The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time (13 page)

I moved behind the bar to fetch three menus. “Are they lunchtime regulars?” I whispered to Cassie.

She leaned over the bar to take a look at them. “I don’t think so. Why? Do they look familiar to you?”

“Maybe,” I replied, wasting no time as I approached their table.

Was I having premonition dreams? Was that why all this was happening?

“Nice day today,” I said as I handed a menu to each woman.

The bells jangled on the door and I looked up in a panic, expecting to see a dark-haired woman in a black skirt and red heels. But it wasn’t Addison. Instead there were two men, unfamiliar to me. I barely glanced at them as they moved to the back and sat down at one of the booths.

“This may seem like a strange question,” I said to the three women up front, “but were you ladies in here for lunch yesterday as well? You look familiar.”

“No, we’ve never eaten here before,” one of them replied. “My friend recommended it. She said you have a great European beer selection.”

“We most certainly do,” I replied. “Would you like to take a look at the drink menu?”

They smiled at each other mischievously. “We don’t usually drink beer on our lunch hour,” one of them said, “but it’s Gwen’s last day today.”

“She got an amazing promotion and she’s getting transferred to a different branch,” another explained. “We work at the bank around the corner and we’re going to miss her.”

I smiled at Gwen—a slightly overweight, middle-aged lady with glasses and short brown hair.

“Congratulations,” I said. “Well…I think you should let loose and enjoy yourselves. Here’s the specialty beer list. Have a look and I’ll be back in a few minutes to answer any questions.”

“Thank you,” Gwen replied with an appreciative smile.

I returned to the bar to fetch two more menus to deliver to the customers at the back, but as I picked them up, Cassie leaned close to speak in my ear.

“Just to give you a heads up,” she whispered, “the guy at the back has been checking you out ever since he came in.”

I felt a flutter of apprehension in my belly, afraid I was about to have another episode of
déjà vu
. Could he be Derek? I’d barely glanced at the men when they entered.

If it were Derek, I might start to wonder if my true destiny in life was to become a psychic.

With a mixture of nervousness and curiosity, and two menus in my hand, I turned toward the back booth.

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Hi there,” I said, setting the menus down on the table in front of the two male customers. Trying to be discreet, I glanced at their faces.

Nope.
Neither of these looked like the Derek from my dream.

“Is this your first time at The Keep?” I asked. It was the standard question we asked most customers we didn’t recognize, because if they said yes, I was supposed to launch into a friendly spiel about our unique specialty beer selection.

“Not for
me
,” the dark-haired one said—the one I’d studied most closely because I was certain the Derek of my dream also had dark hair.

The other man at the table had brown hair, and I felt his eyes on me. When I finally met his gaze, he smiled. “Sylvie?”

I stared at him, dumbstruck for a moment. “
Chris?
”

His face lit up the instant I spoke his name—as if he wasn’t sure I would remember him—then he slid out of the red-cushioned bench to rise to his feet and hug me.

As we stepped back, I said, “Holy Cow. It’s good to see you. You look great.”

He was no longer the thin, lanky boy I remembered from my youth. He had filled out and gained some sophisticated friendly laugh lines around his eyes.

I had only seen Chris once since those first two summers we spent together, as Chris’s family had moved to Seattle. He and Ethan hadn’t kept in touch.

Chris did come to Ethan’s funeral years later, however. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember much about seeing him that day. I had been a total mess.

“Ditto,” he replied, looking me up and down. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

We stared at each other in amazement for a few seconds. It was so incredible, how we’d met again after all that time.

Eventually, he slid back into the booth. “How long have you been working here?”

I shrugged, because everything was still so vague and a tad indistinguishable to me. “A few years… After what happened…” I gave him a look. “You know what I mean. I knew I had to get out of the house or I’d just wither away.”

“Of course,” he replied with understanding, for he knew the details of the drunk driving accident that had taken Ethan and Tyler from me.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you living back here now, or just visiting? I remember that your family moved out West when you were what…eighteen…nineteen?”

“That’s right,” Chris replied. “We’re all still living out there. I’m just visiting. Here on vacation for three weeks.”

His dark-haired friend at the table piped up. “He’s taking care of my house and dog while I take my wife and kids to Europe.”

“Nice,” I said.

Chris gestured toward his friend. “I’m sorry. This is my cousin, Jared. Jared, this is Sylvie. Sylvie and I go way back. She was married to Ethan Foster.”

Jared’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh…” A quiet gloom settled over all of us as Jared acknowledged with a nod what had happened to my husband and son eight years ago. Of course, he would know the story if he lived in Portland. It had been all over the local news at the time.

“Are you still living in the Foster mansion?” Jared asked, speaking in a casual tone, to lighten the mood.

“Yes. It’s really too big for one person, but I can’t seem to leave it.”

“That’s understandable,” Jared replied.

Chris and I stared at each other for a few lingering seconds until I had to mentally shake myself out of a sudden melancholy. I strove to think about all the good times we’d shared as a foursome in our teen years—Ethan, me, Chris and Jean, riding our bikes out to the lake, roasting marshmallows at Chris’s parents’ cottage in the woods, and eating french fries at the Lobster Shack. They had been incredible summers.

“What can I get you to drink?” I asked, turning my eyes to Jared before it became too obvious that I was totally distracted by memories.

They ordered a couple of beers. As I passed by the bar, I said to Cassie, “Two Guinesses,” then I went to take the orders from the ladies up front.

