Romance books written by Kimberly Caristi. They are stories about romance, travel and food. If you love Italy you will love the pictures, stories and food. Unpublished Books: A Club I Never Wanted to Join My Summer A dventure My Mother Ruined my Life My Daughter thinks I ruined her life Crows Nest Life is... so many things The Winds of Wyoming Possibilities (Dart) The Diner

Find pictures taken by Kimberly Caristi from her travels around the United States, Italy, Slovenia, and Greece. Charleston, SC Italy 2022 Greece 2022 Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park 2023 The beautiful Meteor Crater rest areas in Arizona Central Park, Chesterfield, MO Sunset Hotel in Moriarty, NM Lake Oconee, GA Lake Norman, NC Waterfalls in Franklin NC Slovenia Graz, Austria Italy 2025 Mims, Florida Hollywood, FL

Tessa is an over ambitious young woman.  She turns over her father's farm to an organic farm, becomes a chef, competes in a competition of young chefs, opens a restaurant, raises pekin ducks and emus.  She has one great fling and a drunken night.  Tessa sees love all around her but thinks she will never find that one true love. Written by Kimberly Caristi Tessa is an over ambitious young woman. She turns over her father's farm to an organic farm, becomes a chef, competes in a competition of young chefs, opens a farm to table restaurant, raises pekin ducks and emus. She has one great fling and one drunken night in Italy which is life altering. Tessa sees love all around her but thinks she will never find that one true love. This Magic Moment My excitement was so hard to contain. I was finally going home with my school art project that I worked so hard on. I couldn’t wait to show my mom and dad what I had been working on. As a second grader I was one of the last kids to get on the bus. There were only a couple of kids in first grade and afternoon kindergarten who were behind me. I was very proud of my project, and I bounced my way up the stairs to show Mr. Vanleer, our bus driver, my house. I had picked the nicest looking popsicle sticks to make my farmhouse. I colored them with the salmon marker making sure that I covered the whole stick in a pretty pink color. Of course, my house might have needed to be painted again but that didn’t matter. I was going to give it to my dad, showing him how much I loved our house and him. I was beaming from ear to ear after Mr. Vanleer said it was the nicest house he had ever seen. I had only gotten past a few rows when some mean boy thought it would be funny to trip me, which sent the house flying and to my utter dismay crashing into three pieces. My heart was broken. I was trying desperately not to cry because I had been taught that big girls don’t cry, nonetheless, a few tears did escape. I was saved by our neighbor Chase, who helped me pick up the pieces and had me sit with him. Chase was in seventh grade. He was the oldest of five brothers, all who rode the bus with my sister and me. Frank was in fifth grade, the twins Louis and Gab were in third grade with my sister Tina, and Andy was in first grade. Chase was so helpful; he used his chewing gum to glue back the pieces together. He talked to me about my house and asked me what my favorite subject was in school. We talked the whole way home. He carried my art up to the front of the bus when it was my turn to get off. His was the next stop after you crossed over the creek. When the weather was bad the bus didn’t cross the creek because it would never make it up that hill it was so steep. They either had to walk the rest of the way home or if they were lucky their mom would pick them up. I would never want to walk across that creek in the wintertime when the water was as cold as ice. Once I fell in the creek where it crossed our property and I was swiftly picked up by my dad and he ran with me in his arms all the way to our house. I was wrapped up in blankets and heating pads for a couple of days and got all the hot chocolate that I wanted. I walked our long driveway home with Tina talking all about Jordan, her new love. Tina was only nine but that was all she talked about was love. I have heard my mom and dad talk about her obsession with love. Apparently, it scared both of them. I was too young to understand it but I thought I would have been scared too if I were her mom. While she yammered on about him and how the other girls were jealous of her, I thought about how kind Chase was and thought he was the nicest boy I knew. Maybe I loved him. The Very Thought of You As the years went on, I watched Chase become the king of the bus. His word was law and everything he said went unprotested. He picked the radio station, and we all had to be happy with his choice of music…no one protested. If someone sat in his seat all he had to do was stand there and look at them. He never lifted a fist as far as I saw, unlike his brothers who were always fighting. Even the older kids who still rode the bus deferred to Chase with his undeniable presence. One day when I was in seventh grade I was late getting on the bus. There was only one seat that had only one person in it and that was Chase’s. I saw there were kids with three to a seat. No one ever asked Chase if they could sit with him. He was a senior and there were unwritten bus rules never ask to sit with a senior. The route our bus took in the afternoon was pick up the kids from the high school first then it went to the middle school. We drove a half hour to the elementary school which was another half hour to our house. Half of the kids got off our bus and got on their buses to go in all directions. If you were flying overhead when all the buses left the school, you would have thought it looked like a bunch of yellow ants leaving the anthill. With my arms full of books and a cake pan, I very tentatively asked Chase if I could sit with him. He picked up his book bag without saying a word. I was so nervous I could feel the sweat trickling down my back on that cold winter day. I didn’t want to bother him, so I sat staring straight ahead. Usually, I was very talkative with everyone, but it was Chase, he was the king. I saw that he was eyeing me out of the corner of my eye. Finally, I took a deep breath, “Do you want to say something?” I should have asked meekly but there was not a meek bone in my body. “I am just wondering if there is something in the cake pan you have sitting on your lap,” instead of being gruff he smiled at me. “Yes, I had to do a speech about France so I made a couple Buche de Noel to share with the class.” “A what?” “It is a cake made to celebrate the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. It’s from the Celts.” I was very chipper of course I was it had to do with France. Anyway, I was proud of myself for knowing all this information about a simple cake. Since he hadn’t stopped smiling at me that made me nervous. A smile shouldn’t make you nervous, it just was the way he was smiling. I continued talking, which was my forte other than baking. I started baking with my mom when I was five since she started working outside of the house. I have gradually started to bake more and sometimes made dinner. I was getting better because we were eating more of it than our dog, Rusty, though when I started Rusty wouldn’t even eat it. “Anyway, a Buche de Noel is like a Swiss roll. Do you know what a Swiss roll is?” “How old are you?” he asked, almost laughing at me. “Twelve? Why?” I said it like I had done something wrong. “You sound like you are way older. Do you have any left?” I was a little worried because if everyone asked, I wouldn’t have any left for my dad and I promised him a piece of cake. I guess I could just make a new one. “Yes.” I said timidly. “Can I taste this Buche de Noel?” I laughed at him butchering the pronunciation. I was thankful he laughed, “You have a great laugh,” he said leaning over to my ear in a low tone. I turned red. In a similar low tone I said, “Yes, but please don’t let anyone see because I don’t have enough for everyone, and I want to save a piece for my dad.” In a hushed tone he said, “Okay.” I snapped off the lid on the side closest to him and lifted it just enough that he could get his hand in and out without losing the slice of cake in his fist. He carefully took a bite with his head against the seat in front of him trying to hide that he had something. I watched patiently to see what he thought. I didn’t have to wait very long, and he turned his head and with his eyes open wide, “You made this?” I nodded my head. “This is very good.” Frank turned around, “What’s good? Do you have food?” Chase licked his lips very fast and lifted his head to confront Frank, “Clean out your ears! I said, ``It is good that she is going to move when the little kids get on the bus.” He gave me a look and winked with the eye that Frank couldn’t see. We talked the rest of the way to the elementary school about all the things I could bake. When I told him I could make a very good cherry pie he let me know that cherry pie was his favorite. I told him I would make him one someday. While walking up our drive, Tina was talking about her new dress for the eighth-grade winter dance this weekend. Mary Jane would be so upset when she saw Tina with heels and a dress that mom actually bought for her. I barely listened because I was thinking of Chase and how he thought I was the best baker he ever met. I knew that was saying a lot because I had his mom’s baked goods at the church picnic. He told me I should become a baker. I had been thinking I would like to become a chef someday. I watched the reruns of Julia Child’s show all the time and it didn’t look that hard. Cherish or Cherry Pie In the spring when I got on the bus all the high school boys were needling Chase, saying they knew he was a jock, but they didn’t know he had brains, too. Everyone knew he was a jock. My dad said Chase’s arm was like a rocket launcher. The football flew out of his arm and landed on the money, which I assumed meant the player caught the ball. Chase also played baseball. He was not the pitcher because his dad wanted him to play professional football instead. I didn’t know you could choose. Chase’s dad and my dad were good friends. Chase was being heckled on the bus which surprised me, no one picked him. I finally heard what they were teasing him about. Come to find out he was named Valedictorian of his class, so he was not only a jock but very smart. When I got off the bus, I had the nerve to speak to him. “Congratulations Chase,” was all I could muster. He gave me his captivating smile and thanked me. At dinner time, I told my mom and dad about Chase being the Valedictorian. My mom said he was the whole package. I asked what that meant and she said he was good looking, smart and an athlete. I guess he was just that. I suggested that I make him a celebratory cherry pie. My mom said that would be a nice gesture. Saturday morning, I got all the supplies together that I needed and made Chase a cherry pie. Mom drove me over to deliver it. I wanted to drop it off and run but mom wanted to visit with Mrs. Richards. I had to sit there while the two of them had a cup of coffee. I was thrilled to find out that all the boys were out working on the farm. I wanted to be nice nevertheless I knew I would be teased if the younger boys saw I baked a pie for Chase. When my mom told Mrs. Richards that we wanted to congratulate Chase with a pie. I was happy that it didn’t come across as me making it for Chase but the Deigert family congratulating Chase. Monday when the Richards boys got on the bus, they told Tina to thank my mom for the best pie ever. It was better than their own mom’s pies. I smiled to myself, but Tina blurted out, “Oh, my mom didn’t make the pie, Tessa did.” She was proud of me. Well, that sent the boys into an uproar. They started to tease me that I liked Chase. They were sitting in the seat behind me tormenting me except Chase who went back to his seat. After a few minutes of taking a bunch of jabs I stood up and I turned around putting my hands on my hips. I leaned forward enough to look like I was going to spit fire and said, “I thought I liked all of you but not anymore. If any of you ever do anything that deserves a pie you won’t be getting it from me!” I was not quite yelling though my voice was higher than usual. I saw Chase sitting in the back and he gave me a thumbs up. I turned back to the front and said in even a louder voice, “Though I doubt any of you could even spell Valedictorian let alone be one.” I sat down with a thud. Well, that shut them up. When Chase got off the bus he stopped at my seat and thanked me for the pie. I was thankful that his brothers were off the bus by the time he got to my seat. He told me I did a good job of handling his brothers. I thought I had to because he was no help. To me this great guy that everyone looked up to was knocked off his high perch as far as I was concerned. The issue was I had put him there. I decided he was just another guy with a big ego. A couple of days later I received a card thanking me for the delicious pie. I couldn’t believe he sent me a thank you card. That was very nice of him. I put it in my treasure box with my arrowheads and my rabbit's foot. Maybe Chase wasn’t that bad . Good Riddance Mrs. Richards called me one day and asked me if I would make a cake for Chase’s graduation party and some cookies. It felt weird talking to an adult about what flavors she wanted in a cake and what kind of cookies. I asked her how she knew I made cakes and cookies. She told me that my mom and dad have been bragging about me for years and all this time Mrs. Richards thought it was really my mom’s baking not mine. “When the boys came home and told me it was you who made the pie, I knew your parents had to be telling the truth.” I stood a little taller that day. I made a black forest cake, chocolate cherry cookies, peanut butter cookies and lemon sugar cookies. The black forest cake was the biggest cake I had ever made. Since I knew Chase liked cherries, I thought he would like that cake the best. Mrs. Richards ordered a chocolate cake: well that just wouldn’t do. It had to be special. We got to go to his graduation party. We drove up their long driveway, up on top of the hill where this grand house sat surrounded by trees. Everyone around here had gravel driveways though the Richards was made from white rocks which really looked so nice against the green grass. Our house was a simple farmhouse with gables and a big picture window in front with a really beaten-up screen door and a wooden screened-in porch to the side of the house. The Richards house was a huge two-story white house with pillars in the front. They had a circular driveway that let you off at their front door. The parking area next to their garage looked out onto a lake. If you wanted to park in their garage, you would drive behind the house. I was in awe of that house though I felt uncomfortable in it when I had my work clothes on but today, I had on a party dress as my mother called it. We arrived before the guests to help set up some chairs and, of course, put my cake and cookies on the table. I was nervous that something might be wrong with the cake. My dad taste tested all the cookies, so I knew they were good…well, he approved. He loved the new cookie that I made up. It was a chocolate cookie base with a maraschino cherry topped with a chocolate glaze. He said I will have to start making those cookies all the time. Mrs. Richards asked me to serve the cake, so I had to stand by the cake table the whole party, which was a drag unless someone took a bite of the cake in front of me and told me how good it was. I didn’t tell anyone that I made it. I just smiled and said I was glad they liked it. Chase came by with some of his friends and they took some cake plus enough cookies that their plates were like pyramids. He smiled at me but didn’t say anything…he was knocked down another peg. After a couple of hours of standing on my feet I begged my mom to let me walk home. It was only a couple of miles, and it was a beautiful evening. I only had to beg a little bit before she told me I had to be careful crossing the creek not to get my shoes wet or dirty. Tina wanted to stay and make gaga faces at all the boys. When Andy heard me say goodbye to Tina, he asked me if he could tag along because he was bored. Andy was the sweetest of all the Richards boys. I didn’t think the middle three were nice at all. They were kind of rough and mean if you asked me. We saw Chase and some of his friends out front and the hooting and hollering that was done while Andy and I walked down the road pissed me off. I tried not to have it bother me, nevertheless it did. I would never understand boys and teasing. I took off my socks and shoes to cross the creek. Andy jumped across. I thought about attempting that but figured if I slipped and fell, I would have Andy laughing at me and I couldn’t stand that at the moment. I had a lot of pent-up frustrations, more like anger. We started cutting through the fields to make the walk shorter. We made plans that when we got to my house, I would change my clothes, and we would play on my tire swing. Well, that didn’t happen. While I was stepping through some tall grass a copperhead struck my ankle. I let out a blood curdling scream that probably could have been heard at the Richards if someone had been listening. I told Andy to go back and tell my parents what happened, and I would meet them at the crossroad. We both knew I had to go to the doctor. I had never seen Andy run so fast. It wasn’t long before I saw our car come speeding down the gravel road with dust flying everywhere. I was sitting in the middle of the road because I wanted to make sure that I could see a snake coming at me. Nobody was happy with me, not even me. I knew I was to walk with a stick in the grass. It took me over a week to feel better. Chase sent me a get-well card along with a thank you for the best cake ever. He said it was better than the Noel cake. I was sure he just remembered the Noel part and not the Buche. He said he was going away to college and if I wanted to send him cookies, he wouldn’t mind, especially the chocolate ones with cherries. He added the lemon cookies were a close second. The thank you helped but it still bothered me the way he treated me or the way he let other people treat me. He had another thing coming if he thought I would make him cookies and send them to him at college. Friends in Low Places The next time I saw Chase was at Frank’s wedding. Tina and I were pretty sure Frank and Candace got caught doing it in her bedroom and her dad said they had to get married, or he was going to send Frank to jail because she was seventeen. Frank looked so unhappy during the ceremony and got drunk at the reception at the Richards home. Chase got drunk too. He was home from college. I was in ninth grade and Tina was in tenth. She was in heaven because there were two boys to every one girl. She never stopped dancing the whole night. Tina got all the best genes when it came to the body. She had all the curves in the right places. I was always told by the sweetest of my aunts that if I would lose ten to twenty pounds that all the boys would flock to me instead of Tina. I didn’t want a guy that bad. If they didn’t like me the way I was then they could just move on, that was my mantra. My mom would say it was my baby fat that made me adorable. Again, I was hired by the Richards to make petit fours, mini lemon meringue pies, and mini cheesecakes. My mom said it would be our gift to them. I thought that cheated Frank out of a gift, but I really didn’t see the marriage lasting after watching them at the wedding. I kept all the recipes simple for me because it was such a big order. I always hoped that one of these kinds of events would get me more jobs but when they found out it was a fourteen-year-old girl that made the desserts, they lost interest. I was standing out of the way just watching the dancing. Chase came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “The desserts are very good. Have you picked out the culinary school you will be going to?” I turned around to the smell of booze. I could hardly stand being so close to him. I stepped back and replied, “I am not sure where I am going to school.” Chased stepped forward and leaned in very close to my face. I was a little scared, but I was not going to show it. He started to sway a little and asked, “Do you want to dance with me?” I did not like Chase the older I got. “No, I don’t dance.” Which was a little bit of a lie. I loved to dance but I only danced on my own or with my girlfriends. