The Way Home (28 page)

She considered herself a person of strong faith, who drew her strength from the lessons of the scripture. But at a moment like this she realized that you just didn't learn it one time, and that was the end. One had to learn these lessons again and again. To be battered and worn down by these spiritual trials, the way the wind and sea carved the angel wing cliffs. The way the waves and sand smoothed bits of sea glass.

Dear God, I don't understand why this has happened, but I must trust you,
she prayed
. Please let your grace work in my heart and help me learn how to accept even what I can't understand. I'm trying very hard. And please protect Jamie as he tries to find his way.

* * *

A
VERY
kept a lookout for Mike, who usually passed the café at the same time each day on his way to the Tuna. She wanted to catch up with him and find some way to clear up any misconceptions he had about her relationship with Paul. But that plan was not easily accomplished. The few times she had spotted him, she was either in the middle of a rush of customers, or he marched past her café at an aerobics-level pace; all he needed was a water bottle and hand weights to blend in with the fitness buffs on the beach. He looked so unapproachable, she practically felt a chill as he swept by. Talk about giving a cold shoulder. Now she knew the true meaning of that expression. She had called him twice on the phone, but each time he politely—but coolly—told her he couldn't talk. He never called back.

One sunny afternoon in late August, Mike's mother, Victoria Rossi, made good on her promise to visit the café. She arrived at lunchtime with Emily, whom Avery was especially delighted to see.

Victoria was on foot, of course, with Emily scooting alongside.

Avery met them at the entrance with a cheerful welcome. “Would you like to sit inside or out?”

“Outside's better. We can park the scooter next to the table . . . if you don't mind,” Victoria replied.

“No problem at all.” Avery brought them over to the table with the best view.

Emily hopped off her ride and stowed it to one side. “This is perfect, thank you,” she replied in a very mature fashion.

Victoria helped Emily open her napkin and spread it on her lap. “Isn't this a lovely place? I love the decor and those photographs of the island. The Tuna has its charms, but it's high time a café with a little more style moved into the neighborhood.”

Victoria glanced at her menu with interest. “I bet you gave up on me ever showing up. Sorry it's taken so long to come here.”

“I'm just glad you finally did. I'm sure you're very busy with Emily and Noah. When does school start? It must be soon.”

Emily made an awful face. “Ugh! Did you have to remind me?”

Avery laughed. “Sorry. You have a little time left, don't you?”

“Ten measly days. We go back the day after Labor Day.” Emily's expression was sullen, her chin on her chest. She still wore her pink helmet, and it dipped down over her eyes.

“I've started a countdown,” Victoria confessed. She leaned over and helped Emily take the helmet off. “We just did some school shopping. New sneakers and jeans and plenty of pink T-shirts. Now we're out for one last fling.”

“Oh, I see. This is a special lunch.” Avery finally caught Emily's eye and got her to smile again. “I'll see what I can cook up for you. Maybe a special back-to-school dessert is in order.”

The prospect instantly perked up Emily's spirits. She suddenly sat up again, looking quite cheerful.

Avery wasn't able to leave the kitchen again until it was time to serve her special customers their dessert. She hadn't been sure what she would pull together, but she took a wild guess that Emily liked chocolate and obviously loved the color pink. She set up the basic Chocolate Barge—a perennial favorite—and added some strawberry ice cream, sliced berries, and a pink berry-based sauce. Then she surrounded the dessert with pink rose petals, picked off one of the table decorations. Finally, she topped the extravaganza with mounds of whipped cream and sparklers. A little pink Post-it on a toothpick read, “Have a Great Year at School!”

Did it qualify for the cover of
Bon Appétit
? More like the cover of a Dr. Seuss book, Avery thought. The mile-high confection looked like something the Cat in the Hat would cook up for a snack.

She carried the masterpiece to the table personally and was totally rewarded for her efforts by Emily's surprise and delight. The little girl knelt on her chair, clapping her hands as Avery set the dessert down between her and her grandmother.

“Nana, look at the rose petals. It's so pretty!”

