A Good Measure, page 11
“Can we open this, too?” Ellie asked, holding up a jar.
“Where was that?!” Libby asked in surprise. “I searched high and low for marmalade when Uncle Gage was here.”
“It was right in front,” Ellie replied, grinning.
Libby shook her head in dismay. “We can open it. Shall we have it on toast or pound cake?”
“Oooh! Pound cake!”
Libby laughed and set two plates on the counter. “Milk, honey, or lemon in your tea?”
“A little milk, please.” Ellie brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Most of the time, she loved the way her bangs fell across her face, except when she was looking for something. She stood up, pushed her hand back through her hair, held it there, and noticed a cardboard box in the corner with the word Hummer scrawled across it. Triumphantly, she dragged it out and pulled open the flaps. “Found ’em!” she announced, lifting out two hummingbird feeders.
“Where?” Libby said, appearing in the doorway.
“Right there,” Ellie said, gesturing to the corner. “They couldn’t’ve been in a cabinet because they were in a box.”
Just then, the kettle started to whistle and Libby, still shaking her head, hurried back to the stove. She clicked off the burner, gave the pot of simmering sugar water a stir, and clicked that burner off, too. Then she poured the steaming water into the teapot, put the top on to let it steep, and set the timer for seven minutes.
“Constant Comment always reminds me of Christmas,” Ellie said, lifting the top to dunk the bag a few times, and breathing in the steam. “Mmm!”
Libby smiled. “That’s what my grandmother used to say.” She opened the marmalade, cut two thick slices of buttery pound cake, set them on the plates, and smoothed the sweet orange jam laden with curls of orange rind across the surface. “Here you go.”
Ellie set the plates on the table and scooted into her seat to wait. Finally, the egg timer went off and Libby brought the teapot over and poured the dark citrus tea into their cups. Ellie poured a little milk into hers and stirred it with a silver spoon. “Did you know a hummingbird’s heart weighs a fraction of an ounce and beats eight hundred times a minute?”
“Eight hundred times!” Libby exclaimed, sitting across from her. “How can that be? I’d think it would wear itself out.”
“And the heart of a blue whale weighs four hundred pounds and can beat as little as ten times a minute when it’s diving . . . and it can be heard two miles away!”
Libby chuckled. “How do you know this?”
“We’ve been studying the heart in science.” She blew softly on the surface of her tea. “A resting hummingbird also breathes two hundred fifty times per minute, and its wings beat an average of fifty times a second!”
Libby shook her head. “God has certainly made some amazing creatures.”
Ellie nodded. “Hummingbirds also migrate for hundreds of miles, and they travel alone. They return to the same feeders and gardens every year, so if you haven’t put your feeders out the last couple of years, they probably missed them.”
Libby took a sip of her tea. “How long do they live? Maybe they will come back this year.”
“Seven or eight years, but there was one hummingbird in Colorado that lived to be twelve!”
“How do they know that?”
“They caught it and put a band on its leg.”
“Do they mate for life?”
Ellie shook her head. “The male hummingbird goes to great lengths to attract a female, zipping around like a fighter pilot, but then he doesn’t do anything to help raise their babies. He’s a deadbeat dad just like the woodcock. The mother does everything. She lays two tiny eggs—smaller than jellybeans!” She took a bite of her cake. “You make the best pound cake, Gran . . . and the best marmalade. It’s so much better than those little plastic containers they have at the diner.”
Libby said, “Once you’ve had homemade jam, nothing else compares.”
Ellie licked her lips, savoring the sweetness. “Can I help you make jam this summer? You said you have a lot of kitchen secrets to share.”
“Absolutely. I need all the help I can get.”
Ellie smiled. “How old were you when you met Grandpa?”
Libby took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I was fifteen and he was seventeen.”
Ellie sipped her tea, trying to imagine her grandparents so young. “Do you have a picture?”
“Somewhere. Probably tucked away in a safe spot,” she said, chuckling.
