Page 102 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

I hang up and stare at my phone, waiting for a response that probably won’t come.

Mrs. Hensley pats my hand. “That man’s bad news, honey. You need someone in your corner.”

“I know. But the person I need chose his investors over me.”

“Then it’s time to stop waiting for him to grow a backbone and start protecting yourself.”

She’s right. I’ve spent the last day hoping Grayson would call and explain why he threw us away the second his business partners questioned his judgment. But David just made it clear that I can’t afford to wait for a man who’s already proven he’ll sacrifice me to save himself.

I have grants to protect, a community to serve, and a development project to save. With or without Grayson Reed.

But heavens, I wish he were here.

“Michelle! Sweetheart, you’re too thin!”

My mother launches herself at me before I can even close the front door, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug that smells of lavender and home-baked bread.

“Mom, I’m fine. Really.”

“Fine? Look at you!” She holds me at arm’s length, blue eyes scanning my face with worried intensity. “When’s the last time you ate a real meal? Not coffee and those sad little muffins you sell.”

“I eat plenty?—”

“Nonsense. Come, sit. I made your favorites.” She drags me toward the kitchen, where the counters are covered with enough food to feed a small army. “Pot roast, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and that apple crisp you loved as a child.”

My father looks up from his newspaper, reading glasses perched on his nose. “Your mother’s been cooking since dawn. I told her you were coming for dinner, not preparing for the apocalypse.”

“Hush, Robert. Our daughter needs proper food.” Mom pushes me into a chair and immediately starts loading a plate. “Ever since that boy broke her heart, she’s been wasting away.”

“Grayson didn’t break my heart. He just... chose differently.”

Dad folds his paper. “Nice enough fellow. Helped me fix the porch steps last month without being asked. But he’s got no business running off when things get complicated.”

“It’s not that simple?—”

“It’s exactly that simple.” Mom plops mashed potatoes next to the pot roast. “A man who cares about you doesn’t disappear when his business gets messy. Eat.”

I take a bite, but my stomach churns from David’s visit. “Mom, this is enough food for five people.”

“You need your strength.” She examines my face critically. “And when’s the last time you slept? You have bags under your eyes that could carry groceries.”

“Gee, thanks. Really boosting my confidence here.”

“I’m being honest. Robert, tell her she looks exhausted.”

Dad glances up cautiously. “You look... contemplative?”

“Diplomatic,” I mutter.

“Smart man,” Mom says, then turns back to me. “Now, about David showing up today. Mrs. Hensley says he was asking questions about your grants.”

Mom sits beside me, immediately reaching to smooth my hair. “Men always think they can waltz back into your life when you’ve built something successful.”

“Speaking from experience?” Dad asks with raised eyebrows.

“Your father had to compete with three other suitors,” Mom announces proudly. “I was quite the catch.”

“Still are,” Dad says automatically, then looks alarmed at his own honesty.