Gator fan as he calculated the cost of another service call.
“I’ll go up to the second floor and out to the barn and root around to see if there’s anything else we could use,” Kate suggested and pushed aside some unruly strands of dark blonde hair escaping from her ponytail and tickling her face.
Melanie nodded. “Check out all those old cookbooks in the second floor storage room. They would make a terrific display on a shelf accessible to the public. I think there’s an original Fannie Farmer Cookbook from the 1800s up there, and one published before World War II. Be sure to check out the one by Amy Vanderbilt with sketches by Andy Warhol. Any one of them might be a treasure to entice people to stop and have a cup of our java.”
“Hey, maybe we could use the cookbooks in an advertising campaign.” Kate’s expression grew serious and she stared into space. “We could showcase a cookie, dessert, or pastry recipe each week from an old cookbook and have it on display for the public to stop in and leaf through.”
“It’s worth a try.” Melanie’s face brightened. “No, it’s really a brilliant idea, especially if we find some great old-fashioned strawberry recipes to make this month. Our last quarter sales indicated we’re soaring in the black. Why not divert some of our profits into advertising, especially with the town’s Valentine’s Day Festival right around the corner?” Her keen gaze found Kate’s. “Only if we don’t spend all of our profits on plumbing services.” She smothered a laugh.
“Okay, okay,” Kate conceded. “I’ll try to be more careful.” She picked up a small jelly jar half-full of candy hearts sitting on the drain board and shook it gently.
“What’s with the jar of candy hearts?” Melanie raised an eyebrow and reached for it, but Kate held it protectively against her chest.
She had found it among all the other jars in the pantry. It had been pushed to the back of the shelf just as she had pushed the past ten years into the back of her mind. But now the dusty little jar with its colorful hearts and witty endearing sayings tugged at her memory and heart strings, begging her to remember the past. Despite the intervening years, Kate had never eradicated Tappe Vanderberg, her best and long-time childhood friend and later her high school boyfriend, from her thoughts. They had drifted apart when both departed for college. Through the town grapevine, Kate had heard he married a girl he had met in the Netherlands on a job assignment, but he was now divorced.
“I can’t believe your aunt saved a bottle of stale candy hearts.”
“Even though a spinster, Aunt Fay was a romantic.” Kate twisted the jar, trying to read the sayings through the grimy glass. With her thumb, she rubbed the side of the jar to make a miniature round window appear and then shook the jar. A pink Sweet Kiss candy heart, one of her favorites, popped into the cleared spot. A melancholy smile flitted across her face as she recalled the many times when she and Tappe traded those sweet kisses in the front seat of his pickup before he dropped her off at home from a date.
“She was also one terrific lady. Everyone loved and respected her.” Melanie pursed her lips. “Oh, by the way, when I stopped at the post office yesterday, Eva May Poole was working the window. She said Tappe had stopped in a couple of days ago.”
“Here? In Little Heron Shores?”
Melanie nodded.
“To stay?” Kate’s heart did a little happy dance in her chest.
Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know, but Eva May says the Dutchman is hotter looking than when he was in high school—if that’s possible. He was one handsome hunk back then. She hinted he’s here to stay.”
“Do you think Eva May has her story straight?”
“Eva May?” Melanie snickered. “The Eva May who’s living proof evolution can go in reverse?”
“You have a valid point.” Laughing, Kate headed for the stairs, though secretly a part of her
“I’ll go up to the second floor and out to the barn and root around to see if there’s anything else we could use,” Kate suggested and pushed aside some unruly strands of dark blonde hair escaping from her ponytail and tickling her face.
Melanie nodded. “Check out all those old cookbooks in the second floor storage room. They would make a terrific display on a shelf accessible to the public. I think there’s an original Fannie Farmer Cookbook from the 1800s up there, and one published before World War II. Be sure to check out the one by Amy Vanderbilt with sketches by Andy Warhol. Any one of them might be a treasure to entice people to stop and have a cup of our java.”
“Hey, maybe we could use the cookbooks in an advertising campaign.” Kate’s expression grew serious and she stared into space. “We could showcase a cookie, dessert, or pastry recipe each week from an old cookbook and have it on display for the public to stop in and leaf through.”
“It’s worth a try.” Melanie’s face brightened. “No, it’s really a brilliant idea, especially if we find some great old-fashioned strawberry recipes to make this month. Our last quarter sales indicated we’re soaring in the black. Why not divert some of our profits into advertising, especially with the town’s Valentine’s Day Festival right around the corner?” Her keen gaze found Kate’s. “Only if we don’t spend all of our profits on plumbing services.” She smothered a laugh.
“Okay, okay,” Kate conceded. “I’ll try to be more careful.” She picked up a small jelly jar half-full of candy hearts sitting on the drain board and shook it gently.
“What’s with the jar of candy hearts?” Melanie raised an eyebrow and reached for it, but Kate held it protectively against her chest.
She had found it among all the other jars in the pantry. It had been pushed to the back of the shelf just as she had pushed the past ten years into the back of her mind. But now the dusty little jar with its colorful hearts and witty endearing sayings tugged at her memory and heart strings, begging her to remember the past. Despite the intervening years, Kate had never eradicated Tappe Vanderberg, her best and long-time childhood friend and later her high school boyfriend, from her thoughts. They had drifted apart when both departed for college. Through the town grapevine, Kate had heard he married a girl he had met in the Netherlands on a job assignment, but he was now divorced.
“I can’t believe your aunt saved a bottle of stale candy hearts.”
“Even though a spinster, Aunt Fay was a romantic.” Kate twisted the jar, trying to read the sayings through the grimy glass. With her thumb, she rubbed the side of the jar to make a miniature round window appear and then shook the jar. A pink Sweet Kiss candy heart, one of her favorites, popped into the cleared spot. A melancholy smile flitted across her face as she recalled the many times when she and Tappe traded those sweet kisses in the front seat of his pickup before he dropped her off at home from a date.
“She was also one terrific lady. Everyone loved and respected her.” Melanie pursed her lips. “Oh, by the way, when I stopped at the post office yesterday, Eva May Poole was working the window. She said Tappe had stopped in a couple of days ago.”
“Here? In Little Heron Shores?”
Melanie nodded.
“To stay?” Kate’s heart did a little happy dance in her chest.
Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know, but Eva May says the Dutchman is hotter looking than when he was in high school—if that’s possible. He was one handsome hunk back then. She hinted he’s here to stay.”
“Do you think Eva May has her story straight?”
“Eva May?” Melanie snickered. “The Eva May who’s living proof evolution can go in reverse?”
“You have a valid point.” Laughing, Kate headed for the stairs, though secretly a part of her
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