“Wonderful.” Stephanie answered for both of them. “This lavender shortbread is divine.” She lifted the delicate, heart-shaped cookie.
“Thank you. That’s our signature item—although I use lavender in many of the treats you sampled. I’d like to add another chocolate item, but I haven’t yet found the perfect recipe.”
“Speaking of chocolate—Kat makes the most exquisite truffles. She gave Zach and me a sample from a batch she made with the berries she picked at Blackberry Beach. They were incredible.”
Katherine’s cheeks warmed. “It’s nothing more than a hobby. I’m no expert.”
“Ha.” Stephanie arched an eyebrow. “I’ve sampled candy from the best chocolatiers in the world, and those truffles were worldclass.”
Jeannette shifted toward her. “Have you ever used lavender in truffles?”
“No—but it’s an intriguing idea.”
“A treat like that would be a wonderful addition to my sweet tier, but I have no talent with candy. I’ve tried, but I never get the temperature right. My end product doesn’t have the glossy finish of fine chocolates.”
“Chocolate is tricky. It takes a while to master tempering.” Katherine sipped her tea. “You know, now that you’ve mentioned using lavender in candy, I’m going to have to research that. Maybe give it a try.”
“We have a cranberry farm in town too. There are all kinds of local ingredients for fantastic chocolates.” Jeannette acknowledged a summons from a nearby table with a lift of her hand. “I’ll tell you what. Before you leave, let me cut you a bouquet of fresh lavender as inspiration—and I’d love to taste the results if you come up with a recipe you like.”
The woman moved off, but already Katherine was mentally sifting through her stockpile of recipes. Nothing with lavender popped up—but there were loads of sources for ideas. And there was nothing wrong with developing her own recipe. She wasn’t a master chocolatier, but after all the classes and experimenting she’d done, she ought to be able to tap into her knowledge to create a lavender truffle.
“I agree with Jeannette. A handcrafted piece of chocolate would be a perfect addition to her array of sweets.” Stephanie picked up an elaborate miniature pastry and examined it. “Not that I’m complaining about the offerings on this tray. Every bite has been delicious. Zach has no idea what he missed—in terms of both the food and the company.”
“Thank you.” Katherine selected a tiny cranberry tart. “May I ask you one other question?”
“Fire away.”
“If you had decided to change career midcourse—after your father died—would you have felt guilty?”
Stephanie tilted her head, cup poised halfway to her mouth. “I’ve never thought much about that.” She set the cup back down as she considered the question. “I don’t know that I’d have felt guilty, as long as I went on to another career that fulfilled me. But after investing so much of myself in my job, I suspect I would always have wondered if I could have reached my goal of being a vice president.”
“So you’re not sorry you stuck with it.”
“No. To be honest, achieving that ambition was freeing. Once I’d proven to myself I could do it, I could have walked away satisfied if I’d wanted to.”
From there, the conversation moved on to general topics, and by the time Katherine left an hour later with a sheaf of lavender in hand, a friendship had been forged. Two, based on Jeannette’s parting comment that she hoped to be sampling a lavender truffle soon.
The fog had moved in while they enjoyed their tea, and as Stephanie left her at her car with an invitation to drop in at Zach’s anytime, the light rain intensified.
She climbed behind the wheel, waved to her hostess, and set the lavender on the seat beside her.
It perfumed the car during the drive back to her house, the sweet scent both soothing and invigorating.
Or perhaps the energy coursing through her had more to do with a sense that the decisions she faced weren’t as difficult as she’d imagined. That with prayer, reflection, and conversations like the one she’d had today—plus her exchanges with Zach and Charley—clarity would come.
Just not on Simon’s timetable.
And therein lay the problem.
She drew in a lungful of the fragrant scent, trying to corral the insidious stress that was creeping back.
Constant worry wasn’t going to accelerate her decision process. In fact, it could be counterproductive, tying her up in knots instead of smoothing the tangles from her mind. She needed to chill.
Despite Simon’s hurried, drama-filled visit on Friday, he’d confirmed she had until September 14 to decide about the movie deal . . . and in the meantime, he was taking her content concerns forward.
That gave her three more weeks of breathing space.
And no matter how hard he pushed, she was taking every day of those weeks.
Because if she made a hasty decision that turned out to be wrong, she could end up regretting it for the rest of her life.
15
His father was contacting him?
Zach jolted to a stop in the woods between his house and Katherine’s. Stared at his cell.
The number wasn’t one he’d called in the past few years, but it was engraved in his memory.
He should answer—but after such a long gap in communication, it would be difficult to talk to his dad without significant mental prep.
Too bad Katherine hadn’t responded to his knock on this late Sunday afternoon so he could return her plate and give her Charley’s packet of change in person instead of leaving them on the deck. If he’d been with her, he wouldn’t have paid any attention to the vibrating summons in his pocket.
As the phone continued to pulsate, he weighed it in his hand.
Ignoring the call was an option.
But what if, by some miracle, his father had experienced a change of heart and wanted to rebuild the bridge between them?
After all, what else could have prompted this out-of-the-blue call?
A wisp of hope spiraled up inside him—a reminder that despite his claim to the contrary during his conversation with Katherine, the negative fallout from his choice to walk away from his former life did still bother him. At a deep, elemental level he rarely acknowledged.
Could his dad have come to the same conclusion? Did he miss their former weekly phone calls? Was he hoping to rectify the situation?
Moving under the sheltering branches of a spruce tree, he took a steadying breath and pushed the talk button.
“Hello, Dad.”
Silence.
He waited.
More silence.
Frowning, he clenched the fingers of his free hand. “Dad? Is that you?”
“Yes. Sorry. I intended to phone your aunt. I must have pressed the wrong name.”
The call was a mistake. The elder Garrett hadn’t reached out to him.
His spirits tanked.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
Letting that tiny surge of hope brighten his day had been foolish. If his dad hadn’t softened in two and a half years, there wasn’t much chance he ever would.
He squared his shoulders, struggling to maintain a neutral tone. “She went to tea and may have her phone off. I’ll tell her you called after she gets back.”