Karen Christian spent most of her childhood in her grandmother's kitchen, learning the art of cooking and listening to Granny Pickles' words of wisdom about taking the right road in life. Then she marries Chase Beckham, and everything changes. After six years of believing that she has a solid marriage, Karen is shocked when Chase announces he is in love with another woman who is pregnant with his child-a child he has denied Karen. Devastated by his betrayal but determined to rediscover her true self, Karen leaves her lifelong home in Portland, Oregon, and sets out on a cross country quest that leads her to a deserted diner outside Farmers, Kentucky. Feeling she has finally reached her destiny, Karen reopens the Krossroads Diner and begins a new life that includes discovering real love does not come with a game plan. As Karen takes her love for cooking, along with her granny's recipes, and turns a sixty five-year- old diner into a new landmark, she simultaneously transforms herself into the woman she was always meant to be.

New Life at the Krossroads

By Marjorie E. Dufault

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Marjorie E. Dufault
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-2945-6

Chapter One

"You bastard!" Karen Beckham's face glowed red with rage. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her golden eyes reflected a combination of pain and disbelief.

"I didn't do this to hurt you, Kar-O. It just happened."

"Well, forgive me Chase for taking it personally. I just don't recall this part being in the game plan."

The bitterness in her voice made Chase cringe.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? She's pregnant ... and I do love her Kar-O."

The pain on Karen's face reflected only a fraction of the ache that coursed through her entire being. Swallowing back the choked moan that had caught in her throat, she spoke in a calculated effort through clenched teeth.

"The first thing you can do is to stop calling me Kar-O. I've always hated that and you know it. The next thing you can do is get the hell out of my house before I pick something up and throw it at you."

They were standing in the kitchen, and a large French knife sat dangerously close to her hand, causing the color to drain from Chase's face as he backed toward the door.

"I'll leave ... but it's our house, Kar ... en. Call me when you're ready to discuss this calmly."

"We'll see whose house it is after I talk to my lawyer ... and don't count on me calming down any time soon."

As soon as she heard the door slam she picked up the knife and continued chopping vegetables. Tears streamed down her cheeks and with the back of her hand she brushed them away before bursting into trembling sobs. After a few minutes, shaking her head to clear it, Karen continued chopping wildly at a carrot on the cutting board while talking to herself.

"Well what do you expect, Karen Odessa Christian. For six ... no ... make that eight years you have been nothing more than a puppet - with Chase pulling the strings and making every decision regarding your life. What man wants a puppet for a wife?" Looking down at the chopping block she realized that the carrot was more pulverized than chopped, so she laid the knife aside and took a deep breath.

"Pull yourself together, Karen. You've got to figure out what to do."

Reaching behind her, she turned off the oven and then slowly walked over to the temperature controlled wine storage unit behind the bar. She already knew which wine she would select. Chase's treasured Palmers Bordeaux, Vintage 1989. It had been a fifth anniversary gift from his boss. According to Chase, it increased in flavor, as well as value, over the years. He guessed it had cost well over three hundred dollars. They were saving it for a special occasion. Maybe their tenth anniversary, Chase had suggested.

"Well this is about as special as it gets!" she mumbled as she uncorked the rich red wine. "This is the day that I come back to life. My Pinocchio day!"

Laughing bitterly at her own little joke, she headed for the couch, bottle and wineglass in hand. For over an hour she sipped wine in an attempt to numb the pain. Her thoughts were a jumble of past regrets and questions about her future. Pouring the last of the bottle into her glass, she cautiously stood up, walked over to her desk and picked up a legal pad and pen. Sitting down at the dining room table, she began writing. At the top of the page she scribbled in bold large letters: All the things I've put on hold because they didn't fit into Chase's game plan.

With angry determination, she began compiling a list. She wasn't certain which came first, finishing the wine or the list, but at some point she returned to the couch where she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep ... or perhaps she had simply passed out. The mantle clock read three-thirty when Karen awoke with a pounding headache. Stumbling up the stairs and into the bathroom, she took two goodies powders, and then lay down on her bed, fully clothed.

Chapter Two

Karen's eyes popped open when the phone rang. She abruptly sat up, which caused her head to spin, so she closed her eyes again. On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up. She listened to her own voice cheerfully announce that "Karen or Chase can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message at the tone and we will get back to you as soon as possible." The frantic voice that came on the line was her boss, Judy.

"Pick up Kar. If you're there, pick up."

Moving like a sloth, she cautiously reached across to the side table and pressed the speaker button.

"I'm here Judy," she said in a groggy rasp.

"Why? Why are you there? The Goodwins are due here at nine and you promised you could have them out of the office by ten."

"I'm ... not feeling well. Can you handle them for me?"

