The Devine Doughnut Shop(64)

“Seven is good. I’m in room 201 of the Sugar Sands,” she told him, already worrying about how to tell the rest of the family the news.

“Great!” Travis sounded genuinely excited. “Invite the rest of your family to come along with us. Calvin has bragged about a restaurant there called the Perfect Pig for years. Maybe we’ll go there. I haven’t been down in that area in more than a decade, so I’m sure it’s changed. We can discover and rediscover all the fun places together.”

“In one night?” she asked.

“No, in one week,” he chuckled. “See you later—and thank you, Grace.”

One week? She started to say something, but he ended the call before she could get a word out.

“What was that all about?” Macy asked.

“Did I hear you make a date with Travis?” Sarah sputtered before Grace could open her mouth. “What’s going on?”

“We all have a date tomorrow night, and we’ll be going to a place called the Perfect Pig. Let’s go get some sleep because in the morning, before we go shopping, we’re going for doughnuts at Thomas’s. We’ll see if it can run us some competition.” Grace stood up and extended a hand.

Macy put her hand in Grace’s and allowed her to pull her up. “I’d bet that nobody in any state can make doughnuts better than we do.”

Sarah got to her feet without any help. “I’ll do some research on the doughnut place as well as the restaurant, but why do we all have a date?”

Grace looked up at the night sky one more time and saw a falling star as it zipped through the darkness and appeared to land in the water way out there on the far horizon. “I get to make a wish. I just saw a falling star.”

“I’d say that’s a good start to our vacation—but you didn’t answer my question,” Sarah said.

“Travis said to invite the whole family, and I need your support. I want y’all to give me your opinion just in case he asks me for a second date.” Grace could hear her mother’s voice again: Grace Dalton, you don’t need anyone’s support or advice. You’ll know if he’s not worth a second date, and you’re strong enough to tell him no about that just like you did on selling the business.

Thanks for that vote of confidence, Mama, but I’m not bringing anyone into the family without their approval.

“We’ve got your back—and believe me, we will put him to the test. No more cons or sleazy men are going to sneak into our family,” Macy said.

“And if we find out he’s lied to you about anything, we will put an end to any more dates. There’s plenty of fish in the sea around these parts,” Sarah told her.



“I have a closet full of nice things at home,” Macy groaned the next day when they went into the little pastry-and-burger shop a couple of miles down the road, “and I . . .” She stopped inside the door and took a deep breath. “This place smells amazing. Do you think this is what hits our customers’ noses when they walk into our shop?”

“What has the smell of pastries got to do with whatever is in your closet?” Audrey asked.

“I’m old, remember? So my mind jumps from one subject to another,” Macy said with a grin. “I was about to say that I wish I had brought more clothes with me so we wouldn’t have to leave the beach and go shopping, but then I got a whiff of the doughnuts. Do y’all realize that we never get to eat pastries from another bakery?”

“I’m a thrifter,” Raelene said, “and why would anyone eat doughnuts from another place? That would be like choosing bologna over steak.”

“That’s a sweet thing to say,” Macy told her.

One of Raelene’s shoulders raised in half a shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“What’s a thrifter?” Audrey asked.

“I like secondhand stores, thrift shops, and consignment places,” Raelene answered with a slight blush.

The folks in front of them got their food and went outside to eat at one of the picnic tables, and then the girl behind the counter smiled at Macy. “Good morning. What can I get you today?”

“We’d like five bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits; half a dozen glazed doughnuts; three black coffees; and two chocolate milks,” Macy answered and turned around to face the other four. “This morning, it’s my treat, and I want to hear more about this thrift business. I’ve heard of those kind of stores, but we never have time to check them out.”

The girl who had taken their order cocked her head to one side. “How did you know that I’m a thrifter?”

“I’m so sorry,” Macy said and pointed to Raelene. “I was talking to her. She was about to tell us about shopping in thrift stores.”

“Want a list of which ones are good and which ones to steer away from around here?” the girl asked.

“That would be great,” Raelene answered. “Did you get that shirt at one?”

“Yep,” she answered with a smile. “Everything in my closet comes from thrift stores. I love clothes, and I sure don’t make enough to buy brand-new. I could text you the addresses of the good places.”

“I don’t have a phone,” Raelene said.

“I do. Would you text me the list?” Audrey asked.