Blue Ribbon Summer Read online

  Blue Ribbon Summer

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2014 by Kelly Maestas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Acknowledgment

  Praise and Awards

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Thank you for reading.

  Other Books by Kelly Collins

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  About the Author

  Acknowledgment

  As always my thanks go to my husband and my

  children, who make my life a pretty place to live.

  To my sisters, who are always there to lend a helping

  hand or a swift kick in the pants depending on

  what is needed at the time.

  To my mother, who is my biggest fan. Thanks for scanning my books for hours searching for that one error that needed to be corrected. Your eye is appreciated.

  To my friends, who read my books and love me anyway.

  Praise and Awards

  “Kelly Collins has a gift for drawing the reader into the story. She tells you just enough to get you hooked and builds your curiosity to want to learn more.”

  ~ Joy Capps

  “It is official. Kelly Collins is the queen of novellas! She can do no wrong with the short stories that she writes.”

  ~ Anne M

  Chapter One

  I’ve spent my whole life here. My dad’s the local sheriff. That meant I had to be the best-behaved kid in town. Having your dad as the sheriff also meant that you didn’t get to date much. Most boys found my dad intimidating. He was fine with that since he probably wouldn’t have let me date any of them anyway. No boy in Waycross was good enough for Talbot Shanters’s daughter. That’s how I ended up being an eighteen-year-old virgin in a town full of whores.

  I hated summer. There was nothing to do and no one to see. The same old people were in town. Nothing changed. Weekdays were spent working my summer job, and the weekends were spent drinking at the lake. Or, I should say, my closest friend, Rachel, drank at the lake, and I made sure she got home all right.

  Who would Rachel set her sights on this year? Would it be Tommy, the transfer student who started in the fourth quarter of his junior year? He was younger, but Rachel wasn’t picky. She’d been showing him a lot of attention lately. Maybe she’d go for some of the older men in town. She was fair game now that she had turned eighteen. Although Rachel and I were like night and day, we always got along so well. I was the yin to her yang and vice versa. Now that we had both graduated and our lives were moving in different directions, things would change, but for now, things remained the same. I worked at the diner Tuesday through Friday, helped out with things at the house on Saturday, and hung by the community pool on Sunday. Mondays were mine to do with as I pleased. This was my life.

  I threw on my uniform shirt over my T-shirt and jeans and headed to Rusty’s Diner. I worked there every summer. I took the evening shift because no one else wanted it. You didn’t make as much money because it wasn’t busy, but it gave me time to read and plan the rest of my life. Today was Friday, and I could just about tell you what the day had in store for me. A few of the same customers would show up, and I’d earn about five dollars in tips.

  I walked out of my house and was hit with the heat of a southern summer. Within five minutes, I was drenched in perspiration. So much for fixing my hair. The perfect waves I had painstakingly curled were now a memory as the limp strands of my hair hung down and stuck to my cheeks. It was just the way life was here in Waycross, Texas. I hopped in my little car and headed for work.

  When I opened the door to Rusty’s, I saw the same people sitting in the booths. Old Joe Leto was in the back corner where he would stay until nearly eight o’clock. He would drink four cups of coffee before he ordered the chicken-fried steak, and then he’d have his fifth cup while he ate a piece of cherry pie. He’d fold his napkin, pay his bill, and put two quarters on the table for my tip. Big spender. Justine Fuller sat at the counter. She’d talk about her newest diet and how some kind of pie was part of the plan. That was how she stayed on it for so long. She lied to herself. I don’t think she’d lost a pound in years, but as long as she believed it, then I guessed it was okay.

  I walked into the bathroom and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I didn’t know why I bothered. I looked into the mirror and wiped at the mascara that had melted under my eyes. I looked like a wet raccoon. The bell on the door rang, and I rushed out to greet my newest customer.

  “Have you got it from here, Tilly?” my co-worker Mel asked me. She was grabbing her purse and preparing to slide out the door. She worked the day shift, and we were like ships that passed in the night: I walked in, and she walked out. Just before she let the door close, she turned and said, “Rusty wants you to make the pies tonight since it’s going to be slow.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I made the pies every night I worked because it was always slow. I’d been making the pies for years now. I started working at Rusty’s bussing tables when I was fourteen. My mama had taught me to bake when I was little. She’d said that a woman who could make a good pie would always be able to soften a man’s heart. God bless her, she’d been gone for three years now. It was awful for all of us to watch her fade away so quickly, but I was grateful she didn’t suffer much.

  Once my mom passed, my dad threw himself into his work. He also made it his mission to make sure the entire male population of Waycross knew I was off limits. One time he caught Steven Shaw and me parked by the lake. We had made it to second base, and just as his hand slid over my breast, the door of the car flew open. The shocked look on that boy’s face when my daddy pulled him out of the car by his ear was priceless. He threw Steven in handcuffs and hauled him into the county lockup. Rumor spread all over town, and that was the last date I ever had. That was over a year ago.

