The Way Home (23 page)

“How about the competition? Do they get to taste test?”

Avery had already considered inviting him back to the kitchen. “Why not? I'm always interested in your opinion,” she said in a half-teasing tone.

He laughed at her. “I'm not sure that's true, but you know I'll always give you my opinion anyway.”

A few moments later they were standing side by side at the worktable. Mike surveyed the dishes Avery had prepared then started on the fried oysters. His eyes widened with surprise and delight as he savored the cool sauce and the warm, crunchy bite of oyster that had been dredged in a special mixture of panko and cornmeal crumbs Claire had recommended to her.

“So what do you think?” she asked eagerly.

“Is this what they teach in those fancy cooking schools?” He stared at her, trying to keep a straight face. There was a drop of sauce on the corner of his finger and he licked it off, smiling again at the taste. “I don't know . . . I think I need to have a few more of those to tell you what you're doing wrong.”

It took her a full five seconds to realize he was teasing.

“That bad, huh? Well, maybe I should just chuck this whole platter and start over.” She lifted the platter of seafood and held it over the garbage pail.

Mike leaped out of his seat to rescue the food. “Are you crazy?” He grabbed back the platter with both hands and carefully set it back on the table. “I was only joking. For goodness' sake, if the rest of the food tastes that
bad
,
you're really going to put me out of business.”

“I doubt that, but my mom always says it's important to have goals,” she teased him back. “Try the other dishes. See what you think.”

Mike eagerly helped himself to samples from the other platters, giving a thumbs-up all the way and offering a few insightful suggestions for fine-tuning spices or sauces.

When he was done, he patted his mouth with a napkin. “Since you're not serving lunch today, maybe you're free this afternoon? I was thinking of taking my boat out. I have it moored at the dock near the ferry, but I've hardly been on it all summer. It's the perfect afternoon for a sail.”

The invitation took Avery by surprise. She needed a moment to think about it. Had he just asked her to go sailing . . . like on a real . . . date?

She was so surprised, she didn't know what to say. She walked over to the sink, suddenly needing to wash her hands and get her bearings.

She had been secretly hoping their relationship would take some sort of step forward, even though neither of them really had time to date. Well, Mike seemed to think that they did. Like today. This afternoon. Right now.

She turned to him, drying her hands on a towel. “Gee, a sail sounds great. But I'm not really dressed for it.”

I didn't just hear an excuse, did I?
a little voice screamed at her.
What are you making excuses for?

Because . . . I'm scared?
she said to herself.

Mike looked surprised by her reply about her clothes. His gaze swept over her, from head to toe. “You look great to me. If you feel cold on the water, I'll give you a sweatshirt.”

You look great to me?
She liked the way he'd said that.

But was she really ready to take this step?

Ready, schmedy,
a little voice said.
If you don't say “yes” you're going to regret it.
Avery knew that was true.

She bit her bottom lip and impulsively pulled off her apron. “Well then, I'll just put this food away and meet you down at the dock.”

Mike looked pleased by her answer, but before he could reply, his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the number. He looked concerned and then amused as he spoke to the caller.

“All right, Mom. I get it. No, you don't have to come all the way over here. I'll come get them and drop Noah at his practice . . . It's not a problem. I'm not even at the Tuna yet. Okay, see you in a minute.”

He hung up and shook his head. “My mom,” he explained, looking a little embarrassed. “She needs me to pick up the kids. She has to go to the library for her book club meeting or something, and Noah has a swim team practice. And they're acting up on her today . . . but they're really good, normally,” he quickly added.

“I'm sure they are,” she said. She sighed, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved by the sudden change of plans. Maybe a bit of both.

“Sorry the date didn't work out. How about a rain check?”

“Sure, absolutely,” she said lightly. “Though we're both so busy, I hope we don't have to wait until after Labor Day.”

“I hope not, too. I go back to work in September. I only keep the Tuna open on weekends after that.”

She had forgotten that. “Oh, right. The summer sometimes seems like it will never end.”

“That is true, but it always does, Avery. Sooner or later.” He smiled briefly and pocketed his phone. “See you around. Good luck with the lunch shift. You've got a killer menu going there.”

Avery smiled and watched him go. She felt as if something very subtle had shifted between them. But she wasn't sure what.

They almost had a date. He would ask her again. Or she could ask him. Avery wasn't quite sure if she had the courage to make that move. Not quite yet. But she told herself to be patient. Just the fact that he'd asked her was a good sign, wasn't it?

As Mike walked out, Gena came in. They waved and greeted each other. Avery hoped Gena hadn't caught the wistful way she had been watching Mike's exit. But as usual, little escaped the notice of her astute head waitress and friend.

