THE LEMON TREE CAFE – A free story

            It was Monday in Apison, Tennessee, a little town near Chattanooga that most people said they’d never heard of, and Myrtle Kirkpatrick looked forward to another boring week. Of course, she wouldn’t let people know she saw her life like that. But the feelings were there. On this week’s agenda were a score of meetings supposed to bring her happiness and fulfillment, but frankly they didn’t. Whatever was wrong with her? She didn’t usually wallow in depressive thoughts and self-pity.

She looked at the pictures plastered across her refrigerator of her children and grandchildren. One photo, when the children were small, included her husband, a ne’er-do-well, lazy, and irresponsible man who never provided a stable means of support to her or the kids. When she found out he had another woman on the side she divorced him and took back her own name legally. She still couldn’t imagine what that other woman saw in him. She got counseling before her divorce.  She had Biblical grounds. Carl had betrayed and all but deserted her. She’d been providing for the family income for years and it wasn’t much change to do without Carl’s intermittent support when he moved out and moved on. She had no idea where he even lived now. She’d worked at a local bakery for years, a hard job, but cooking was something she knew and she’d never gotten a higher education to do more to provide support for herself and two kids. On the side she’d started baking for small groups and events and in time that little side business grew so much she took a chance, left the bakery, and went with the catering business full time that she called Kirkpatrick’s Catering. It had been surprisingly successful but as her children grew up they had no interest in it. They wouldn’t even help with it in any way unless coerced. Although they didn’t mind taking her money.

Myrtle handled the catering business part-time now, probably a mistake because it left her with too much leisure time she’d filled with activities that brought her little personal fulfillment.  Still restless this Monday, she called her younger sister Polly, who lived further west in their parents’ small home in Tullahoma, Tennessee.

“Good morning, sister, what are you doing this Monday morning?”

Polly sighed. “Getting ready to go clean houses. I hate to complain, but it gets old cleaning up after lazy people. Only two of the people I clean for really need help. The others are just well-to-do and lazy. You’d think they could clean up a little, even make their beds in the morning, keep things somewhat neat. I’d be embarrassed for someone to see my house at all if it looked like some of the ones I clean.”

“You’ve built up the business well, though, never have any complaints.”

“I suppose. But I was looking back this morning on all the mistakes I’ve made in my life. I was foolish, especially, to move in with Gregory without getting married to him first. I mean I knew it was wrong, Myrtle, growing up in church and all, but I made excuses for doing it. You remember. I thought it best, like Gregory said, that we get to know each other well first.” She paused. “While I saw myself as a wise contemporary woman, I was actually a fool, cooking and cleaning for that man for fifteen years, working in an office, too, and paying half the bills, sometimes more. Then he ran off with that young skirt and married her, and I had to go home to Mama and Daddy’s with my tail between my legs to live with them, since the house Gregory and I shared was only in his name.”

Myrtle snorted. “We neither one did very well with choosing men. I’m grateful, however, that you stayed on with Mama and Daddy to care for them as they grew older. You also still take good care of their little house now that they’re gone. We had good, sweet parents, Polly, despite all the bad decisions we made. I miss them.”

“I miss them, too. You’re the only family I have now, Myrtle. I have a few old friends here in Tullahoma but not many. I admit I have days when I feel a little sorry for myself.”

Myrtle, surprised to learn Polly was having discontented thoughts about her own life, too, suddenly had a small, happy idea drop into her mind. “Listen,” she said. “Let’s take a week off next week and go to the Smoky Mountains and rent one of those cabins. I got some extra money recently for a big, fancy catering job. It will take care of the cabin rental. I can get online and find one we’d like. I think it would be good for both of us to get away. I’ve been entertaining some of the same disgruntled feelings. What do you say? I can get some of my staff to cover for my hours here.”

Polly hesitated, and then said, “Okay, let’s do it. I can’t even recall when I had a vacation the last time. I always hated to think of going somewhere alone. Let me know if you can get the cabin. Then I’ll let all my regular clients know I’ll be away for a week. Another lady I know at church, who has been trying to build her cleaning business, might want to pick up the jobs. I’ll call and ask her. That might give me an alternative to offer my regular clients. Peggy would do good work for them.”

Excited now, Myrtle said. “I’ll try to get the cabin Saturday to Saturday. If I do, you can drive over her to my place, and then we’ll drive to the Smokies together. I don’t think we’ll need two cars there, do you?”

“No, and, Myrtle, thank you for calling when you did. I was just feeling like my life was such a waste, needing purpose or meaning or something.”

The next week the two sisters made their way with excitement to a small cabin Myrtle had found for them in Townsend, Tennessee, on the quiet side of the Smoky Mountains.

