A Slice Of Heaven
Maddie frowned at her. “Just because he doesn’t intimidate you doesn’t mean he couldn’t get through to Annie. Unfortunately, though, he’d only be speculating about whether she has an eating disorder, the same way we are. We need some sort of proof so Dana Sue can confront her with real evidence Annie can’t possibly deny.”
“Such as?” Dana Sue asked, frustrated. “Isn’t the fact that she doesn’t touch any food I put in front of her evidence enough?”
“She’ll just claim she’s eating when you’re not around,” Maddie said. “She might even toss food down the garbage disposal to make you think she’s eaten it. I’m sure there are a lot of sneaky ways she can think of to reassure you, especially since you’re not always there at mealtime.”
“The scales don’t lie,” Dana Sue said. “Not that she’d let me get within ten feet of her when she’s weighing herself.”
Helen’s expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe we’re going about this all wrong. We’re focusing completely on Annie, which probably makes her feel as if she’s under a microscope.”
Maddie nodded slowly. “I think you have a point. Do you suppose Annie’s friends have eating disorders, as well?” she asked Dana Sue.
Dana Sue thought about that. She’d overheard some of them talking about dieting from time to time, but none were as painfully thin as Annie. To her they didn’t seem any more obsessed about their weight than Dana Sue or her friends were.
“Not that I’ve noticed,” she replied eventually. “Sarah Connors is around the house the most and she looks perfectly healthy. She and Annie talk about whatever fad diet is in the news, but Sarah eats the meals and snacks I fix for them. So do most of the others.”
“You’re sure of that?” Maddie asked.
“Well, I don’t stand over them every second and watch, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Maybe you should,” Helen countered.
“Are you crazy? Annie would flip out if I insisted on hanging out with her and her friends.”
“Goodness knows, we would have,” Maddie agreed. “But could you suggest a sleepover? Maybe order pizzas, have a ton of snacks available, and bake some brownies and see how they handle it? Just stick your head in from time to time to see who’s eating and who’s not?”
Dana Sue regarded her quizzically. “You want me to spy on them?”
“Okay, it sounds ridiculous,” Maddie admitted. “But it might give you some idea if this is just Annie’s problem or if she’s responding to peer pressure. And spying is a very underrated tool for parents. We need to know what’s going on with our kids. Period.”
“Okay, let’s say I buy that,” Dana Sue said. “What will I really find out? If the food’s gone, sure, then someone ate it. Or they flushed it down the toilet. Or they binged and purged. There’s more than one eating disorder, you know.”
“I agree with Maddie. I think it’s worth a shot,” Helen said. “What have you got to lose?”
Considering how little she knew about the eating habits of Annie’s friends, maybe it would give her some much-needed insight, Dana Sue decided. “I suppose it could work,” she conceded eventually. It might be a pretty flimsy lifeline, but she was desperate. She’d grab on to anything at this point.
Maddie beamed at her. “That’s the spirit. Now let’s talk about you.”
Dana Sue frowned. “No can do. I’ve got to go.”
“Not so fast,” Helen said, latching on to her arm until she sank back down in her seat. “What has Doc Marshall told you lately?”
“That I’m still borderline diabetic, that I need to exercise, watch what I eat and check my blood sugar on a regular basis,” she recited dutifully.
“And you’re doing all that?” Maddie pressed.
“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t look either of them in the eye.
“Really?” Helen’s skepticism was plain. “You must be using all this lovely, expensive exercise equipment we bought when I’m not around.” She glanced at Maddie. “Is that right? Is Dana Sue in here, say, midmorning? Midafternoon?”
“Maybe I’m sneaking in after the place is closed!” she snapped. “And I don’t know what gives you the right to question my exercise routine. Yours is no better.”
“Agreed,” Helen said at once. “Which is why I’ve come up with a suitable challenge for each of us.”
“This isn’t good,” Maddie mumbled.
Dana Sue grinned. “No kidding.”
“Okay, you two, I’m serious,” Helen said. “I think we should each write down our goals, whatever they are, and a plan for reaching them. Whichever one of us sticks to the plan and achieves the goal wins something spectacular, to be paid for by the other two.”
Maddie’s eyes immediately lit up. She’d always loved a competition. And she loved winning almost as much as Helen did. “Do we each get to pick out our own prize?”