"But you have all the papers with you and I have a nine o'clock appointment as well."

"What about Martha. Is she there?"

"Well yes, but if she has to do the paperwork she'll expect to get half credit for the sale. You won't make the Million Dollar Club without this sale and tomorrow's the last day."

"How close is Martha?"

"About the same as you, but ..."

"Give her the whole thing. Consider it an early wedding gift."

"Are you out of your mind? What's really going on Kar? I don't like your tone."

"Just do it Judy. Please-for me. I'll explain everything later. The contract is in my computer. You can print up another copy. You know my password."

She hung up before Judy could say anything further.

Forty minutes later, showered and still battling the remains of last night's headache, she headed for the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. As she passed the dining room table, she spotted the legal pad. Vaguely remembering making some kind of list, she stared at the pad in confusion.

After reading her words at the top of the page, she snickered at the two bold underlines beneath Chase's name. The list read;

1. Having a baby 2. Going to church regularly 3. My career choice 4. Spending more time with my family 5. Choosing my own friends 6. Living outside the city 7. Buying the home I want 8. Having a baby!! (Again, bold underlines.)

At the bottom of the page was the word "Crossroad;" and beneath it was a large cross. Printed across one line was the word settle; across the other, shine.

She didn't remember doing this, but the memory of Granny Pickles' little lesson on choices was clear in her memory.

Karen paused to reflect on the list realizing that for almost eight years, since first dating Chase, she had settled. Chase had made every decision in their lives from the day they met. He planned every date, every event, and every move they made. He even made certain that their wedding was exactly what he wanted. Her mother thought it was wonderful that he was so involved.

After they were married, he would cut her off when she expressed her desires saying, "Maybe in time. Meanwhile we have to stick to the game plan." The fact that she had never been privy to the overall game plan appeared to be irrelevant. But she never questioned Chase's decisions. Looking back, Karen wondered how she had fallen into this pattern of being manipulated.

Chase Beckham had literally run into her in an employment office. He was returning from an interview with a large corporation that sold computer software; she was inquiring about a cooking position in an upscale restaurant and had just been told that she lacked the required skills-her only experience having been in fast food restaurants during high school. The kind consultant read her disappointment and told her to check out the diner three doors down. She handed her a slip of paper with a man's name on it and told Karen to mention her name.

"The owner's a friend and I happen to know he's looking for kitchen help. It might be a good place to start."

Karen was reading the name on the paper as she headed for the door just as Chase came charging through, knocking her flat on the floor. He apologized profusely, asked if she was okay, and then introduced himself, announcing proudly that he had just landed a primo job.

"Guess I was so excited I didn't see you on the other side of the glass."

She allowed him to help her up, taking his hand saying, "I'm Karen Christian and I didn't have such good luck ... oh ... I didn't mean to imply it was mere luck. You obviously have the proper skills ... qualifications ..." Blushing, she stumbled over her words and finally managed to end with "Congratulations."

"Thanks. I gotta get this over to her." He nodded his head toward the receptionist. "Nice meeting you."

Twenty minutes later she was sitting in a booth at Handi's Midtown Diner filling out an application when Chase walked through the door.

"Fancy meeting you again," he said as he took the seat across from her. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee? I sorta owe you after knocking you down. Is that an application for here you're filling out?"

He wore the same broad smile as earlier. With deep blue eyes, sandy colored hair and an athletic build, he was charming, handsome, and filled with enthusiasm. Karen had never expected to see him again and shyly returned the smile as she accepted his offer.

She got the job at the diner and Chase came by every day at lunchtime for the next month. By the end of the second month, they were dating.

In the beginning, she was so infatuated by his charm, good looks, confidence and enthusiasm, that she was willing to do anything to make him happy. By the time they got married, she was so used to him making all the decisions that she had forgotten how to think for herself. She never recalled having actually discussed a game plan at any particular point. It was just out there!

The first mention of the game plan came when she said she wanted to start a family right away. This was immediately nixed, "until we are well established and can afford to raise our children properly." She now realized this meant; without denying Chase all the things he enjoyed. When she wanted to continue her job as a cook at the diner, he convinced her to take a course in real estate.

"That's where there's money to be made. You'll do great and we'll be able to buy a house sooner."

He constantly reminded her that he was older and more experienced, so she acquiesced to his opinion and got her real estate license three months before they were married.

They were living in an overpriced apartment that she hated when she found a perfect little starter home just outside of Portland. The house was about twenty years old with twelve hundred square feet of living space and a detached garage. It sat on two acres of land, dotted with lovely old trees. Granted, the house needed work, but it was a buyers' market at the time, and they could have bought it for under seventy-five thousand dollars.