Watching a map, instead of GPS, as they drove into Townsend, Polly said, “Turn at the next light and then go about a block and turn left on Harmon Lane. The house should be about a half mile down the road with a sign on it saying Little River Retreat.”

Myrtle made the turnings and then slowed as they drove down the quiet road along the tumbling mountain river. “There it is,” she said after a time.

“Oh, look how cute it is!” Polly exclaimed. “Even cuter than the picture with porches all around, brown and rustic with a green roof.” As Myrtle stopped the car in the drive, she added, “Look, you can see the mountains in the background, and the backyard looks right over the river. Won’t it be nice to sit on the screened porch there and listen to the sound of it rushing along and to watch the tubers drifting by?”

Inside they were charmed to find the house comfortably furnished, with a big living room centered around a rock fireplace, a nice kitchen and dining area, two bedrooms, both with queen beds, and two baths.

“This is simply perfect,” Polly said after they’d carried their bags in and started bringing in the groceries they’d picked up on their way into Townsend from Maryville.

The week was perfect and their lovely break week went all too fast with sunny weather every day. They took drives into the mountains, hiked some short trails, and ate picnics by the mountain streams. They explored Gatlinburg and the Glades Arts and Crafts Community, enjoying all the cute shops, especially those with handmade crafts. One day they splurged and went to Dollywood and then drove around Cades Cove one afternoon, stopping to see all the historic homes, churches, and the old mill there. Near the end of the week, they explored around Townsend nearby, visiting the Heritage Center, the Little River Railroad Museum, and stopping to explore the Apple Barn store and the shops around it. They loved the Hart Gallery on one end but were disappointed to find the Berry Sweet Bakery on the other end closed and shuttered.

“We all miss that little bakery,” a man in the Hart Gallery said. “A long illness and a death forced the couple who started it to have to put it up for sale.”

“That’s a shame,” Myrtle commented.

The man nodded. “It was a popular spot, sold homemade baked goods and sweets,  coffee and cold drinks.  We’ve been sending up a few prayers that a similar store like that will reopen there.”

While Polly went browsing in the Apple Barn store at all the mountain crafts, Myrtle feigned a desire to sit and rest on the porch, but went instead back to the little bakery store to peek into the windows and look around.

The building, sitting to the left of the Apple Barn, was a cute gray building with a gray tin roof, like the adjoining Apple Barn and Hart Gallery stores. It had a wide, charming front porch with little metal tables and chairs on it, a red front door, and long windows looking out. Myrtle could look through those windows easily to see the big baked goods counter, shelves for other items, the kitchen area behind the counter with its ovens, sinks, refrigerator, and preparation area. It drew her and she felt an excitement build in her she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Walking back to the Hart Gallery, where they’d stopped first, Myrtle introduced herself. “I’m Myrtle Kirkpatrick and I think my sister and I might be interested in looking at the bake shop. Would you know who we could contact to inquire about it?”

“I do. I’m Boyce Hart. I own the Hart Gallery here.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. “Would you and your sister want to run the store as a baked goods and sweet shop again? I can assure you it’s been very successful in past.” He chatted about that and then wrote down the realtor to contact, even telling her the asking price of the store. “It’s a reasonable price,” he added. “This area, like all the areas around the Smokies, is growing. We get good traffic year round now.”

“Thank you for your help,” Myrtle said as she left.

When Polly came out of the Apple Barn, carrying a little bag of gift items, Myrtle said, “Come over here for a minute.” She led her over to the vacant store. “What if we bought this store and opened our own little bakery store here?”

Polly looked stunned. “Are you crazy? What do we know about running a business? And what would we use for money to buy it?”

Myrtle crossed her arms, annoyed. “Try to open your mind a little, Polly. We both run our own businesses now. You love to cook; I love to cook. Look at us. Our figures certainly show that we enjoy our sweets, too. I admit, I love to bake. I worked at a bakery for years; I still bake most of what we cater in the business. You cooked and baked for mom and dad, and I know how you always took sweets to church circle meetings and to the church craft sales. You even used to get a booth at the local craft shows to sell your baked goods, jellies, and those cute craft items you made like aprons and potholders and stuff. We both have a lot to bring to a business like this.”

Polly walked up on the store’s porch to sit down, dropping her bag on the table. “Whatever brought this idea on, Myrtle? I thought we were just here for a little vacation and a needed getaway.”

“We were and we are enjoying a needed getaway, but sometimes good ideas come in those times. Look around. Look in the windows. Can’t you even envision it even a little bit?”

