Twelve Layers of Success and Shame

Standing on the back porch; and all I could see was dust. They could call it "The Fair City" if they wanted to, but this was anything but fair. Perth is the most irritating town this side of the Brazos. Everyone knows who should and should not be within its town limits, as well as within twenty miles. I came home after a failed marriage; actually, Gavin tried to have me killed, and college took all my money. I needed to take care of my family and start the next chapter of my life. Trust me, this is not how I thought I would be spending my prime, but I will make it work.

The one thing this quaint little town does not have is a bookstore or coffee shop. Yes, you can get books at the antique store or online, and yes, you can get coffee at the diner, but you can't get them together. I researched everything; rental properties, merchandise, supplies, vendors, and surveyed people in town to make the best possible business plan I could.

It took a month and a half to get the courage to ask the bank for the loan, and my appointment was at 10:00. Perth State Bank has a reputation for not helping small businesses.

I paced across the living room for two hours practicing what I would say; I changed my clothes twenty times, literally, every professional piece of attire I brought with me, and I spilled coffee on myself twice. I finally landed on a dark grey hi-low ruffle back blazer, a black cami, skinny black capris, black wrap-around wedges, and a simple choker. I carried my attache containing what I thought was the perfect plan and an emergency brown paper bag just in case I hyperventilated.

The loan officer turned out to be Ransom McLeod, my high school class valedictorian and star quarterback. He towered over me by almost afoot. His black stetson hung on the rack behind his desk. Even in this Texas summer heat, he wore a long-sleeved button-up white dress shirt with dark wash Wrangler bootcut jeans and Tecovas Cartwright boots. His muscles might have been hidden, but he still had the attitude behind those ice-blue eyes and shaved head.

We talked for over an hour about high school and how the town had changed since I left. I gave my best sales pitch as well, laughed, and talked about our families. Then he went with my loan application asking, "What are you calling your little store?"

"Tailyour Stories and Coffee Shoppe." I laughed.

"Let me see what I can do." almost running away.

Ransom came back to his desk sooner than I thought he should. He carried the freshly signed papers as if he just threw them in the air without a care in the world.

"Congratulations! Kallie, I'll be honest. I have never seen the board approve a loan so fast.

"I hope to see you and your family there for the grand opening."

I walked out of the bank and up Main street for two blocks just past the courthouse on the square to Sarah's Bakery. I loved Sarah Baker. We grew up together and have been best friends since birth. She even lived with my mother and me after her grandmother passed away. I didn't call her or let her know what had happened with Gavin. I walked in expecting a happy reunion. That wasn't going to take place today.

"Kalliope Tailyour Sawyer, who do you think you are? You have been back in town for two months hiding from me, not taking my calls, making me sneak around with your mother to get any information about you. Now you come in here all gussied up like you're better than the rest of us."

"Actually, I am no longer a Sawyer, and you would know that if, in fact, you have been sneaking around with my mother. And since you know so much already, I just spoke with Ransom at the bank. I got the loan for the bookstore."

Sarah squealed. "You know I can't stay mad at you, but I am very hurt that you didn't come to me sooner. Tell me everything!"

"Let me buy something first. What do you recommend?"

"Do you still like chocolate?'

"You know it."

"Have a seat. I'll bring it to you."

The restaurant part of the bakery was decorated rustic as if my grandmother went in and decorated her kitchen but added twenty tables. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling. Cabinets with sets of dishes and buffets made makeshift walls. It felt like home. In fact, it was. I sat at the table that my mother and I donated when Sarah opened the bakery. It was mine.

A long white platter held what I thought was a joke, but it wasn't. Twelve layers of decadent chocolate cake with dark chocolate fudge frosting between each layer. The side was garnished with chocolate curls. The top had a mixture of rings, brownie crumbles, and chocolate chips. Sarah brought me a side of the cake. She also got two forks. I was so thankful because I would not be able to eat that by myself.

"So why didn't you tell me what was going on?" Sarah could not keep her mouth shut to anyone. She acted sincerely, but I know she just wanted to know things for town gossip.

"I was too embarrassed. I hung my head, hiding the tears. Do you have any clue how humiliated I was?"

"You're my best friend! I care about you. This is a lot for anyone to go through alone."

"I have my mom."

"Yeah, and you barely call her."

"Well, you seem to have no problem talking to her or anyone else in town, do you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you know." At this point, everyone in the bakery was staring at us. I even caught a glimpse of people looking through the window at us. I didn't realize we were inches from each other's faces and yelling so all could hear. "I should leave." I picked up the plate, took it to the counter, and proceeded to get my own to-go container. I was not letting that cake go to waste over someone wanting to be petty.

Just as luck would have it, my mother was in the crowd that heard our little tiff. "Hi, Sarah." I heard her voice ring behind me.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Tailyour." The sweetness almost made me sick to my stomach. How fake can you be?

"Why are you trying to be so formal in front of Kallie all of a sudden? Come to dinner tonight, and we'll figure all of this out."

I stormed out of the bakery. They are crazy if they think I am having any part of their drama. I nearly broke a heel walking on the broken pieces of sidewalk the two blocks to my new shop. Right in the middle of downtown sits my new space nestled between McAlister's Deli and Stuart & McIntosh Hardware. I will always have food nearby and a man ready to help me with repairs. Maybe I can calm down enough before dinner.

A strange man that looked vaguely familiar was sitting on the bench in front of the hardware store when approached. He gave me a wicked grin, and I immediately knew that face. "Dominic Clemens? What are you doing here?" I haven't seen Dom since I married Gavin.

"Nathaniel Hale gave me a ring last week and told me about your situation." He was a matter of fact.

"How do you know Nate?" This was getting too weird too fast for me. I already had my phone in my hand, dialing 911.

"I thought Nathaniel told you he was going to call me? He said it would be okay for me to contact you."

I gave him a questioning look. He pulled something out of his pocket. A business card.

Dominic Clemens, Ph.D. Curator

Houston Museum of Natural Science

"Nate said Dr. Clemens would be getting in touch with me, but I didn't realize that it would be you! I was so excited to be able to work with Dom. When did you get your Ph.D.?"

"I graduated about a year and a half after you left for New York."

"Why didn't you stay in touch after the wedding?"

"I knew Gavin was getting tangled up in things he had no business doing. When Nate called the museum, I took the case. I flew to South Carolina and collected the book from him. I hope you don't mind?" He realized this would be a sensitive topic that shouldn't be talked about in the street. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? We can discuss what should be done."

"I'm sorry, Dom. While I agree I need to figure out my next steps regarding the book, I couldn't back out on my mother. If I thought things were bad now, just watch and see what would happen if I didn't show up for dinner. I have plans with my mom and Sarah. And as much as I would love to get out of it, I better not."

"I completely understand. Lunch tomorrow? I'll pick you up at 11:00."

"That's a little early for lunch, isn't it?" not that I really cared.

"We are going out of town for this conversation."