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I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I would have.”
I stirred the pot of sauce, quickly dipping a spoon in to taste. Then dipped it in again and walked over to Brooke, stopping in front of her and blowing on the hot sauce.
“Open up,” I said, lowering the spoon and placing it into her mouth.
Her eyes lit up as she tasted the sauce and she softly smiled. “This is excellent.”
“You’re just saying that.” I said, moving across the kitchen back to the stove where I placed the garlic bread in to cook.
“I’m not, I mean it. It’s the best sauce I’ve tasted,” she said, licking her lips.
“Thanks.” I grew quiet. No one had ever complimented me before. It felt weird, and I really didn’t know what to say or do with it.
“You know, I can see it on your face that you love to cook. You seem to be at peace in the kitchen, even today at the store while baking. It’s almost like your soul knows that is the perfect space for you.”
I looked over my shoulder at her and smiled. “Thanks, I really do. It’s one of the only places I feel like myself is when I am in the kitchen, not necessarily when baking but when cooking.”
As the timer went for the oven, I pulled the bubbling cheesy garlic bread from the oven and began plating our food. Then I carried the plates over to the table and set them down, sitting down across from Brooke and filling up both of our glasses with more wine.
“So, what about you?” I asked, digging my fork into the pasta. “Are you happy here, running The Crispy Biscuit?”
She thought for a moment. “You know, I am. I actually wasn’t sure I would love it as much as I do. When I was a little girl, I had dreams of growing up and leaving this town and doing something amazing, but the older I got, this was just home. Of course, I wanted to stake my own claim here, but then circumstances changed, and here I am.” She smiled softly with a faraway look in her eyes.
“What happened?”
“Well, originally, The Crispy Biscuit was run by my grandmother. My Mom and Dad took it over when she could no longer manage it. I worked there through high school, waiting tables, and when it came time to go to college, I was at a loss. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So, Mom suggested taking a cooking course. I wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea, but I did it anyways. I started off here in Willow Valley, doing a couple cooking courses to make sure I liked it first. When I had completed it, I decided to enroll in a professional course.
“Anyways, just before I was leaving for school my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, and just before she passed away, she told me how proud she was of me for following in the family’s footsteps. She was thrilled to know that The Crispy Biscuit would continue on.”
I listened with full attention as she spoke. It wasn’t a wonder why this place meant so much to her.
“Anyways, time passed and I completed the courses, and a few months after I graduated, my Mom was diagnosed with the exact same cancer. It was a trying time. She had to stop working to go through treatments, and she needed my dad there with her, so they both semi-retired, and I ended up taking over the business on a temporary basis. As time went on, I knew my parents were struggling financially. They were paying for all the travel, and of course, my mom’s medical costs. So, I’d decided to help with the cost of those treatments. I took the money from the banked profits of the business, but soon I was having issues paying for things and paying my staff. When my parents found out they, demanded I stop, however, I didn’t want to see my parents lose their retirement savings.” She swallowed hard and picked up her wine, taking a sip.
“Wow, Brooke, I am so sorry.”
“Anyways, one night after a long day, I sat down trying to figure out how I was going to make extra income. The diner took up all my time. There was no way I could pick up another job, so that was when I decided to open up the sweets counter. I’d learned to bake some of the most amazing things at school, and my talent was being wasted by not using it. So, I went to the bank and got a small loan to buy the display cases and I opened that to help pay for my mother’s treatments. The diner was running perfectly fine and turning a profit, so I knew I could afford to take my attention from it for a bit to get this going.”
“Wow, you did all that for them?”
She nodded her head. “Yes, I did. However, it really was the best decision I ever made. I applied to Baking Crate for seven straight months before they even replied asking for a sample. Once accepted and things got moving, something magical happened. I was able to not only pay for all the things my mom needed, but I was also able to replenish their savings. Then I was able to buy the space next to the diner and add on the extra kitchen space. My mom went through her treatments and recovered, and now they are happily retired,” she finished and softly smiled.
“I had no idea…”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. No one really does. We kept it quiet. Word spreads in this town fast, in case you didn’t find that out when I got hurt, but that is why I fight so hard for this. That part of the business was born entirely because of my want to help my parents. It’s my baby, and that is why I am so protective of it. I don’t know where I would be without it, or if The Crispy Biscuit would even still be here.”
“Wow, Brooke, I truly had no idea.” I grew quiet.
“You know what the worst part is?”
I looked at her. She wasn’t just running a small-town diner that had a stroke of luck like I’d originally thought. She was running something that literally had been built from the ground up and something that gave the gift of life to another. She’d done all this work for another person. A totally selfless act.
“I don’t know if I could do it again if ever I had to,” she said, picking up her napkin and dabbing her eyes.
I had no words of advice to give her, probably because I’d never been in that situation. She wiped her eyes again, took in a breath, then sipped her wine. I watched as she began digging into the food on her plate. As I sat there, the last conversation with my brother popped into my mind. We’d had another one of our famous arguments. As always he was disappointed in me and had no problem expressing that to me. Just before we were about to hang up, he’d told me that he wished I would change and do something for someone else as opposed to always doing things to only benefit myself. Then the only person in my life that I fully admired and still had in my life after my parents’ death cleared his throat and told me not to bother calling him again unless I’d changed. The line went dead, and that was the end of our conversation, and that was the last conversation I’d had with my brother. It had been almost three years.
Brooke cleared her throat and met my eyes. “Tristan, this is really, really good. You really should think about opening up a restaurant. I’ve never tasted anything like this,” she said, taking a bite of one of the meatballs on her plate.
“Thanks, but really I know I don’t have what it takes. It was just a silly dream.”