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He tried to pull me by the hand onto the dance floor. He bumped into some guy I didn’t know, the guy turned around and pushed Chase. Chase then fell into someone else and then all hell broke loose. A big fight ensued. My dad was just walking in from outside and saw what was happening. He grabbed my sister and me then shoved us at our mom. He ran back and started grabbing guys and tossing them to the side. My dad was a big guy and nobody tangled with him. Mr. Richard then took a shovel from the fireplace and started hitting guys over the head that wouldn’t stop fighting. It was kind of comical, but I didn’t dare laugh, though on the way home everyone in our car was laughing about it. A couple of days later I got a card from Chase saying he was sorry for his behavior. He just couldn’t stand how Frank was making the biggest mistake of his life and used alcohol to deaden the pain of the day. I didn’t know why he was writing an apology to me. He should be writing one to his parents. Teenage Dream In my sophomore year my life changed for what I thought was the best thing ever. In Biology class I realized that we were ruining our earth with all these pesticides. I begged my dad to let me have a part of our land between where I got the snake bite and the river to try my hand at organic farming. The field where Andy and I walked across was already organic. It was our hay field so I knew I would not have to worry about the pesticides floating over my organic ground. It wasn’t hard to convince him. He was thrilled I took an interest in farming. He told me that I would have to do everything myself. We had a discussion of what it would take to become an organic farmer. My mom took part in our conversation. Years later she told me the reason why she wanted to be a part of the discussion was she didn’t want my dad to make it out harder than it would be. She made sure I really understood what would be required of me. I knew it was going to take years to be certified as organic, but I could let people know I was not using pesticides or chemical fertilizer on my plants. I have worked on our farm since I was a little girl and loved it. I thought that was why my dad agreed to let me take on all the responsibility of working our land. My mom really got behind it and helped me do research on how to proceed. She even found a farmer’s market in St. Louis where we could take our produce. I made a sign that said we were in transition to becoming an organic farm and this year’s crop was not treated with chemicals. We did well enough that mom wanted to do it again next summer. She could tell I was already into it one hundred percent. I was in heaven as some people say. I loved planting and taking care of the plants. I took pictures of some of my fruit, like they were my babies. That was when my mom realized that this was my true calling. We met some lovely people there and got to try some great barbeque at a restaurant nearby. Mom and I saw what people were paying for organic berries so we decided we would plant some black raspberries, more blackberries and red raspberries. Organic farming was not for the faint of heart. I thought I was working harder than I was before. I joined the FFA, Future Farmers of America. In the spring our advisor coaxed me into making a presentation at the state fair. I felt so honored to be asked. Since I was going anyway, I thought I would enter a few baking contests. I entered my best blackberry cobbler, sour cherry pie and ‘The Best Chocolate Chip Cookie’ contest in which I added almond extract, dried sour cherries and chopped candied almonds to offset the sour cherries. I was pleased to win first place for my sour cherry pie and took third with my cookie recipe. I didn’t pack the house for my presentation, though the people that were there told me I did a good job. Even a couple of people asked me if I could point them in the right direction to become organic certified. That lifted my spirits because I was responsible for changing people’s minds. For a minute I thought I could do it for a living, trying to change people's minds about using pesticides. I got asked out more in my junior year of high school than any year. I got more form to my body the summer between sophomore and junior year. Tina gave me her old clothes to wear instead of wearing jeans and a jean shirt. I did something with my unruly hair, too. I also started wearing makeup. Tina was always on me to make myself look better. Her mantra was if you didn’t look good you didn’t feel good. Sometimes on the end of that she would add about yourself. I did feel better when I looked nice. The issue I had was working on the farm. It was hard to look good all the time. The one important thing I learned while I was in the FFA was that kids on dairy farms had it rough. I felt for those kids. My friend, Alison, had to get up so early to milk before school. I was glad we didn’t get into dairy farming because those people don’t have a life. You couldn’t take a day off if you just didn’t feel well. Those cows want to be milked morning and night. My vegetables didn’t require me to get up early. I had been known to pick my vegetables at night to make dinner. I found dating not worth all the work. My understanding of the purpose of dating was to have fun with someone, right? Well, that was what I thought. I was spending my time with a guy, and he would be telling me about someone we knew and how he was so much better than him, bragging how he was way better at whatever sport they were playing, or my date was trying to go all the way on our first date. None of that interested me and they were not interested in getting to know me. She’s in Love with a Boy My parents told Tina she had to go to a year of community college before they would allow her to marry her high school sweetheart Greg. My parents said Greg had to go to some sort of college, too. Tina visited the community college and after talking to a couple of teachers decided that she wanted to go away to college. My parents were thrilled that she fell in love with the idea of going away to school instead. She applied to several colleges in Missouri and got a scholarship that helped pave the way. That surprised all of us because it looked like she wanted to go to all four years to earn a degree. That was news to Greg and he didn’t like that idea at all. In fact, he was very upset with Tina. He told Tina if she went away to college he might not be here when she got back. As it turned out, Tina was fine with that because when the fall break came around, she brought home Scott. Scott was from St. Louis and had never been on a farm. It was love at first sight…Scott and the farm. It took a little more time for Tina and Scott to fall in love. He was so excited by everything. My parents were astounded by Scott, he seemed more excited about where Tina lived than he was with her. At the dinner table the conversation centered on what mom and I were doing. Scott was a biology major, and organic farming really interested him. Tina hung onto every word he said. The funny thing was she started to have an interest in what we were doing, too. It was like a light had gone on in her head about other things in life besides men and how she looked. When Tina and Scott left to go back to school all of us decided that this guy was a keeper. We didn’t know if Scott was the reason for Tina’s change or going to college. Either way mom and dad were happy. Dating my senior year really tapered off to just going out with a group of people and having a fun time. Really, I hung out with FFA people because we were all interested in farming. I even persuaded a few to try their hand at organic farming. Not everyone had a great support system like I did. I felt so blessed to have my family take an interest in what I did. So far dad hasn’t gone totally organic, but I haven’t given up hope that he would someday. My Girl Gab Richards got a girl pregnant, and the Richards had a quick wedding. Mrs. Richards hired me to make the wedding cake and some appetizers for the little reception they were having. It was my first wedding cake, and I was excited. It was going to be a simple wedding cake flavored with vanilla and almond extract with a butter batter. She wanted a raspberry filling. The frosting was a vanilla Italian buttercream with little pearls around the edges. The bride’s family was roasting a pig, so she wanted my appetizers to be a simple pick up with your fingers, kind of thing. I made stuffed mushrooms, mini cream puffs filled with chicken salad and mini quiche for the vegetarians. She was going to put out sliced cheese, salami, and assorted vegetables with a dip. The disdain in Mrs. Richards’ voice when she told me the bride’s family was bringing baked beans, potato salad, apple sauce and corn bread told me not to say “that sounds good” when she finished. I arrived early in the morning to bring the cake. I was surprised how they have added onto the house. I guess the only son to leave was Chase. Frank and his wife and their little brat were living over where the garage used to be. They made the garage into a large family room. They added a huge garage at the backside of the house. Six large vehicles could fit into that garage, it was so big. I was to set up the cake table in the new family room. I had everything looking just right when I turned around and saw Chase in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt. “What happened to my little girl?” The former me would have turned red by that comment but hanging around a bunch of guys in FFA had taught me to blow off comments besides, I thought that statement was a little weird. I gave my best nonchalant smile, “Hi Chase. I see you have dressed for breakfast.” That made him self-conscious, which pleased me. “Sorry I didn’t know we were having company.” I said a little flippant, “I am not company. I am the hired help.” Chase put on a serious smile, “So where are you going to culinary school?” “I am not going to culinary school. I am going to Mizzou for an agriculture degree.” I was proud of my decision. “Tell me you are not going to hang around here?” He said, with a look of exasperation. “I love it here. I have started an organic farm on part of my dad’s property. Every year I add more land.” Again, I was proud to be a successful organic farmer. I had to stand up to what I believed in. “My parents told me about you. They think you are nuts.” Chase was such a smart aleck. “Well, I am not the Valedictorian that you were, but I did graduate last week fifth in my class and got a full ride to Mizzou. So, if I am nuts then so be it.” I smiled and walked past him. “Tell your mom I will be back an hour before the reception please.” Chase yelled after me, “You still owe me a dance.” I left feeling good and if Chase thought I would dance with him he was going to have a rude awakening. I returned at the said hour dressed in a classic black dress and a pair of high heels. After an hour of standing, I wished I had worn flats. Now Chase was in a very nice dark blue suit and starched white shirt. He came up behind me and whispered, “You are making a mistake not going to culinary school.” I answered flatly, “Thanks but I think I know what is right for me.” I turned to face him. This time he wasn’t drunk. “So, no drinking to Gab and him making the biggest mistake of his life?” I saw him cringe…good. “No, I have given up on my brothers. Well, maybe not Andy, he still has some sweetness in him. This time I think Gab is happy – just look at him. He is all smiles. Now, take a look at Frank, he is the poster child for bitterness.” My eyes moved from Gab with his arm around Amelia to Frank and saw the harshness in his eyes. It looked like Frank was looking at Gab and hating him for being happy. Well, that was what it looked like from here. Gab and Amelia were a good-looking couple and I bet they would have beautiful children together. Frank’s wife Candice was nowhere to be seen. I bet she was upstairs with their little one, Frank Jr. He was a little brat if there ever was one. Mom said when she came over here Frankie ruled the roost and was a little terror. Chase broke my train of thought, “How about that dance you owe me?” He smiled at me, then held out his hand for mine. “Well, the funny thing is there is no one dancing. Besides, I told you I don’t dance.” He took a hold of my hand and said, “Please come with me.” I didn’t know why but I didn’t resist. I knew why because he said it in a sexy voice. We walked outside where most of the bride’s family were gathered around the pig though some people were dancing to the music they were playing. “This is where the fun and action is happening.” He swung me around and pulled me towards him. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just a second,” the pout on his face was adorable. “I have to take these shoes off; they are killing me.” Oh, we had fun dancing with everyone outside. That was more to my liking. Someone called out, let's do a square dance and he started calling out moves. I didn’t think I laughed that much in a long time. Dancing barefoot in the Richards yard was a treat to the feet. I didn’t know how much fertilizer they used to get grass to feel like carpet. I hoped they didn’t eat the fish they pulled out of their lake. It was getting late, and people were going inside to eat dinner. I went to sit down (more like I flopped down) on the little hill at the edge of the woods. Chase followed with his suit jacket in hand. I started the conversation, “Where are you living these days?” “New York,” he said a little out of breath. “Wow, that is pretty far from this farm. You ran as fast as you could to get away from this place.” “I had to get away from this life to see what was out there. Aren’t you a little curious to see the world?” “Maybe to go on vacation but really the beauty of this area can’t be beat.” He made a huffing noise of disapproval. “Hey, I watch the travel channel.” “That is literally watching the world go by through a window,” he chuckled. “Well, in a couple of weeks I will be flying to Paris. Do you know about this city? It happens to be in France.” I said a little bit snooty. “Ooh la la,” he shook his hand to exaggerate how little he was impressed. “Have you been to Paris?” It made me curious a guy who wanted to see the world and I bet he had only seen New York. “No, but I could if I wanted to.” Chase sounded like a little kid. I stood up, “Then don’t mock me until you have.” I walked off with Chase calling after me. It was time to cut the cake and serve it. As soon as I was finished, I collected my trays and put them in my truck and didn’t look back. I didn’t think I would be doing any more business with the Richards. I knew Chase wouldn’t be getting married and Louis was too smart to get caught by someone wanting to get married. I was betting Andy would do it right where the bride’s family took care of the reception. In a couple of days, I got a postcard from New York saying, ‘New York has everything Paris has and more. Come visit and I will show you around, Chase.’ Mon Amour, Mon Ami (My Love, My Friend) I was so excited to go to Paris with my French class. It was my graduation present. My mom had promised to look after the garden and she would take the lettuces, the strawberries and the herbs that were ready to the farmer’s market the weekends that I was gone. I found myself in total awe of everything I saw and ate. I really needed to work on my pastry skills after eating my first croissant. We spent the whole day in the Louvre Museum. I lost count of all the paintings I had seen on my trip. I couldn’t believe I saw all those famous paintings in person. My favorite part of the day was eating. Who wouldn’t want to eat French food? I could have spent the whole day eating. I got the idea of raising goats while in France and started to do research in the hotel then I sent the information to my mom. The next day my mom sent me an email asking why was I spending all my time doing research when I should be sightseeing. The following day I sent her a picture of me at the top of the Eiffel tower. We spent a week in Paris and a week-long trip touring around the countryside. It was so beautiful. There were flowers everywhere and the smell of lavender filled the air as they were just starting to bloom. I took a selfie with the background of thousands of sunflowers at one stop. They were just starting to open up and the sun was in the right direction for them all facing my back as I took the picture. It was my favorite picture I took on the trip and put it as my screensaver on my computer. The part of the picture with me was covered up with all my icons that didn’t matter because what I really wanted to see was the sunflowers and that bright blue sky. When we went to the castles in Sant Malo and Brest they were a highlight of the trip for the guys. Knowing that the pirates had a base in Sant Malo excited them more than me getting to eat cheese and bread in France. I thought the castles were beautiful, especially the one in Sant Malo. The water was so clear and blue. What I found entertaining was that it took me to go over four thousand miles to see the Atlantic Ocean when I could have driven to see it in less than a thousand miles. Vegetables When I got home, I had a lot of work to do to keep the bugs and blight away from my plants. The weekly trips to St. Louis were a treat, literally a treat. We have one restaurant close by our farm, the Crow’s Nest was nothing to write home about. It was a greasy spoon, and the spoons were usually greasy. Mom and I made a big deal out of it finding somewhere special eat. We picked a new place for lunch which was our excitement for the week. We always brought back something special from St. Louis for dad, so he was loving my enterprise. Tina wasn’t into extravagant food as she put it. After the first couple times we stopped bringing her food because mom wasn’t happy that dad was eating what Tina didn’t want. That summer I expanded my entrepreneurship by adding bread to our stall. I had seen people pay top dollar for a good loaf of bread and I thought I could compete with the best of them when making bread. I made two kinds: a French baguette and a hearty whole wheat bread. The first time I brought a couple dozen of each, and I sold out in an hour. The truth was that the vendors around us bought most of them. They told me that I had to bring bread every week from now on. I bought a convection oven for our stall and brought enough dough to double the number of loaves and baked them in our stall. The oven was a pain to hall to our stall each week, but it was worth it. By the end of the season, people were coming up to us saying they would miss having fresh baked bread on Saturdays. Mom and I figured out that it would be too costly to bake bread and deliver it here each week during the off season, so that was out of the question. Plus, I was starting college and when I came home, I would need to attend to my garden. When you live in a farming community you hear about everyone personal business usually at the general store or the post office. We heard our neighbor Mrs. Preston had cancer. Mom suggested that I make her some chicken soup or some broth. She had heard Mrs. Preston was having trouble keeping her food down. The chemo was making her so sick. I went to work making Mrs. Preston both chicken soup and a chicken and vegetable stock. There were just as many vegetables in the stock as there were chicken bones and meat. I did a good job of straining the stock so if she just wanted something light the stock would fit the bill. I thought it tasted good, nevertheless I wasn’t sure if it would stay down. I made some cookies as well because Mr. Preston had commented on them when I made them for Frank’s wedding. I headed out very satisfied with my collection of organic soup, stocks plus nonorganic cookies. I hadn’t gone that far over on having everything organic yet. It was hard to find organic stuff at our grocery store. I thought it would be cool to get to that point though. When I was crossing over the creek and heading up the hill, I could just see the Richards’ massive home from the road. I definitely could see their green grass. It saddened me that I knew their runoff of chemicals was polluting our creek and river. Mr. Preston’s property was on the north side of the road from the Richards’ property and at the top of the hill his property was on both sides of the street. Mr. Preston did not have a huge production of corn and soybeans, but it was his farm, not a corporation. I detested that we had a couple corporations around here because they were ruining the land. The thought of what was polluting creeks and rivers would just rile me to the bone. Mr. Preston used herbicides and pesticides: all the stuff I was against, though when one of your neighbors was sick you helped them out or brought them chicken soup. It wasn’t a full forty-eight hours before Mr. Preston was at my house asking if I would mind making his wife more stock. It was the first thing she had kept food down in a month. I had seen she had lost weight at my visit and it was difficult for me to look at her when she talked. I told Mr. Preston that it was because it was all organic. I didn’t know if that was the truth, but I thought it was true or I wanted it to be true. Some of the reason could be that our vegetables tasted so much better than what you get at the grocery store. I knew our chicken tasted better than anything I had elsewhere. He sat in my kitchen and talked to me about what it took to become an organic farmer. I started to make enough soup to last a week for Mrs. Preston. She couldn’t get over how good it tasted, he said. Scott told him that it was because I made it. I assured him it was because it was organic. Scott had come for a visit and was listening to our conversation and would add a tidbit here and there. Scott was getting to know as much as me. After his first visit he started doing his own research on organic farming. He had even looked up some grants that I could apply for. I hoped and prayed that Tina and Scott would never break up. When everything was packed up, he laid two twenty-dollar bills down on the table and said he didn't know how much he should pay for the information he received. He asked if he had any questions, could he come by again? I told him the soup and the information were free and tried to hand him back his money. He wouldn’t take it and said if I didn’t take it, he wouldn’t ask us for help again. I pocketed the money. I felt bad for him because he felt that he was the one who made his wife sick. Their beautiful old farmhouse sat not twenty feet in any direction from the area where he sprayed all that poison. Their barn sat right up against the field. There was no wasted space. I bet their own home garden got some of the spray since it sat up against the field, too. The Freshman I was ready to go to Mizzou and everything was packed when Tina came into my room to talk to me about what to expect from guys in college. I didn’t think they were any different than they were in high school. She told me to always travel around campus with a couple of girls: the more the better. I thought it was funny and she told me to stop laughing she was serious. Our schools were not far from each other. A few hours were all, but I would miss seeing her. The past year I had mom and dad to keep me company, which helped. When I was missing her terribly, I would go in her room and call her…texting wouldn’t do. I didn’t know what we were going to do when she got married and moved away. I didn’t know if Scott was the one, but their relationship was the longest she had been with one guy. This past summer she would hitch a ride with us and spend the day with Scott then he would bring her home late at night. Sometimes when we woke up on Sunday, we found him sleeping on our family room couch. Mom finally told them that if he were going to spend the night that Tina should sleep with me and he could have her room. By August, he had pretty much moved in on the weekend, coming out on Friday and leaving Monday morning for work. He worked in his dad’s law office as a secretary though he called himself a clerk. His dad knew Scott didn’t want to become a lawyer, but I thought Mr. Turner was hoping if Scott hung around the office, he might want to become one. I knew Scott wanted to be a farmer. It was just that Scott didn’t know it yet. Scott talked about how he felt out here, and I knew that was the same feeling I got when I came back from St. Louis. Dad was showing Scott what it took to be a farmer, and mom and I were showing Scott what it took to be an organic farmer, which he loved. He helped me do all kinds of jobs from spraying the plants with pepper spray in hope of getting rid of the insects and maybe the bunnies would stop eating the produce. We might have one Mexican bunny because he keeps eating one head of lettuce that I keep spraying with hot sauce. Scott had helped me build tunnels for more than just the tomato and pepper plants. We have added some tunnels for my berries too. While I was in college, I went home most weekends to work on my gardens, or should I say my farm. I had a lot to do cutting out the old canes of black raspberries, raspberries and blackberries. I trimmed the fruit trees because I was training them in the espalier style. I wanted them to be flat trees like a trellis. It was an ancient way of producing more fruit and keeping the dead wood out. My dad only allotted me so much land, so I had to make the best of it. I was growing them along guard wires around the outline of the lettuce garden. The lettuce only needed five hours of light, and the trees would help to keep the lettuce cooler. Hot sun and temperature make for wilted lettuce. The only good, wilted lettuce was with bacon, vinegar and sugar. On a beautiful fall day, I stopped by Mr. Preston’s to see how his wife was doing and I brought a big pot of chicken soup. I was checking to see if he had any questions and to be honest, I wanted to check if he was getting frustrated with the process of changing over to being organic. We talked about his process of changing over his land. Mrs. Preston was doing better and was as interested in converting to an organic farm as well as Mr. Preston. She was looking so much better, and she had just finished having her chemo treatments. Now, she just had to get checked every so often. They both had a positive attitude that she was cancer free now. I prayed she was cancer free as well. I brought over a book that I had used in one of my classes for them to read. I was feeling good about what he had started to convert already. I really liked them, and they seemed to like me. I felt like our dynamic had changed. We sat and talked about my classes and what I was doing at the percent time on the farm. I knew I already had grandparents but maybe I could treat them like a great aunt and uncle. We had always seen each other at church functions, town festivals or neighbors’ parties but this experience of bringing Mrs. Preston soup and talking about what it meant to be an organic farmer had brought us to another level of connection. I was getting to know them on an adult level, and they treated me like an adult, which was so nice. I had decided to major in Agribusiness management and minor in Agricultural systems technology before I started college. At orientation, I talked to a great advisor then she sent me over to the departments to talk to a couple of professors. I wasn’t interested in doing an internship because I already had my own farm. I didn’t know what they said to all the prospective students but they both said they looked forward to having me in class. They both thought I had a good plan set up and were a little nervous that I was putting too much on my plate. I assured them that I was a serious student and wanted to get the most out of my college experience. I took a test to see if I could test out of any French classes. I was happy that I tested out of both first year’s classes. The person who gave me the exam said I was just points from testing out of the first three semesters. I might be getting ahead of myself, but I might have two minors, the second one being French. I loved everything French. Shoot my bedroom had a French theme with a picture of the Eiffel Tower hanging over my bed. I planned on decorating my dorm the same way. My mom bought me a bedspread with the Eiffel Tower, French stamps, the word “Paris” and all things French. I definitely was a Francophile. Sticking with my French theme I decided to take classes in the culinary arts and hone my skills on becoming a real chef. I had to learn how to make some of the food that I had on my trip to France. I was taking an overload and wasn’t worried about it. Cooking had become a passion. I loved baking but cooking the main dishes was so much more exciting. Our weekly honors meetings to discuss a book we were all reading was one of the highlights of my week. I wanted to do something besides studying which was the biggest percentage of my awake time. I knew I didn’t want to join the running group. That was too hard on my body. So, I took up walking with a group of walkers. Walking was fun and I could talk and meet people doing it. I met a young man who had gotten hurt his senior year in high school playing football and walking was the only activity his body could handle at this point. Jonah was a nice guy, and I thought we would have fun on a date so I finally asked him if he would want to go to a movie with me. We had a great time and started to see each other more often outside the walking group. By the end of the school year, he was able to start with the running group. Neither one of us said anything about getting together during the summer. I think we used each other for a fun time when we needed a break from our studies. Jonah was as dedicated to his studies as I was. I thought he would make a great doctor. He had a passion and a compassion that would make him an exceptional doctor. Plus, he had a sense of humor that would put his patients at ease if they got sick. The Sunday before the end of the year of my freshman finals, Mrs. Richards died of ovarian cancer. After she was diagnosed, she only lived for a couple of months. Her funeral was the day of one of my finals and I had to do a presentation, which was more or less a part of my final for the class. There was no way I could responsibly miss these finals for a woman that I only saw a few times a year. She always wanted to entertain at her house, so mom and dad went there. Mom was thrilled she didn’t have to worry about what condition our house was in. I used our screened in porch for plantings as well as our sunroom. Either way when you came into our house you smelled dirt unless I was baking, then the smells were something delicious. I wrote Chase a letter telling him I was sorry for the loss of his mom and apologized for missing the funeral and the reason why. I told him a couple of special stories about her that were triggered when I made a cherry pie or had vanilla cake. I wrote a nice note to Mr. Richards, too. I didn’t feel I had to write to all the brothers since they still lived at home. When I got home, I had a letter from Chase thanking me for thinking of him and the kind words I said about his mom. He understood why I wasn’t there, which made me feel better about missing the funeral. My first year of college I kept my scholarship, and I made the Dean’s list. I had heard of the freshman fifteen. Most freshmen came home having gained weight in the first year. I lost fifteen. My mom was so worried because I had lost so much but I assured her that I ate. I just never got used to the food and I talked too much while I sat with friends. Really they were my study partners who valued food more than studying. I was usually late for dinner so I ate what I could and left. I really didn’t feel like I had tried to lose weight, it just was a happy coincidence. At the end of her sophomore year, Tina had decided to become a teacher like mom. My mom was honored and happy that she finally decided what she wanted to do. My disappointment was she was behind in getting all the requirements fulfilled in two more years, so she stayed at school to do two summer terms. To my dismay, we only saw Scott and her occasionally until August. Then Scott almost moved in. My dad said we should just add his name to the mailbox. We teased dad on how old he was because nobody got mail anymore. The statement brought me to thoughts of Chase. He must have an old soul since he wrote letters. Power of Two Thinking Out Loud The day I arrived home after my freshman year, I was so excited I talked nonstop to my parents about what my exams were like and what I was going to start to do on the farm. Both of them begged me to eat something and I realized they just wanted me to stop talking. The both laughed when I told them what I thought and they said maybe. I slept twelve hours straight that first night. That would be the last day I wouldn’t set an alarm. I didn’t have time to relax because my garden needed to be tended to. I say garden but it was acres and acres of vegetables. My mom did as much as she could though my land needed more than one person to take care of it. It was getting so big I could use another person or two. I would hire kids around my area to help when it was crunch time. When I was in need of people to pick the fruits and vegetables before I went to the farmers market, I would hire a couple of kids from town who didn't have jobs. Our town only had a general store and a post office so usually kids had to drive to the next town which only has a few more job options, or some would ask farmers if they needed help. I had a few young kids who would ride their horses to my place when they wanted pocket money. I was happy for the cheap labor. I realized that if I wanted some of them to stick around, I was going to have to be willing to make working worth their while. My thoughts kept coming back to I needed to find someone who loved the land as much as I did. Life was so busy working I didn’t even know what end was up sometimes. I took an online class during the first summer session. I wish I would have thought to take another class during the second summer session because it would have made my life a little easier during the school year. I liked the online class because I could work at my own speed. I finished before the deadline and thought that was easy. I was sitting at the table with my laptop working on my class schedule for the rest of my college career when Scott plopped down next to me. I could tell he wanted to talk so I finished up my work and saved it. “What’s up?” I said looking at him dead on. “I don’t want to bother you, but I have been thinking about your plan with your business. Do you mind if we go into some detail about where you are heading?” “Sure, though I think we have really talked my plan to death. Scott just come out and tell me is there something wrong with my plan? You can tell me. I am a big girl and I can take it.” I leaned in to show him I was open to whatever he had to tell me. He has been nothing but helpful since the day we met. “I really think, if you want to expand what you are doing, that you need someone working for you besides your mom. Would you be interested in hiring me?” He hesitated a little, “You know that I graduate next year, and I think I have something to offer you in your business. Maybe you would be interested in a partner?” I was nineteen years old, and I had someone who wanted to be my partner because he liked what I was doing. The feeling I had when he suggested him being my partner got me all excited. I just said over and over, “YES!” My dad came in from the barn and my mom came down the hall when I was saying yes. I explained what happened very quickly and my mom was saying yes just as much as I did. Both my parents were so happy because they saw that I had the potential for making a good living being an organic farmer, but it was going to kill me before I got started. I definitely needed more than just my mom to help me. Since Tina was sleeping in as she did every Saturday morning in August, I was making breakfast for everyone else. If we waited until Tina got up, we would be