time to get across Main Street and into Aunt Viv’s Cadillac before she lost it completely.
The instant her heel hit the sidewalk, she felt Candy’s grip on her upper arm. “Tanyalee.”
“I have to go.”
“Please stay another minute. You seem very upset. Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head, not looking at Candy. “It’s just … nothing seems to be going right since I got back. I can’t find a job. Nobody wants me as a volunteer and I have to get in two hundred hours! It’s like I have leprosy or something! And I made a horrible mistake on my way back from Arizona. I met this man on the plane and now I can’t stop thinking about him.”
At first, Candy didn’t say anything. Eventually, she whispered, “Oh.”
“I know.” Tanyalee hid her face in her hands. “It’s the absolute last thing I should have done. Now he’s stuck in my brain like a burr on stray dog!”
“Maybe if the two of you talk, you can figure it out.”
“Hah!” Tanyalee crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m no psychic, but I know for sure that’s never going to happen. Never, ever, ever.”
“He’s not much of a talker?”
Tanyalee chuckled, staring out across the street, knowing there was nothing left to say about Dan Carnes. She didn’t know if he was much of a talker. They hadn’t done much talking. She didn’t know what kind of music he liked or what kind of car he drove or what he liked to eat except enough room service to feed a whole family. She only knew two things about Dan Carnes: he was the most incredible lover she’d ever had and he was a complete mistake. An eight-hour mistake. And since that was less time than some energy drinks lasted, she shouldn’t be having this much trouble forgetting him.
“It’s none of my business. Sorry.” Candy cleared her throat. “Tanyalee, I have a favor to ask.”
She sniffed, managing to regroup enough to face Candy once more. “Sure. I’ll do my best to help you in any way I can.”
“Would you work for me here at Candy Pants?”
Before she could stop herself, Tanyalee burst out with a laugh. “Candy Pants? That’s the name of your bakery?”
Candy nodded, a shy smile on her lips. “It’s the nickname Turner has for me. Long story.”
Tanyalee blinked at her, trying to get this request to register. She wiped at her eyes. “You want me to work for you? Are you kidding me?”
Candy laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked. I need full-time help at the counter running the register, answering the phone for catering inquiries, and making some local deliveries. I need someone with customer service experience—someone I can trust.”
Tanyalee felt her mouth unhinge. Despite Aunt Viv’s voice in the back of her brain—“close your mouth, Taffy Marie. You’re letting in all the flies”—she couldn’t manage to snap her lips shut. Candy wanted her to operate a cash register? Candy trusted her? With a cash register? How could that be?
“Please say you will. It would take a load off my shoulders to know I won’t have to advertise for help.” Candy rubbed her belly absently. “I’ve got enough to deal with right now.”
“Of course! Yes! When do I start?”
Candy smiled at her. “Well, I can’t hire you full-time until a few days before we open, but if you’d like to get some part-time hours in right away, it would be great if you could help me with setup.”
“Yes! I can be here tomorrow morning!”
“That’s fabulous. Now, what’s the deal with volunteering? I can’t believe people don’t need help around here, with the economy the way it is.”
Tanyalee rolled her eyes. “They need help, all right, but not from me. Maryvelle Spickler Wilcox over at the soup kitchen just turned me away because I was mean to her in kindergarten.”
Candy smiled. “Well, Maryvelle might love Jesus but I hear she hates pretty much everyone else since Dale ran off with the Piggly Wiggly cashier.”
Tanyalee began to laugh, but figured it would be unkind. But it was a relief to know that Maryvelle was nasty in general and not just to her in particular.
“Do you like kids?” Candy asked.
“Of course! Do you want me to babysit?”
“You’d have to fight my mom for that job, but thanks.” Candy grinned and rubbed her tummy again. “I asked because I know they’re always looking for women to volunteer at the Girls Club of Cataloochee County. It’s mostly at-risk middle-school and junior-high girls who don’t have mothers. I know the volunteer coordinator over there, and I could call ahead and let her know you’ll be stopping by. It might be worth a shot.”
Tanyalee suddenly felt a big ole ton of weight lifting from her heart and spirit. Candy was being so kind. It almost felt like they were friends, which she knew couldn’t be possible—could it?
“I appreciate you hiring me, Candy, I truly do. And offering to help me get in my volunteer hours. But I have to ask—why? I know you’re Cheri’s best friend and I know she’s told you everything I did to her. I’m sorry for every one of those stupid, selfish things, but I know you can’t think well of me. So why go out of your way to be so nice?”
Candy frowned and studied Tanyalee for a moment, then shrugged. “Look, none of us are perfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes and have had to ask for another chance. I think we all deserve that. There’s only one thing I’ll ask you to do.”
“Anything.”
“You need to sit down and talk with your sister. She’s the one who needs to hear that you’re sorry for everything that happened in the past, not me.”
Tanyalee nodded. “You’re right, of course, and I plan to call her right away.”
Candy frowned. “But Cheri and J.J. won’t be back from their honeymoon for another week. Viv told you, right?”
“Oh, shoot. That’s right.” Tanyalee gave Candy another quick hug. “See you tomorrow, and thank you!”
As she made her way to Aunt Viv’s Cadillac, Tanyalee had to laugh. Technically, no one had told her about the honeymoon, which wasn’t particularly shocking, since the Newberry family’s communication style was made up mostly of rumor, denial, and eavesdropping.
The truth was, Tanyalee couldn’t remember the last time a Newberry was direct about anything.