“Ready.” Jancy quickly stood up.
Vicky and Emily walked on ahead with Nettie and Jancy a few feet behind. They were about halfway to the diner when Nettie raised an eyebrow. Jancy shrugged and shook her head. Jancy wasn’t ready to get in the middle of family problems. She’d been in that place before, and all it got her was a lot of misery.
She sucked in one more lungful of fresh morning air as Nettie unlocked the back door to the diner. “Want me to get out the pans of meat loaf and put them in the oven?”
Nettie looped a clean apron over her neck. “Not until we get the biscuits done for breakfast. You can make the dough up while I start a pot of gravy.”
Emily removed a stick of sausage from the refrigerator, pulled out a stockpot, and crumbled the meat into it. “I’ll make the gravy. I got hungry for sausage gravy and biscuits last spring and decided I’d make some.”
“And you made a pot this size, right?” Jancy carefully mixed the ingredients for the biscuits.
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t even think to size the recipe down. The whole dorm had biscuits and gravy that morning.” Emily laughed. “You must’ve made the same mistake, right?”
Jancy nodded. “Only it was with salsa. We served it at the Mexican restaurant where I worked and they shared the recipe. I was the only one who liked it at home, and there I was with a whole gallon.”
She remembered how her father had fussed for weeks about having to move it to the side every time he wanted a beer from the tiny refrigerator in the smallest trailer they’d ever lived in. With his ideas about a woman’s place being in the home and the man making a living, it was a miracle that he even allowed Jancy to get a job when she was sixteen. But they needed that paycheck. Old enough to work; old enough to make her own way—that became his philosophy.
As soon as the dough was ready, Jancy slid it over toward her area of the worktable, rolled it out, and cut it into perfect little circles.
“The other places I worked used frozen biscuits,” Jancy said.
“I mentioned that years ago and got shot down in a hurry.” Emily didn’t even look up from stirring the sausage. “In this diner everything is made from scratch.”
“Cash register is counted and loaded. I’ll get the tart shells put into the convection oven.” Vicky looped the strings of a bibbed apron over her head. “Y’all did a good job yesterday of taking care of the customers, so I’ll leave the front to y’all and help Nettie get things done back here.”
Jancy smiled at the compliment. Not that she was vain enough to ever think she’d be anything but an employee—well, maybe a friend—for the next couple of weeks, but it was nice to be appreciated.
Couple of weeks? In one more week, you’ll have the money to go. Don’t let moss grow on you, girl, or you’ll never leave. You were lookin’ for a job when you found this one, and there’s plenty more to be had. Her father’s voice came through loud and clear in her head.
But a few weeks won’t matter, she argued.
“Are we taking tarts to the picnic?” she blurted to get her father out of her head.
Vicky shook her head. “Rule says that only two can go out the door with anyone, and Nettie says that includes us. But she has a lemon sheet cake ready to go.”
“What about for the Strawberry Festival?” Jancy asked.
“We close up an hour or so early.”
“And I make extra for that day,” Nettie said.
Vicky flipped on all the lights and unlocked the door. “Shane and Ryder are already here.”
“And Woody is parking right beside them,” Emily said.
“Woody is early. Must be makin’ up for the fact that he was late a couple of days last week,” Nettie said.
Jancy caught a glimpse of Shane patting Woody on the shoulder as they made their way toward the diner. But she kept a close watch on Emily, whose eyes were glued on the trio. Something was definitely going on. Although she kept reminding herself that it was none of her business, despite Nellie’s instructions, curiosity was rising at a fast speed.
“Hey, Jancy, coffee for all three of us,” Woody said as they headed for a booth.
“Black, right?” she asked.
“Sunday morning pancakes or the big breakfast?” Nettie yelled from the back.
“You know us too well,” Woody hollered. “I’m goin’ to gain ten pounds today with a big breakfast and then another fifteen with the get-together at the park. Y’all goin’ to open back up for supper? I might just clog up my arteries real good if you are.”
Nettie poked her head out the door. “You could gain fifty pounds and still be too skinny. Biscuits are in the oven. Give ’em five minutes and they’ll come out to you pipin’ hot. And we aren’t opening back up after the picnic.”
“M-m-mornin’.” Shane flashed a bright smile past Nettie and toward the cash register area where Jancy and Emily were standing side by side. Jancy couldn’t tell if he was flirting with her or Emily or merely happy to be in the diner with breakfast on the way.
Ryder waved at Nettie. “Pancakes with sausage for me.”
“Pancakes w-with bacon, M-Miz Nettie. I’ll help you take the coffee to the table, Jancy.” Shane covered the distance from the booth to the counter in three long strides.
“You goin’ to the picnic?” Shane asked Jancy, derailing her train of thought. “I’ll be playin’ the fiddle for the dancin’.”
“Yes, I am and lookin’ forward to it,” she answered. “I had no idea you played the fiddle.”
“Grandpa taught m-me. I don’t read music. I just play by ear.” Shane smiled. “Reckon you could save m-m-me a dance?”
“Be glad to,” Jancy said. “But if you are dancin’, who will play?”
“I’ll step in and do my best,” Woody said. “I ain’t the musician this boy is, but I can do well enough for a set or two.”
“Do you still know how to clog?” Shane asked.
“How do you . . .” She paused. She’d never danced anywhere but in the backyard until she’d left Pick. She’d seen the kids clogging on the stage at the park at the festival the one year that she’d attended, and it looked like so much fun that she’d taught herself the steps.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime if you’ll save a dance for m-me,” Shane said.
“Haven’t danced a clog in years,” she said.
“It’s like ridin’ a bicycle. It all comes back to you,” Emily said as she picked up Woody’s breakfast and took it to the booth. “I can’t wait to dance. You going to be my partner, Ryder?”
“Sure, I will, darlin’.” He grinned.
There was a moment when their eyes locked, but it was gone so quickly that Jancy couldn’t be sure that it had even happened. The diner started filling up so fast then that she only caught a glimpse of the guys when they left. It turned into a constant hustle to keep coffee cups and orders filled. Then, boom, things began to slow down and Emily slipped a five-dollar bill into her pocket.