eating lunch. We finished eating and were sitting around the table talking about my classes for next year and Scott was all antsy. Finally, he spoke up. “Mr. Deigert, I would like your permission to marry your daughter.” Mom and dad looked at each other and smiled. I guess they really liked him. “Scott, do you really love her?” “Mr. Deigert, I never imagined love could be like this. Yes, sir with my whole heart. The only issue I have is whether I will make enough money for us to live on. I want to farm like you. Well, more like Tessa. Sir, I think Tessa and I could take her ideas and run with them. We just need more land as I see it.” These were the words I wanted to say but had been afraid to approach my dad until I graduated. Maybe having a partner who spoke his mind was not a bad thing. “Well, Scott, I have been thinking about all the changes Tessa has made and thought I am getting too old to change all of my ways. Her mom and I have been thinking when Tessa graduates, we will give her this house and all of my acres and move in with my mom and just farm her land.” My mouth dropped and I was at a loss for words for a change. When mom and dad got married grandpa split his land and gave dad half of it. They still farmed together but mom and dad were responsible for the taxes and upkeep of their land. Dad’s sisters had no interest in farming and had moved away. Aunt May lived in Florida and Aunt June lived in California. We rarely saw them. “How about this? I give the land to Tessa and Tina will get the house that way you will always have a roof over your head. You will never be able to sell it though unless Tessa says it is okay. Of course, Tessa can live here until she builds her own house somewhere on this land.” “Mr. Deigert, that is very generous of you. Tessa, are you okay with this?” “Scott I can’t wait until you marry Tina and get her out of my bed. Just to warn you, she hogs the covers. Other than that, she is great. I think we will be great partners.” Scott got up and hugged me. Mom and dad, not wanting to be left out, got up to hug Scott and me. We were all hugging when Tina came into the kitchen. “What am I missing out on? Why are you all hugging?” I didn’t know what Scott’s plan was, so I spoke up. “Scott and I are becoming business partners.” “Scott, you finally asked her. Oh, Tessa he will be such a hard worker just wait and see.” Tina came up and gave Scott a hug and then turned and gave me a hug. I smiled at Scott, and he shook his head no like don’t worry about it. Then I saw him pull a ring box out of his jeans and he got down on one knee. I turned Tina around to face Scott. “Tina, I have thought long and hard how I would ask the love of my life to marry me. I thought she would want her sister and parents around and I hope I am right. Tina Louise Deigert, would you do me the honor of marrying me and making my life complete?” The squeal probably was heard all the way down to the Richards and Grandma’s. “Yes, yes, yes,” was all that was coming out of her mouth. I was so happy for them…for me too. I was getting a brother and a partner. I thought my life was pretty good. Tina on the other hand was worried about me. Later that night as we were going to bed Tina begged me to find someone so we could have our children together. “Aren’t you lonely? You don’t have someone to share your life with, Tessa. Please start dating, for me.” “First, I am not lonely. I don’t have time to be lonely. I am working my butt off at school and when I come home, I don’t stop. Second, I share my life with you. I don’t think I have gone a day without texting or talking to you. Don’t forget I went out on dates with Jonah.” The nudge I got from her told me she knew there was nothing going on between the two of us. “Okay, I will think about dating if it makes you happy.” Tina pulled the covers off me which made me take my pillow and hit her. That action started a pillow fight like we had when we were younger. We were making so much noise that dad opened our door to see if we were okay. He yelled to my mom, “Honey our girls have gone nuts.” Tina swung her pillow and hit him in the gut. Dad left the room and brought back his pillow, and mom came running in after him with her pillow not wanting to be left out of our family pillow fight. Mom finally said, “We give up.” Scott was leaning on the door watching us and we hadn’t even noticed him standing there. “I love this family.” As dad past Scott, dad hit him on the back of his head with a pillow. “Welcome to the family Scott.” Life goes on My sophomore year I decided I could graduate early if I took just one more class a semester and a few online classes in the summer. I could take the online at home as long as the internet didn’t get interrupted. I only had a few issues so as long as I stayed ahead of deadlines, I should be good. Maybe I could talk my dad into a better service. My advisor was against the overload, but because some of my classes could be credits for both my major and minor, I thought that would help me graduate earlier. I still wanted to take classes in the culinary arts, and I wondered if I could get my associate degree so I would have the credentials for being a chef. I really didn’t need the business part because I was already working on my business in agriculture. I really thought my culinary classes were my extracurricular activity. To be honest with myself everything was so easy for me. I just had to put the work in to get the degree so businesspeople would take me seriously when I talk to them about my products. Some weeks seemed to blend together. I didn’t know how I did it, but I was still making the dean’s list at winter break. I knew I was going to go home and sleep for a week. Tina and Scott came home for part of the break and spent a good deal with Scott’s dad. I apologized to Scott because I had missed his mom’s funeral. Mrs. Turner died after a massive heart attack. I had an exam that was a fourth of my grade and my parents told me that since I had never met her to just send Scott and Mr. Turner a card telling how sorry I was to miss her celebration of life. That was what they called it because she was always the life of the party. Mom and Dad invited Mr. Turner to our house for Christmas dinner. He and his wife had never come out to the farm before. Mr. Turner was always too busy to come. Well, Scott insisted that his dad had to at least come out to the farm for dinner. I thought it was my duty to make it the best Christmas dinner ever. I had picked up a few tips from my classes and was ready for a Christmas dinner gathering.My dad’s words were ‘my, you have put on a spread here.’ I went all out to make a fabulous dinner with table decorations and all. We started with a butternut squash soup. The butternuts were from my garden. I made a standing rib roast, garlic smashed potatoes and green beans, with a Caesar salad, homemade dinner rolls and for dessert I made a buche de noel. When I was cutting the dessert, I thought about Chase as I do every time I made it. I wondered what he was doing or where he was living? Mr. Turner was very impressed with the dinner. He suggested that I could open up my own restaurant if I wanted to give up the farm. Everyone laughed because they knew my answer…never. I would never give up on my farm. It hurt me to be at school and being away from it. We made a ton of food during the holiday. Mr. Turner kept telling me to call him Scott, which I couldn’t do. It was too weird. He called our Scott, Scottie. He was not a Scottie to me or anyone else. Mr. Turner was so happy to be with us, but you could see the strain on his face if someone brought up Mrs. Turner’s name. I felt bad for him. Since Scott wanted to live out here instead of staying with his dad that added to his pain. I knew being an only child had to be hard on Scott. I didn’t know what I would do without Tina. I knew my parents had us later in life. Dad always said he couldn’t get married because he was waiting for our mom to come to him. Mom came to our part of the world to start over. She had been married to a man who had died in a car accident. She met my dad at our church social because one of the other teachers invited her. It was love at first sight for my dad. It took my mom a little while to warm up to idea of getting married again. I was sure they would have had more children if they had met earlier. It was kind of sad because they were the best parents. My spring semester went by in a flash. My mom was so worried about me because I looked awful. She didn’t say awful, but I could see myself in the mirror and knew that it was true. If I didn’t come home on the weekends, I would never have sunshine on my face. I had not kept my promise to Tina. I did not have one date the whole school year. I saw Jonah once in the library and we talked for a half hour. Maybe I could say that it was a date. I promised I would do better in my last year. We all went to Scott’s graduation which was fun. My parents spent the night in a hotel, and you would have thought they were on their honeymoon. It was so cute to see them having fun and flirting with each other. I hoped I could have that someday. Flirting was so much fun. I just hoped you didn’t lose the ability to flirt if you didn’t use it. I slept in my sister’s dorm room. She was taking summer classes again so she could graduate next year. She was a little jealous that I knew what I wanted before I started college, and now I would graduate with her. I just hoped they were not on the same day because I didn’t want to miss seeing her get her diploma. We all went out to a fancy restaurant and Mr. Turner was so nice because he said my food was so much better. I was just glad he paid the bill. He didn’t like that we all ordered the cheapest thing on the menu. He kept saying, “I said I was paying for this dinner, and I want you to get what you want.” To make up for it he ordered a bunch of appetizers. Tina ended up with part of mine and mom’s dinner to take back to the dorm. Three little birds Scott and I came back to the farm after his graduation and started working on a plan for what we wanted to accomplish in the next five years. I told him I couldn’t plan much farther and we could revisit our plan in a couple of years if we felt like we were going in the wrong direction. I had to admit I didn’t like changing horses in midstream. It was one of my flaws. We decided to add a few animals to the farm. Scott wanted to add Pekin ducks to the mix because their meat was the preferred duck meat and he was confident that we could start supplying a few restaurants and if it were profitable, we could add a larger flock. We had a lake and a couple of ponds around the barn and since the cows were moved a few years ago to grandma’s property both of the ponds were looking a lot healthier. The lake was behind the house, so the cows never were bathing or doing other stuff in it. Scott professed, “Tessa, I have done my research I promise you. I think they will provide more income than expenses by far. There is some time that has to be spent when they are hatched and for the first three months but after that if we train them where their habitat is they take care of themselves.” “Train them? You want us to train the ducks?” “Oh, these ducks learn a routine and they want to stick to that routine. If I get everything set up, we won’t have a problem.” “You know I won’t be back full time until next year. Do you think you can handle getting everything ready?” “Yes, I can work on the pens and shelters for the emus at the same time.” “Did your dad look over the contract for the loan to make sure we were getting the best deal?” “I wanted to talk to you about that.” It was my biggest worry and now he was scaring me. “My dad said he is ready to sell the big house and move into a condo. He isn’t entertaining anymore, and he hates being in that big house all alone. As it is he doesn’t spend but about five hours at night when he sleeps. He wants to give me the money from the sale after he buys his condo. The problem is we don’t know how long it will take for the house to sell so we might have to wait a little while. Then we could be real partners.” I was flabbergasted and when I recovered, I shoved him in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you start with this! I really didn’t want to get a loan. I was only doing it because you thought we should.” “Well, I did want a loan, but dad didn’t tell me his idea until the night of my graduation.” I shoved him again, “I can’t believe you waited two days to tell me this.” I looked down at the table then looked up at him. “You know this doesn’t bode well with me, your keeping something this big from me.” “I have to tell you the truth. I was scared to tell you because the house is worth a couple of million dollars and all the furnishings are probably another million.” My mouth dropped and all I could muster was, “Oh.” “I promise I will never keep something this big or small from you again. I am guessing by your reaction Tina didn’t say anything about how much my family is worth. This really proves she loves me for me and not my money.” “Wow, she never said anything about you being from money. She did tell me you have a beautiful home and it was huge plus she would hate to have to clean it. She hates cleaning our house, so I really didn’t think it was that big.” I gave a nervous chuckle because of how much he was worth. Scott chuckled too, “Your sister is something else.” “Yes, she is. Look, by the way, I don’t expect you to Scott was shaking his head, “Since you have put in all the money for the land and prepping it, how about I put up the money for the fencing and shelters for the ducks and the emus.” I was shaking my head no. “Yes, you don’t realize how much you have already put in plus all your sweat equity has to count, don't forget. We have to come up with a new name for the bird’s part but we could leave the Deigert for the produce. You have been doing this for six years now and have a growing clientele. We could put up the bird's name under my name until we get big enough to have another company name. As far as an agreement I think my marriage contract will be enough for me. I plan on spending quality time with my wife so she will never want to leave me. I know I will never want to leave her.” “You two are almost as gross as my parents. I am glad you found her. Now, how about we name the bird part of the company Turner birds or something like that. I think it’s only fair that your name is a part of our company like mine. We could come up with a company that incorporates these two and we can draw a paycheck from them. I know it would be nice to stop putting every penny I make back into the farm. I would like to travel a bit. How about you?” “I know your sister wants a nice honeymoon. She says that after she graduates in May, she will need a rest, and she wouldn’t mind if it is on a beach somewhere.” “I know what she means. I have one more year of ball busting work. I don’t know if I will be able to come back much this fall because I have so much work to finish my culinary degree.” I gave a sigh. Scott looked at me with concern, “Why are you getting a culinary degree? You are the best cook I know. You don’t need a degree for that.” “I don’t need a degree for what I am doing now.” I was being a little shy but I really wanted to tell Scott my idea. “Touché. Do I have to worry that you will get tired of farming and want to be a chef?” He gave little nervous chuckle. Then looked at me with concern written all over his face. “Well, if I tell you, you will understand why you can’t say anything to Tina. If you don’t want me to tell you, tell me now. Though I am dying to tell you.” I was squirming in my seat, waiting and hoping he could keep a secret from Tina. “Okay as long as you know if she asks me about what you are going to tell me I won’t lie to her.” “Fair enough, I have been thinking about buying out The Crow’s Nest and making it a farm to table restaurant. I think my business degree will help with the running of the restaurant too. When you suggested emus, I was ready to jump on board. I learned about their meat in class: how it tastes like lean beef but is higher in protein with less cholesterol. As you pointed out, the fat pad on their back is a wanted oil in many industries so this investment is a good one. I know to make a profit the cost will be higher than beef. That said, we will have to convince the public that emu meat is better for them in all ways.” I saw how excited he was just by looking in his eyes though he hadn’t said a word. “So, what do you think, you aren’t saying anything.” “I am trying to get under control before I say anything! This makes me so happy, and I know your sister will be happy. I totally get why you don’t want to tell her yet, until you are sure.” “This is why I want a paycheck so I can save for the restaurant.” “Hey, I would so invest in your restaurant. I know my dad would love it if you would open a restaurant too. He has been telling me that you should be a chef not a farmer. This farm to table is so in. We could make it a destination restaurant. We will have to put up ads in St. Louis papers and radio stations.” “Hey, you are getting carried away. I haven’t said I was ready yet.” I liked how Scott was there to support me but it was too soon. Though with how excited he was it was hard for me not to jump at the chance. I had to have him take a step back. “Oh, right. See I told you I am so excited by your confession I could hug you. Hell, I am going to hug you.” He came over and gave me a huge hug. My dad came in just as he was hugging me. “Hey, isn’t one daughter enough for you.” “Oh, I am hugging my wonderful partner because she said yes to raising Pekin ducks and Emus. I am going to be The Birdman. We will offer free range chicken, duck and emu eggs. Though it will be a while before we have the latter two. We have to build up to that.” He smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. Scott and I were now both going over to Mr. Preston’s to help him with his farm. We only went over there every couple of weeks to make sure he was letting the land come back to what it should be. The field that was across the road from the house he was letting become a hay field. This property butted up to Mr. Richards’ property. He was worried that some of their chemicals would come onto his land. I told him that we would get the soil tested to see how much spray came across to his property. We suggested that he let a strip of land become a natural barrier. He could plant trees and plants that are native to this area of Missouri. That suggestion made him feel better. Mrs. Preston was looking healthier than the last time I saw her; she has gained back some of the weight she lost and she had color back in her complexion. She wore a scarf with a straw hat like my grandma wears to garden in. I saw whisps of fine hair peeking out around her face so she hadn’t lost all of her hair. I was happy for her and Mr. Preston.

