The Chicken Sisters(102)

Barbara hesitated, and Amanda watched Mae play her trump card. She knew what her sister was trying to do—get Barbara out of the house before she had a chance to start putting things that “we might need” or “I could sell” back inside. “Of course,” Mae said thoughtfully, “if you need Andy . . .”

Barbara got up instantly. “I’m fine, Mae,” she said, and looked at Gus. “I know you’re good on the baseball field,” she said. “You any good in the kitchen?”

Gus nodded, with a glance at Amanda. She smiled encouragingly. “I am,” he said. Barbara took his hand, and together they marched off for the restaurant.

“Nice one,” said Amanda softly to her sister, and Mae laughed.

“Andy,” she said, “Mom’s kitchen? It’s a nightmare. But the more we get out while we’ve got that giant dumpster thing they brought, the better.”

Andy nodded. “I’ll help,” said Jay, and Amanda watched doubt temper Mae’s resolve. Jay smiled reassuringly, and as he did, Kenneth walked up, followed by Patrick, each carrying a container of iced coffees.

“We,” Kenneth said, “are in, too. Patrick will check the basement for the valuable antiques I am dead sure aren’t in there, and I will provide Andy and Jay with additional hard labor in return for the promise of what I understand is the Mimi’s-and-Frannie’s famous fried chicken dinner.”

Mae and Amanda both looked at him, surprised.

“Ran into Sabrina on the way out, arguing with someone about how to set this up for tomorrow morning’s big winner announcement,” he said. “News travels fast.”

Patrick passed out the coffees, and, for Frankie, with a flourish, “your favorite lemonade.” A pump of lavender syrup, and a pump of pomegranate, Amanda knew.

“Okay,” Mae said. “Jay, Andy, and Kenneth in the kitchen. Frankie and Patrick in the basement. Frankie, make sure he throws nearly everything away, okay? I don’t trust him. He looks like a saver. You, on the other hand—your mom told me about you.”

Frankie grabbed her lemonade and hurried off. Amanda could tell she was pleased, but still a little wary of her aunt; Amanda had a feeling Mae would win her over soon. The patio began to empty, and Mae turned to Amanda and Nancy. After a moment, she stuck out her hand at Nancy.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Mae. Let’s start over.”

Nancy laughed a little. It was hard to resist Mae when she wanted to be charming.

Mae pulled a chair up close to Nancy as the basement crew headed for the house, and took a sip of her coffee. “I think the three of us need a sit-down,” she said, glancing at Amanda. Was Mae actually asking for her help here? She waited, unsure, and Mae kept talking, a little nervously. “Amanda and I—we’re just trying to figure out what to do. About Mimi’s, and Frannie’s, and this whole—” She gestured around her.

“War,” said Nancy, and she leaned back in her chair and looked at them both.

Mae looked as though she didn’t know how to take that, but Amanda knew Nancy was just waiting. Nancy knew the value of listening to other people talk, even if they didn’t want to. Nancy and Mae had never had a chance to get along, but maybe they could. If Mae could back off a little and let Nancy step up to be part of whatever she had in mind. Amanda jumped in, hoping to help. “Mae and I kind of figured out that we’re in this together. We have a lot we can work together on, at least. No more pushing each other under the Food Wars bus.”

Nancy shook her head. “I think that Sabrina could get anybody riled up if she tried.”

Mae and Amanda both laughed. “We’re trying to—end that,” Mae said. “And Amanda said that you said . . . something about not running Frannie’s anymore.”

Wait, they were going there? Straight there? Amanda rushed in, trying to soften it, but there was no way this didn’t just look like she’d been telling Mae all their business. “I didn’t just tell her,” she began. “I mean, we were talking—”

“It’s okay,” said Nancy. “You’re right. I said it. You said you might want to do something else, and I just thought—I don’t know what I thought. You started this, Amanda. And I know you were thinking we could grow Frannie’s, and you’re right, my Frank had big dreams in that direction. And I was excited. I thought I wanted that too. But then we got so busy, and there were so many more people, and I kept thinking, what if it’s always like this? What if the staff is always frantic, and I’ve got that many more hours to work every day . . . and then to do it, not just without Frank, but without you . . .”

She trailed off, and fortunately Mae had the sense not to interrupt. “I want you to figure out what you want to do with your life, Amanda. I really do. I guess I was thinking maybe I want to figure out what to do with my life, too. I like Frannie’s. I just don’t know if I want to do all that alone.”

Amanda wanted her to go on. They talked, they did, but never like this. Never about all this time, running somebody else’s dream. Somebody—two somebodies, who were never coming back.

Mae, though, had an agenda. “Yeah, I can see that,” she said, and Amanda could tell she was trying not to rush past the moment, but she just couldn’t help herself. Mae would always be Mae, and Amanda watched her sister lean forward, blue eyes sparkling, to touch Nancy on the knee, hoping her mother-in-law knew that Mae meant well.