  I picked up a few menus and greeted my new customers. Bev and Dan took their seats in their normal booth. I poured them the coffee they always ordered and handed them menus. My guess was that Bev would order her regular club sandwich with extra bacon and Dan would take the blue cheese burger with onion rings instead of fries.

  “Welcome back, good to see you both. What will it be today?” They placed their order, and it was just like I thought it would be. I wrote the order down, ripped it off my pad, and took it to the window for Ted to prepare.

  Meanwhile, I gathered the ingredients for my famous pies and began to prep on the front counter. I made the perfect flaky crust. I guessed that’s why everyone loved my pie. It was all about the temperature of the dough and making sure that you didn’t mix it too much.

  I walked out to old Joe and poured him his third cup of coffee. He wouldn’t be ready to order his dinner until he got to the fourth.

  I checked on Justine, who drank only water. You had to stick to your old regimen if you were going to be successful, she told me as she scarfed down her cherry pie.

  I put a layer of flour on the counter and began to roll the dough. Two cherry pies, two apple pies, and a strawberry rhubarb pie were on the agenda tonight. I called back to Ted and asked him to preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

  “Tilly, did you hear that Old Man Saunders passed away? He was only sixty-four. His next of kin was supposed to arrive in town today, but no one has seen him or her. It’s sad that he died all alone,” Justine said.

  Old Man Saunders was a b
it of a recluse. “Who knows what his life was like. He didn’t talk much, that’s for sure,” I replied. “I wonder what will happen to the house on the lake? It’s such a great property. He must have had some money to own that house on that expanse of land.”

  “I can’t wait to see who shows up to claim it,” she said as she rose from her seat to pay for her pie. She plopped a dollar on the counter and walked to the register. It was going to be a banner tip night.

  I poured Joe his fourth cup of coffee and took his order. I waited patiently while he looked over the menu. He did this every day, and every day he ordered the same thing.

  “Hey, Tilly girl, I think I’m going to change it up tonight.” My eyebrows rose in surprise. He had ordered the same thing for years.

  “Living on the edge, Mr. Leto?” I asked, wondering what the heck he was doing.

  “I’ll have the chicken-fried steak, but tonight I want fries instead of mashed potatoes.”

  “Do you think you should walk that far off your beaten path, Mr. Leto? I mean, mashed potatoes are your thing,” I teased.

  “Sometimes you just have to say what the heck.” He smiled up at me with his toothless grin. I wondered whether he gummed his food to death or swallowed everything whole.

  Well, that should just about complete my customers for the night unless Rachel comes in, I thought and headed back to my baking once I’d turned in Mr. Leto’s order. I set the crust in each pie plate and trimmed off the excess. I pre-baked my crusts so they didn’t get gummy. I sent all five back to the kitchen and began to assemble the fillings.

  The bell on the door rang again, and I turned to see who was walking in. It was Rachel, and on her arm was Tommy. I smiled inwardly, knowing that he didn’t have a chance. Once Rachel set her sights on some boy, he might as well just roll over. I think she’d been through every boy in town. I lived vicariously through all her escapades. I knew more about sex than any virgin should. Honestly, the only thing virgin about me was that no one had popped my cherry.

  “Hey, Rachel…boring night tonight? I don’t usually see you on a Friday night at the diner. Hey, Tommy.” I grabbed a rag from the soapy water bucket and began to wipe off the counter where I had rolled the dough. The two of them sat right in front of me.

  “We’re headed over to the lake. Tommy has a bunch of friends coming into town from across the lake, and I thought that maybe you would like to come over and join us.” She gave me a wink. “You know, maybe meeting someone new could take care of that problem we were talking about.” She was referring to my virginity.

  Tommy looked confused. “What problem?” he asked.

  “Oh, well, Tilly needs to meet some new boys. Her dad doesn’t like her dating the local crop.” Her smile dazzled as she leaned over the counter and gave Tommy a bird’s-eye view of her cleavage.

  “Do you guys want anything, or was that it?” I shook my head at her and gave her the finger while Tommy’s eyes were distracted.

  “Nope, I expect to see you there at nine-thirty since you close the diner at nine. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  I rolled my eyes and left them to exit on their own while I delivered meals to my remaining two tables.

  Throughout the rest of the evening, I topped off the salt and pepper shakers, married the ketchup and mustard bottles, and filled my pies. It was nearly eight-thirty before Bev and Dan took off, leaving me a two-dollar tip. Joe headed out next. I walked over to his booth, slid the two quarters in my pocket, and wiped the table clean.

  The bell above the door rang again. This time it startled me. No one came in the diner at eight-thirty. This town shut down by nine, and no one expected us to dirty our clean kitchen after eight.

  “Are you still open?” the stranger asked. I stared at him for a minute while he watched for my response. He was not your classic handsome, but something about him was sexy.

  Smiling at him, I answered, “Um, we were just cleaning up, but as long as you don’t want something deep-fried, we can get you fixed up.”