Helen nodded. “Seems only fair, don’t you think?”
“Any price limit?” Dana Sue asked. “You’re the only one of us raking in big bucks.”
Helen grinned. “Which should be excellent motivation for each of you to want to beat me. However, I happen to know Sullivan’s is way ahead of your financial projections, and if this place continues at its current pace, your cries of ‘poor me’ won’t hold water. The Corner Spa is going to make us all rich. We deserve to splurge, and none of us is going to go bankrupt if we do. The profits from this place will see to that.” She turned to Maddie. “So, what’s your dream prize?”
“The sky’s really the limit?” she asked, looking thoughtful.
“Why not?” Helen said with a shrug. “The whole idea is to motivate ourselves to work at this. The promise of a new dress or a pair of shoes won’t cut it.”
“Then I think a trip to Hawaii for my first anniversary would be wonderful,” Maddie declared. “We probably couldn’t take it till spring break, but I’d be willing to wait for that.”
Helen made a note on her ever-present legal pad. “So, a first-class trip for two, or three counting the baby, since I can’t see your mother looking after an infant. She’s only recently adjusted to babysitting your other three and two of them are in their teens.”
“Yes, it would definitely be for three,” Maddie confirmed. “Cal would never agree to leave Jessica Lynn behind. He can barely make himself go out the door to work.”
Helen turned to Dana Sue. “How about you? Any dream vacations you’ve been denying yourself? A new car? A fancy new kitchen at home?”
“I spend all day in a fancy new kitchen at the restaurant,” Dana Sue said. “That’s enough stainless steel for me. And I think travel’s highly overrated.”
“Only because you got lost on our senior trip to Washington, D.C.,” Maddie teased. “No one’s ever let you live that down, and you haven’t left South Carolina since.”
“Okay, no kitchen, no travel,” Helen said. “What, then? Dream big.”
There was only one thing Dana Sue really wanted for herself. She wanted a man in her life, the right man, one who would respect her and treat her as if she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And, in the deepest, darkest corner of her heart, she wanted that man to be Ronnie Sullivan. Unfortunately, as much as Helen and Maddie loved her, they couldn’t give her that. And as furious as they were with him, it wasn’t a fantasy they’d encourage, anyway.
“I know what she wants,” Maddie said quietly.
“What?” Helen asked.
Maddie’s eyes locked with Dana Sue’s. “She wants Ronnie back.”
“I most certainly do not,” she sputtered indignantly, out of habit or maybe self-defense or embarrassment. How shameful was it to still want a man she’d made such a huge production out of throwing out? “How could you even say such a thing, Maddie? You know what that man did to me. You were there to pick up the pieces. Ronnie Sullivan is the last thing I want. If I never see his sorry face again, it will be too soon.”
Her two best friends regarded her with knowing expressions.
“Emphatic,” Helen said.
“Too emphatic?” Maddie asked.
They both grinned, thoroughly pleased with themselves.
Dana Sue scowled. “Well, all I have to say is that if Ronnie Sullivan is your idea of a spectacular prize, then one of you take him. I don’t want him. And the prospect of having him back certainly wouldn’t motivate me to do anything except order a large pizza every single night for the rest of my life.”
“Maybe she means it, after all,” Maddie said, though she sounded doubtful.
“Okay, then, a spiffy little convertible,” Helen suggested. “Red, maybe?”
Dana Sue grinned, relieved to have the topic of Ronnie behind her. “Now you’re talking my language. And it better have a top-of-the-line stereo system, plus that navigational gizmo.”
“That’s definitely important,” Maddie agreed, “since you have absolutely no sense of direction—thus the problems you had on the senior trip.”
“Stop reminding me of that,” Dana Sue retorted good-naturedly. “I get where I’m going.”
“Eventually,” Helen commented.
“Okay, smarty-pants, what about you?” Dana Sue asked her. “What’s your big prize?”
“A shopping spree,” Helen said without any hesitation.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Maddie asked wryly.
Helen scowled at her. “In Paris,” she added.
“All right!” Maddie said enthusiastically. “And we all get to go.”
Dana Sue laughed. “I’m liking this more and more. Now I almost don’t care if Helen wins.”
“No fair,” Helen said. “You have to promise to really try to win your own prize.”
“When does this contest start?” Maddie asked.
