The Yellow Pine

Chapter 5 - Opportunity Knocks

Debra Jo Cooke turned to watch the moving truck as it trundled down the street by her brand-new house. A beautiful little girl with long, raven black pigtails waved excitedly from the front seat, while the man she assumed was the girl's father nodded deliberately in acknowledgement as they rolled slowly past. She watched them round the bend of her short cul-de-sac, and was disappointed to see them keep going to the main stretch to the row of houses further in. It would have been nice to have that cheerful looking little girl as a neighbor.

She stooped over for the bags of groceries she was in the process of unloading from her car and carried them slowly inside. The new grocery store in town was nice, but she still missed the old Piggly Wiggly that had been her only source of foodstuffs since she'd been a little girl. The new Kroger was larger, cleaner, and had better selection, but they were more expensive, and didn't carry the small local brands she'd grown accustomed to. She'd had to adjust all her recipes, and some would never taste the same as she'd always made them. The worst was the peanut butter. Her thumbprint cookies depended on a rich, oily peanut butter, and the My Family brand they had at the Piggly Wiggly was perfect. She'd yet to find a suitable replacement. Jif, Peter Pan and all the other "name brand" peanut butters were sweeter and lacked the layer of oil that gave her cookies that richness her bakery was known for. She believed that God would help her find the right replacement before the rest of the town filled up and business started in earnest.

Debra Jo was one of the few local residents with the means to take Estero Appalachian Development, LLC up on their generous offer to sell homes and starter businesses to the inhabitants of the nearby Tri-Cities of Cumberland, Benham and Lynch at little more than cost. So far, she only knew of one other local that had made the move up the mountain to the new town of Cambria, and, God forgive her, she didn't much care for him. She loved Lester Byrd, of course; he was one of God's children and deserving of her love, but in her few interactions with him, he'd been about as friendly as a bear with a toothache. She made sure to say a special prayer for him right then. She certainly hoped that the other new residents who were slowly beginning to arrive from all over would be better company. Lord willing, she'd even be able to bring the Good Word of the Lord to a few lost souls up here.

She stepped into the new house, and breathed in the smell of fresh paint and lumber. She'd never been in such a clean, new place in her entire life. Growing up in nearby Lynch, her family had lived in the refurbished century-old company houses that had been installed for the early mining families in the area, like most people she knew. The plumbing was ancient and unpredictable, the wiring was downright dangerous, and up until a few years ago, she'd still used a vintage coal-oil furnace for heat in the winter. The small bakery she'd inherited from her mother when she was just thirty years old had been built as part of the strip of business that lined Main Street in the early sixties and had served as several different establishments over the decades. For years, she had toiled endlessly to keep the place running, while the other shops and offices around her closed up one after another. The novelty of owning not one, but two, brand-new buildings in what was promised to soon be a bustling town made her feel as giddy as a young girl on a first date. She touched the smooth, light blue walls lovingly and smiled.

She'd waited her whole life to start a grand adventure and exchange her boring life for something more exciting and fulfilling. While her siblings and cousins, with whom she'd spent countless hours in church, at church camp and religious retreats, all left the region for bigger and better options, Debbie Jo had stayed behind in the Tri Cities, working at her bakery and going to church, day in and day out. Her brother had traveled the world as a missionary, her youngest sister had married a young traveling revivalist, and her oldest sister had gone off to college and taken a job in Ohio. Of her myriad cousins, some had joined the military, others had gone to college, and some had just moved off to places that had more jobs and opportunities than could be afforded in Appalachia. She had never wed, and spent most of her thirties and forties praying to God for the right man to come into her life. It seemed like everyone in the world had gotten to have some sort of great adventure but her. Well, this would be her adventure: starting a new business in a brand new resort town, meeting people from all over the United States (maybe even the world!) and sharing her love of Christ and cookies to each and every one.

As she put her groceries away, and set aside the supplies she would be taking to the baker later, she hummed a hymn and thought about putting together a welcome basket for that little girl and her daddy.