Ellie laughed, too. “How did you meet?”
“He was doing some yard work for my grandparents—he had his own business. He’d just moved to town with his family because his father, your great-grandfather, was the new minister at the Baptist church.”
“Did he ask you on a date?”
“He did,” Libby said, nodding, “but my parents said I couldn’t date anyone until I was sixteen, so he had to wait, but that didn’t stop him from coming around.” She laughed. “He was tall and handsome and had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.”
“I remember his eyes,” Ellie said. “They were the color of the summer sky.”
“They were. And all the boys inherited them. I have brown eyes and I had dark hair,” Libby said, reaching up to touch her now-silver hair, “but Grandpa’s genes were stronger . . .”
“You mean more stubborn,” Ellie interrupted with a grin.
“Yes,” Libby agreed, chuckling, “and now, all the grandkids have blond hair and blue eyes, too. You included,” she added, smiling and wrapping her hands around her cup. “I miss him so much,” she said, her eyes growing misty.
“I miss him, too,” Ellie said softly, biting her lip uncertainly as a sad silence fell over the kitchen, the only sound coming from the old Seth Thomas wedding clock in the next room. “Gran, where did Grandpa ask you to marry him?”
“Oh, my goodness! That’s a long time ago,” Libby said, mustering a smile, “but I remember as if it was yesterday. We were at the fair, standing on a grassy knoll behind the tractor pull and your grandfather was acting as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I didn’t know what was wrong with him! It was a beautiful night, though, typical fair weather. The lights of the Ferris wheel and the carousel were spinning and swirling, people were laughing and squealing, and we could hear the bells and whistles of all the games, and your grandfather—who was usually as brown as a bean by late summer—was as pale as a ghost. I honestly thought he’d eaten a bad potato . . . and then, out of the blue, he turned to me, knelt down on one knee, and blurted out, ‘Elisabeth McCormack Jansen, will you marry me?’ No frilly words—just a straight-up question. I was so surprised I started to cry—which really worried him, but then I managed to stammer yes, and, a moment later, like spreading wildfire, the announcer calling out the results of the tractor pull declared: ‘Well, well, well! Jack Tennyson finally got up the courage to ask Libby Jansen to marry him! It’s about darn time!’ And everyone around us started cheering, which made all the color—and then some—return to your grandfather’s face.”
Ellie listened intently. “Wow, Grandma, I never heard that story before!”
“We had some good times, your grandfather and I.” She paused, thinking back and mused, “He always seemed so serious, but he was an old softie. We had some tough times, too, but we got through them. One day at a time, Libby, he used to say to me. One day at a time.”
“And that’s how you’re getting through now,” Ellie said gently.
Libby nodded. “It is,” she agreed, “and your company is helping more than you know.”
“You should go to the coffee shop tonight, Gran.”
“I should,” she said, squeezing her granddaughter’s hand. “We’ll see.”
21
“THE TECHNICIAN TOLD ME TO TIP MY HEAD ALL THE WAY BACK AND TO LIE STILL. Then he numbed the area, but it still hurt because he had a very hard time getting the needle into the damn thing . . . and then he had to do it two more times!”
Ames nodded sympathetically. “Did he say when you’ll get the results?”
“Maybe tomorrow, but probably next week since it’s already Thursday.”
Ames looked around the shop. “Where’s Cash? I brought chocolate cupcakes.”
“You did? Darn! He wanted to go home—said he didn’t want to hang around with a bunch of old ladies.” She rolled her eyes. “One thing that will never change is his mood swings.”
Ames chuckled. “Well, we’re all guilty of that, ole girl.” She took a sip of her wine. “Are you gonna let him learn to drive?”
“I don’t know,” Payton said with a sigh. “Let’s see how he does taking care of Ned.”
Ames reassured her, “I’m sure he’ll be fine—Ned loves Cash. If he can’t have me, Cash is the next best thing.” She looked at the clock—it was after six. “Where the heck is everyone?”
