Wildflowers (27 page)

Leah closed the refrigerator and walked over to Genevieve. She put her arm around Genevieve’s shoulder and said, “I’m sure that this time he’ll be dazzled.”

“Mom?” Anna stepped out of the restroom in a different outfit. Her two braids had turned into two high pigtails with the daisies now stuck into the ponytail holders at the crown of her head. Instead of shorts, she had on a short skirt, sandals, and a long-sleeved black sweater with beaded fringe along the bottom.

Leah, Mallory, and Anna all paused to take in the outfit. It wasn’t the best combination Genevieve had ever seen, but she wasn’t worried. They had an hour and fifty-two minutes before they opened their front door. Anna would most likely change outfits at least once before then.

“Mom,” Anna said, “do you want me to put the flowers in the vases now and put a vase on each table?”

“Yes, please.”

The two blue vases that Genevieve had found weeks ago on the chair under the cedar tree out back had been, as Leah had suspected, gifts from Ida. Genevieve liked the cobalt blue so much that she had Lauren hunt up another dozen vases. Some were bright yellow, some green, some red. They were all different shapes, but all were made of dense glass. Today the flowers were a mixture of the end-of-the-season wildflowers that Leah had collected all over town the day before from generous supporters of the Wildflower Café.

Anna went to work, doing what she did best, making little bits of beauty. Mallory helped Genevieve and Leah put the frosting on the dessert of the day, Meri’s Midnight Madness Chocolate Cake. They also were serving Shelly’s Snickerdoodles all day long.

“When did you want to pop the chicken in the oven?” Leah asked.

Genevieve had made up eight pans of Alissa’s Ritzy Chicken the night before and had them all waiting in the refrigerator. Her beautiful new oven could take four of the large pans at a time. “I’m glad you asked. We should get the first four in now because it will be a little late for breakfast
when we open. Some people might be ready for more substantial food by then.”

“Are you opening the Dandelion Corner at nine o’clock, too?” Mallory asked.

“No, we’re going to open at eight-thirty,” Leah said. “How would you like to be the one to help me cut the ribbon?”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Seth is over there now getting the cash register stocked.”

Genevieve set the oven to preheat for the chicken and pulled out a pot for Jessica’s Broccoli Cheese soup. “How do you think your new assistant is going to work out?”

“Tracy is a gem. She’s going to be great. She loves kids, and now that her oldest son just started middle school, she was eager to find a part-time job. It’s ideal for both of us.”

Leah had gotten the idea in her head that she could run the Dandelion Corner as well as wait on customers at the café during the breakfast and lunch rushes. She claimed that her vision for the Dandelion Corner was more along the lines of starting up the store. Her heart was really more with the older folks who would be coming to the café and not the children’s shop.

After a long discussion a week ago, Leah and Genevieve had agreed that things could go back to the way they were before the fire as long as Leah hired someone to work at the Dandelion, kept a timecard for her work at the café, and allowed Genevieve to pay her for the hours she waited tables. It was an unusual setup, but it seemed like the easiest way for
everyone to get what was best all around.

“To be honest with you,” Leah said, “I think everything about our new arrangement has God’s fingerprints all over it.”

“I do, too,” Genevieve said. “And it certainly has a mass of children’s footprints all over it.”

Leah didn’t appear to catch Genevieve’s meaning. Genevieve nodded toward the dining area. She was referring to the outlining Lauren had done of the children’s feet at their blessing party. All the footprints and verses were now secretly tucked under a fabulous new flooring. They would remain hidden there until someday, when someone else with a dream would own this building and transform it into whatever he or she envisioned.

Genevieve whispered a thank-you to God for the hundredth time. She still couldn’t believe her dream was coming true. In little more than an hour they would unlock the front door, and the Wildflower Café would be reborn.

“Mom,” Anna called from the dining room, “what do you think? Come see.”

