Read Month of Sundays Online

Authors: Yolanda Wallace

Tags: #Dating, #Chefs, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #(v5.0), #Fiction, #Lesbian

Month of Sundays (21 page)

BOOK: Month of Sundays
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“Are you serious about her or are you just looking to have some fun?” Shayanne asked.

“I’m too old for fun.” Rachel nervously cleared her throat when the girls frowned at her attempt at humor. “I don’t know where this is going to lead, but I’m enjoying the journey. And I would never, ever intentionally do anything to hurt your aunt.”

The girls conferred for a few moments before Tracy, the verbally economic member of the trio, passed judgment. “I’ll buy that.”

“Not so fast,” Amber said. “You said the same thing about Veronica, and you were wrong about her.”

“I wasn’t the only one. You liked her, too.”

“Before I realized what a hot mess she was.”

“Dudes, Veronica is yesterday’s news,” Shayanne said. “Can we get back to today’s headlines?”

“One last thing and we can move on.” Amber, the apparent ringleader, turned back to Rachel. “We want to know what your intentions are. Getting us together like this is a cool move and you get major brownie points for it, but did you do it because you thought it would make Aunt Griffin happy or because you thought it would make us like you?”

“Both?”

Tracy held up her hand for a high five. “Good answer.”

*

Duncan downed the rest of his pale ale and clapped Griffin on the back. “If you’re as fond of airplane food as you used to be, you must be starving. Why don’t you get cleaned up so we can head to lunch? I think Tara made reservations at Tapas.”

Tapas Restaurant and Nightclub served up some of the best Spanish cuisine and salsa dancing on the West Coast.

“I love that place,” Griffin said.

“We know,” her brothers said as one.

Pearson patted his stomach. “The portions are too small for me. If you need me, I’ll be at the Benihana down the street.”

“Do it and die.”

Pearson laughed and wrapped one of his burly arms around her neck. “Just kidding, sis.” He easily flipped her over his shoulder. She held her empty beer bottle in a death grip. She wanted to save the container for the picture of Charlie Parker on the label—and the sentimental value she had already attached to it. “Let’s get you back to your girlfriend before she thinks you’ve abandoned her.”

She didn’t bother to correct him. Rachel wasn’t her girlfriend, so to speak, but whatever she was felt pretty good.

Pearson deposited her on the deck just as Amber, Tracy, Layla, and Shayanne walked through the French doors that separated the deck from the living room.

“If you start giving airplane rides next,” Tracy said, “I’m first, Dad.”

“Get in line.” Griffin ruffled Tracy’s stylishly messy hair. The flyaway locks made her look like she had just rolled out of bed, but Griffin was willing to bet she had spent hours in front of a mirror getting it to look that way. “How’s Andrea?”

Tracy beamed at the mention of her girlfriend. “Good. Beyond good. She’s amazing.”

“Are you bringing her to lunch?”

“No. Mom said it was just family today. No girlfriends or boyfriends allowed.”

“Tomorrow then. Bring her to the clambake.”

“For real?”

“The more, the merrier.”

Tracy immediately pulled out her cell phone.

“Speaking of girlfriends.” Amber jerked her thumb toward the living room, where Rachel and Deepika were sharing a laugh. “That one’s a keeper.”

“Yeah,” Layla said. “Don’t screw it up.”

“I’ll try not to. You’re going surfing with Lindsay and me in the morning, aren’t you?”

“Duh. Someone’s got to show you how it’s done.”

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns,” Deepika said when Griffin joined her and Rachel in the living room. “I hope Amber wasn’t too hard on either of you.”

“She didn’t string us up by our thumbs, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Rachel said.

“She’s probably saving that for tomorrow,” Deepika said with an indulgent smile. “See you at the restaurant. It was nice meeting you, Rachel.”

“You, too.”

After Deepika left, Rachel shook her head as if she had been put through the wringer.

“That bad?”

“Your nieces are something else.”

“Please tell me they didn’t give you the treatment.”

“I feel like I’ve been water boarded.”

“Remind me to kill them later.”

“No, don’t do that. I thought what they did was sweet.”

“Torturing you was sweet?”

“No, but caring about you is. I can tell how much they love you. And I’m so glad I get to share this weekend with all of you. If I didn’t know before, I certainly know now: you’re something special.”

She gave Rachel a gentle kiss. “So are you.”

*

“Regular or unleaded?” Daniel asked the next day, offering Rachel a cup of coffee.

While their other halves jogged on the beach or rode the waves, Daniel and the other spouses spent the morning giving themselves some retail therapy. They showed up at the beach house laden with shopping bags and sipping whipped cream-topped Frappuccinos.

Rachel grabbed a skinny latte and a low-fat raspberry muffin from the bag of treats. The group wandered out to the beach to watch Griffin and her brothers quibble over the proper depth to dig the fire pit for the afternoon’s clambake.

Griffin’s neoprene surfing suit was unzipped to the waist, the arms flopping against her legs as she shoveled sand. Her lean muscles flexed in the sun. Her brothers rushed to lend a hand. Sand flew in all directions.

“Do they do everything together?”

“You get used to it,” Daniel, Tara, Shannon, Deepika, and Kelly said in unison.

Joining in the group’s easy laughter, Rachel felt like she had found five sisters she never knew she had. Her days of being an only child were over.

Supervised by their grandfather, Griffin’s younger nieces gathered seaweed at the shoreline, depositing their finds in a large plastic storage container filled with sea water. The older ones were in charge of finding enough round stones to line the bottom of the fire pit. Tracy and her girlfriend Andrea competed to see who could carry the most weight. Heated in a wood fire until they were glowing hot, the stones would radiate heat. Wet seaweed would be placed on top of the rocks, a layer of food alternating with a layer of seaweed until the supply of both was exhausted. The potato sacks that Tucker was soaking in the ocean would trap the heat from the stones, forming the steam that, over the course of several hours, would cook the food.

