Page 9 of The Lake House (Southern Charm #2)

Chapter Nine

The next day, Rita felt up to visiting the café.

There were some accounts she wanted to go over, so she snuck through the back entrance and settled into her office after the lunch crowd had died down.

The Honeysuckle Café was thriving with a full breakfast and lunch service.

They’d added a dinner menu about five years earlier, and it was building momentum as well.

Every now and then, they held a party or special event to boost the numbers, and it seemed as though the locals were finally ready to embrace the café as a dinner option.

There was a stack of envelopes on Rita’s desk—most were bills she had to pay. She gradually sifted through the pile, reading each one in turn and either adding it to the trash can, the bills pile, or the deal-with-later pile.

An hour later, she was exhausted and ready to go home, but that was when Cathy found her. She barged into the office with a frown, then drew up short when she saw Rita sitting there.

“Oh…Rita. I didn’t know you were in here. I’m looking for tape.”

“What kind of tape?”

“Something to hold the leg of a chair together.”

“How about duct tape?”

“That might do it. Why are you here?”

Rita laughed. “That’s a nice hello.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m paying some bills. They never stop, unfortunately. How’re y’all doin’ today?”

Cathy sat in the chair across from Rita’s desk, its back pushed up against the wall because the office was tiny. There was barely enough room for the two of them, a desk, a computer and a filing cabinet.

“It’s been busy this mornin'. I told y’all we shouldn’t have added the French toast to the breakfast menu. We had so many orders that we ran out, and then Russ had to make more, which put us behind…”

Rita laughed. “That’s a good thing, honey. That’s what we want—people linin’ up for our French toast.”

Cathy pouted. “It put a lot of pressure on us. I was waitin’ tables, washing dishes, running around like the place was on fire.”

Rita shook her head slowly. “Lord have mercy! Sounds like you had a normal day working at a busy café, honey. That’s how it is ‘round here.”

“You don’t have to be patronisin’.” Cathy crossed her arms. “You always do that. So smug. One day, you’ll see what it’s like…”

“What does that mean?” Rita’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. It doesn’t mean anythin’. Only I wish you wouldn’t treat me like a child.” Her lips protruded forwards, and Rita had to resist the urge to point out that her current behaviour was a little childish. She didn’t want to provoke her cousin further. She wanted a detente, peace.

“I’m sorry, honey. I never mean to do that.”

Cathy’s blue eyes filled with tears, and she tucked a loose strand of grey-blonde hair behind one ear. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”

“Of course I don’t.” Rita drew a slow breath and released it to calm her nerves. The stress of everything lately had her wound up and spinning like a top. Sometimes it helped her to remember that others were going through their own things as well. “What’s happenin’, hon?”

Cathy pulled a tissue from her sleeve and dabbed her heavily made-up eyes with it. “You know Gareth and I have been going through some hard times.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Well, he moved out a few months ago. Right before I came to see you the first time. I didn’t want to say anythin’, because it’s a private matter, but we’re separated.” Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she dabbed them away again.

Rita’s heart filled with compassion for her difficult and headstrong cousin. “That’s a hard thing you’re going through.”

“It’s been horrible. And it’s exactly why I came to the café to see you.

I wanted to be part of something. To have a connection to my parents.

They’re gone now, but I miss them every day.

Never more so than when Gareth walked out on me.

I wanted to talk to them so bad…” She burst into tears, pressing the tissue to her face and sobbing violently into it.

Rita got up and lumbered around the desk to pat her on the back. It was awkward, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to comfort her cousin, who usually bristled at any signs of affection.

After a while, Cathy’s tears calmed. Rita went back to her seat and pulled the old photographs she’d been looking at a few days earlier from her desk drawer. She set them on the desk and pushed them across to Cathy.

“Take a look at these.”

There were photographs of Cathy’s parents along with Rita’s.

The kids were there too, with a tiny Cathy clinging to her mother’s leg and grinning wide.

It looked as though both Rita and Cathy had something dark around their mouths in another photograph—possibly ice cream or maybe chocolate.

It was hard to say, but both looked particularly pleased with themselves in the image.

Cathy flipped through the photographs. She smiled, then she laughed, and finally she set them down and met Rita’s gaze.

“Thanks for that. It was exactly what I needed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” Rita asked.

Cathy blinked back tears. “We have a… complicated relationship, you and I.”

“You can say that again.” Rita laughed. “But I hope you know you can always talk to me. About anything, really. I’m here for you.”

“I know what you think of me. I can see it in your eyes. You think I’m a joke.” Cathy sniffled.

“I don’t think you’re a joke. We don’t always get along, it’s true. And sometimes you frustrate me—I’ll be the first to admit to that. But I still care about you. You’re my cousin. We grew up runnin’ around this place together. We caused a lot of mischief for our parents, the two of us.”

“I remember.” Cathy smiled. “Do you recall that one summer day when we filled water balloons and threw them at our dads when they came out of the café into the courtyard? They were so mad.”

Rita laughed. “I thought they were going to tan our hides. But then they grabbed the ones that didn’t burst and threw them right back at us.”

“That was a good day.” Cathy wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I miss it — all of it.”

“Me too.” Rita sighed. “But things will get better. I’m sure they will.”

“And for you too,” Cathy replied.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. How are you doin' here? Is the café working out for you?”

Cathy straightened in her chair. “Amanda is difficult…”

“She’s amazing at what she does. She doesn’t much like change, but she’s doing pretty well, considering.”

“She doesn’t like being told what to do. That’s what it is.”

“Well, she’s the manager around here, so for now, you should probably listen to her rather than coming up with stuff for her to do.”

“But I’m…”

“You’re a guest here, Cathy. I’m the owner, Amanda is the manager, and you’re here at my request to see how you get along. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s how it has to be for now. We can’t have our staff getting torn apart because you’re throwin' your weight around.”

“I’m not doing that.” She sniffed.

“I’m only askin’ you to think before you speak. You’re new to the café business. Amanda has far more experience. She knows what she’s doing. Let her lead, and you’ll find your way.”

She was pouting. “Is that ever going to change? Will you ever see me as more than a guest around here?”

Rita leaned forward. “It’s up to you. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that I love this café.

It’s a part of me, and I care what happens to it.

I’ve invited you to be here, but I need to see that you feel the same way about it, that you care what happens to it, and that includes the staff. ”

“I do care.”

“Then show me.”