Charming for Mother's Day (A Calendar Girls Novella) (13 page)

             
“No. I’m not. Picture it, Lucie. I was a long way from Long Island and Snug Harbor. In Stanford, the name, Murriere, meant nothing. Compared to some of my classmates, my father was no better than a bean farmer. It was a pretty humbling experience for me.”

             
My lips twisted. “I’ll bet.”

             
“I’m serious. I met this girl there.” He looked across the room, staring at some empty table in the dark corner as if he saw some phantom seated there. “Fiona. You don’t need to know her last name.”

             
I didn’t need to know her at all, as far as I was concerned, but I nodded, prodding him to continue.

             
“Her family was a big deal. Bigger than mine. Like Vanderbilt big. Kennedy big. In some ways, she reminded me of you. Not in her looks or her pedigree or her background, which were all beluga caviar and imported champagne.” He placed his forehead against mine and bopped my nose with two fingers. “No jalapeño in her at all. But she had your drive, your spark. She never challenged me the way you did, which at the time, I thought I wanted. Then again, no one ever challenged me the way you did. She was a pale, overbred imitation of the one person who made me feel alive and happy. The closest I’d get to ever having you in my life. And then the most amazing thing happened.”

             
“What happened?”

             
“I took a cooking class for one of my electives. One class on world cuisine, and I was hooked. I loved the frenetic pace and the heat and the aromas. Cooking excited me more than number-crunching and marketing ever could. I decided I wanted to be a chef. So I changed direction, ditched my business degree, and enrolled in culinary school. My father was less than thrilled. He insisted if I wanted to pursue this “crazy dream” of mine, I should see what I was in for. I took a job in a local restaurant, started as a dishwasher before becoming a busboy, then a waiter, and so on. I even worked as a maître d’ for a while.”

             
“You did?”

             
He nodded. “But I wasn’t nearly as good at it as you are. You’ve got a knack for making every customer feel like they’ve been welcomed into a warm and loving home. That’s a gift.”

             
“Uh-huh.” Did he really think I’d be satisfied with a shallow compliment now? Never mind. “So what happened? With you and
Fiona
?” I practically choked on the name.

             
“One night when I was bussing tables, I heard a familiar laugh. I turned and saw her with some guy. Another name from the society pages. They were all cuddled up together, kissing and holding hands so I knew he wasn’t just a friend or a long-lost cousin. I was stunned because I thought she and I had something, you know? I mean, at this point, we’d been dating for almost three years.”

             
Jealousy pricked me, but compassion soothed the sting. I knew how it felt to love someone who didn’t feel the same way. “What’d you do?”             

              He shrugged. “I had a job to do. I filled her water glass, along with her date’s, and said hello. When the guy she was with asked how she knew me, she said, ‘He’s my macroeconomics tutor.’”

             
“Ouch.” I winced in empathy. “That must’ve hurt.”

             
“Actually, it didn’t. Oh, I admit, my pride was stung. But what it actually did was show me how much I’d hurt you. I realized she never took me seriously because I didn’t come from the same social or financial level as her family.” He took my hand again. “I saw it all so plainly. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I tossed you away because my parents wouldn’t think you were good enough. And I realized I had to prove to you that I wasn’t that...”

             
He seemed to be searching for the right word. “Jerk,” I supplied.

             
“Jerk,” he agreed. “I wasn’t that same insecure jerk you’d known. I was going to get out from under my father’s thumb, change the direction of my life, and come back to Snug Harbor. Maybe even find you. After I won ‘All Star Chef,’ I knew exactly where I wanted to open my new restaurant. I got lucky when I found out Sidney was ready to sell. I didn’t blink when he mentioned the maître d’ was his daughter-in-law. Then you waltzed into the kitchen, and I realized you were the girl that got away all those years ago. I knew the minute I saw you, but it seemed to me you didn’t want to acknowledge we were more than acquaintances. I assumed you’d never told your father-in-law about us, and with your little girl right there...” He tilted his head toward one shoulder. “I rolled with it. I think now that was a mistake. I probably should have apologized to you then and there instead of allowing more bricks to build in the wall between us.”

             
He stood, smoothing his hands down the thighs of those hard-packed black jeans. “I want us to start over, Lucie. I know I made mistakes with you. I was a dumb kid, and I didn’t know what I had in you. I wasn’t ready for an intense, serious relationship. Now I am.”

             
“Uh-huh.”

             
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? ‘Uh-huh?’”

             
I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. Rising from the chair, I headed for the bar to pick up what was left of my water. I tried to borrow strength from the ancient elm—uprooted during a devastating hurricane and reborn into this gleaming counter. I absorbed the pride of the stately tree, remembered its stubborn refusal to die, and compared my heartache to that hurricane. He might have returned, and he might have assumed I’d hung around here, waiting for him to decide he was “ready” for me, but I had news for him.

             
“What more do you want me to say, Colin? You say you’ve changed. I believe you. After all, you were twenty-two when I last saw you. Since then, you’ve become a chef, a television star, and now a restaurant owner. But...here’s the thing. When you last saw me, I was nineteen.  Since then, I’ve become a wife, a mother, a widow, and now I’m working toward my architectural engineering degree. So what makes you think I’ve stayed the same dumb kid I was when you dumped me?”

