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“Well, it’s always nice when my students grow up and become successful adults,” Mrs. Jeffries told her warmly. “Abigail, I was so sorry to miss Frank’s funeral yesterday. My first great-granddaughter had her christening over in Three Forks, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint my grandson and his wife.”
Grandma reached up to pat Mrs. Jeffries’ arm reassuringly. “I understand. And I think you made the right choice. You’ll text me some photos? I can’t believe that Chris is all grown up with a daughter of his own!”
“Of course, I’ll send you some photos,” Mrs. Jeffries promised. “I was just on my way out, but I couldn’t leave without offering my condolences in person.”
“It’s very kind of you,” Grandma responded. “I don’t know what I’d do without everyone here supporting me.”
Mrs. Jeffries bent to give Grandma another hug, then beamed at Summer. “Are you thinking of moving back home?”
Summer shook her head. “No, I’m just here for a few weeks.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mrs. Jeffries told her. “It seems like all of our young people are leaving the town. I guess the big cities are more exciting. Well, it was lovely to see you again, dear.”
The diner’s smudged glass door had barely closed behind Mrs. Jeffries when lunch finally arrived.
Or at least Summer’s food arrived. Grandma Abigail’s waffle with a side of scrambled eggs and fried ham was still MIA.
“Oh, I think he’s making it now,” the waitress said with a shrug when Summer asked about it. “I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.” She cast an eye over the table with its empty coffee cup and soft drink glass. “You guys need a refill on anything?”
Summer bit back a snarky rejoinder. Instead, she nodded. “Yes, please.”
And silently added another couple of items to her “Must Fix” list for The Yummy Cowboy Diner.
“Please go ahead and start without me,” urged Grandma Abigail. “I don’t want your food getting cold.”
“If it isn’t cold already,” muttered Summer.
The large beige plate with the dark brown rim was sloppy and the presentation terrible, even for a diner.
Her heart sank as she noted the drips on the table where the gravy overflowed a mountain of mashed potatoes that had been plopped on the side of the plate.
This is going to be terrible. Summer braced herself as she reluctantly scooped up a forkful from the thick slice of meatloaf and lifted it to her lips.
To her astonishment, the meatloaf was moist and flavorful, and above all, well-seasoned. The sloppy pool of thick brown liquid turned out to be a caramelized onion gravy, clearly scratch-made rather than from a packaged mix. It was so good that she wanted to lick every last drop from the plate.
Most surprising of all, the mashed potatoes had clearly been made from fresh Yukon Gold potatoes laced with butter, milk, garlic, and salt.
Clearly, the cooks in this kitchen didn’t believe in using either instant gravy or instant mashed potatoes.Good.
“Well?” Grandma Abigail asked, smiling. “What do you think?”
She’d been observing Summer’s changing expression as she took her first few bites.
“It’s good,” Summer admitted. “I mean,reallygood. I can see why you think this place is worth saving. When you and your co-owner redo the menu, I think this meatloaf needs to stay.”
Grandma Abigail nodded. “And the waffles are the best I’ve ever had. They should stay, too.”
Her gaze drifted over Summer’s shoulder. The crow’s feet radiating from the corners of her bright blue eyes deepened as her smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Ah, and speaking of which, here comes my special.”
“Mrs. S!” a male voice called, the deep tones cutting effortlessly through the buzz of talk in the dining room. “Terri told me you were here! So, I thought I’d serve you myself… and tell you how sorry I was to hear about Mr. S’s death.”
Summer twisted around and peered at the man approaching from the kitchen. He balanced a pair of the ugly beige-and-brown plates in his hands, one mounded with whipped cream and laced with purple huckleberry sauce, and the other holding scrambled eggs and a slab of fried ham.
Her first impression of Grandma’s business partner was of intense dark brown eyes fringed by sinfully long lashes. He had short, dark hair, and sexy scruff highlighting a firm jaw. He was tall, with long, jeans-clad legs and broad shoulders stretching the fabric of a red The Yummy Cowboy Diner t-shirt that looked like it had been spray-painted on him.
Summer’s mouth went dry. All of her hormones revved into overdrive.
Holy moly, I’ll have what Grandma’s having!