Grudgingly, she got up to look in the windows and Myrtle could see her smiling. “It’s a really cute place. I can imagine it would be fun to even work here, and even better to own the place, but practically speaking, I imagine buying a store like this would not be cheap.”

“It’s actually not unreasonable to consider,” Myrtle said. “The catering business I’ve run all these years has netted a good profit and I’ve put money away.” She paused. “Also, I’ve recently received a very lucrative offer to buy out my business. The woman who has been working with me these last years received an inheritance and wants to buy it out right. She also offered to buy half the business and partner, but I could tell she’d really like to buy it. She’s good, competent, has those young marketing skills I don’t have. She might change the name in time, but she’ll keep it going.”

Polly looked down at her feet. “Well, I don’t have a big inheritance to bring to this.”

“If you sold our parents’ house you would, Polly. Property values have soared over the years. You’d get enough for the house to put in half and still have a lot to keep.” Seeing Polly’s eyes widen with shock, Myrtle added, “If we came here to open a business we’d be living here now. You wouldn’t want to keep up a house in Tullahoma while living here. I’d sell my house, too.”

“You don’t feel bad that mother and dad left me the house, do you?” Polly asked.

“Of course not. I suggested it to them. It only seemed fair when you’d stayed with them and cared for them all those years.”

“Don’t you think they’d mind if I sold it? It’s where we grew up, Myrtle.”

Myrtle tried to think what to say. “Mom and Dad are both in heaven now. I don’t think they’d mind. Their heart was always for us to be happy.” She smiled. “I think they’d sort of like the idea of their girls opening a business together, but I would never want to pressure you about doing anything you don’t want to do. You may want to stay on in Tullahoma. We did grow up there. Moving anywhere is a big change. And, admittedly, there is some risk in starting any business. We both faced it starting the businesses we have going right now.”

“Let’s go back to the cabin and fix dinner and let me think about this,” Polly said. “It’s a really big decision. What will your children think?”

“They hardly come to see me.” Myrtle shrugged. “They call only occasionally. There are often times I’ve needed their help with the business, with the house. They always have excuses. When they come for visits they never offer to pitch in, to stay a while to help me in any way with jobs that are hard for me to do alone. I get a gift or two and a card from them at Christmas but I’m lucky if I even get a card for my birthday, even though I am generous with them.” She shrugged. “I’m sure they love me somewhat in their way, but I hardly feel I need to consult with them about any decisions I make for my life. If that sounds harsh, I’m sorry, but it’s simply the truth.”

They found their car and started back to their rental cabin.

“I suppose I’ve always envied you having children,” Polly said after a time. “In truth, I hardly see your children very often either unless I come to your place. I used to feel a little resentful, too, that they gave so little time to Mom and Dad. They were Mom and Dad’s only grandchildren. Our parents loved them and wished they saw them more often, shared more in their lives.”

“I regret that, too, Polly, but once they got out on their own there wasn’t much I could do to make them want to spend time with me, you, Mom or Dad.” She hesitated.” They weren’t even very excited about having me come to see them, either. It’s sort of sad the way it is, but I know I was a good, loving mother. I sacrificed a lot for them, not that I ever resented it, but I think all parents hold the hope that their kids will always love and care about them and want to spend time with them.”

Back at the cabin, since they’d enjoyed an ample lunch out earlier, they heated up a hearty soup they’d made the night before and ate it with homemade bread for supper. Then they went out to sit on the cabin porch. Myrtle tossed some cracked corn they’d picked up at the store out to a group of wild geese that seemed to be living temporarily or permanently by the river bank. Then they sat listening to the night sounds.

“Tomorrow is our last day here,” Polly said after a time. “Let’s call that realtor, Jack Teague, and look at the shop inside in the morning. I may not feel I can make a decision right then, however. I believe we should both go home and think and pray about this for a week  at least before we make such a huge commitment and life change.” She smiled at Myrtle. “I admit, though, the ideas for a store are bubbling in me now.”

Myrtle smiled. “My mind has been full of ideas, too.”

“Like what?” Polly asked.

“Boyce Hart at the Hart Gallery said the former Berry Sweet Bakery sort of capitalized on sweets made with different berries as their feature item. I liked that idea, but I would want to do something different.” She stopped to think. “What sweet or baked item do you most love to make?”

Polly laughed. “How can you ask? We’ve both always loved anything lemon flavored since we were girls, like mom’s lemon pie with that flaky homemade crust, piled high with meringue, the lemon pound cakes you make with that luscious white lemon glaze icing dripping down the sides, and those lemon donuts you often offer for your events that are so good …”

Myrtle interrupted. “And I love those wonderful lemon squares you make, Polly, and that lemon layer cake with the lemony buttercream icing. They are both to die for and Mama taught us to make the best homemade lemonade I’ve ever had.”