“As soon as we set our goals,” Helen said. “And they need to be meaningful goals, ambitious but attainable, okay? Shall we meet same time tomorrow to share them and decide how long we have to attain them?”
“I’m in,” Maddie said.
Dana Sue thought of the nifty little red sports car she’d seen the last time she and Annie had gone to Charleston. It had reminded her of a car Ronnie had had a long time ago, before they’d gotten married, long before things between them had gone so terribly wrong.
“Me, too,” she said at once.
Maybe she’d never be thin and willowy again, but perhaps she could recapture that carefree, confident feeling she’d had at eighteen, when everything was right with her world. And maybe if she felt better about herself, she could find a way to teach Annie how to do the same thing.
3
Any thought of goal-setting flew out the window that night when a grease fire started in the kitchen in the middle of the dinner rush.
As soon as Karen shrieked, “Fire!” Erik grabbed an extinguisher and started spraying. Meanwhile, Karen raced for a phone and dialed 911, even though the small blaze was already mostly contained.
Assured that Erik had things under control in the kitchen, Dana Sue headed into the dining room to soothe the rattled patrons, then went outside to the patio to explain to customers there and to await the arrival of the firemen, whom she hoped to prevent from dragging their hoses through the restaurant. Thanks to Erik’s quick reaction, there was no need for all those men and their equipment to plow through the place. In fact, by the time the volunteer firefighters arrived on the scene, there was little evidence of the blaze beyond frayed nerves, the lingering scent of smoke and the mess in the immediate vicinity of the greasy pan that had caught on fire.
Though she wouldn’t really be able to tell until morning, it appeared there’d been no smoke damage at all to the dining room, with its pale-peach walls and dark-green trim. A trip to the laundry would take care of any lingering scent in the tablecloths and napkins.
“It was my fault. I am so sorry,” Karen said for at least the tenth time after the fire chief had signed off and let them get back to business.
A struggling single mom in her midtwenties, Karen had tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She’d been a short-order cook at a local diner when Dana Sue discovered her. Seeing the waste of cooking talent, Dana Sue had offered to train her to handle the high-quality meals at Sullivan’s.
“I just turned away for a second,” Karen said. “I didn’t realize the flame was so high. Then I panicked. I’ve never done anything like this before, I swear it.”
“Hey, it’s nothing,” Dana Sue reassured her. “It’s happened to all of us, right, Erik? There was no real harm done.”
“I’ve never had a grease fire,” Erik said, “but I’ve burned my share of pies and cakes and smoked up the kitchen.”
“I’ll stay late and clean up,” Karen offered. “By the time you come in tomorrow, you won’t even know it happened.”
“We’ll all pitch in,” Dana Sue corrected. “We’re a team. Now let’s get back to work before all our customers stage a rebellion.”
“I need to do something,” Karen insisted. “Let me buy a glass of wine for every customer. It’ll take me a while to pay for them, but it’s the least I can do.”
“It’s already done,” Dana Sue told her, “and you’re not paying. The money comes out of our PR budget. Now, cook. We have ten backed-up orders for the grilled salmon, three for the pork chops and five for the fried catfish. Let’s go, people.”
The teamwork on which Dana Sue and her staff prided themselves kicked back into high gear. By nine o’clock all the customers had been fed and most were lingering over coffee and one of Erik’s desserts.
As Dana Sue made the rounds of the tables in the dining room, almost everyone commented on the delicious meal, but most were eager to congratulate her on the way her staff had dealt with the crisis.
“If I hadn’t heard the sirens and seen the firemen myself, I’d never have guessed you had a fire in the kitchen,” the mayor told her. “You handled yourself really well, Dana Sue.”
“Thank you,” she said, surprised. She and Howard Lewis hadn’t always seen eye to eye, particularly during the controversy over Maddie’s relationship with the much-younger Cal Maddox. Now that the two were respectably married, apparently the mayor had forgotten all about the old animosity. Either that or his desire for a good meal had overcome his disapproval of her association with Maddie and Cal.
“Well, of course she handled the crisis just fine,” Hamilton Rogers, chairman of the school board, said. “Those Sweet Magnolias always knew how to wriggle out of a tight spot.” He winked at Dana Sue. “It was a trait they certainly needed growing up.”
Dana Sue laughed. “We certainly did.”