< Back Bookshelf Kimberly Caristi Nov 3, 2025 This isn’t an amazing picture at all! The importance of this picture is to show most of my cookbooks and the stories behind them. Many of them are from our 2008 study abroad when my husband took U.S. students to Italy to do a documentary on Italian food. My job on these trips were to help students stay with the group during tours. If you haven’t heard the term herding cats, nailing jelly to the wall or pouring water into a sieve you should try to keep thirty young adults following one person who is talking in a normal voice about what took place a thousand years ago while there are cars and motorcycles zipping by, tens or twenty different directions they could go, windows filled with pastries, clothes, perfumes, art, jewelry, or things they have not seen before and you will totally understand the before mentioned phrases. I was grateful that I have an uncanny ability to know how to get to places I have been told about, read about or drove by it once. In these travels I have been pulled away from the group by following a student who just had to go the bathroom, tied a shoe, just had to take a picture and probably a dozen other things and I have never lost a student and found the group in a timely matter. I have had one misstep but it wasn’t all my fault and I will leave that for another photo later on. I will tell you I have never lived it down and every time we get together with our Italian director, him and my husband love to retell the tale. I have gotten off track and need to bring it back to the cookbooks. I have really came into my own after that trip and finding all these cookbook neatly stacked in my kitchen. First, you should know we did buy them ourselves and let the students use them. Second, I realized I could make a recipe my own, meaning taking a recipe and adding this or that to it and it still be good. I had always known I could do that with baking as long as I didn’t throw off the fats, dry ingredients and liquids balance. I can bake for anyone but now I felt I could cook for Americans and do a pretty good job of making something that they would like, for Europeans I know I should make something less sweet (no applesauce with the pork but greens.) I can cook for Asians but I am not sure how to bake for them. Sad to say I have never had the opportunity to cook for anyone from Africa. I haven’t hosted them in my home…yet. I always do research on food from their area before we host someone. I never tell them it is their food because no one can cook exactly like their family. Example, I cooked what I thought was Chinese and our Chinese guest said “What do you call this Kim? It almost taste like Chinese.” Being that our guest was from Szechuan province and their spice level was quite a bit higher than ours I took that as a compliment. We had a guest from Slovenia who said she loved everything that came out my large saucepan. These cookbooks gave me the experience to experiment and I fell in love with cooking just as much as baking. Our friends noticed a difference. I have always had about a half a dozen recipes for a dinner that I used repeatedly. When I started mixing it up they took notice. When we started donating dinners our community notice that I was not just a chocolate nut or a baker. I have had two articles written about me on those subjects. I make my own truffles and for our Christmas party each year I would make about a dozen different cookies, a half a dozen bars, a half dozen other pastries plus a dozen different chocolates. I did offer other non-sweet items. The first few years of our marriage it was all store bought with a few personal bakes. I kept challenging myself to go bigger until it got too big. To make us feel a little better about all this over indulgence everyone invited were to bring dry goods for the food pantry in town. I look forward to sharing my recipes with you as time goes on. This past last month we have been travelling. I hope to get my photo albums up soon. We traveled through eleven states. North Dakota was our 48th contiguous state to visit and we got to it this time. We also got to see the head waters of the Mississippi river and I got to stand in it. I was so excited. We stayed in a cabin without a television, even more important no internet. We taught ourselves a new game of cards and the silence almost drove my husband nuts. I have to say I did miss the internet. I wish you all safe travels even if it is just to the grocery store to buy a new ingredient. Previous Next

The Diner tells the story about a young hard working woman who usually thinks with her head instead of her heart until she meets Dante when she travels to Sicily. Written by Kimberly Caristi Life is hard and worst of all lonely for Sandra. You wouldn't know it because she doesn't let the struggles she has define her. She has a smart and level head on her shoulders. When Dante comes along he tries to make her think with her heart instead of her head. Sitting on a plane with an almost one-year-old on her lap made Sandra nervous. How was she going to manage a day of traveling with Carinu? She thought she had enough food and toys to keep him busy when he wasn’t sleeping. Who knew what would keep a busy one year old occupied on his first trip out of their small town? They rarely got in a car so she wondered if he would sleep in his new car seat. The woman seated on the other side of his car seat seemed to be tickled pink entertaining him. Carinu was used to strangers so he was flirting with her and enjoying the attention he was receiving. Sandra’s life was made of one change after another. She was getting tired of having to readjust her life. Why couldn’t she have a "normal” life? Poor Carinu has had such a sad beginning and to be saddled with a name like Carinu in a small midwestern town, his life was going to be a challenge. Children are mean, Sandra knew that through her own experience. Having a name that children could make fun of was a noose around your neck. Sandra vowed Carinu wouldn’t have her life. She would make sure of that. A New Experience She thought she was crazy taking on this challenge, but she had made a promise and she had put it off long enough. She assumed the money was coming from his father but there was only a bank’s name on the checks. She needed whoever it was to stop sending it. Carinu and her were doing well enough on their own. The woman sitting next to Carinu said, “Excuse me but we are about to take off. Do you have something for your baby to suck on?” Flustered, I said, “Oh, Mrs. Miller told me to make sure he had his pacifier. Thank you for reminding me. I have never flown before and my head is elsewhere.” Sandra dug in his baby bag and pulled out the pacifier. Carinu grabbed it with his chubby little hand quickly and stuck it in his mouth. She had been trying to wean him of his fi, as he called it. Sandra was worried about his teeth. They were a challenge breaking through his gums so she didn’t want to cause anything to go wrong with his teeth now that they were little buds of white. They were adorable. Mrs. Miller told me not to take the pacifier totally away until after their trip to Italy. He hadn’t made a fuss being put into his car seat. That action made Sandra have one less thing to worry about. Everything was new to Carinu so he was being entertained just looking around. Leshay introduced herself. It was easy talking to her. She was very motherly and pulled out my whole life story on our flight to New York. Lenape, Indiana “Hi, I am Sandra Penny.” That was the only thing I wished I could change out of my young life. Kids were mean when they teased me about my last name. I didn’t have much, so with a last name like Penny they would either joke that I didn’t have two pennies to rub together, or they would find a penny and give it to me telling me now I had a penny to my name. I have no idea what my dad’s name was and I didn’t care unless he had a really cool name. My mom had followed him here with the promise of marriage as soon as he made it big. As soon as he found out my mom was pregnant with me, he left for some cigarettes and never returned. I thought if he didn’t care about us enough to stick around, he wasn’t worth my time to wonder about him. My mom quickly found a job at an insurance company as a secretary when she had moved to Lenape. When she realized that he wasn’t coming back she told herself she could raise me on her own. Anytime I would ask about my family my mom would say we were family enough and didn’t need anyone. Once when I was ten, she did admit that this small town of Lenape, Indiana was not enough for my father. The town was not the prettiest place in Indiana, but it was all I ever needed. My mom made sure I felt loved and not alone. On payday we would go to Sanders’ diner three blocks away from our house for a treat. The minute you walked into the diner, the first thing you smelled was cinnamon and vanilla…the smell of cinnamon rolls which had to be their big seller. Nothing smells better in my opinion. If nothing came up that cost money during the month, we would have a real meal there. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders were so sweet to us. On those occasions when we had dinner, they would give us a free dessert. Mr. Sanders often joked that he needed help and looked forward to the day when I would be able to work for them. I always asked, “Would Mrs. Sanders show me how to make those cinnamon rolls then?” One day Mrs. Sanders said, “You know when you are big enough to come here on your own, I will teach you how to make the cinnamon rolls.” I jumped up and with my hands in the praying position, I said, “Do you pinky promise?” My mom and I would always make pinky promises. My mother usually kept those promises. I knew sometimes I had asked too much and before my mom had to break the promise, I would say I didn’t want it anymore. I wasn’t always that good about realizing what our situation was. As time passed, I noticed how worried my mom was when she paid our bills. I didn’t want to add to her burden, so I stopped asking for things that cost money. Truth be told, we were pretty good at having fun without spending money. We started the tradition of going to the library on weekends after Mr. and Mrs. Sanders would ask me what I was reading when we visited. When we got home, we would curl up on the couch together and read our book. When we went back to Sanders, I would tell them all about the book I had picked out at the library. They would ask me questions that made me think. Mom and I were falling in love with the Sanders more each time we saw them. How could we not? They were the nicest people and made mom and me feel like we mattered. Sad to say no one else made us feel that way. My mom’s boss was the worst. Mr. Malcom treated my mom with so much disdain. When I would have to go there if we had a day off from school, he treated me like I was the stupidest child he knew. I was scared of him. He was bald with these big bushy eyebrows that almost connected. The way that he looked at me made me so nervous he would make me stutter when he asked me a question. When he came to our house my mom would tell me to go to my room and lock the door. That didn’t help my being scared of him. Sometimes he would hit my mom while he was there. It was hard for me not to come out and yell at him but my mom made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t come out. When I got older, I asked my mom why she didn’t work somewhere else. Her reply was always the same. “Nobody would want to hire me. I don’t have an education.” That conversation would lead us into talking about me going to college and getting an education so I didn’t have to work with a Mr. Malcom type. Truthfully before I was old enough to legally work Mr. Sanders hired me to bus tables and do light cleaning. It was the highlight of my day. I loved school but going to Sanders I loved the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Sanders. The clientele of the diner were so nice too. They were mainly college people, administrators, professors and students and such a variety of colors and races. I cherished the days that I got to be at the diner. Everyone was welcomed and everyone got along. I couldn’t wait until I got to go to the university so I could belong to something besides my small world; a little home, a couple of friends, and a mom who loved me dearly. My mom loved to give me hugs when I came home from work. “I love you smelling like cinnamon and vanilla. It’s so much better than smelling like copier ink and paper.” She would pull me in and take a deep breath. She hugged me all the time but on workdays she would hold onto me longer. I loved it. I wanted more for my mom than just work and the little life she led. She didn’t get to go to Sanders and listen to people talking about everything in the world. I overheard people talking about where they lived in the world or where they traveled for business. I kept a pad of paper in my pocket and would write down the places I heard about, then I would go to the library to learn all about them. I found it so interesting when I heard about politics and not in the way you do on television. Real debates that were interesting and there were no fights. Once I heard a couple of people talking about the sculptures at the art gallery on campus. I made sure that would be our next trip with my mom. I just had to see what they were talking about. My mom loved walking through the art museum. We would talk about how we would feel if we were walking in a particular painting. It became our favorite game to play and when I started adding money to our income we could visit more often. The museum was free. I had added enough money to our household that my mom didn’t have to bring work home and Mr. Malcom didn’t visit us as often. I started helping manage the house so my mom and I would have more free time when I was in middle school. I would get books at the library to help me know how to clean, cook and organize our little life. We shopped at thrift stores to find bargains galore. My mom made friends with one of the workers at our favorite place to shop and she would call my mom when a particular woman would drop off her business clothes so my mom could get something beautiful to wear. Mom worked very hard to keep them looking lovely. Even though they were dry clean only, mom washed them very carefully and pressed them on her own. Once we even got a new couch for my mom to sleep on. We couldn’t figure out why someone would throw away such a beautiful couch. I knew my mom was sleeping better when she didn’t make such awful sounds when she got up in the morning. When I was old enough to work as a waitress I was in heaven. When I got my first paycheck, I took the bus to the store to buy paint. Our house was in need of painting in the worst way. I learned how to prep the walls, apply the paint and how to clean up or better yet make sure I didn’t make a mess while painting. My mom made sure that I learned about that first. I started with painting the family room. I thought my mom deserved to have her room painted first. She needed to feel better about our place. Mom would make comments all the time about how she wished that our house were nicer. I always commented that we didn’t need anything more than what we had. We had already pulled the carpet out of the house a couple years ago when my mom came home from work all mad. The stain in the middle of the carpet that had been there all the time I could remember pissed her off. She pulled back the corner of the carpet and saw we had hardwood underneath it. She had me pull all the furniture into the kitchen while she got busy pulling out the carpet. When we finished the family room we started in my bedroom. Boy was it dusty in there. Mom made us wear scarves while we did it. I was glad it wasn’t in the middle of summer or the yarn from our winter scarves would have been unbearable. We washed down the walls and the floor when we were done. It looked like we had a whole new place. Yes, the floors needed more work but it made the place look bigger somehow. The next paycheck mom bought stuff to rejuvenate the floors to their former glory. That was how I got the idea that when I had enough money to buy paint I would. I got pretty handy taking care of the house. It impressed my mom. I was getting so good my mom thought we were more like partners instead of mom and daughter. I was preparing myself to take over everything and I didn’t know it. I knew my mom was moving slower my senior year of high school. She wasn’t that old but I could tell something was wrong. A couple of times I took her to work because she thought I should have the clunker that we called our “car.” We had pooled our money for the last couple of years to buy a used car. My mom thought I should learn to drive and you need your own car to do that. Usually, my mom would walk to work but that year she asked if I minded if she drove. My mom’s last day of work I went to pick her up and I had to help her out to the car. I hated that Mr. Malcom made fun of her, “If your worthless mother doesn’t shape up, I am going to have to fire her.” I couldn’t say anything. My mom just mumbled she was sorry. I wanted my mom to go to the doctor and she said they couldn’t help her. While I made her a bowl of chicken soup, we argued about it. She pinky swore that if she didn’t feel better in the morning, she would go see a doctor. When I got up in the morning she was gone. I tried desperately to wake her. It took a minute of shaking her before I gave up and laid my head on her stomach and cried. Finally, I ran down to Sanders, instantly they knew something was wrong. Mrs. Sanders came back with me while Mr. Sanders called 911. It was a sad goodbye. Everyone at Sanders pitched in for the burial. The day of the funeral Mr. and Mrs. Sanders stayed for dinner. There was a knock at the front door and Mr. Sanders brought in Mr. Malcom, he came by to deliver a check. As one of my mom’s perks for working for him he gave her a small life insurance policy. He was a sleaze ball but he was nice enough to give me the policy money. He tried to tell me I should take my mom’s place at his office and Mr. Sanders happily pushed him out the door telling him I was in mourning and thanked him for the check. Mr. Sanders yelled at Mr. Malcolm as he was walking down the stairs to the sidewalk. “Sandra will never work for you as long as I am alive to prevent it!” Mrs. Sanders just laughed. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders were commenting about how cute the inside of my house was. Mom and I never had anyone over. If you walked by the house, you would think it would be a mess on the inside. We just didn’t have the energy to take care of it. We tried our best but it still looked rundown. It was our next project to tackle, we would say. “Okay Sandra what is your next step?” “What do you mean?” I had no idea what Mr. Sanders was talking about. “Can you stay in this house?” “Yes.” “Can you afford the payments? Do you have a landlord?” “Oh, we almost have it paid off. The only thing my mom said that my dad did right beside me.” Just saying those words made me smile for the first time since I found my mom. My mom would give me a hug when we talked about how little we had left to pay off the house. “He had put a large chunk of money down on the house when he moved here. My mom just took over the payments. My mom talked to the bank about it and they took off my dad’s name. We have two payments left and it will be all mine.” I started fiddling with the napkin in my lap. “My mom must have known she was sick because about a year ago she changed the title of the house to my name. She said she didn’t want me to have to worry about having a place to live.” A tear started rolling down my face. “She made me pinky swear that she could live here as long as she wanted when I started asking her about why I have to worry since the house would be hers. She made a joke about it.” I stood up. “Thank you for all that you have done and for all the food you brought me. I don’t know how I will eat it all but knowing me I will give it a good try.” I gave a weak smile, wiped away a tear and excused myself. When I came out of my room Mrs. Sanders was still in the kitchen organizing the leftovers into storage bags and containers. She must have gone down and got them at the diner. We sat and talked about where I was going from here. Mrs. Sanders made me promise that I would go to the school counselor for help with planning my college career. It was hard to go back to school after my mother died. Everyone knew, somehow. My teachers were all very nice and lenient. I only missed a week. Instead of getting a job I went back to school because Mrs. Sanders reminded me that my mom always talked about me going to college. I needed to get back to work fulfilling my mother’s dream of me graduating from college. The counselor looked at my transcripts and was very pleased that I had straight ‘A’s.’ I didn’t like that she made a comment that she was surprised by them even though I had been taking honors courses all four years. Maybe it was because she looked me up and down as she said it. Just because I was poor didn’t mean that I wasn’t smart. She knew my mother had just died and asked who was in charge of me. I wasn’t pleased with how she was talking to me so I might have been a little snippy with her when I told her I was in charge of me. She called a social worker and tomorrow after school I was to meet with her at my house. I wasn’t sure why I needed a social worker: I was eighteen. I got a pamphlet worth of paperwork from the counselor and she thought I had a good chance of getting some scholarships and aid for going to school. She asked where I was going to go to college. I looked at her like she was crazy. “I am staying in town and going here. Why would I go anywhere else? This university has everything I need and I can live in my house while I go to school?” She said, “With your situation you probably can go anywhere. Are you sure your dad can’t help you?” Why did people think I knew my dad or he was anywhere around? Wouldn’t you think I would be telling them I will be moving in with my dad until I graduate from high school? I was still filling out all the paperwork my counselor gave me when the social worker arrived to interrogate me. Interrogate might be a strong word for what transpired while she was there, nonetheless that was what it felt like. She was surprised that the inside of my house looked way better than the outside. What can I say? I hate yard work! I liked polishing the woodwork because it brought things back to life. Mowing and trimming did not. I would like to paint the house but we didn’t have a ladder to get to the high places. Seriously, all the scraping to get off the peeling paint seemed too daunting. Mom and I would make all these excuses ending with, “we will tackle it next year.” I have learned from her death that putting things off was not always the best plan of tackling unpleasant tasks, though I still did it. After the social worker looked around the house we sat and talked about my future. Not the distant future but the next few months until I graduate from high school. I was glad I was already eighteen because that kept me from going into foster care. I showed her the few bills I had, our bank account information. She told me that I would get a puny lump sum from the IRS then start to get social security money but she wasn’t sure it would be enough to live on. I saw the concern on her face. It was a little unsettling, nevertheless I thought I had this. When I worked, I got a meal. I got free lunches at school though I knew that would end soon. The more I thought about it I was sure I was going to have no problems. The life insurance policy would pay for the property taxes and any surprise expenses for at least fifteen years. Looking at the paperwork from the school counselor, I was going to have to work harder on getting scholarships. I had to write five scholarship essays. I was glad I could write about myself but one wanted me to write about if all the people in the world were blue and I was green what would I do. I still used the essay about myself. Working at the diner would keep me afloat and I always got good tips. The Sanders’ other two waitresses, Judy and Gail, had been at the diner since the beginning. Judy kept saying she should retire and move where her grandkids were living. Her husband passed away about ten years ago. Gail was still married to the same man for almost forty years. They talk about retiring in Florida someday. I hope they made it to retirement because they looked old. I would hear all about her resting bitch face when I would take her shift. People at the dinner didn’t complain much except about Gail. She wasn’t a bad waitress - it was just that she had nothing nice to say to anyone. Every time I got a scholarship, I would run down to the diner to tell Mr. and Mrs. Sanders. We would add things up on the chalkboard in the kitchen. When my counselor told me how much aid I would be getting because I was low income, Mrs. Sanders put that amount on the board. At the top was the cost to go to the university and we just kept subtracting. The day I got enough money we celebrated with pie a’ la mode. Mrs. Sanders and I made faces when Mr. Sanders wanted his pie with mint chocolate chip ice cream instead of vanilla. Graduation day came and I didn’t have anyone there to cheer me on. I tried not to cry as I sat down after receiving my diploma. Rose was sitting next to me and she handed me a tissue, “Here, I thought I might cry too. I think I surprised my family that I actually graduated.” I took the tissue gratefully as the tears couldn’t be stopped. “Thanks,” squeaked out of me. “What are you going to do now? I haven’t decided. I want to go somewhere other than this stupid town. I might just go to Indianapolis and work in a nice shop so I can get a discount on clothing.” A teacher I didn’t know came over to tell Rose to be quiet. I was glad not to have to answer her. As it was, my classmates weren’t friendly with me and I was afraid to tell Rose I loved our town. I had plans to live out my life here and be buried next to my mom. I never dated. The curse of being teased during my elementary years continued all the way through high school. The only time a guy was nice to me was when I volunteered to answer a question he had on a paper we were assigned. Sometimes I thought a new guy would ask me out but I was too self-conscious to talk to them. My mom told me to stop worrying about what people thought about me but I had to say it was easier said than done. Judy told me that I should reinvent myself when I started college and put myself out there. I needed to date she would say over and over…again, easier said than done. Creative writing? I decided to study creative writing in college. I loved all the books I read and I wanted to transport a child to another world by books like I had been. The problem was I was not a very good writer. I couldn’t come up with ideas unless someone told me what to write about, and it was hard for me to make it to the required number of words or pages. I could talk to strangers but writing about a stranger was difficult. The one thing I learned after halfway through my second year was, I was a very good editor and all the students that sat around me would ask me to check their grammar, tell where they needed to expand on a story or what to cut out. One student told me I should work on the student newspaper. I still wasn’t dating but a couple times at the diner a guy would flirt with me. Judy said I needed to learn to flirt back. I was nice enough I just needed to toss my hair and compliment the guy. Oh, I was bad at it. I could talk about books I had read but having a meaningful conversation was embarrassing. The first time I tried to flirt I ran back to the kitchen and wouldn’t come out until he left. I tried to flirt into the mirror at home and after five minutes of trying I gave up. I was as red as a tomato and glad my mom wasn’t alive to see how sad her daughter was at flirting. A middle-aged man came into the diner often and if I had the time I would sit and talk to him about his travels and books about traveling I had read. I knew it wasn’t the same but I desperately wanted to share what I had read. Once he thought my conversation was so interesting, he took the trip I planned for him. I really didn’t plan it for him, it was something I read about and told him if I could, I would do this and this and this. He was having a hard time trying to decide what trip to take. It was between Slovakia and Slovenia and I had read a couple books on Slovenia. I wanted to go to a couple of the caves they have plus a couple of lakes I wanted to see. Two lakes that didn’t allow motorized boats on and I wanted to see the clear water of Bohinj. It was at the base of the mountain Triglav, the symbol of Slovenia. Glenn came back all excited. “Sandra, thank you for the most interesting trip I have taken. You should be a travel agent.” Mr. Sanders wasn’t happy with that statement. “Sandra is going to finish college.” I put my hand on Mr. Sanders’ arm hoping to calm him down. “Yes, I am going to finish college. You don’t have to worry. I just think Glenn is happy that I gave him a great idea. Right Glenn?” I looked at him, willing him to agree with me. Glenn didn’t want to upset Mr. Sanders any more than I did. “Yes, Sandra is right. Her knowledge of Slovenia was so dead on, even what food to eat. I guess I should have said that Sandra should share with us travelers all her insights to different cultures. Speaking of which, I brought you back a beehive board.” Glenn handed me a gift-wrapped little package. It was so pretty I didn’t want to destroy the lovely wrapping. “Oh, this is so pretty, do I have to open it?” I said half joking. I really wanted to see the painted board that they put on the beehives but I thought the wrapped package was beautiful. Glenn was a tad upset, “No, you’d better open it. I want to see your expression when you see the painting.” I carefully unwrapped the gift and saw the board and smiled. I had no idea what to say. I wanted to say why did you get it for me but instead said, “Thank you very much. You didn’t have to get me a gift.” “That is you milking the cow. While one guy is saying the cow is mine and pulls the horns, another guy is pulling the tail saying the cow is mine. You are saying I don’t care; I will just milk it. I watch you with the customers fighting over things. Granted you are being nice but they think they are right and you come in and tell them how it is. I saw this and wanted you to have it. Besides, I could get it home without breaking it. I am glad you talked me out of over packing but that didn’t leave me much room for gifts.” “Did you bring old clothes so you could leave them there?” I told him if he weren’t going anywhere nice, he could bring clothes that should be thrown away and just leave them there so he would have room for souvenirs. He looked down, “No, I brought new clothes, and I couldn’t part with them. As I was packing to come home, I thought of your words and wished I had taken your advice.” On my break I looked at his pictures. Oh, how I wish I were the one that took them. Judy and Gail both think he had a crush on me. He always wanted me to wait on him. I thought he was a nice man who liked me as a person. He was over twice my age and I didn’t think I wanted someone that old to date. “You have some beautiful pictures there.” I handed him back his phone. “You should print a couple of them.” “You know I almost got you a panel with two women trying to get their legs into a pair of men’s pants. Whoever got them on got to marry him. I didn’t think you were the type who would fight over a man.” He was looking at his pictures on his phone. I didn’t know what to say. I had no one to fight over. “Yes, that seems silly. I like the one you gave me. It made me feel good when you explained it to me.” “I wanted to get you a dove that was carved out of one piece of wood with his wings splayed out. I couldn’t figure out how to get it back without breaking the wings off. I stood in front of the man who carved it looking at it and thinking that it is beautiful but how could I get it home.” “It sounds beautiful. Again, thank you for thinking of me.” “How is your creative writing class going?” I was glad he changed the subject. “Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you. I changed my major last semester to journalism. I am the assistant editor. I am better at editing than I am at writing.” “Don’t sell yourself short. Your paper about the candle wick was good.” “Thanks, it’s just that it was a short paper. When I have to draft a story, it is like pulling teeth…painful and slow. So far, I am liking journalism. Mrs. Sanders said that it might take me a little time to find my place in this world. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders have faith in me.” “We all have faith in you Sandra. You are a smart woman. You will find your way soon enough. You take all the time you need to find what you love.” He patted my hand. I slipped my hand off the table. “I think my break is over. Thank you so much for the bee panel and for letting me see all your pictures. I am glad you had a good time. I would have felt bad if you didn’t like it.” “I loved it. The country is so beautiful. More than my pictures can convey. I hope you get to go sometime. What new place have you been reading about lately?” “Have you been to Türkiye? I have been reading about Istanbul and Ephesus. Just yesterday I picked up a book on Greece. You want to talk about beautiful! Hey, I have to go or Judy will be mad at me.” Maybe Glenn liked me as a daughter he never had. I didn’t know why he hadn’t married. He was pleasant to look at and had a nice personality. I have no idea what a professor in history made but he had money to travel so to me he made enough. The Newspaper Working on the newspaper was a little more stressful than I thought it would be. Deadlines were real. I thought getting ready for opening the diner was stressful. They didn’t even compare. I wasn’t sure if I was made to be a journalist because of how they write. It’s like the reporter works harder to write less like I worked harder to write more. I spent too much time writing and putting more information into my stories and the editor, my boss, said we had to cut part of the story. No one seemed happy with my style so I was demoted to just checking the spelling and grammar. I walked into the diner and Mrs. Sanders knew there was something wrong. It didn’t take long and I confessed that I wasn’t really happy with journalism. Mrs. Sanders called over Mr. Sanders and the three of us sat at a table to discuss what was going on. “Mr. Sanders,” and he stopped me from going any further. “Don’t you think it’s about time you call me Bob and you can call her Maureen or Mo for short.” My shoulders just sagged. “We can’t do anything about our names, it’s what our parents gave us.” He smiled a brilliant smile. “It’s not that. My mom always called you Mr. and Mrs. I think she would want me to respect you and call you by your titles.” Mr. Sanders elbowed Mrs. Sanders, “Looky here Mo, we have titles.” “You know what I mean.” Mrs. Sanders said, “Sweetheart, you show us respect every day and it’s not by calling us Mr. and Mrs. Bob, here is starting to feel old and he feels that the more people that call him mister the older he feels.” “You feel the same Mo; you can’t deny it. Look Sandra, it’s okay if you call us Mr. and Mrs. or Bob and Maureen. We just worry about you and want you to come to us if you are having trouble. We feel like we are your family. If you want to call us aunt and uncle, we would be happy with that too.” He reached over to pat my hand. I got a little bit glossy eyed. They were my family. I was lucky that they stepped up when my mom died. I knew I could talk to them about anything. It was nice that they felt the same way. “Thank you for being here for me. I have to tell you that you might get frustrated with me.” Both of them said “Never,” and each of them grabbed my hand. I shared with them about getting demoted on the newspaper. I felt so lost and they could tell I was getting frustrated. I had a feeling that they were worried that I was close to quitting. Maureen patted my hand, “Sandra do you know what you want to do with your life?” I had no idea what I wanted. “If you could wave a magic wand and you would have the life you wanted, what would it be?” I sat back in my chair and fiddled with a hangnail. I thought for a minute trying to block out what was going on around me, with little effort. Bob nudged me with his foot and I smiled. I gazed back and forth between the two of them. “If I could wave a wand first, I would wish my mom back then I would wish to be a writer.” Maureen said, “Okay, well, the magic wand doesn’t work that well. Think again.” “I really don’t need to think that much because if I can’t write I want to give kids the experience that I had with the library. I would like to own a bookstore/coffee shop where I could make pastries like you taught me. It would be nice to showcase local writers, too. Do you know where I can get a magic wand?” They both chuckled. Bob stated, “You should take some management classes to see what it takes to run a business. See if you like it,” tapping me with his foot. “It wouldn’t hurt to try it. I know I make it look so easy but it’s not. You don’t see us upstairs trying to balance the budget, ordering supplies, trying to figure out if we have made a profit and what we are going to fix or update in the coming year.” Maureen was nodding her head while Bob was talking. “Yes and buying all the aspirin for all our headaches and body aches which are superseding the headaches these days.” It was Bob’s turn to nod his head. “I will go visit my advisor. Thanks for being such great sounding boards.” I didn’t know if I would have ever thought about trying business classes. I had managed my life from a very young age. This could be my niche. Sad thing was each area that I tried. I thought that one was my niche. The first classes I took I enjoyed thoroughly. My professor had been in business and wanted a less stressful life so she decided to try teaching. She fell in love with teaching, and she was very good. She made me feel just as important as the other students in the class whose majors were business. She asked for volunteers to work on a project with her. Nobody volunteered and I didn’t know if it was the pressure that no one was raising a hand or I wanted to work on the project with her that made me slide my hand up. “Thank you, Ms. Penny. I appreciate your willingness to collaborate with me. It might lead you to a job down the road.” With that said several more hands went up. We were working on writing business plans for a couple hand-picked businesses in town. I wanted one to be a bookstore. That would help me down the road more than a nonprofit and a soap store. It was fun and nobody knew me and that didn’t matter to them. I was considered a peer. I was eating up my new area like it was chocolate covered cherries, my favorite candy. I was volunteering to the point that my job at the diner was working before the diner opened, making pastries, then doing the early morning shift. I didn’t mind smelling like the cinnamon rolls but when someone in class asked if I had eaten a pound of bacon for breakfast, I realized that I’d rather work with the customers instead of helping Maureen in the kitchen. Plus, I made a little bit more money with tips if I took orders and poured coffee. I made sure I had time to shower before class if I was working in the kitchen. I did bring in more customers when I told them I worked at Sanders Diner. My professor Ester would come in and work on her laptop during my shift. The diner wasn’t far from her