Page 129 of Cooking Up My Comeback
Crew nods, but his lip is trembling. “Why does he always have to ruin everything good?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. But he can’t ruin this. Not really. Survey this.”
Crew glances at the dining room full of people who chose to stay, who chose to support them.
“They’re all here for us?” he asks.
“That’s right,” Amber confirms. “Well,” she says loudly enough for everyone to hear, “who’s ready for dessert? Tally’s chocolate lava cakes are getting rave reviews, and her lemon tart just made Mrs. Denton cry happy tears.”
The crowd cheers again, and our grand opening is back on track. Better than before, actually. We’ve stood up to the town bully, and everyone witnessed it. Plus, we provided entertainment with dinner. That’s value-added service right there.
As the evening winds down and the last customers trickle out, all raving about the food and especially Tally’s desserts, I find Amber and Crew in the kitchen. She has her arm around him while he helps organize the dessert plates, both of them finally breathing normally. Tally’s at her station, carefully packing up the leftover pastries with the focused precision of someone who takes her craft seriously.
“So,” I say, joining them, “that went well.”
Crew studies me with serious eyes. “Do you think Dad will come back and try to cause more problems?”
“I don’t know, buddy,” I answer honestly. “But if he does, we’ll handle it together. All of us.”
“Even if he says mean stuff about Mom again?”
“Especially then.”
Amber pulls him closer. “Crew, I need you to know that nothing your dad said tonight was true. And more importantly, none of this is your fault. Okay?”
He nods, but he’s still processing everything that happened.
“We stood up for ourselves,” I continue. “In front of the whole town. And they chose us.”
“They did, didn’t they?” Amber says.
I move closer so I can see her face. “Amber, you were incredible tonight. You didn’t back down or let him intimidate you. You chose to fight.”
“We chose to fight,” she corrects. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Yes, you could have. But you didn’t have to.”
She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me, and it tastes of victory and partnership and the promise of everything we’re going to build together.
“So what happens next?” she asks when we break apart.
“Tomorrow, we deal with whatever legal nonsense Chad throws at us. And next week, we keep building on tonight’s success.”
“Did you see how many people asked for our card?” Amber says, eyes bright. “And that food blogger from Wilmington? She took notes the entire time. Said she’s never had fish prepared quite like Grandma Rose’s recipe.”
Crew tugs on my shirt. “Brett? Do you think more people will want to come eat here now that we showed Dad we’re not scared?”
“I bet they will, buddy. You did a great job explaining those fishing displays to everyone.”
His face lights up—the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him since his father walked in tonight.
“And they’ll definitely want to feature Tally’s desserts,” Amber adds, glancing over at her daughter with obvious pride. “Three people tonight asked if we cater weddings just because of her chocolate work.”
“Mom,” Tally says without looking up from her pastry cleanup, “you’re being embarrassing.”
“I’m being accurate. Your birthday dessert menu last month was basically a preview of tonight’s success.”
It’s true. Tally turned eighteen in early February, and instead of asking for a party, she’d requested to design and execute the entire dessert course for a family dinner. The results had been so impressive that Amber immediately offered her the pastry chef position.