“Just how many times did you and Ronnie get caught trying to play hooky?” Hamilton asked.
Dana Sue gave him her most innocent look. “Why, I don’t believe we ever got caught doing such a thing,” she said.
The school board chairman chuckled. “You can admit it now, Dana Sue. We won’t take away your diploma.”
She shook her head. “Still not talking.”
“Well, you definitely added a little excitement to our meal tonight,” the mayor said. “Things have been a little too quiet in Serenity lately.”
After the last of the customers was gone, Dana Sue joined her staff in the kitchen to do the cleanup. In two hours every surface was spotless, every inch of steel gleaming. Under even the best of circumstances, she was a fanatic about Sullivan’s kitchen being ready for a health department inspection. She’d been doubly exacting tonight. By the time she finally got home, she was exhausted.
Spotting a light on in Annie’s room, she tapped on the door. “Sweetie, you still awake?”
Annie glanced up from her computer and blinked, then looked at her clock. “Mom, where have you been? It’s late. And you smell like smoke again. What did you burn this time?”
“We had a grease fire tonight. It turned out to be nothing, but it created quite a mess in the kitchen.”
Annie’s eyes widened in alarm. “You’re okay? You’re sure? Why didn’t you call me? I would have come in to help you clean up.”
Dana Sue heard the worry in her daughter’s voice. Annie knew that any calamity at Sullivan’s could turn their world upside down yet again, so Dana Sue sought to reassure her. “I know you would have, but Erik, Karen and I were able to handle it. Besides, it’s a school night. I’m sure you had homework.”
“Some,” Annie agreed.
“Did you get something to eat?”
“Mom!” Annie protested, immediately on the defensive.
“It was just a question,” Dana Sue said, her own hackles rising. “You didn’t stop by the restaurant after school, so I wondered if you’d fixed something here.”
“No, Sarah and I went to Wharton’s with some other kids, just to hang out,” Annie told her in a calmer tone.
Dana Sue relaxed and grinned. She perched on the edge of the bed, hoping for the kind of girl talk she and Annie had once shared. “I remember doing that when I was your age. I’ll bet not a day went by that Maddie, Helen and I weren’t there, along with whomever we were dating at the time.”
“You were always with Dad, though, weren’t you?” Annie said, then hesitated, as if trying to gauge her mother’s reaction. When Dana Sue said nothing, she continued, “I mean, you guys were a couple when you were younger than me, right?”
Dana Sue nodded, lost for a second in the good memories. There had been a lot of them, but she’d buried most under the anger she’d needed just to keep going after Ronnie left.
“Dad was a hunk, huh?”
“He was,” Dana Sue admitted. “The first time I saw him, after he and his family moved here from North Carolina, I thought he was the sexiest boy I’d ever seen. He had danger written all over him, from his coal-black, too-long hair to his leather jacket.”
“Was that the only reason you liked him?” Annie asked. “Because he was so sexy-looking?”
“No, of course not,” Dana Sue said nobly. “He was sweet and smart and funny, too.”
Her daughter grinned. “I always thought it was because every other girl in school wanted him and you wanted to prove you could get him.”
Dana Sue laughed. “Did your father tell you that?”
“Nope. Maddie did. She said you were so single-minded when it came to getting Dad to notice you.”
“Yeah, I probably was,” Dana Sue confessed. “He was the first boy who wouldn’t even give me a second look. Naturally, that made him an irresistible challenge. And I knew he would make my folks a little crazy.” She leaned closer and confided, “He had a tattoo, you know.”
Annie giggled. “Maddie said he gave you a tough time on purpose, because if he’d made it easy, you’d have lost interest.”
Dana Sue thought back and tried to imagine losing interest in Ronnie. She couldn’t. Her feelings for him had been all-consuming for a long time. Not even nearly eighteen years of marriage had turned down the heat between them. An affair and two years of separation had only driven her to bury the attraction.
“I don’t know,” she told Annie. “I fell pretty hard, pretty fast.”
“And you never regretted it, did you?” her daughter asked. “I mean, not till the end, when he was with that other woman.”
