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Authors: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
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you for a minute. You’re fixing to get busy so I probably should go.”
“I have chicken and cut dumplings in the slow cooker behind me,” Caroline said. She inclined her head toward the bright orange pot. “You’re welcome to have a bowl, if you have time. You can sit at the table or take it into the office if you’d rather. Come around the counter and I’ll dish you some.”
Neil shook his head. “Carrie, you do beat all. Yeah, I’d like some. Probably save my life or something. When did you drag that table out here?”
“Yesterday for some of the old men,” she told him. She turned around, served him a bowl of dumplings and handed him a spoon. “They liked it.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Thanks, Carrie, for the food.”
He sat down at the battered card table and she watched as he bowed his head for a silent blessing. Then he took the first bite and grinned. She turned back to the cash register and by the time she had a free moment, he’d finished. “Do you want a little more?”
“Maybe just a bit and I’ll buy a cup of coffee to go with it.”
While he enjoyed seconds, a tall, lanky miner sauntered in and stood beside Neil. “Damn, son, that looks pretty good. Where did you get it?”
Mouth filled with dumplings, Neil pointed at Caroline.
“Do you got another bowl of that?” the man asked. “How much is it?”
“Well, Bill, it’s four dollars,” Neil said before she could answer. Caroline spread her hands apart, a silent query ‘of what the hell’. He shot her a look she remembered very well, one that meant ‘let me carry this one’.
“A bargain at the price,” Bill said. Caroline, who now recognized him as Billy Wilson, a classmate of Neil’s, dished up a bowl and rang up the sale. Bill joined Neil and within a few minutes, she’d sold every bit of the dumplings. Two more miners bought some and one elderly man who confided, “I haven’t had chicken and dumplings since my wife got the Alzheimer’s and went to live in a nursing home over at Charleston.”
At six, the crowds thinned and then were gone, leaving Caroline and Neil. He remained at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, shoulders relaxed, and he wore a contented expression. After she shut down the store, she joined him, shaking her head.
“I made that mostly for you, you know.”
“I figured, but you made twenty bucks that you otherwise wouldn’t have,” Neil answered. “I ain’t the only hungry miner round here. You could probably do well with offering some hot food.”
Caroline nodded. “You have a point. I know a lot of convenience stores have chicken strips and hot dogs and catfish and things. It’d take some work to get it going, though.”
“I think it would be worth it. I want to see you make the old store into a success.”
“Well, so do I. I can see the community needed something like this.”
“And if it makes you a living, you’re more likely to stay.”
Although his tone remained soft, his simple statement told her plenty about how he felt.
“I’m planning to, Neil.”
“Good.” He yawned. “I need to get going before I fall asleep here at this table. Let me tote your stuff out to the car for you, though.”
After the crock pot and dishes were tucked into a cardboard box in the rear floorboard, Neil lingered. “Are you planning to cook something tomorrow?”
She made a rapid mental assessment of what she had on hand at home and nodded. “Sure. I’m not sure what, but yes, I will.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Neil took a step closer and slid one arm around her waist, careful not to rub against her in his mining garments. He kissed her, slow and with a sense of longing. Caroline didn’t think she’d ever had a sweeter kiss from anyone. “Thank you, honey,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Goodnight, Neil. Sleep well.”
He had started to walk away but he turned back toward her. “I just might for once,” he said. “’Night, Carrie.”
The
“I have chicken and cut dumplings in the slow cooker behind me,” Caroline said. She inclined her head toward the bright orange pot. “You’re welcome to have a bowl, if you have time. You can sit at the table or take it into the office if you’d rather. Come around the counter and I’ll dish you some.”
Neil shook his head. “Carrie, you do beat all. Yeah, I’d like some. Probably save my life or something. When did you drag that table out here?”
“Yesterday for some of the old men,” she told him. She turned around, served him a bowl of dumplings and handed him a spoon. “They liked it.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Thanks, Carrie, for the food.”
He sat down at the battered card table and she watched as he bowed his head for a silent blessing. Then he took the first bite and grinned. She turned back to the cash register and by the time she had a free moment, he’d finished. “Do you want a little more?”
“Maybe just a bit and I’ll buy a cup of coffee to go with it.”
While he enjoyed seconds, a tall, lanky miner sauntered in and stood beside Neil. “Damn, son, that looks pretty good. Where did you get it?”
Mouth filled with dumplings, Neil pointed at Caroline.
“Do you got another bowl of that?” the man asked. “How much is it?”
“Well, Bill, it’s four dollars,” Neil said before she could answer. Caroline spread her hands apart, a silent query ‘of what the hell’. He shot her a look she remembered very well, one that meant ‘let me carry this one’.
“A bargain at the price,” Bill said. Caroline, who now recognized him as Billy Wilson, a classmate of Neil’s, dished up a bowl and rang up the sale. Bill joined Neil and within a few minutes, she’d sold every bit of the dumplings. Two more miners bought some and one elderly man who confided, “I haven’t had chicken and dumplings since my wife got the Alzheimer’s and went to live in a nursing home over at Charleston.”
At six, the crowds thinned and then were gone, leaving Caroline and Neil. He remained at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, shoulders relaxed, and he wore a contented expression. After she shut down the store, she joined him, shaking her head.
“I made that mostly for you, you know.”
“I figured, but you made twenty bucks that you otherwise wouldn’t have,” Neil answered. “I ain’t the only hungry miner round here. You could probably do well with offering some hot food.”
Caroline nodded. “You have a point. I know a lot of convenience stores have chicken strips and hot dogs and catfish and things. It’d take some work to get it going, though.”
“I think it would be worth it. I want to see you make the old store into a success.”
“Well, so do I. I can see the community needed something like this.”
“And if it makes you a living, you’re more likely to stay.”
Although his tone remained soft, his simple statement told her plenty about how he felt.
“I’m planning to, Neil.”
“Good.” He yawned. “I need to get going before I fall asleep here at this table. Let me tote your stuff out to the car for you, though.”
After the crock pot and dishes were tucked into a cardboard box in the rear floorboard, Neil lingered. “Are you planning to cook something tomorrow?”
She made a rapid mental assessment of what she had on hand at home and nodded. “Sure. I’m not sure what, but yes, I will.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Neil took a step closer and slid one arm around her waist, careful not to rub against her in his mining garments. He kissed her, slow and with a sense of longing. Caroline didn’t think she’d ever had a sweeter kiss from anyone. “Thank you, honey,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Goodnight, Neil. Sleep well.”
He had started to walk away but he turned back toward her. “I just might for once,” he said. “’Night, Carrie.”
The
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