“So what should we call the shop?” Polly asked.  “The Lemon Peel? The Lemon Bakery? The Lemon Tree Café?…”

“Oh, I love that last name, The Lemon Tree Café.” Myrtle grinned. ” We could make some light sandwiches to serve for lunch, too, drawing in more crowd.”

Polly looked across at her sister. “One thing to think about. We’re not girls anymore, and I think we should limit the hours of this shop from the start, giving ourselves a day or two off every week and not having grueling hours every day.”

“I agree,” Myrtle said. “I don’t want to be working day and night either. How about ten to four for our hours, maybe Tuesday through Saturday only. Most of the stores and shops around us don’t open until ten. We can have coffee and hot tea early in the mornings with homemade donuts and lemon scones for the early shoppers and then offer fresh lemonade, iced tea, and sandwiches around noon with all our other bakery items. I think we could handle those hours and a limited menu.”

“I admit I’m getting excited thinking about it,” Polly said. “I also won’t be sad to give up my cleaning. It’s very physical work and it gets harder every year.” She paused. “Where would you want to live?”

“Somewhere close to the shop, like where we’re staying now. If the weather is nasty or if there is snow I don’t want to be high up on some mountain. Even being close enough to walk in to the shop would be great.”

“I like the idea of being really close to the store, too. One of us could go home if needed or if we got sick or something.” Polly smiled. “I think with a little shop that might get slow in the off seasons we could trade out days on being at the store, too.”

They talked over ideas all evening and the next day after looking at the store with the realtor,  Jack Teague, a personable fellow. He was able to show them profit sheets and the income the store had brought in for the previous owners. The nice owner of The Apple Tree store next door, Raynelle Oliver, came over to tell them more about the store’s popularity as did several other people Jack Teague gave them as references who had worked at the store. The sisters even called and talked to the past owners later that evening who were pleased someone might carry the business on.

Myrtle prayed a lot through the next week. She and Polly had promised each other to think and pray about the decision for a week. They knew this meant possibly losing the sale to someone else, but they wanted to be sure in their hearts once away from the mountains.

Early Friday morning the next week, Polly called. “I know it hasn’t been a whole week yet, but I want us to buy the store. I dreamed about it last night, saw us laughing and talking with customers, baking and loving sharing what we’d made with locals and tourists. It was such a happy dream. If you don’t have misgivings, let’s do it Myrtle. We’ll have a wonderful little store to run. We’ll have each other to love and care about, and from what we saw, we’ll have friendly, warm-hearted good neighbors nearby. I just felt sad and letdown when I came back home. My work all week has felt bleak and unhappy, too, with my clients making ungrateful, snippy comments about how inconvenienced they were because I took a week off last week. They were all so selfish and unkind,” she went on. “Then my neighbor next door made a snotty remark about how my grass didn’t get cut last week.”

Myrtle laughed. “I talked to the woman I work with. She’s thrilled about buying out the catering business. I had a realtor value the house, too. It’s paid for, and I’ll make a huge profit for it since the value of houses in this area has soared. I’m ready to do this, too, Polly, and so excited about it.”

“Well, that’s why I called early, so we might drive to the mountains and finalize the store sale today. I worried the realtor, Mr. Teague, might be too busy to take time to meet with us tomorrow and I didn’t want to wait until Monday. It will take us only about two hours to drive from your place to Townsend. If you want to call and set up an afternoon appointment with Jack Teague, I’ll head your way.”

And so it was that Myrtle and Polly Kirkpatrick became the new owners of the Lemon Tree Café in Townsend, Tennessee, soon becoming a loved business for not only the fabulous, homemade baked goods the sisters created fresh nearly every day, but of the two sisters themselves who met every customer with warmth and joy.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

If you enjoy my books, you will run into Myrtle and Polly Kirkpatrick in all three of my books set in Townsend … TELL ME ABOUT ORCHARD HOLLOW, where you’ll meet Boyce Hart and Raynelle Oliver, too, … in DOWN BY THE RIVER set on the Little River where you’ll meet realtor Jack Teague … and in my latest Townsend book THE RED MILL. BOOKSTORE. And the next time you eat a lemon cookie, a lemon square, or a piece of lemon pie, think of Myrtle and Polly and the Lemon Tree Café and smile.

Note: All photos my own, from royalty free sites, or used only as a part of my author repurposed storyboards shown only for educational and illustrative purposes, acc to the Fair Use Copyright law, Section 107 of the Copyright Act.