Dana Sue didn’t like even thinking about the day she’d found out about Ronnie’s affair, much less reminiscing about it, but it was evident that Annie had been wanting to ask these questions for a long time. It was as if she’d been saving them up for the right moment. It was also evident she’d been turning to Maddie to find some of the answers she wanted. Dana Sue felt incredibly guilty that Annie hadn’t been able to ask her own mother for the details of her parents’ courtship.
“No, until the day he cheated on me—or the day I found out about it, anyway—I never regretted a single second with your dad.” She felt Annie deserved total honesty, not an answer colored by far more recent bitterness and resentment.
“So, he made, like, this one huge mistake and that was it?” Annie said, frowning. “None of the rest mattered anymore?”
“That’s the way I saw it,” Dana Sue said. “Some betrayals are just too huge.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
Dana Sue regarded her daughter with a puzzled look. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered how you’d feel if Dad came back to town. Could you forgive him now?”
It was the second time in one day that people Dana Sue loved had suggested it might be time for her to get over the past and move on, maybe even with that scum-of-the-earth, cheating ex of hers. She told herself that could only happen if she let her heart—or her hormones—overrule her head. Once Burned, Twice Shy was her motto.
“Sorry, baby. I know you’d like that, but it’s not going to happen,” she said. “When you’re a little older and have fallen in love, maybe you’ll understand why some things are simply unforgivable.”
Before Annie could press her on it, she stood up. “You need to get some sleep, young lady. So do I.”
She brushed a kiss across Annie’s forehead. “Lights out, okay?”
To her surprise, her daughter’s arms came around her waist. “I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, sweetie, I love you, too,” Dana Sue whispered, tears in her eyes. “And wherever he is, I know your dad loves you, as well. More than anything.”
“I know,” Annie said with a sniff. “Sometimes, I just wish he was here, you know?”
Dana Sue bit back a sigh. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I do know.”
There were times when she felt as if someone had carved out her heart and left her aching and empty inside. But that feeling paled compared to the anger she’d felt when she’d found out about his fling with some woman whose name he didn’t even remember. Weighing the two emotions and adding in a healthy dose of pride, she’d had only one choice. Maybe someday she would even get used to living with it.
The phone rang, waking Dana Sue from a sound sleep. She slapped at the alarm, blaming it for the offending noise. When the shrill ringing continued, she fumbled for the phone.
“Where are you?” Helen demanded. “It’s eight-thirty. Maddie and I have been waiting for half an hour.”
Dana Sue sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “Why?” she mumbled.
“Our challenge,” Helen reminded her. “Our goals.”
“I don’t have any, except to go back to sleep,” Dana Sue muttered, and hung up.
Of course, the phone immediately rang again. “Get up. We’re on our way over,” Helen said crisply. “You have ten minutes to get the coffee brewing. You might want to squeeze in a shower, too. You sound like you could use a cold one to kick-start your brain.”
This time when Dana Sue slammed the phone back in its cradle, she resigned herself to getting up. Helen had a key and wasn’t afraid to use it. Nor would she hesitate to toss Dana Sue into that icy shower herself. Bossy woman!
She didn’t bother with putting a robe on over her oversize Carolina Panthers T-shirt, one of the few things of Ronnie’s she’d kept. She’d told herself she’d simply forgotten to add it to the pile of his clothing she’d stuffed haphazardly into suitcases and tossed onto the front lawn, but the truth was she’d slept in it for a long time after he’d gone because his scent had clung to it. Many washings later that was no longer the case, but some sentiment she didn’t care to identify kept her wearing it every night.
She padded into the kitchen and put on the coffee, then went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. She’d barely made it back to the kitchen when the back door opened and Helen and Maddie strolled in.
“Shouldn’t you both be working?” Dana Sue inquired testily.
“We should be,” Helen agreed. “But we had an important appointment with our third partner at eight o’clock this morning. We thought finding out why you didn’t show up took precedence over work.” She wrinkled her nose. “And why does it smell like smoke in here?”
Dana Sue winced. “Actually, that’s me. We had a little grease fire in the kitchen at the restaurant. No big deal, but I was there late, cleaning up the mess. I haven’t had a chance to take a shower and wash my hair.”
“You had a fire?” Maddie looked dismayed. “Why didn’t you call us?”
“Before or after we called the fire department?” Dana Sue said. “Or perhaps you two have become volunteer firefighters without telling me.”
“Why didn’t you call us later?” Maddie asked. “We could have helped you clean up.”