“I haven't seen Mike around here lately. Were you two having lunch together or something?”

It did look like that, Avery realized. Mike's place setting was still on the worktable and all the platters of food were out.

“Not exactly. He was taste testing the new lunch menu. I wanted to give him fair warning. He's been so helpful to—to the café,” she said quickly, though she almost said
helpful to me
.

Gena was changing her shoes and putting up her hair. “Uh-huh,” she replied, in an
I am so not buying any of that
tone. “So, what's going on with the Tuna King? You guys dating yet?”

“Don't be silly. Mike's a great guy. And I really like him.” More than she ever thought possible when they first met. “But I have to focus on this business right now, Gena. You know that. Do I seem like someone who has time for a relationship?”

Gena smiled but still looked skeptical. She took out a fresh apron and tied the strings around her waist. “You're the boss. Whatever you say. But you might want to make time for a guy like Mike. These things don't always come along at our convenience.”

Avery glanced at her friend and sighed. Before she could reply, the kitchen door swung open again. Jack and Brittany walked in, holding hands, which was not the easiest way to make it through the kitchen doorway.

They were officially going out. They had both changed their relationship status on Facebook, Brittany explained, a ritual Avery knew little about. It had not taken them very long to figure it out, either. Why was
she
so slow at these things?

Jack was drawn to the platters of food on the worktable. “Hey, that smells good. What is all that stuff?”

“The new lunch menu. Help yourself,” she invited them. “I want to know what you all think. I'll tell you the ingredients so you can answer questions.”

“Wow, this stuff looks awesome.” Brittany lifted the lid on a platter of crab cakes and pulled up a seat between Jack and Gena. Teresa had arrived and quickly joined the others. She didn't want to miss the party.

At least her new dishes were a hit, and the café would soon be doing more business. A bright spot to focus on, Avery reminded herself, on this otherwise confusing day.

Chapter Thirteen

“L
ET'S
be thankful it's only a rehearsal dinner and not an actual wedding. There's still a long guest list, the bride still wants a ton of flowers on the tables and in the guest rooms, and all kinds of special foods . . .” Liza had opened a thick binder on the kitchen table, the kind she used to keep track of big parties. She pulled out one of the sheets and looked over a list. “Oh, and a certain brand of organic soap and bath gel in all the rooms. I'll put out our usual lavender goat's milk soap, too,” she murmured. “I bet everyone likes ours better.”

Claire was making iced tea, large glasses with slices of lemon and orange. One for herself, one for Liza, and one for Jamie. He was still cleaning off the porch. If he didn't come in soon, she would bring it out to him, she decided.

“Isn't this the couple getting married in the village this weekend? I saw something about it in the bulletin.” Claire rolled an orange on the cutting board, to make the juices flow before she sliced it. “I think Reverend Ben is performing the ceremony.”

“Yes, they mentioned Reverend Ben. The groom, Jim Hatcher, grew up in Cape Light. Mari O'Hara, the bride, grew up in New York,” Liza clarified. “The O'Haras and most of the bridesmaids will be staying here the whole weekend. So we'll be helping when they get dressed for the wedding . . . which reminds me, I need to buy a few new blow-dryers and another ironing board.”

The inn often hosted weddings. Everyone looked so glamorous when the curtain finally went up, but Claire knew that behind the scenes, the nuts and bolts weren't nearly as pretty. But she did love to take part in a wedding, even if the ceremony wasn't taking place at the inn this time.

Wednesday was often a slow day, even in high season. And they were having a little break in occupancy this week, since the entire inn had been booked by a bride and her family. Claire was relieved that Liza had given them two full days to get the place ready. She not only had to help ready the rooms but also do all the cooking.

“I think I'll send Jamie out for a few things this afternoon. Where is he?” Liza asked, looking up again at Claire.

“Still weeding. He should be in any minute.”

Liza rose and went to the back door. “Thank goodness we have Jamie around. I'm not sure how we ever did these big parties without him.”

Claire was pleased to hear Liza say that. She thought Jamie had been a great help these past few weeks. More than just a helper, part of a team. While she knew that she and Liza could handle just about any challenge thrown their way, it was just easier to have another able worker around, someone they could depend on. And over the past few weeks, Jamie was proving himself to be just that. If the only thing she had done for him this summer was teach him a good work ethic, Claire thought she could be thankful. That was something he would take with him, long after this job had run its course.

* * *

T
HE
next two days passed in a blur of preparation, and some anxiety, Claire had to admit. Though they had prepared for large parties and family reunions like this one many times, it was always stressful and there were always unexpected challenges and emergencies.