Genevieve walked through the alcove opening to the dining room that was angled at a slant with the new bathroom door so that diners couldn’t see into the kitchen. She stepped into the beautiful dining area and felt her heart swell with thanks all over again. To her right was the new wall, partially covered with bookshelves stacked with a variety of books, all available for customers to borrow and enjoy while at the café. Two of Anna’s hand-painted, framed pictures hung on the wall next to the charming Dutch door that was open on top at the moment, revealing Seth as he stood
inside the Dandelion, frantically blowing up balloons with a helium tank.

“Would you like some help?” Genevieve asked him.

“Sure,” Seth said. “Anybody over there available?”

“I’ll help,” Anna said. With a wave of her hand toward Genevieve she added, “Tell me what you think of the vases. Too many flowers in them? Or do you like them?”

“I love them,” Genevieve said quickly. “Just the way they are. You did a fantastic job.”

Anna opened the Dutch door, looking like a rather tall fairytale character entering a fanciful cottage.

Genevieve took in another sweeping view of the café. The new tables were light oak with a thick-coated sheen on the top, making them safe from spills. At each table the colorful glass vases held their portion of wildflowers. They were all different yet lovely. They reminded Genevieve of her variety of friends in this quaint corner of the globe. All the women in Glenbrooke were different yet lovely in their own way. All of them caught the light, the way the glass vases did. All of them cast a glimmering beauty wherever they went.

Out the front windows, Genevieve could see the warm, autumn-toned mums that lined the window flowerboxes along with a few fat, orange pumpkins perched in the corners for added color.

In front of the flowerboxes sat the card table Anna and Alissa had set up the night before as their face-painting attraction. When Genevieve and the girls had strolled down Main Street last night, she was surprised to see the variety of booths. The people of Glenbrooke had come out in full force
to support Glenbrooke Days and had responded generously when Leah asked them to be involved. The booths offered everything from Genevieve’s fudge to handmade log cabin birdhouses.

The new booths inside the café offered comfy bench seats and excellent views of the parade and all the other happenings that would monopolize Main Street today. The corner booth on the far right side, which Leah and Genevieve had come to call “the prayer closet,” already had been the quiet corner for conversations, last-minute planning, and, of course, the sacred memories of Steven’s prayer.

The café’s original front door remained intact in the far left corner next to the front windows. However, Mack from the hardware store had taken it down, sanded it, and refinished it two weeks ago. It was ready to open and close a hundred thousand times without registering a single complaint.

The far left wall, which was the first thing visitors saw when they walked through the café’s door, was the fireplace. Above the mantle, Genevieve had hung a mosaic picture she was especially proud of. Anna had helped her design and set a single flower in plaster of Paris. The flower was made from bits of the first wildflower dish that Gordon had broken the night of the blessing party.

Unable to throw it away that night, Genevieve had saved it in a box under the sink. A few days later, when the kitchen was finished, she found it and remembered how one of the women in her Bible study had said that some things need to be broken first before they can be used best.

This particular broken wildflower plate was definitely being used best. It was set apart from all the other dishes that would be used everyday at the tables. This broken plate was now the crowning touch above the fireplace.

Beside the mosaic picture was a small, framed antique greeting card that Jessica had given Genevieve two days ago as an early café warming present. The sentiment on the picture, which had come from Jessica’s kitchen, matched the broken wildflower plate mosaic perfectly.

A single wildflower given with love

Is better than

A dozen perfect roses

Given with indifference.

Genevieve liked the fireplace. She liked the way the grouping around it had turned out. Two high-backed, cozy chairs faced each other on either side of the hearth, and a love seat faced the flame. Between the love seat and the fireplace sat a long, low table on which Anna had placed the largest of the original blue vases brimming with wildflowers. It looked exactly as Genevieve had envisioned it. Warm. Inviting. Rich. And deliciously comfortable.

She thought of the verse she had written on the welcome mat by the front door. “Jesus saith unto them, ‘Come and dine.’ ”

Yes, Lord Jesus, that’s exactly what I want to happen here. I want people—Your people—to always know that they can come to You and come to this café, and dine with You and with Your
people. I completely surrender this café to You, just as I have completely surrendered my life to You. Fill it with light, just as You did my life. Make it shine for You
.

“Gena,” Leah called from the kitchen, “we have a slight problem.”

