The Birthday List(87)

I didn’t care that she wasn’t a paying customer. I cared that she was young—probably only sixteen—and she seemed to be surviving on my free cookies alone. She’d gotten visibly thinner in just the time she’d been coming to The Maysen Jar.

But whenever any of us would approach and offer her something, she’d politely decline and leave the restaurant. So yesterday, Molly and I had told our staff to tell us immediately the next time the girl came in.

“Do me a favor,” I told Helen. “Go put a chicken potpie and apple pie in the toaster oven, then make a vanilla latte. I’m going to get this soup on the stove and then I’ll be out.”

While Helen went to prepare the food, I hurried to finish my chopping and toss the veggies into my chicken stock. With the burner set to simmer, I washed my hands and untied my apron. When I came out front, Helen had everything on a tray.

“Thank you.” I took the tray. “Wish me luck.”

She crossed her fingers and smiled.

The girl noticed me when I hit the halfway point of the restaurant. She sat straighter, shoving a paper into her textbook before stuffing them both in a canvas backpack.

So I picked up my pace before she could escape. “Hi.” I set down the tray just as she stood from her chair. “Please don’t go. Please.”

She eyed me warily but sat back down.

“Thank you.” I took the chair across from her. “My name is Poppy. This is my restaurant.”

The girl looked to the food, swallowing hard, then back up to my face, but she didn’t speak.

“I was hoping you could do me a favor. I made a few changes to my piecrust recipe,” I lied. “Maybe you could try these and give me your honest opinion. Tell me what you think.”

“Oh, um, I don’t—”

“I know it’s after lunch and you might not be hungry, but even just a couple bites would help. And it’s free, of course. Taste testers don’t have to pay. What do you say? Lend me your taste buds?”

Her eyes dropped to the food again, and this time, she licked her lips. “Okay.”

Victory! I held back my smile and stood. “I’ll let you eat without me hovering. Just don’t leave before you tell me what you think.”

She nodded and waited for me to step back before she picked up her napkin and silverware.

I turned and walked right back to the kitchen, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. Then I stood in the middle of the kitchen, counting to one hundred, before I came back out to the counter, pretending to take inventory of the display case.

“Is she eating?” I whispered to Helen.

“Yeah.”

I sighed. “Good. I’m going to go make the noodles for the soup so they can dry for a while. When she’s close to done, come and get me.”

Helen nodded. “You got it.”

I’d never made noodles so fast in my life. Nervous energy poured from my fingertips as I kneaded the dough, and by the time Helen came back to get me from the kitchen, I had the noodles all rolled and cut.

With a towel in my hand, I walked back to the girl’s table and smiled. She’d finished everything except for the vanilla latte, which had gone untouched. “What did you think?”

“It was really good.”

“Great!” I cheered and sat down. “I’ll keep those changes then. Did you not like the coffee?”

She dropped her eyes to her lap. “I, um . . . can’t have coffee.”

“Are you allergic?”

It was a stupid question. The minute I asked, my eyes wandered to her stomach.

Her coat, which she’d always kept closed, was now unbuttoned. Underneath she was wearing a fitted black shirt that molded to her rounded belly.

“Oh!” I smiled wider, hoping to hide my shock that this young girl was pregnant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. How about a hot chocolate instead?”

“That’s okay.”

The girl spoke so quietly, I leaned my arms on the table to hear her better. “Are you sure? I make the cocoa mix from scratch. I’d be happy to make you one . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

She pulled her coat tight around her shoulders without an answer or eye contact.

Was she afraid of me? Or was she worried she was in trouble? I didn’t want to scare her away from coming back, but I also didn’t want her to leave before I got some answers. This girl might not be asking for help, but she needed it.

“You’re not in trouble.” I gently placed my hand on the table. “You’re welcome here anytime. If all you want are cookies and water, that’s fine with me. Take as much as you’d like and stay as long as you’d like. I’ll even mark this table reserved for you.”

Her head was still ducked, but I caught a faint nod.

“And if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I’ll leave you alone, but I’d like to get to know you. I like to know all of my regular customers.”

I waited. And waited. But she still didn’t move. I was about to give up when her face lifted and she gave me a shy smile.

“Belle.”

“Belle. That’s a beautiful name.” I held out my hand. “I’m Poppy Maysen.”

She took my hand and looked around the room. “Maysen. Spelled like the restaurant?”