“So you know him?” Cassie asked after I returned from the kitchen a few minutes later to collect the drinks she had waiting for me on a tray. “He’s really cute,” she whispered.

“His name is Chris. He’s grown up a lot since we hung out together.”

“Who is he?”

I picked up the tray and spoke softly. “He was Ethan’s friend when they were kids. We hung out with him for two summers, then his family moved out West. He came to the funeral, though. That was the last time I saw him.”

She cocked her head to the side to check him out. “He certainly turned out well. Who’s his friend?”

“That’s his cousin, Jared.”

“He’s not bad either,” Cassie said.

“Settle down,” I said with a chuckle. “He’s married. Besides, there’s to be no drooling on the customers.” I grinned and headed back to their booth.

“Here we are.” I set the beer glasses on the table. “Did you decide what you’d like for lunch? Or do you have any questions?”

I met Chris’s gaze and we shared a smile.

“No questions,” he replied. “Jared?”

Jared was still poring over the menu with great intensity. “I’ll have the club sandwich with fries.”

“And I’ll have the pan-fried haddock,” Chris added.

“Rice or potato?” I asked.

“Rice.”

“Excellent choice.” I smiled.

After I took their menus and delivered their orders to the kitchen, I waited on a few other customers that came in. It was a busy lunch hour, even for a Friday.

Later, after I gave Chris and Jared their bills and processed their credit card payments, I told Chris again how great it was to see him. Then I said good-bye and returned to the kitchen to check on other lunch orders.

I had just delivered four salads to a table up front, when Chris walked back in, jingling the bells at the door. At first I thought he might have left something behind, but he lingered at the door, gesturing me toward him as our eyes met.

My heart pounded a little faster as I approached. “Hey.”

“Listen,” he said, “we should get together and catch up while I’m here. Do you want to grab some lunch this weekend?”

“I’d love that,” I replied. “I work tomorrow but I’m off at four.”

“How about dinner then?”

“Sounds great. Should we meet somewhere, or…?”

“I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he said.

After he left, I found myself standing at the door, staring in a daze at the jingling bells, for I felt transported—back in time to those easy, romantic summer days and nights when I was sixteen years old.

“Excuse me, miss?” one of the ladies at the front table said. “Could we get another beer for Gwen?”

“Sure,” I replied with a smile as I hurried back to work.

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Clearly we have a lot of catching up to do,” I said to Chris as he pulled out of my driveway. “After you left the pub, I realized I didn’t even know what you do for a living, or if you’re married with kids. I don’t know anything.”

He shifted the Honda CRV into third gear as we drove down the long tree-lined lane. “I’m a dentist,” he replied. “I have a practice in Seattle with three other doctors and we’re all good friends. We cover each other for vacations.”

“Do you come back here often to visit?” I asked.

“Not as much as I’d like to.” Chris glanced at me briefly before turning onto the main road. “I like Seattle and everything, but I think this will always feel more like home to me. I’m glad Jared’s still here with his family, and my uncle’s here, too. It gives me a reason to come back.”

“Married? Kids?” I asked.

He made a face. “That’s kind of complicated. The short answer is no, I’m not married. I’m divorced, but we have a son—Logan—so that’s what keeps me in Seattle.” Chris looked at me. “He’s an amazing kid. Honestly…Sylvie, he’s incredible. You wouldn’t believe it.”

I felt a rush of happiness at the love I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice, accompanied by a pang of regret for the loss of my own son.

“How old?”

“Nine,” Chris replied. “But we’ve had a rough go of it the past couple of years. It hasn’t been easy.”

My eyebrows pulled together with concern. “Why is that?”

Chris kept his eyes on the road. “Logan was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia when he was seven. He’s being treated, but it’s not easy. Feels like we’re at the hospital all the time.”

The happiness I’d felt seconds ago drained out of me. I knew what it meant to lose a child—nothing is ever the same after that—and I couldn’t imagine living with that fear every day.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I gently replied. “Is he going to be okay?”

Chris’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He’s putting up a good fight. He’s in remission right now so we’ve got our fingers crossed. He had a few appointments this week, otherwise I’d have him out here with me for the full three weeks, because he loves Jared’s kids and would have liked to see them before they fly off. They all get along really well. Katelyn is going to bring him out for the third week so we can do some sailing and whale watching. He loves to be out on the water.”

“Is Katelyn your wife?” I asked.

Chris gave me a look. “Ex-wife.”

I was feeling very curious about what had happened to cause the breakdown of their marriage and how their relationship was working out now, after the divorce, but it seemed too personal a question to ask in the first five minutes of our re-acquaintance, so I left all that alone.

“Where are we going for supper?” I asked.

“I thought I’d cook us dinner at Jared’s house,” Chris replied. “I drove him and his family to the airport this morning, so I’ve had all day to putter around, pick up groceries. Their place is on the water. Does that sound okay?”

“It sounds great, actually.” In that moment, I experienced a flash memory of Chris’s cottage in the woods where we’d spent so much time together that first summer. “Do your parents still own their summer place?” I asked.

Chris flicked the blinker and turned onto a side road. “No, they sold it a long time ago, the year after we moved. I wish they’d held onto it. It was dumpy and rustic, but man, I loved it.”

“Me, too. We had so much fun there. I remember the tire swing and the sound of the river. I swear, roasted marshmallows never tasted so good. Not in all my life.”

Chris nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean. They shouldn’t have let it go, but I guess it was pretty far to travel for a cottage—clear across the country. They wouldn’t have been able to use it much. At least that’s what they said.”

“You could always buy it back,” I suggested.