Later that afternoon, she was at her bakery, Cooke's Cookies putting the final touches on her decor while the massive ovens warmed up for their inaugural run. Several pans of shaped dough lined the counters in straight and orderly rows, and the air was redolent with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon. As she straightened the delicately ornate bistro chairs, the light tinkling of her door's overhead bells made her spin about in surprise. "Hello? Sorry, are you open yet?" An attractive young woman of obvious Hispanic descent poked her head cautiously into the room. "Oh, not quite, honey. But, come on in. I'm just fixin' to toss a batch in the oven, if ya'll don't mind waitin'. You can be my guinea pig." She brushed absently at the flour that dusted the front of her apron, silently wishing that she'd thought to don a clean one before entering the front of the store. It was very important to keep a clean appearance when selling foodstuffs, and Debra Jo was fastidious to a fault. The young woman beamed out a lovely smile. "Thank you. I'm just killing time before Dad gets here with the moving truck. My name is Flora." Daintily taking a seat in the chair that Debra Jo had pulled out for her, the young woman continued. "He texted me a minute ago and said they stopped to eat at someplace near Harlan. I didn't think I was that far ahead of them!" Her laugh was light and musical. Debra Jo smiled. "So, you movin' in hereabouts?" Flora blinked, carefully parsing the words and trying to make sense of the older woman's heavy accent. "Um, yeah. We bought a house in the cul-de-sac, and Dad and Jenaia are going to open a theatre. I'm just here until school starts, you know, to help them get settled." Seizing the first moment she could to speak while Flora stopped for a breath, Debra Jo quickly clarified, "The cul-de-sac? Which house? I'm at 103." "Oh! Then we're neighbors! Dad bought 104, right next to you. We looked at getting one of the ones a little further down Magnolia Lane, but the houses on Honeysuckle Loop all have those wrap-around porches, and once Jenaia saw that, she just had to have one." "Well, welcome, neighbor! Gimme just a minute, and I'll get those cookies going. Do you want some coffee or tea?"

Over cups of steaming hot tea, the ladies chatted about what had brought them to this new community, and Debra Jo was more than happy to share her knowledge of the area with the young Floridian. "You've never seen real snow? Oh, honey, bless your heart. You are in for a shock come winter!" Flora grinned around a bite of chocolate chip cookie. "I can't wait. I've seen it in pictures, and in movies, but never in real life. I guess I'm going to have to do some shopping for warmer clothes soon, huh?" Before long, Flora's phone began to chirp out a popular tune in tinny notes. Looking at the glowing screen and shoving the last bite of cookie in her mouth, she smiled. "Well, finally. They're just rolling up the hill now, and want me to meet them at the house to help unload. Thank you for the cookie and the tea. It was wonderful." "Now, hold on a second. You aren't going anywhere empty-handed. Let me box up a dozen for your Dad and your step-mom." Debra Jo bustled to the kitchen, grabbing and folding a pink pastry box with practiced ease. "Do they have any favorites, or should I just put in a few of each? How about peanut butter, no allergies, are there?" Flora assured her that anything would be fine, insistently pressed a few bills into her hand, and thanked her again as she went back out the front door, arms heavy with well more than a dozen cookies, leaving the bell chiming happily behind her.

Satisfied at her surprise first customer, Debra Jo locked the door after her, and set about cleaning up the kitchen and setting the remaining cookies out for display. It was getting late now, and she hadn't had time to decorate the sugar cookies with icing yet, but that would give her something to do in the morning, while her breakfast pastries were baking. Looking down at the crumpled five dollar bill and few ones that Flora had stubbornly given her, she thought about framing one of them, like she'd seen other businesses do. "Our First Dollar" - it was a cute idea, but she wasn't sure she wanted to make it look like money was the important thing about her shop. "Money is the root of all evil", after all. She decided against it, and cheerfully flattened the bills out into the empty cash register, and headed home for the night.