Daniel and Madeleine documented everything with their cameras, capturing memories that would last long past the end of the meal.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Rachel asked.

“In due time,” Shannon said. “Feeding this rowdy bunch is a ton of work. Getting the portion sizes right, remembering who likes what. Until Griffin rings the dinner bell, let’s enjoy the quiet before the storm.”

“Seeing everyone laughing, smiling, and enjoying each other’s company will make the hard work worth it in the end,” Kelly said. “We should do this more often.”

“Do what?” Deepika asked. She kept a watchful eye on the water, where Griffin, Layla, and Lindsay were paddling out on their surfboards.

“Get together to celebrate something other than a wedding, a funeral, or some other special occasion. We’re always saying we’re going to, but except for Christmas, we never do.”

“You plan it and we’ll be there,” Shannon said.

“So will we,” Tara said.

Daniel winked at Rachel as he took a bite of his bear claw. “See what you started?”

A loud whoop drew Rachel’s attention back to the beach. With her family cheering her on, Griffin chased a huge wave as it barreled toward shore. When she caught up to it, she popped to her feet and pinwheeled her arms as she tried to find her balance.

“Go, Aunt Griffin!” Brandi yelled.

Rachel covered her mouth with her hand. She remembered the story Griffin had told her about her spectacular wipeout when she was nine. She also remembered the cautionary tale she had told her when they arrived the day before.
The waves here break in one to two feet of water
.
Fall off at the wrong time and you could break an arm, a leg, or worse.
If Griffin wiped out now, the results might be disastrous instead of amusing.

Griffin rode the wave all the way in. When her board slid across the wet sand, she hopped off and thrust her arms in the air. Maya and Nicole ran over to give her high fives. Then she turned and pointed at Rachel like a rock star zeroing in on an ardent fan mid-concert.

“I’ve never seen her look this happy,” Kelly said. “You must be doing something right.”

Rachel planned to keep doing it as long as she could.

*

Hours later, the sun had set, night had fallen, and the temperature had cooled considerably. The kids were passed out from sensory overload, the adults were huddled in blankets next to a roaring bonfire. Logan and Kelly provided the entertainment. Logan played acoustic guitar while Kelly sang.

Griffin looked up at the canopy of stars. The same ones she used to make wishes on while she lay spread-eagle in her parents’ backyard. She moved closer to the woman in her arms. Rachel. The woman who had made one of her fondest wishes come true.

“Okay?” she asked, wrapping the blanket tighter around them.

Rachel turned and kissed her cheek. “I’m perfect.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I fielded a call from a fellow realtor today,” Logan said, idly strumming his guitar after Kelly finished singing. “Grandpa’s old place is up for sale again.”

Griffin did a double take. “The comedy club went out of business?”

“I drove by this afternoon to confirm. There’s a For Sale sign in the window.”

Daniel tossed another log on the fire. “You two are always talking about buying the place. Here’s your chance.”

“It’s quite an investment. I don’t know if we can swing it. We do have to put Diamond through college one day, you know.”

“Yeah, in fourteen years.”

“Those years will fly by before we know it. Yesterday, she was learning to crawl. In a few months, she’s going to start kindergarten.”

“I feel your pain,” Kieran said. “If Amber hadn’t earned a free ride to Johns Hopkins, Deepika and I might have to sell a couple of kidneys to scrape up the money to send Layla to USC.”

“I know buying the club would require some serious penny-pinching, but if we all do our part, it wouldn’t hurt quite as much,” Griffin said. “Logan could handle the sale. Ryan could do the renovations. Duncan could create the marketing materials. Pearson could be in charge of security. I could audition the chef and the wait staff. Kelly and the girls could point us toward some good local musicians. Shannon could run the house. And Rachel could do the books. For free, of course.”

Rachel held up a warning hand. “That part’s negotiable.”

Griffin pressed her lips to Rachel’s ear. “I’ll pay you in other ways.”

“It’s a deal.”

Griffin made eye contact with each person huddled around the fire. “We don’t have to make a decision tonight, but let’s give this idea some serious thought. Grandpa’s legacy has been in the hands of strangers for far too long. Isn’t it time we brought it back where it belongs?”

Pearson stood up. “I don’t know about these blockheads, but you’ve convinced me. Count me in.”

He hoisted his bottle of beer. Griffin and her other brothers followed suit. They toasted their joint venture as their parents looked on with pride.

Logan sat down and began playing a celebratory tune on his guitar. Griffin and Rachel remained standing.

“Is this the beach where you had your first kiss?” Rachel whispered.

“The infamous pier is right down there.”

“Show me.”

Logan stopped playing when they began to walk away. “Two at once. Is this a comment on my performance?”

“If you have performance issues, bro, you need to talk it over with Daniel, not with me.”

Griffin led Rachel down the beach to the lighted pier that glowed in the distance.

“This is it,” she said when they arrived. She leaned against a pillar. Her feet sank into the sand as water lapped at her ankles. “What do you think?”

“It’s incredible. Just like you. Tara gave you your first kiss. I want to be the one who gives you your last one.”

Rachel pressed her lips against Griffin’s. Griffin pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Rachel tasted like strawberries and mint, the main components of the mojitos they’d shared after dinner. She wanted to take her to bed and part her with her tongue. To slide the tip with deliberate slowness across her clit. She wanted to feel her grow hard. To hear her come. She groaned when Rachel pulled away but held her by her waist to make sure she didn’t go far. Everyone in her family had cautioned her not to let Rachel get away. Perhaps she should heed their warning.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want some time alone with you,” Rachel whispered in the dark. “I want to be with you with no one else around.”

BOOK: Month of Sundays
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