Chase's response?

"It'll take years to turn this into something that's re-saleable. We need to wait until we can afford something in a nice suburb where we can double our investment in only a few years."

The house they ended up buying was in an upscale golf course community. The three level monstrosity was far more house than she wanted to maintain, its only redeeming quality being a spacious, well-equipped kitchen. She liked the house as an investment, but knew it wasn't where she wanted to raise a family-which they now couldn't afford because of the astronomical house payments.

Chase's family lived in Oregon City. There was little contact with his parents or his two siblings. Karen couldn't figure them out and stopped trying after he told her to, "Stop worrying about it. Not all families are as touchy, feely as yours. We respect each other's privacy, that's all."

When Karen visited her sister, it was mostly alone. Chase always complained that Amy's three children were far too lively and wore him out with their constant chatter. With her parents, he was all charm, but he rarely joined her at family gatherings. Since he spent so much time on the road, he would opt out by saying he needed to spend some time at home ... just relaxing. "But you have a good time and tell everyone I said hi," he would say as he practically pushed her out the door. Relaxing usually meant an afternoon on the golf course.

None of her close friends from high school or the diner felt comfortable around Chase, and soon their circle of friends consisted mainly of his business contacts and co-workers. It seemed every time they entertained, it had to do with a business deal; or he was schmoozing his bosses.

"It's for our future, Kar-O. If I can get that regional sales manager's position, I won't have to travel so much. We may even be able to start a family if we stick to the game plan."

Working in real estate meant Sundays were mostly work days for her and time on the golf course for Chase. With all the new sub-divisions springing up, she would have to sit in one of the sales offices almost every Sunday for an "Open House." She usually spent the morning preparing snacks that were served to potential buyers-ninety-five percent of whom were just lookers. The only thing she enjoyed about Sundays any more was preparing the snacks. She got the impression that the lookers searched out what sub-division she was working just so they could pig out on her imaginative creations. She was on a first name basis with several couples. The only redeeming factor was that they were usually more interesting to talk to than Chase's acquaintances.

When Chase came home early last evening, she should have known something was wrong as soon as he said that he took off early so they could talk. It was "of the utmost importance." Seeing his furrowed brow, she feared he had lost his job or been transferred.

"Is something wrong, Chase?" she inquired, attempting to keep a calm, reassuring tone to her voice.

Without answering her question, he said, "Let's go into the living room. I'll fix us a drink."

"I have something in the oven that I need to watch. You can tell me whatever it is right here. I don't really want a drink, but you go ahead and make one for yourself."

"I'll pass as well, then."

She couldn't decipher the tentative look on his face and attempted to sound lighthearted as she spoke. "Just say what you have to say, Chase. I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

"It's serious, Karen. I really wish you would ..."

"For God's sake, Chase, you're scaring me. I don't want to leave the kitchen. How is sitting in the living room going to change what you have to say?"

His abrupt reply almost made her knees buckle.

"I want ... I need a divorce."

"You ... need ... a ... divorce? What the hell does that mean? You need a divorce!"

Slumping down on a barstool, Chase buried his face in his hands. His next words came out in a muffled groan.

"I've been having an affair ... actually it's more than that. I've fallen in love with someone else."

The final blow had of course been that his personal assistant, Debbie Whoz-za-ma-jig-it, (she could never remember her last name) was pregnant. Pregnant with the child that Karen had been denied for six years.

That's when she had exploded at him.

Drawing herself back to the present, Karen once again looked down at the legal pad. Picking up the pen, she firmly circled shine.

Chapter Three

The first thing Karen did was to place a call to a real estate lawyer she knew, certain he would be able to give her the name of a good divorce lawyer. After hearing her story, he assured her that the woman he was currently dating was an excellent divorce lawyer. "She could squeeze a goose egg out of a robin if you are so inclined."

"I'm still numb, Jack. Sorta past my anger and ready to get on with my life. I want it fast and clean."

She wrote down the number, called, mentioned Jack's name, and was able to get an appointment for the following morning. Then she set about putting together her current accessible assets.

Karen had never touched the education trust fund set up by Granny Pickles. When she had told Granny she didn't think she wanted to go to college, Granny laughed her adorable little cackle saying, "It's an education fund, cupcake, not a college fund. I intentionally named it that because I know there are all kinds of ways to get an education. Some people get it by traveling, some by working, and others by giving. How you use it is up to you. All I ask is that however you use it, let it be a learning experience-something you want and enjoy." Going online to check the balance, Karen realized her investments had done well. It would be a good start.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from New Life at the Krossroadsby Marjorie E. Dufault Copyright © 2010 by Marjorie E. Dufault. Excerpted by permission.
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