Fortunately, the shipment of expensive soap and bath gel the bride requested did show up on time. As did the special brand of protein powder for the fruit smoothies the bridal party needed at breakfast.

But on Friday morning, Claire was in the hallway, polishing the wooden side table when she heard her usually cool and collected employer go into a panic. Liza was on the phone with a florist in Boston, and it didn't sound like good news.

“What do you mean, you can't make the delivery until tomorrow? I was told that the flowers would be here already, by ten
A.M
.” She paused and listened a moment. “Why didn't anyone call and tell me that? I would have made other arrangements,” she added emphatically.

A few minutes later, Liza walked into the hallway, looking pale and frustrated. She carried a sheaf of papers in her hand. The flower order from the florist probably, Claire thought.

“Where's Jamie? I need him to go into Boston right away. Someone has to pick up the flowers. If he leaves now and doesn't hit much traffic,” she added, glancing at her watch, “he could make it back by two thirty or three. The O'Haras will be checking in about the same time. I wanted the flowers in place by then. But what can you do? As long as we have them for the dinner tonight.”

It was half past ten. It was possible, counting two hours each way, if there were no traffic tie-ups and no extra stops.

“He'll have to bring cash,” Liza added, checking the bill. “It's a few hundred dollars.” She looked up at Claire. “We can trust him to do this, don't you think, Claire?”

Claire felt caught for a moment, wondering if they could trust Jamie. Yes, he had been reliable and hard-working for almost a month now. He had spent a good part of each Tuesday, his day off, sitting in the library, studying for the GED and being tutored by Vera Plante. He had been saving his money and looking at school catalogs.

Could they trust him to drive into Boston with a large sum of cash? A few weeks ago, she would have said, “It has all the ingredients for a complete disaster.” Had he mended his ways since then? Claire felt guilty doubting him. But she had to be honest with herself. And with Liza. The temptation to visit his friends and goof off a bit might prove too much.

Oh, Lord, I hope not
. Claire said a silent prayer.
He's been doing so well. Please don't let him fall back. And please help me to trust him. If I can't trust him completely, who will?

“I think he'll do fine,” she said finally. “As long as you're clear. As long as you tell him he has to come right back. No side trips.”

Before Liza could answer, Jamie came in through the back door. Claire followed Liza into the kitchen to meet him. He had been working in the garden, and his face was streaked with sweat and dirt, as were his clothes. But he looked happy, Claire thought. Practically victorious, stretching out his T-shirt, which he had used as a basket and filled with ripe vegetables from the garden.

“Look at all these tomatoes. They're awesome. And I found some lettuce and string beans. I think that new patch of fence is keeping the rabbits out, finally. But I have to check it every morning.”

“My, what a harvest. Here, put them on the counter by the sink. I'll take care of it.”

Claire stepped aside so Jamie could dump out the contents of his shirt. Liza laughed. “I think we need to buy you a real basket, Jamie.”

“There's a wooden bushel in the barn. But I didn't expect to find so much stuff ripe today. It's amazing how it just grows overnight.”

“A garden is amazing,” Claire agreed. She hadn't been in the vegetable patch much this year. Jamie had taken over practically all of her work out there. But she already knew the pleasure that came from working in the earth and helping things grow. It was wonderful to share this with Jamie.

He had worked hard out there these past weeks. It was good to see him take pride in the fruits—well, actually the vegetables, Claire silently amended—of his labor.

He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down at the sink. “I guess I'll clean up and change my clothes.”

“Before you go up, I need to ask you something,” Liza began.

She quickly explained the problem with the flower delivery and showed him the florist's order. “The shop is not far from Quincy Market. You can jump right off the highway and back on.”

Claire saw Jamie's expression brighten as Liza described the quest. She hoped that was a good sign, his pleasure at being trusted with this important mission.

“And you need to come right back. No side trips,” Liza added. “The bride will check in around two. She was expecting the flowers to be delivered. We can't have them any later than that.”

“I'll be back before she notices anything's missing,” Jamie promised.

He met Claire's gaze, and she smiled. “I'll pack you some lunch. This way you won't have to stop.”

She sent up a quick prayer.
Please let him carry out this errand promptly and properly.
It seemed such a small thing to ask, but so much was hanging in the balance.

* * *

F
OR
the next few hours, Claire had little time to worry about Jamie as she helped put the finishing touches on the guest rooms and began preparing for the many meals she needed to cook over the weekend.