“Sue Metcalf and Holly Meissner both said they were running late because they worked at the Thrift Mart all day, but Kathy Hyland said she’d be on time, and Callie and Heather said they’d be early so I’m not sure where they are. I’m not sure about Lynda or Lynn, either, but they didn’t say they weren’t coming.” She picked up her glass and walked over to the couch. “I need to sit.”
Ames picked up her glass and sat next to her. “If you’re tired, you know, we don’t have to get together.”
“I know, but it keeps my mind off things.” Payton took a sip of wine and tried to relax. “What time is your flight on Saturday?”
“Early,” Ames replied, reaching for a cheese and cracker. “I think it’s at 6:15, so I should be there by 4:15.”
“I don’t think you have to get there two hours early anymore.”
“Well, since I’ve never flown, I’m gonna get there early.”
“That’s right! I forgot you’ve never flown.”
“Have you ever flown?”
“Not commercially, but Lonny and I went to an air show once, and they were giving rides in a little red-and-black Waco, and we went up.” She smiled wistfully. “He loved planes.”
“Do you miss him?” Ames asked.
Payton half nodded. “I do, but sometimes I think life is easier now. I don’t know.” She looked over at her friend and reached for her hand. “I have you and that fills my heart in a different way . . . a nice way.”
“I know what you mean,” Ames said, searching Payton’s eyes and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t seem to miss Frank as much. My life is definitely less stressful now.” She chuckled. “Who would’ve thunk it?”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“No, no. I’ll drive myself—you have to be here to open.”
“If you plan to be at the airport at 4:15, I can easily drive you and be back in time to open. In fact, we can leave Cash with Ned and he can take him for a walk once it’s light out. It would be so much easier for you than trying to figure out parking and where you’re going.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Payton replied.
“Okay. I also need Cash to come over so I can go over everything with him.”
“We can come over after softball practice tomorrow.”
“Perfect.”
Just then, the shop door swung open, bells chiming. “We’re here!” Sue and Holly called, bustling in with plates of food. “Pour us some wine!” Sue said, laughing. “What a day we’ve had! I think I went through twenty bags of clothes at the Thrift Mart! Oh, and I found this cute plate someone dropped off with a black Lab on it,” she said, holding it out to Ames. “Doesn’t it look like Ned?”
“It does look like Ned!” Ames said, giving her a hug. “Thank you!”
A few minutes later all the other ladies arrived, and soon, everyone was chatting cheerfully over glasses of wine or mugs of decaf. “We’ve raised enough money at the Thrift Mart this year to give out twenty $1,000 scholarships,” Sue announced. “That is a record!”
“Wow!” Payton exclaimed. “Everyone must’ve spent the last year cleaning out their closets!”
“They must’ve,” Sue said. “We had a lot of nice things, and people were looking for ways to save money, so we had a lot of new business.”
“That’s great,” Ames said, holding up her glass. “A toast to the Thrift Mart and all the ladies who work so hard to help our youngsters pay for college.”
“Hear! Hear!” everyone said, holding up their glasses.
They resumed chatting, uncovering plates of bruschetta, lemon bars, brownies, and even a lovely charcuterie that Sue had made on a board someone had donated to the Thrift Mart, unused and still in the box, and then the chime on the door jingled and they all looked up.
“Libby!” they cried in delight.
Libby smiled and closed the door. “It was such a nice night . . . and it’s even still light out . . . and since I had to run to the store, I thought I’d stop by and see what you all were up to.”
“We’re so glad you did,” Ames said, giving her a hug.
“Yes, we are,” Payton agreed, hugging her, too. “Come in and sit. We have all kinds of food,” she said, gesturing to the table while Sue pulled an empty chair up next to her. “What would you like to drink? We have wine, coffee, tea . . .” She looked over at Callie, who always drank tea. “Is the water still hot?”
Callie nodded. “I have a pot of Tazo Passion steeping right here,” she said, pointing to a ceramic cobalt blue teapot, “and there’s more than enough.”