Genevieve trotted back in the kitchen and saw Mallory with a ring of chocolate frosting around her mouth.

“I haven’t started the soup yet,” Leah said. “But it’s after eight already, and I need to help Seth. I told Mallory she could come help me. Sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”

“That’s okay. Mallory, honey, wash your face. I’ll take it from here, Leah. You’ve done more than enough. Thank you. I’ll get all this going, and then I’ll step over to watch you cut the ribbon at eight-thirty.”

Genevieve quickly went to work. At eight-thirty she hurried over to the Dutch door. Standing there with the bottom of the door closed and the top open, she watched Mallory as she helped Leah cut a wide yellow ribbon across the front door.

A cheer went up as dozens of people, young and old, entered the Dandelion Corner. A line immediately formed at the ice cream counter. The twins ran to examine the low table with the windup toys and big yellow trucks. Lauren’s daughter, three-year-old Molly Sue, made a beeline for one of the big beanbag chairs where her older cousin, Emma, joined her. The two girls giggled and tapped their feet together.

Travis went for the books. Beth and Ami went for Mallory and Anna.

From all indications, it was a grand success. Genevieve turned back to the kitchen, first making sure that the bottom of the Dutch door was locked so she wouldn’t receive any early guests.

“You’re not trying to keep business away, are you?” a deep voice asked.

Genevieve looked up and saw Richard Palmas standing on the other side of the Dutch door, his green eyes taking in everything he could.

“Hello,” Genevieve said. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain. And you?”

“Great. I’m doing great.”

“It looks like it,” Richard said. “You look ten years younger than the last time I saw you. I’m impressed, after all you’ve been through. What’s your secret?”

“Love,” Genevieve said without hesitating.

“Anyone I know?”

“My husband,” Genevieve said.

Richard’s face registered his surprise. “Well, that’s a twist.”

“I have to get back to the kitchen,” Genevieve said. “We’ll be opening the café at nine.”

“Great. I’m ready for a good omelet.”

Genevieve smiled. “For a good omelet, you came to the right place.”

She returned to the kitchen humming. She found Jessica standing in the kitchen beside an older man dressed in a knit shirt that bore the logo of an expensive designer line of sportswear. For a moment, Genevieve thought the man
might be an inspector of some sort.

“Gena, I hope you don’t mind us slipping into the kitchen like this,” Jessica said. “I wanted to catch you before the café opened and everything turned into a mad rush for you.”

“You’re welcome in here anytime, Jessica. Front door, back door, it doesn’t matter to me.”

If the man with Jessica was an inspector, Genevieve might have violated some health regulation by stating that Jessica could enter the kitchen at any time.

But he wasn’t an inspector.

“I want you to meet my father,” Jessica said. Her smile lit up her face.

Genevieve froze in place. Another walking, breathing miracle was standing inside her café. Mr. Morgan’s being here meant he had responded to Jessica’s letter. By the look on Jessica’s face, their relationship had been restored.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ahrens. Jessica has told me about your rebuilding efforts, and I wish you great success.”

“Thank you.” Genevieve shook his strong hand. “It’s wonderful to have you here today, Mr. Morgan. I hope you’ll have time to join us for breakfast. I make a fairly commendable omelet.”

“That sounds good to me. I promised my grandkids I’d watch the parade with them first, though.” His stern face took on a softness when he said, “my grandkids.”

Jessica beamed. She slipped her arm through her dad’s as they left and said with a wink over her shoulder, “We’ll be back later.”

Genevieve couldn’t stop humming.

At five minutes to nine, all the pieces were in place. Leah entered through the back door. “Is this great or what? You met Jessica’s dad, didn’t you? Isn’t that incredible? He arrived yesterday afternoon, out of the blue. God is doing amazing things around here. I love it! I’ll wash up and put on an apron. You better get out there and unlock the door before the crowd knocks it down.”

Genevieve felt her heart pounding as she took each step toward the door. This was her dream. This very moment. This was the reoccurring scene in the dream she kept having months ago in which the phone rings and Steven tells her he’s stuck in Chicago.