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“You don’t need any more work,” Addie admonished. “Gentlemen, clean up after yourselves.”
The look that passed between DJ and Wyatt made Tara laugh. They looked more like the kids they used to be than the men they were. It was nice.
Tara loved these people. Her family. Her siblings. She was proud of them, proud to be one of them.
Wyatt owned and operated one of Texas’s most successful cattle ranches. DJ helped him, though her brother was still a soldier at heart despite his injuries. Addie was a teacher who focused on tough kids. Her other siblings, who weren’t here—though they would be if they were in the state—were just as successful.
She was determined to be successful, too.
She looked around at the half-done diner she was trying to turn into a popular, busy restaurant. Their comments and reactions from the other night returned and sparked her feeling of inadequacy again.
What if their concerns were proven right and she failed? What if no one came here to eat? What if that Sylvie woman was right and it was an ugly mistake? The delicious burger turned to dust in her mouth.
Tara felt an arm slip around her. “Do what you always do,” Addie said softly.
“What’s that?”
“Ignore us completely.”
CHAPTER TWO
TARA’S INSPIRATION FOR the Someday Café had come from the kitchen where she’d grown up. Mom’s kitchen had been the warmest, most wondrous place in all the world—the center of the house and the center of Tara’s life. When Mom had died, Tara had grieved nearly as much about losing her safe place as she had about losing the woman she’d loved.
Now, with the café’s walls painted the soft, robin’s-egg blue, the wood floor newly refinished and all the counters and appliances fixed and cleaned, the large room sat empty.
Not for long.
She’d spent the past few months—in between meetings with Jason about the legalities, real estate and staff—roaming yard sales and flea markets to find the perfect things to decorate her new space. Now all those things were coming out of storage.
First, though, she purposefully went out to the truck and gently lifted the dining room chair that she’d taken from Mom’s place the day after the funeral.
Each of her siblings had the chair that meant the most to them. None of them matched, actually. Mom and Dad had bought the dining room set, the thick table and six chairs, at a garage sale when they were newlyweds. Six kids had done a number on nearly every chair in the house.
Tara wasn’t even sure if any of the ones they had taken were originals. The final set was a mismatched bunch of wooden chairs. Some with ladder backs. Some with straight backs. Some with curved wooden arms. Some without.
All precious and familiar.
Wyatt had the big captain’s chair with its curved arms and sturdy back that had been Dad’s. The finish on both arms was thin from Dad’s movements, rubbing the wood when he was deep in thought, and later from when DJ had had to use the arms to stand after he’d come home injured.
This one had always been hers. As the youngest, she’d been the smallest, so the Jenny Lind style had fit her best. She’d loved it. Still did.
Carrying it in, she set it near the long diner counter that was lined with the only seating places at the moment. Perfect.
“Where do you want this?” DJ’s voice echoed in the empty space. He easily carried the square wood table over his broad shoulders. She smiled and pointed to the corner.
She’d planned where every single piece was going to go. She’d imagined it all.
Wyatt and Lane came in with an oval dining table. “Right here.” Smack in the middle of the room. The biggest table, it would be the centerpiece for larger parties and events.
“I got this one, Aunt Tara.” Tyler had a lone chair—his enthusiasm warmed her. He had the same determined look as his father had carrying the table.
“Put that by the table your dad just set down.”
For the next hour, they all carried furniture and arranged to her directions the assorted, mismatched tables and chairs. Then finally, once the room was full, they brought in the boxes of knickknacks and decorations.
DJ started hanging pictures where she indicated. Tyler watched and handed him nails from a bucket.