Payton turned back to Libby. “How does passion tea sound?”
Libby laughed. “I’ve never had passion tea, but I’d love to try it.” She looked around the cozy shop—she had been inside the store when it was the Calico Cat, but she hadn’t stopped in after it became the Coffee Bean. “This is really cute,” she said, sitting down between Callie and Sue—who made her feel right at home. “It must be odd for you, Callie, to be in here now that it’s a coffee shop.”
“Actually, I’m used to it,” Callie said. “Payton changed it so much. If you remember, there used to be a wall right here,” she added, motioning to the center of the room.
“I do remember,” Libby said, “but I don’t remember the fireplace . . .”
“That’s because it was behind a fake wall,” Sue explained. “Payton and Cash found it, quite by accident.”
Libby nodded. “Well, it’s beautiful. I’ll have to bring Ellie in sometime for tea—she will love it.”
“How is Ellie . . . and all your handsome boys?” Sue asked. “I haven’t seen them in a coon’s age.”
“They’re fine,” Libby replied, smiling as Ames sat down next to them. “Gage is getting married this summer—he and his fiancée are having the ceremony in the big barn, which we haven’t used for milking in years, but they’ve been restoring it, getting it ready—replacing boards and painting.”
Sue nodded. “Barn weddings are all the rage right now.”
“I know,” Libby said. “It’s funny how things come into style. Back when we got married, if you had your wedding in a barn, people thought you couldn’t afford a nice venue, but nowadays, old farms charge a small fortune to host a wedding.”
“That’s so true,” Callie said, shaking her head as she poured tea into their cups. “People buy old farms and turn them into gold mines. I had my wedding reception at the firehouse. I should’ve known it wasn’t going to work out back then,” she mused regretfully.
Callie held out a saucer of lemon slices as Libby reached for her tea. She took one, squeezed it in, and then took a sip of the rich red tea, savoring the unusual flavor. “Mmm, this is good—it tastes so . . . tropical.”
Callie nodded. “It’s made with hibiscus, rose hips, orange peel, and lemongrass—it’s my favorite. It’s really good iced, too.”
“I’ll have to get some.”
“I was just talking to Quinn the other day,” Ames said, taking a sip of wine. “She asked how Chase was doing.”
“Oh, he’s fine. He’s actually getting—” Libby began, but then stopped midsentence. “He was just visiting last weekend. It was so nice to see him.”
“That Chase is one handsome boy,” Callie said, smiling. “I remember how close he and Quinn were when they were younger—they made such a cute couple. I always thought they’d end up together, but I guess not. Does he have a girlfriend?”
Libby shook her head. “Nope, no girls . . .” she answered, her throat tightening. She turned to Ames. “How is Quinn?”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Ames said, smiling gently at her old friend, knowing she’d changed the subject on purpose, and knowing Callie must not have attended Jack’s funeral—the funeral at which Chase had given such a heartfelt eulogy for his father, and in doing so, revealing truths about himself.
“I’m actually flying out to see her on Saturday.”
“You are?” Libby said in surprise. “How exciting! Are you going for a week?”
“I am.”
“Who’s taking care of Ned?” Callie asked.
“Cash is staying with him at the house.”
“Wait!” Sue whispered, eyeing her. “Payton is letting Cash house-sit?”
“She is,” Ames confirmed, laughing because they all knew how protective their friend was of her son, especially since he was usually at the shop with them on Thursday nights and they had all witnessed many of their mother-son interactions. “We made a deal. At first I was reluctant to leave Ned, so Cash volunteered to watch him. But Payton was hesitant about that, so I said I’d go visit Quinn if Cash could take care of Ned. And we both agreed!”
“Good!” Sue said. “She needs to let him spread his wings . . . and you definitely need to visit Quinn.”
Ames nodded. “I know. I’m really looking forward to it.” She looked at Libby and smiled. “We have to let the Lord stretch our faith sometimes, otherwise we miss out.”