  He walked over to the counter and slid onto one of the stools. I handed him a menu. Leaning against the counter across from him, I watched with rapt attention as he looked it over.

  His dark hair and dark eyes looked almost sinister. The dark circles under his eyes indicated he either drank a lot or he was tired. Without knowing him, I couldn’t really say with any confidence. He smelled good. As the door closed, the air that circulated around him brought a whiff of sandalwood and bergamot to my nose. I loved that musky, sensuous smell in a man’s cologne.

  I heard him clear his throat and realized that I had been lost in thought for a moment.

  “Sorry, it’s been a long day. What can I get you?” I smiled sweetly at his frowning face.

  “Is there any blue plate special left?”

  I was pretty sure that Ted would be thrilled to dish up meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a mixed veggie. This guy couldn’t have chosen anything simpler if he’d tried.

  “I’ll have that up in a jiffy.” I turned around and slapped the order onto the rack and spun it around. “Order in,” I called, trying to get Ted’s attention. He was probably out back smoking. Peeking over the counter, I could see my pies were cooling.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Do you serve alcohol?” He looked at me with a serious scowl on his face.

  “Nope, this is an alcohol-free zone. Tippy’s across the street can fix you up, though. There’s live music and a bar that can serve you just about anything.”

  I walked in the kitchen and looked for Ted. He crept back into his workspace from the back alley, saw the order on the rack, and grumbled to himself. I covered my pies and placed them in the pie safe out front.

  My new customer sat in silence, doing nothing, looking at nothing. I set a glass of water in front of him. “You may need this until you can get something stronger. Ted’s mashed potatoes are often like paste, and you’ll need something to wash them down.” The serious, grim line of his mouth turned upward into a smile as I finished my sentence.

  “What brings you into town? You’re obviously not from here. With a population of just under four thousand full-time residents, you pretty much get to know everyone.”

  “No, I’m just passing through. I saw the diner open and was hungry. Sorry to keep you here longer.”

  “I’m here until the last customer leaves, so take your time. I’ve got nothing else planned tonight anyway.” His eyebrows shifted ever so slightly, and I wondered what I’d said to make him react that way.

  “It’s a Friday night. Surely you have a date or something.”

  “Order up,” called Ted. I watched him slide the plate on the counter. Off came his apron, and he was out the door. Ted was no gentleman; he was off to see his girl, and nothing was going to keep him a minute past nine.

  I placed the plate in front of him. “Enjoy your meal.” I left the stranger alone while I walked to the back door and locked it. It wasn’t like anyone was going to bother me—my dad was the freaking sheriff—but you never knew. I always remembered my mom telling me you shouldn’t borrow trouble.

  “This is fabulous. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal or one that tasted like one in a while.”

  “Can I get you anything else? I just made some pie, and the folks in town say I make the best pie around.” I was proud of my pies.

  “I can’t eat another bite, but I’ll take some to go. Do you have cherry?”

  I gave him a big smile. “It’s my specialty. Let me get you a piece to take with you. It’s on the house. Welcome to Waycross. My name is Tilly.” I held my hand out to shake his. Our fingers touched first, and it was as if his hand was on fire. The heat from his palm ran through my whole body. I’d never felt anything like it. I pulled back fast, fearing that too much contact would burn me. Our eyes met; he nodded his head, but he didn’t offer his name. The man was strange but in a sexy, mysterious kind of way.

  I added up his check and left it on the co
unter next to his water. He turned it over and chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Was he laughing at my handwriting or the hand-drawn smiley face that I put at the bottom of all my checks?

  “It’s just that I haven’t paid under ten dollars for a meal in years.” He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and laid it on the table. “Keep the change.”

  He walked to the door and stopped before he exited. “Tilly, you shouldn’t be left alone to close the diner by yourself. It’s not safe for a young beautiful woman to be left on her own.” He swung around and walked out the door.

  I was left staring after him, wondering who in the hell he was. I walked to the window and flipped the “we’re open” sign around to “closed” and completed my job for the night.

  At nine-thirty my phone buzzed with an incoming message.

  Rachel: You’re late! Where R U

  Me: I had to work late we had a new customer.

  Rachel: Liar, no one new comes in on a Friday night.

  Me: I swear, this totally hot guy came into the diner and ordered meatloaf. I had to wait until he finished. He left me a ten-dollar tip.

  Rachel: I don’t believe you, what was he wearing?

  I had no idea what he had been wearing; I couldn’t get past his dark hair and eyes.

  Me: I’m not lying. I don’t remember what he was wearing. I’m on my way. I just need to let my dad know where I am.

  Rachel: Shit Tilly, you’re over eighteen.

  I didn’t answer her. She was right, but until I left for college in August, I was still living under his roof, and I’d respect his rules. I dialed my dad’s number and waited for him to answer.

  “Hi, Tills, are you off work, sweetie?” my dad asked.