             
“I never said that.”

             
I swigged more water from the bottle. “You didn’t have to say it. You’ve made your thoughts crystal clear to me. What do you think? I’m Sleeping Beauty? And I’ve just been waiting for you, my Prince Charming, to come back to Snug Harbor, kiss me, and wake me up?”

             
He stalked toward me, all dark grace and intensity. When he got to the opposite side of the bar, he leaned over until his lips were a breath from mine. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

             
I scooped up the water bottle and pressed it to my lips, creating an effective barrier. “Let’s not.”

             
“You’re everything to me, Lucie. Always have been. I’ve just been too stupid to realize it until now.”

             
“That’s a shame,” I said. “Because now, it’s too late.”

Chapter 9

Ariana

             
Stop it! I’m not your girl!

             
Mom’s shout woke me up. Who was she yelling at? I slipped off the cot and tiptoed to the office door. The restaurant was quiet, all the staff gone except for the three of us: me, Mom, and Chef Colin. I stayed in the office, the door cracked open enough for me to hear what they talked about without them seeing me.

             
I listened to everything Chef Colin said, and I was so proud of him. He apologized for what he’d said and told her he wanted to start over. He even called himself a jerk—although, technically, Mom used the name first.

             
Still...

             
He was perfect. Mom was sure to forgive him now. Hooray! Soon, he and Mom would get married and dance off into a beautiful life.

             
Until I heard Mom say he was too late. No!

             
I was about to run out there and tell her she was wrong when I heard him say, “It’s never too late, Lucie. You just need time.”

             
Told ya. Prince material. Ready to fight for the princess.

             
But one thing I’d learned from all the time I spent watching
Aladdin
and
The Little Mermaid
and even
Beauty and the Beast
, was that the princess had to be ready to fight for her prince, too.

             
And I wasn’t really sure Mom was one hundred percent princess material. Yet. But she would be. Look how well I’d done with Prince Colin. Princess Lucie would be a piece of cake.

Lucinda

             
On the third Sunday in April, Colin closed the restaurant to patrons so the staff could throw a farewell party for Sidney, who would officially leave New York early Monday morning. I still couldn’t believe he would be gone from my life so soon. Oh, sure, he’d still be a part of my life via phone and cards and email, but I wouldn’t be able to see him at a moment’s notice. I wouldn’t hear his laugh in the G & O anymore. For his sake and for Ariana’s, I put on my game face for the afternoon.

             
My daughter had me puzzled. Maybe all the recent late bedtimes had wreaked havoc with her behavior. She was a whirling dervish of questions all morning. Odd questions. Like, “Have you ever apologized for something but the person wouldn’t accept your apology?” and “What’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for you?” and “What was the happiest day in your life?”

             
After about thirty minutes, I finally asked, “What’s with all the questions?”
              “Homework,” she said. “I have to interview someone special to me.”

             
How sweet. “You should interview Grandpa,” I advised. “After all, this will probably be your last chance to talk to him for a while.”

             
She seemed to consider that suggestion, but eventually shook her head. “This isn’t a one-day project. I’ll probably be asking you questions for a while.”

             
Terrific.

             
Now, inside the G & O, she hovered around Colin while I stayed as far away from him as I could without having to step outside. Laughter spilled from one corner, including Sidney’s distinctive whinny. I sipped a bottle of water and fussed with the trays of appetizers laid out across the bar.

             
Someone had switched the music system from the usual romantic instrumental songs, meant to enhance the restaurant’s ambience, to raucous dance pop—the kind of stuff I danced to in my carefree youth.

             
Ariana scampered over and grabbed my hand. “Dance with me.”

             
“No, baby,” I told her while she continued to drag me into the middle of the open floor. “I can’t. I’m still hurting a little, remember?”
              Disappointment fell over her face, but in the flap of a butterfly’s wing, she brightened. “That’s okay.” Craning her body around me, she yelled, “Jordan? Play a slow song, okay?”

             
Jordan, hovering near the sound system in front of the cloak room, flashed a thumbs-up. The heavy drums and techno beat faded to a lone piano.

             
“Better?” Ari wrapped her arms around my waist, and I had no choice but to slow dance around the room with her while everyone watched.

             
After a few turns on the floor, she called out, “Grandpa? Come dance with us.”

             
Sidney left his circle of friends and wrapped one arm around each of us, and we moved in an awkward graceless dance until our little ringleader bent outside our group one last time. “Chef Colin, we need you.”

             
We did? I didn’t get a chance to blink before I found Colin making our trio into a quartet.

             
“This isn’t working,” Ari announced with disdain. “Grandpa, sweep me away like Belle and the Beast.”

             
Next thing I knew, I was locked in Colin’s embrace while Sidney waltzed off with my daughter.

             
“I think,” I said to Colin, “I was just outmaneuvered by an eight-year-old.”

             
His chuckles washed over me like a warm, refreshing sea breeze. “At least, you’ve got company.”

             
“You weren’t in on this?”

             
“God, no. I’m as much a victim as you are.”

             
A smile played around his lips and I shook my head. “Nice try. I almost believed you that time.”

             
“I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this.”
              “Oh, yeah? Then, why are you smiling?”