office and she loved the cinnamon rolls. I gave her a little more icing because she loved it. At first, I could come back to clear her plate and you wouldn’t know she had anything on that plate. She must have taken her finger to get all the icing up. One day I introduced her to Glenn who was sitting at the next table. He was sitting alone as usual. During my break I sat down at Esther's table and asked Glenn to join us because Ester and I were talking about Slovenia. I found out from her screensaver on her laptop that she had been to Slovenia. She had taken a picture of Lake Bled. I could tell Glenn was eavesdropping, so I asked him to sit with us. The two of them were enjoying talking about the places that each had been and when they started to talk about different places, I knew I could leave them alone. I wasn’t needed to glue them together; they had the love of a foreign country that took care of it. From then on when one would come into the diner, they would search the tables looking for the other. If one was there a large smile would appear if not you saw the disappointment. Gail said I lost my gravy train. I just thought I connected two people who had a liked interest that they were eager to share with each other. I was not fooling myself. I wasn’t sure if it would lead to a romance but for the time being, they had a new friend. Nobody should be alone. I know I wasn’t a fan of being alone. When I went home to an empty house, I felt like I was the only person in the world. I haven’t gotten the nerve to ask someone out and no one has asked me out. I had hoped college would be better. The problem was I was inept at making anything but small talk. With my older customers I could carry a little more conversation. They helped because they were very free with their life stories. It was easy to ask them about their family, work or pets and they would carry the conversations. Management, the Key I declared my major as management in what should have been my junior year. One day, the diner was pretty empty and I asked Maureen and Bob to sit with me. “I don’t know what to do. I know my mom wanted me to graduate but my scholarships will only last one more year. I would have to dip into my mom’s life insurance policy, and I don’t want to do that. I think I am going to look for a full-time job.” Maureen was upset, “No you can’t do that. You need to graduate.” She called over Suzanne, who was an academic advisor. “Suzanne, can you pull up Sandra’s transcripts and see if she could graduate next year?” Suzanne moved things around to see if I could graduate in Business, Business Management or get a general degree. If I got the college of business to adjust my requirements, I could just take a couple classes this summer and graduate with a business degree. I didn’t have to take more classes for a general degree and have a minor in management. I opted for the general degree. If I wanted to or needed to get my masters in business I could do it. I will graduate with honors since I only have one ‘B’ in creative writing. The only reason I let myself get that ‘B’ was I was tired of rewriting my paper. It still haunts me to this day that I didn’t rewrite it. Suzanne was very impressed with my grades; she tried to get me to stay in college and get my masters. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Opening a coffee shop and bookstore would take a chunk of money and credit, and I have no credit unless you count my house. I would hate to put my house up for collateral. I would be scared to lose it. My senior year was a breeze, which made me appreciate that I kept what I thought would be easy classes for my last year. My stress was lessened by being on track to graduate on time. I had started calling the Sanders Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob. I just had a hard time calling them by their given name. Giving them the titles of aunt and uncle made it easier. A couple of times I slipped and called Aunt Maureen Mom; I was embarrassed. Aunt Maureen came over to give me a hug. “I feel honored that you called me mom. Sometimes I feel like I am standing in for your mom. It makes me feel all warm inside when you slip and call me mom. You know we were never blessed with children, and you are as close as we got.” I gave her a hug back. “Oh, you are my special mom. You didn’t have to go through the terrible twos with me or the teenage years when my hormones were a little out of whack. You do know that everyone here loves you as a mom, especially me.” We hugged again. I honestly did feel like I was their adopted daughter. They watched out for me, got upset and yelled at me if I (not often,) and most of all I could see they cared about me. At first, when I was feeling like they were my parents I felt melancholy. I thought my mom would have been hurt. I walked around my house talking to her and looking at the three pictures of us together. The more I talked to her, the more I thought my mom would be thrilled to know that someone was looking out for me. I had so many emotions going through me on graduation day. The Sanders had said they would come to my graduation but I didn’t think they would. I knew they would be busy that day. Why would they take the time to walk over to be bored? I was sad that my mom wasn’t there to see I fulfilled the pinky promise I made to graduate. I was proud of myself because I did it in four years and with honors. My biggest emotions were being scared at what I was going to do next. I didn’t do any internships because I had no idea where I would go. I still had our clunker of a car which I took to the store and back. I didn’t think it could have made it to Indianapolis for three months and if I had gotten the internship, would I have the money to pay for gas? I couldn’t have afforded it. I was thrilled to see the Sanders up front. They had to get there early to get those seats. They were wonderful stand-ins for parents. They couldn’t be more supportive than biological parents. In the sea of black gowns and hats they found me too. As Aunt Maureen hugged me, she said “Sandra, do you have any plans now?” “I was just going home until I had to work.” Uncle Bob put his arm around my shoulder, “Then you are coming back to the diner with us and having a meal before you have to work.” “I will go home and change first then I will come over.” “No, you look so pretty, you will add some class to the diner today. Shoot, we all will add some class to the dinner. I don’t think anyone has seen me in a suit before. I look pretty good don’t you think?” Uncle Bob was pulling on his lapels. “Oh, Uncle Bob you look so handsome and Aunt Maureen you look so beautiful in that dress. In all these years I don’t think I have seen you in anything but white clothes.” Not to let Uncle Bob get away with making a joke about their uniforms of white pants and shirt I had to add something. “You both look good in white but seeing you in colors is a lovely change.” I had to try to make them feel that they looked good because both of them were fiddling with their clothes. We were walking over to the diner and I was pleased to see classmates wave or say good luck. I was glad that I was able to say something back instead of just smiling. In reality I thought I didn’t make an impression but I guess I did. I felt pretty good when we got to the diner. I saw that the lights were off at the diner. I felt bad that the Sanders closed on one of the busiest days of the year? They walked in first and when I walked in the lights went on and a large bunch of people yelled “Surprise.” I was in total shock. After the initial jumping back against the door I bent over in what was half laughing and half crying. All the regulars were there with some spouses thrown in. The place was decorated in my school’s colors. There was a buffet with all kinds of Aunt Maureen’s special treats and sandwiches. I thought I was hugged by everyone there. I was glad I didn’t wear makeup because it would all have been down my face from all the laughing and crying I did that afternoon. I was dumbfounded by all the people I saw and all the cards I received. I would put them up around the house to remind me that people did like me and I was not alone. When everyone had left and I was helping clean up the party, Aunt Maureen called me to a table in the back that was all cleared and cleaned. Uncle Bob ushered me back telling me I wasn’t cleaning up the party that was for me. When we were all seated, I could tell that they were a little nervous which made me very nervous. I was afraid they were going to tell me I was fired so I would find my niche in life. Uncle Bob started, “Have you figured out what you are going to do now that you graduated?” I couldn’t look at them, “I thought I would work here while I try to figure out what I want to do.” I could tell that they seemed unhappy with my idea. I could be reflecting my own thoughts on them. I couldn’t look at them. I was nervous about what they were going to say and I started sweating down my back, under my arms and between my legs. I wiped my forehead with my sweaty hand. “Well, your Aunt Maureen and I have a proposition for you.” These words calmed me down instantly. “We would like to retire. Actually, everyone working here, but you, would like to retire.” He gave me a little chuckle. I didn’t understand what was so humorous about that. “We were wondering if you would like the diner?” I just looked at him in disbelief. “You know I don’t have the money for this place. I don’t think if I kept this place running with a couple workers, I could make the payments and keep this place running.” “Your Uncle Bob wasn’t clear. We want to give you the diner.” I looked at them with incredulity. “What! You can’t do that!?!” Uncle Bob sat up straight and with a broad smile said, “We don’t have children, and we desperately want to retire in a cute little bungalow where we have a yard that we can work in. We thought this would be a perfect swap. You sign over your house to us and we sign over the diner. Upstairs is a nice size two-bedroom apartment. It could be a three bedroom if you clean up the place.” “Bob, be honest with her. We have put all our energy these last ten years into the diner. We have kept the dinner and the outside of the building looking great. Our apartment upstairs has been a catch all for everything. Now, the basement would have space again if you cleaned it up. To be honest we are a couple of pack rats and everything but the diner is not that nice. We just haven’t had the energy that it would take to clean everything up. The building is in great condition. The basement is dry, which is a huge deal in this area.” “She is right. I made sure to keep everything that mattered in good condition. Of course, we have paid for the building to be in good condition. I just didn’t want to pay for the rest of it to be in good condition.” I could tell that he was embarrassed with the condition of everything but the diner. I was just as embarrassed about the outside of my place. I really was going to tackle it this year. Without the stress of school, I thought I would have the time and the energy to put into the yard. “You two know how my yard is not in the best of conditions.” I couldn’t look at them. “What am I saying? The yard is a mess but the inside is clean.” I looked up at them with some excitement which faded fast. “You know this is not an equal swap.” “We know that but like we said we have no biological children to leave this to.” Uncle Bob patted Aunt Maureen’s hand. “Mo and I think of you as our child.” Then Uncle Bob started patting my hand. “Sweetheart, we are tired of working here and when we saw your place we thought it would be perfect for us. The yard isn’t too big, and the inside is picture perfect. We will still be close enough to you that we can walk over here to have a pastry and coffee while looking at the books.” He shook my hand trying to get my eye to meet his. I just couldn’t believe it. “We want to see you have your dreams while we are still alive. If you need us, we will be here in a minute, too. Though I did promise Mo, here, a vacation to Florida when it gets cold.” Aunt Maureen had the biggest smile on her face. “We haven’t been on vacation since before you were born. That was when we had all the new plumbing and electrical work done, so we took what little money we had left and went to Tennessee to visit my sister, bless her soul.” I looked at her in disbelief. “That was before she moved back here when her health got bad.” I remember her living upstairs and helping her down and up the stairs when I started working here. It was so sad when she passed because I didn’t know how to comfort Aunt Maureen. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?” I looked at Uncle Bob with so much uncertainty. I had no clue what to say. “Shall we look at our books so you can see what you are getting into. I know you want to put a bookstore in here too so you will be losing some seating and income. Maybe you can be more creative with the space than we were. Not having a full meal, you might lose some income that way too.” Then he looked at me with uncertainty. “Really, I am not sure what you are going to want to do.” “Are you sure about all this? I feel like you are losing on this deal. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” It was my turn to pat their hands. Uncle Bod had the stern look of a father, “We have talked to our lawyer and our financial advisor about all this. Both of them say since we were leaving all this to you, this is better for you. Mo and I think this is best for us. We might be able to live longer without the stress on our bodies. Honestly, we are excited to watch you live your dreams.” “Almost as excited as if we could watch you go on a date.” I couldn’t believe Aunt Maureen and her worrying about me dating. “Now, Mo, she might be too busy setting up her new place to date yet.” “You two are too much.” I smiled at them both. “Mo is sorry about saying anything about the date thing.” He patted my hand. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. “No, not that. I am talking about giving me this place.” “Remember dear, we are getting your place.” I looked at Aunt Maureen. She seemed so happy about this arrangement. I looked into Uncle Bob’s eyes next. He, too, looked happy. “Are you sure?” I looked at both of them with such gratitude and love. I saw it reflected in their eyes. We looked over their books, seeing them through the eyes of someone who just graduated with a “business” degree. I didn’t care what my diploma said. I thought I had enough credits for a business degree with a minor in management. They told me we would go over the books with their CPA and lawyer on Monday. When we went upstairs, I saw what they were talking about. It did need some cleaning up. Every decoration from years past was stacked or boxed up there. I thought that was true until we went downstairs, and I saw more boxes of decorations. It made sense why employees were not allowed to go downstairs. I thought the staircase in the front of the diner area would be closed off so I would have more floor space. After going downstairs, I could see that space as extra seating. The ceiling was high so I could see it was usable space. Yes, there was work to do, and I was anxious to get started. I went home and drew up a plan and started packing. I decided to donate my mom’s things I didn’t want. I had kept all of her belongings, books, and trinkets since her death. I felt like I should keep the little she had. Since I was moving, I thought maybe it was time to get rid of things that I didn’t think I wanted. As for the clothes, I kept the few dresses that I liked. We wore about the same size. I was a little taller than her, but she wore them a little longer than me. My mom dressed like an old maid. All her clothes were baggy, maybe because she didn’t want Mr. Malcom to see her beautiful body. That was beneficial for me because I was bigger all the way around. She had a couple of beautiful classic dresses. The kind that never went out of style. Well, at least in my mind they would never go out of style. I kept all the books that were important to her. She didn’t want to get rid of books for the sake of getting rid of them. I thought I would go down the street to the little library and donate all the paperback books that my mom got at the library on their dollar for a bag of books sale. Our favorite day to go to the library. I would keep all her trinkets and put them in a shadowbox. If anyone knew us, they would know that it was a pun. Of course, no one really knew us so knowing that she said “she would always be my shadow” would be lost on everyone. She didn’t have many trinkets, so I knew they were important to her. Since it was all I had of her, I thought it was the least I could do to showcase them. Boxing up the kitchen was easy because it was a waste of money spending on things we didn’t need. All the baking experience I had was baking at the diner. Aunt Maureen taught me, then let me practice at the diner. Spending money on treats was always at the diner. In high school I was making more of the baked goods that the diner offered. I loved making them and Aunt Maureen was happy to hand over the reins to me. When I had to make pastries at five in the morning after studying for an exam until late at night I began to question my love. Seeing people enjoying my baked goods was all it took to know I was doing the right thing. That was when I started practicing new pastries and adding croissants. I started having a following when I perfected them. Uncle Bob had to order boxes then because people would order a dozen or more at a time for meetings or celebrations. After the meeting with the lawyer and the CPA when we signed all the papers, we went back to my house. I showed them all the essential things people wanted to know, where to turn off the water and the electrical box. Aunt Maureen was looking at all my stuff like she was trying to decide if she was going to make an offer to buy them. “You know what Sandra, your furniture is just as nice as ours. Why don’t we leave our furniture in our respective homes since they fit? We have too much to fit in here and yours wouldn’t have enough for our space.” I could not believe her. My stuff isn’t that great though when I saw theirs, they were probably from the same period. Moving day was a breeze for me because everything fit into my car. It was cool that I had a marked parking space in the parking lot behind the diner. When I got out of my car, I had to touch the sign saying Sanders Diner Owner Space. Yes, I owned Sanders’ Diner. It was hard to believe that I owned Sanders. Mr. Travis said he would be happy to stay on as my financial advisor. I thought it was interesting that he has two first names, Ralph Travis. I bet there was confusion when he was introduced to people. I knew I was confused. Mr. Jae Kim was another confusing name when I saw it. Mr. Kim said he would be pleased to stay on as my lawyer. Since both of them were in agreement to stay on I was happy I brought along my business plan for my new place. Both of them thought it was a good plan but were worried about how much business I was going to get with taking a third of my floor space for the bookstore. I told them about cleaning out the basement’s front room for customers to go down there to sit. I was making it a self-serve since I didn’t have people working for me yet. They thought I would have to get a loan for buying the books. That part stressed me out. I had never gotten a loan before. Mr. Travis said that I had collateral in the store so there should be no problem in getting a loan. Since I had the only place where people could get good coffee and a pastry off campus we had a niche. Many people who had gone through the university and stayed in town still came to our side of town to come and get breakfast or lunch. While my aunt and uncle closed at six after they offered a simple menu for dinner and I was forgoing that, I thought I would not stay open that long. Dinner wasn’t a big sell I noticed and thought I could get away with just offering lunch souffles and some kinds of bagel sandwiches. I might add it to the menu later on. I had no idea what my future offerings but at the beginning I thought it would work. I decided I would keep some of the regular items and slowly convert over to what I wanted to do. If my regular customers got upset, I would add stuff back. I had so much to do cleaning out the basement and apartment I might have to hire someone part-time right away. Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob would stay on for a month to help out. They wanted to help me succeed. I was very appreciative. A New Business I found a large old chalkboard to put the new menu on and some other items upstairs that I wanted to add back into the diner. Going through the boxes was better than any Christmas I had ever had. I was finding all kinds of gems that needed some cleaning up or fixing. It was a big deal going through things, deciding if I wanted them, donated them, try to sell them or throw them away. I had piles everywhere. A couple of times I thought I got the raw end of the deal having to clean out the Sanders’ place then I would see them come in with cuts from all the work they were doing in the yard. We each had our crosses to bear as my mom would say. I had put an ad in the window for some part-time help. A nice Italian young man who had been going to school at the university needed some work because he didn’t want to tell his parents that he needed more money to live on. He would tell me his family had the money, but they didn’t want him to come to America to study because of all the violence we had here. I couldn’t hire him legally so he begged for the job and would take the cash. He convinced me that neither one of us would get caught. He had been coming in for coffee for a while and made a big deal about how good the Sanders’ coffee was compared to the university coffee. He had helped clear tables for me before he even thought about asking for a job. I knew he was a good worker just observing him when Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob were running the place. We all commented on how nice he was to help out. At the end of the month that Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob had promised me, I hired Vincenzo and was going to pay him under the table as they say. I didn’t know who “they” were but that was my understanding of our situation. Vincenzo would come over when his classes were over and help me. If he had an hour, he would come over to do some dishes. Anytime he would curse the situation he was having with the dishwasher or cleaning up a mess that people left at their table, he would speak Italian. I have too much curiosity and I kept asking him what he was mumbling about. Apparently, I have a good ear for Italian and was picking up the language to the point he decided to teach me. I loved it when Vincenzo would show up unannounced to help. Anytime that he would show up I was filled with joy. I was only a couple years older than him and treated him like my brother. Ester would try to convince me to ask him out since we got along so well. “I couldn’t date my brother” I would say over and over. He treated me like a sister, too. Teasing me to the point of us both laughing about whatever was going on, mostly about me picking the wrong word in Italian. I was learning so fast that I would get words mixed up. I knew I was mixing words up when he would look at me funny then I knew I needed to find the correct word. One day he came in and I was so excited to tell him I had dreamt in Italian. He was just as excited as I was. He remembered the day he dreamt in English and there was no one who understood what that meant. He was understanding English enough and he was surrounded with people who spoke English, he watched television in English plus he had to read in English. His teacher who was assigned to him to work on his English was the only one who understood and all she said was she thought he was ready to go to university full-time. I had been playing Italian music since I had internet. A plus with getting the diner was getting internet because everyone expected it these days. Someday I will celebrate by buying a cellphone. I had a landline phone connected to the internet and was looking forward to making enough money for a cellphone. People were always asking for my cell number and I would have to say sorry, then the dreaded questions would come…why? How can you live without a phone? The other question was would you let me buy you a phone? I knew there would come a day I would get one but for now I didn’t want to spend the money. Some people couldn’t understand why I felt the need to decline their offer when they were offering me a free phone. Until you experience not having much and the joy you get when you buy a new shirt instead of a used shirt, you will never understand. I had other expenses as it was. I was looking into getting my little bookstore set up. I had contacted all the local authors asking if they wanted to have their books on display here for a small percentage of the cost. It was a good partnership. I was looking at some corporations that would let me have the books on consignment. Vincenzo said he would build me bookshelves if I bought him some wood. I found a couple of people willing to lend me some tools. We had cleared out a section of the basement for his little workshop. He was handy at building things, cleaning and teaching me about all things Italian. The favorite section I wanted to set up was travel books. I have been using my knowledge of places to visit to further the travel of the people that came to the diner. I was decorating the diner with the trinkets that people brought back for me as a thank you. The first big item I bought was an “A” to change the name of the diner from Sanders’ to Sandra’s. No one admitted to noticing but I noticed. This place was mine and I wanted to show the world. New people were coming in for my advice on travel, buying books, and my pastries. All were unexpected nevertheless it was exciting to see I had increased my clientele. I was happy my idea of adding books to the diner wasn’t futile. There were still people who liked to hold a book just like me. I was doing so well that I had the place looking like I wanted, and it only took two years. I still was in debt for some of my travel books. They were the only ones that I actually had to buy but I thought they were some of my best sellers. Everyone wanted me to put out a cookbook because they thought my pastries were amazing. I was glad people stuck with me because after all this time I thought I had finally gotten to where I wanted to be. I agreed with everyone that they were amazing. If they weren’t I wouldn’t have people coming from an hour away to buy my “works of art” as someone told me. I have never admitted to anyone that I thought they were amazing because I was afraid that I would get too full of myself. I probably put ten pounds onto my customers. Half of them admitted that to me then said they didn’t care because my pastries were worth the calories. I felt like I could take an evening walk around the neighborhood and not feel guilty that I wasn’t working. Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob were so pleased by my progress and rarely stopped by because it was hard to find a seat, they said. I think they were just enjoying their retirement by traveling and working on their house. They had made the yard come to life with all kinds of flowers and plants. They put a new roof on the house that came out front farther so they could have a porch. That was where I found them these days in the evening if they weren’t traveling. One day they were so excited to see me. “Sandra, you have to come in to see what we have done lately.” Both of them were talking over each other. They were so animated. I couldn’t wait to see what they had done. I knew that Vincenzo had come over to do some work for them. I noticed the difference right when I walked into the house. “Oh my gosh, you widened the bedroom!” I couldn’t get over the change. “Yes, come in and see. Now more than a full-size bed fits in the room. We knew when we saw your room with the single bed, we would never fit it that.” Uncle Bob laughed. “We were so grateful that you didn’t mind us exchanging with one of our full-size beds. We had lived scooting around the bed long enough. Look, we even got a queen bed to fit in here with a dresser. We have a bigger closet. I think Mo is happiest with that change.” Uncle Bob confessed. Aunt Maureen finally got to talk. She had been about to say something a couple times but Uncle Bob wanted to finish his thoughts. “We haven’t really entertained but thought if we wanted to we should have Vincenzo make us a table with a bench on one side. We thought this size would be enough for us. We just push the table over the bench, so we have more room to walk. That Vincenzo was a real find, he is so handy. Isn’t the table beautiful?” “Aunt Maureen, it is beautiful.” She was so proud of the table as she ran her hand over the top. You could tell they used nicer wood than the pine we used to build the bookshelves. People always talked about how cool they looked. I knew he had gotten a few jobs from our clientele when they found out that he made them. I knew I was underpaying him but he insisted that he was getting more out of our deal than I was. It was hard to believe he felt that way. We didn’t even keep track of his hours. I just paid him a flat rate every week. Sometimes I got more hours and sometimes less. I insisted he had to keep his grades up. He was thinking about getting his master’s here. I hoped he would, but I didn’t want our connection to influence him. I knew we would keep in touch wherever he landed. He was my best friend and if I was honest with myself, he was my first real friend. I could be myself around him. I was running my hand over the table and Aunt Maureen took me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay?” “Yes, I was just thinking that Vincenzo does exquisite work.” “You always come up with the correct word.” She reached over to give me a sideways hug. Oh, how I miss having those daily hugs. “If you like this table you should see the kitchen table he made. Come.” We walked into the kitchen and Aunt Maureen had finally painted the kitchen her favorite color…pink. “OMG, he made this table?” It was just an ordinary table that fit perfectly in their kitchen. It was just perfect for two. He had used several kinds of wood and varnish on the wood and it was so shiny you could see yourself in it. “Yes, Vincenzo is a very talented man. I am sure he told you that his grandfather taught him all he knows.” Uncle Bob sounded proud he knew something about Vincenzo. “Yes, did he tell you that his parents don’t like that he loves to work with his hands. That is why he is here to get a financial degree so he can take over the business that his father started.” I could tell he didn’t divulge that bit of information to them. Aunt Maureen put her arm around my shoulder, “Oh, that is so sad. While he worked here, he seemed so happy. It’s a shame you two don’t have something romantic between you.” There she goes again trying to get me to start dating. When the time was right, I would find my person who completes me…one of my favorite movie quotes. “Oh, Mo how do you know there isn’t something going on between the two of them? They are always together.” Uncle Bob elbowed Aunt Maureen in her ribs and looked at me. Aunt Maureen pushed his arm away. “Because if you watch them together or when they talk about the other you only see respect. Almost like siblings but better because they admire each other. “I wish you two wouldn’t get so caught up in my lack of a love life. I promise you there is someone out there that will make me fall in love with him. I am too busy right now to search for him. I am still young; besides if I am not worried about it, you two shouldn’t be. I have a very fulfilling life. Look at me. I am truly happy.” “We just don’t want you to miss out on being in love.” Uncle Bob put his arm around Aunt Maureen and gave her a squeeze. We finished the evening on the porch eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, talking about their trip to Türkiye next month. I told them about the mosque that Sultan Ahmet I’s mother had built for his brother on the Asian side of Istanbul. I would get them the name of the mosque later. I couldn’t think of it at the moment. It was way smaller than the Blue Mosque nevertheless it was very tastefully done. I knew it was not in the touristy area, but I thought they should see what she built for the lesser of her two sons. Also, they could see how Turkish people truly lived. It is hard to believe that the Blue Mosque was finished just a year before Ahmet’s death at 27. I got home just before dark. That was something that bothered me about myself. I didn’t like to come into a dark building. I could work all night in the basement, dining area or my apartment but coming off the street in the dark spooked me. I knew I was silly nonetheless it was one of my many flaws. I had pretty much gone through all the boxes the Sanders left me and labeled the ones I was keeping stored in the basement. Vincenzo and I were ready for people to go downstairs. We had painted the walls a pearl white and had local artists hang their paintings for sale down there. I had had a few books stolen so I thought painting would be a better choice down there and make the room not feel like a dungeon. That was what it looked like when we started cleaning it out. Vincenzo took out the door and opened the walls around the steps so more natural light went down there. I found a good-looking second-hand couch with a couple of overstuffed chairs and some floor lamps to give it a cozier look. We had several dinette tables and a bookshelf full of games and cards that I found at a thrift shop. Down the middle of the room Vincenzo made a long table with benches on each side. Hanging from the ceiling were pendant lights with USB ports so people could charge their phones and computers while working. We were happy with the look. I have to say a few of the paintings I would never buy while others I hoped would never sell. I kind of wanted to put those on the main floor so I could look at them all day. The Day of Eva I had put up a sign in the window that I was looking for a part-time worker. I was going to have to pay that person above board unless they were another international student who couldn’t work. The second day the sign was in the window, a beautiful young woman came in the shop looking for a job. I could tell she was hesitant so I thought I would start with a simple question “What is your name?” I hadn’t seen her in here before. I was very good at remembering faces and names. Quietly she said “Eva.” “And your last name?” She started to stammer then said “Sheboygan.” “Like the city?” I said with a furrowed brow. She made a face then confessed her last name was, “Stanford.” “Like the University?” This kid was confusing me. “No, like the mayor.” “Oh” I let out the word like air let out of a balloon. “That’s okay I will leave.” “Don’t go.” I saw the sadness on Eva’s face. In rushed Mrs. Miller, my favorite customer who bought at least two books a week. She didn’t like eBooks. She loved the feel of the paper as she turned the pages. She wasn’t a fan of the library because so many of the books had been used and didn’t smell like new, another thing she loved. She would help me unpack books when they came in. Her husband was a fan of my chocolate cherry cookies and every week she took home a dozen for him and snickerdoodles for herself. When I made baklava, she would buy half the sheet to take to her dad and mom plus a section for her son and his family. I had quite the following for my baklava. Once a man from Crete cried right in front of me when he took a bite. He said it tasted like the baklava that his mom made. Every Thursday when I made a sheet, he would be the first in line to buy a couple of pieces. Mrs. Miller was all abuzz with excitement, she was carrying a bag of groceries. “Oh, Sandra, do I have something for you and me in this bag. Oh, I love it when I confuse you.” She turned to Eva, “Isn’t she adorable when she looks at me like, what’s going on here?” Eva agreed with her though somewhat reluctantly. Anyone would agree with Mrs. Miller because she was always so enthusiastic you couldn’t help but get excited. “I brought you honey from Greece, actually it came from Rhodes. You were so right; Rhodes was worth going to. It was so lovely. It has such a different feel than so many of the other islands we visited.” Again, she turned to Eva who was backing away. “Anyway, I was told that Rhodes honey is the best in the world and she” Mrs. Miller turned and pointed at me “was right. I am spreading the word that if you don’t know where to go just ask Sandra. You should open a travel agency here, too.” Eva was backing up more and I could see she was leaving. “Please Eva stay and try this honey.” Mrs. Miller turned to her, “Yes, you should try the world’s best honey.” “Mrs. Miller, I am sorry you misunderstood me. I said it was considered one of the best affordable honeys in the world. New Zealand has what is considered the best honey in the world.” “Well, we will just have to see about that on my next trip. Will you help me plan it too?” “Of course. I have some great travel books on New Zealand, and I can check some travel blogs to find what you and Mr. Miller like to do.” “I wish you would call us Mike and Donna. Anyway, I have bought you some treats as well plus,” and she pulled out an evil eye that is probably the most beautiful evil eye I have ever seen. Then she pulled out a beautiful ceramic sailboat. “I thought you could hang these because you have had enough evil in your life, and you need all the luck you can get.” She had one in each hand, and she looked back and forth between them and said. “You don’t think these counteract each other, do you?” She looked at Eva then me. Eva and I both respond “Oh, I wouldn’t think so.” We looked at each other and for the first time I saw Eva smile. I said, “Do you think we should try some good honey?” I could see that Eva was in for tasting some honey. I grabbed a couple of bamboo stirrers and one of the jars that Mrs. Miller had pulled out of the bag. “Sandra, I don’t want you to be hurt that I am asking you to make a baklava with this honey for my family.” She held up the other jar. “Don’t be silly, my mind is already going through what I should bake with this. I thought I could make my baklava and my honey cake. Oh, I have been wanting to try this honey spiced bread that is more like a cake. Now, I have some honey to experiment with. I will make sure you get some of the bread too.” Eva was about to leave with Mrs. Miller. I stopped her and asked her to sit down with me. Eva had been trying to get a job for a couple of months, and no one would hire her when she told them her last name. The mayor hadn’t been popular since he was elected. In three years, he did nothing for the citizens, just did things for his friends and family, which was a huge amount. He was being investigated for some wrongdoing. Vincenzo was handling the few customers in the shop so we had time to chat. Come to find out Eva loved books but was worried about serving people. No, she didn’t have a problem serving people, she was worried that when people found out her name, they would not want her to wait on them. I told her hardly anyone would ask your last name. Sandra looked at Eva, “How about you go without makeup, pull back your hair and braid it so it hides your curls. I bet no one would recognize you.” Eva seemed thrilled. I took pity on her and hoped I hadn’t made a mistake. I knew what it was like to be judged without people knowing who I really was. I wanted to give her a chance.