The bride and her family arrived promptly at two o'clock. Liza seemed tense as she showed Mari around the inn, carrying the list of all her requests and showing how she had followed them down to the letter.

“There's been a small delay with the flower arrangements, but I've sent a special messenger to pick them up. He should be back any minute,” Liza added, glancing at her watch.

Mari looked a bit distressed. “I did want the orchid plants in the guest rooms when everyone arrived. But as long as he returns before the dinner, I suppose that will be all right.”

“He'll be back long before then,” Liza assured her.

Claire forced a smile. “I have some refreshments ready—iced tea, lemonade, fresh chocolate chip cookies,” she announced, hoping to distract from Liza's single slipup. “It will all be out on the porch when you're ready.”

The bridesmaids arrived in two full cars at three. There was a great deal of chatter and giggling as the young women gathered in the bride's suite and helped her figure out which dress to wear for the rehearsal. Claire thought it sounded like a group of middle-school girls having a pajama party. At least the bride was no longer standing anxiously on the porch, watching for Jamie's return.

Liza was, though. She called Jamie on his cell phone, but he didn't answer.

Claire returned to the kitchen and started working on dinner again. She felt so anxious, she overworked the pie crust and had to start a new batch of dough.

Mari came down, dressed for the rehearsal in a bold, tropical-print dress and high-heeled sandals, her long glossy hair pulled back and dangling down her back in a long ponytail. She looked like a model walking down a runway, Claire thought.

“Are the flowers here yet?” she asked. “I ordered some for tonight, for the bridesmaids to put in their hair.”

“I don't think so,” Claire said, glancing at the clock. “But you should ask Liza. She's out back.”

Liza had gone out back to check the setup for the cocktail hour. Perhaps Jamie had called her cell phone by now to say he was on the way. Claire certainly hoped so.

Mari left and Claire glanced at the clock. Three twenty-five. It was possible that he had hit traffic. It was a Friday afternoon and the height of the summer. Her heart felt full of dread. Jamie had not answered his phone. That was a bad sign.

Claire went outside to get a handful of mint. She heard Liza and Mari talking, their voices tense and brittle. It was about the flowers. She felt so helpless. Had Jamie really gone off the rails now that they had finally put their trust in him again?

Then the crunch of gravel in the drive announced the arrival of a car. Claire could barely make herself turn to see who was coming. More relatives or bridesmaids? The groom and his family?

No, they were meeting up with the bride's family at the church.

She squinted into the sun, relieved to see her old green Jeep pull up to the back of the house.

It was Jamie, back with the flowers. Just as he had promised.

She could see the trunk loaded with blooms and more on the seat beside him. He jumped out and called to Liza. She had come around the back of the house and was practically running toward him.

“Sorry I'm late. There was a ton of traffic and the battery on my phone died. I was going to call you but I didn't want to stop. I got all the flowers,” he said. He pulled open the back of the Jeep and began to take out boxes filled with flowers. “The florist didn't have the white roses,” he added.

“He didn't?” Liza let out a long sigh. “No wonder he said he couldn't bring the order until tomorrow. I hope he took that off the bill.”

“Don't worry. I made sure he didn't charge you. I had to park the Jeep a few blocks away, at a lot, and I was just walking back and I saw some white roses in another flower shop. So I got those for you at a different place. I guess that took a little extra time. I hope that was okay.”

“Okay? That was brilliant!” Liza gave Jamie a quick hug. “Thank you, Jamie. You did a great job. The bride will be very happy. So we'll all be happy,” she said quietly.

Claire saw Jamie laugh, looking tired but pleased. He carefully pulled out a box that held a huge, intricate arrangement. Claire walked closer and took another box of small purple orchids in individual pots.

As she carried the flowers inside, she said a silent prayer.
Thank you, Lord, for watching over Jamie and helping him do such a good job today. Please forgive me for ever doubting him.

* * *

A
T
four o'clock all the guests scurried out of the inn, heading to Cape Light and the church on the green for the wedding rehearsal. Liza came into the kitchen where Claire was still cooking and Jamie was eating a sandwich.

“They've left for town. We have about two hours,” Liza said, glancing at her watch.

“Is there anything I should do?” Jamie asked

“Not right now. You must be tired from all the driving,” Liza said.

Jamie shrugged. “I'm all right. It was sort of fun, having a deadline. Though I don't think I want to drive a delivery truck, or anything like that.”

Liza laughed and headed off to check the place cards. “Don't worry, I think you're meant for better things.”

“You did a good job finding those white roses. The bride wanted those flowers most particularly,” Claire said, glancing at him. “I will say we got a little worried when we didn't hear from you and it was past three.”