The Strawberry Hearts Diner

“Thank you,” Woody said when they got him set. “I thought I’d better have one, since there’s only four left and Nettie won’t be able to make them for a few days.”

“Jancy and Em-Em-Emily are going to try their hand at making them.” Shane stammered even more than usual.

“Well, now, that’ll be interesting.” Woody picked up the tart with his fingers and took a bite. “Just take a word of advice, darlin’, and don’t get too good at it or Nettie won’t feel needed. It might even be best if you fail and have to make something else like strawberry cupcakes so that her feelin’s won’t be hurt. This is her claim to fame.”

Jancy gave him two thumbs-up. “You may have something there. I’ll suggest that to Emily. We could make cupcakes or one of Nettie’s lemon sheet cakes.”

“Strawberry cupcakes,” Woody said. “That’ll be keepin’ with the name of the diner just fine. Put a little heart-shaped candy on the top and all will be good. And wrap up two of what’s left for me to take with me. If I can’t get one for a few days, that might tide me over.”

“You’ll eat them both tonight,” Shane laughed.

“Probably so, and I’ll whine and carry on about not havin’ any more. Here come the kids with the stuff.” He polished off the rest of the tart and downed half a cup of coffee. “Y’all ain’t to worry about one thing. I’ll be by first thing in the mornin’ to see what you need done.”

“Thanks, Woody,” Jancy said.

“And soon as I get that phone down there, I’ll tell Vicky to check in with an update about every hour. See you later.” He met Emily in the parking lot and put the duffel bag and purse into the passenger’s seat of his truck.

“You okay? You look like you’ve been cryin’,” Jancy asked Emily.

“I have, but I’m better. It just hit me hard that life without Nettie would be so empty and . . .” She grabbed a napkin and dabbed the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I need to be stronger. I was raised by the strongest women in the whole county. This is unacceptable.”

Ryder drew her close for a hug. “It’s okay. Cry if you want to.”

She leaned into his chest and then took a step back. “Thank you for the hugs and for helping me at the house. I’ll be fine—especially after I see her tonight. Y’all will be here at seven thirty, right?”

“On the button,” Shane said. “We should get on back to the shop. I promised that feller that his car would be detailed and ready to pick up by five.”

The diner seemed emptier than usual when they’d left. Jancy grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Emily began to spray the booth seats down, and then she dusted the mini blinds covering all the windows in the place.

“Where does Shane live these days?”

“In a little white house just north of the junkyard and body shop.”

“What was that old story about his folks?”

Emily sat down on a bar stool and twirled it around so she could lean against the counter. “Story is that his parents married young, and after he was born they decided they were going to join up with a commune up in Wyoming. His grandpa told them that they weren’t takin’ a two-year-old off like that, so they gave Shane to him to raise. Nettie thinks that the reason he stutters on W and M is because their names were Waylon and Melissa. They both died a couple of years after they left. Shane’s grandpa says they got the flu and the people in the commune didn’t believe in doctors or medicine. They were treating them with herbal stuff. Pneumonia was what was on the death certificates. They’d asked to be cremated like your mama was and for their ashes to be spread over the mountains.”

“I remember part of that story but had forgotten about their names,” Jancy said. “And Ryder? Where’s his folks?”

“Both passed away a while back. His mama is buried in Dallas and his dad up in Montana. I think he still has cousins, but he never has much contact with them. He still lives with Shane when he’s in town. They’ve always been like brothers,” Emily answered. “What about you? Other than that cousin you were going to visit, you got any others?”

“Nope. You?”

“Some distant ones scattered around Texas but no one that we’ve kept up with other than cards at Christmas,” Emily said.

Jancy finished sweeping, poured two glasses of sweet tea, and carried them to the booth. “I always wanted a brother or a sister.”

“Me, too,” Emily said. “I’m having half a dozen kids. Being an only child is lonely.”

Jancy sighed. “You are preachin’ to the choir, girlfriend.”





CHAPTER TEN


Vicky hadn’t had such nervous jitters since the day she and Creed told Nettie that she was pregnant and they wanted to get married. She’d barely settled down when Creed had died in the motorcycle wreck. She’d been disappointed when Emily told her that she wanted to finish college with online courses, but she didn’t get the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach that seeing Nettie hooked up with tubes brought about.

Andy laid a hand on her forearm. “I must’ve driven past your diner hundreds of times. It all started with a girl from Pick who came in for a wedding cake.”

Making small talk wouldn’t make the emptiness in her gut go away. Even so, his touch was comforting. It helped knowing that another person was there trying to soothe the vacuum that fear created.

He went on. “What she really wanted instead of a groom’s cake was a fancy tiered stand with tarts from your diner on it, but it wasn’t possible. When I asked her why, she told me the rule about only two going out the door. I thought she was crazy, but then a couple of my employees stopped just to see what the big deal was, and they came back raving about them. So I decided to see for myself.”

Listening to his deep drawl kept Vicky from letting herself go into that dark place where pictures of Nettie in a casket flashed through her thoughts.

“And you are thinking of that, why?” she asked.

“If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have gotten a cravin’ for them and I wouldn’t be here today with you. There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said.

“In a hospital?”

Nettie chuckled, interrupting the moment. “Well, darlin’, that’s where you are. Why don’t you two go on out of here for a spell? Get something to eat. Take a walk around the hospital grounds. Talk without a nosy old woman hearing every word you are sayin’.”

“I’m not leavin’ you alone,” Vicky declared.

“And you are welcome to listen and even give advice if you want.” Andy grinned. “I’ve never been very good with women. I’m not exactly a candidate for someone to take home to meet the parents. Can’t y’all just hear a woman introducing me? ‘Andy makes wedding cakes and cute little fancy cookies, Mama. Isn’t he just the dreamiest?’”

Vicky giggled. “I know exactly how you feel. Can’t you hear what a man would say if he took me home to meet Mama? ‘She owns this old diner, works seven days a week, and has a twenty-two-year-old daughter. Yes, she’s been a single mother for all those years and she’s only been out of Texas a couple of times in her life.’”