“It is that . . . and more.” Victoria looked up at Avery with new regard, a fondness in her expression. “Thank you, Avery. You didn't have to make such a fuss, but it's very nice of you.”

Avery shrugged. “No big deal. I like to go a little wild from time to time. Cooking outside the lines,” she joked.

“You went totally native with that one,” a familiar voice agreed.

Avery turned to see Mike standing nearby. How long had he been watching them? She wasn't sure. He was trying hard not to smile, but his cheek muscles were losing the battle.

He finally gave in when Emily called out to him, “Want a bite, Daddy? It's awesome.”

Victoria turned to her son. “Come around, don't be shy. There's plenty for the whole family.”

Mike reluctantly slipped under the thin rope barrier that marked the café's outdoor seating and came up to the table. “Did you tell Avery it was your birthday or something?” he asked his daughter. “You know it isn't until October.”

“It's a back-to-school treat. To cheer her up,” Avery explained.

“You should make this at the Tuna, Daddy. It's divine.”

“Divine, huh? Where did you learn that word?” He reluctantly took a spoonful, tasting with professional flair. Avery could tell he liked it and hoped the confection would sweeten his gruff mood a bit. “Good job. Nice reduction with the sauce . . . This should hold her until middle school. Are those real rose petals on the plate?”

Avery nodded. “Totally edible.”

“I know. I was just asking. They look . . . pretty.” He glanced at her, finally meeting her eyes.

His expression changed for just a moment, as if he had been hungry for the sight of her and was now taking in his fill. Then just as quickly, a bland, detached look returned.

“Hard to believe the summer is over,” she said, trying to make some harmless conversation so he wouldn't race walk away from them.

“I'm glad it's over. It felt long this year, longer than usual.”

For Avery, the summer had flown by, and each and every day had been about the Peregrine. She had not really made time for anything—or anyone—else. How she wished now she could turn the calendar back to July. She would definitely make time for Mike.

Instead she said, “Emily says she isn't looking forward to school starting. Are you?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It's a juggling act the first few weeks. The Tuna is open on weekends until Columbus Day.”

“Yes, I remember. You told me that once,” she replied. She knew she had to find some moment to clear the air about Paul. He might keep avoiding her until Labor Day, but at least she had a little time after that when the beachfront would slow down and they could talk. She hoped so anyway.

“What are you going to do after the summer? Does the Peregrine turn into a snowbird?”

Avery knew what he meant. Quite a few cooks in the Northeast went down to warmer climates in the winter—Florida and the Caribbean—or they took jobs on cruise lines that roamed sun-filled tourist spots.

“That's not my style. I'm not really sure what I'll do.”

She had been wondering what to do once the cold weather set in. The café had to be closed, mid-October at the latest. The area would be deserted by then. But a winter job in Boston felt like a step backward. She had considered spending the winter in Connecticut, near her family. Or in New York City or even in the south of France, where she had studied cooking.

She might need to go that far away just to forget about Mike, she realized now. He seemed so distant and detached today, she didn't feel safe musing over her plans aloud.

Was he acting this way because he thought she still cared for Paul? Or did he have a girlfriend now—Cindy or someone else she didn't even know about? That could have been the reason for this chill as well, she realized. But with Victoria and Emily there, she couldn't get into that conversation.

“Well, good seeing you,” Avery said to Mike. She turned to Victoria and Emily, who were finishing the last of their dessert. “I'm glad you enjoyed your lunch. This was on the house. No, my treat—” she insisted, when Victoria seemed about to argue with her. “I have to get back to the kitchen. But come see me again soon. And good luck with school, Emily. I know you'll do great.”

Victoria thanked her profusely, and Emily jumped up in her seat and gave Avery a big hug.

Avery said good-bye to Mike, mostly with her eyes. She brushed past him feeling suddenly sad and empty. Back in the kitchen, she covered her face with her hands and nearly cried.

It didn't seem fair. How could she feel so bad about him? As if something had ended between them when it had never really begun?

* * *

T
HE
island was filled with visitors the last week of August, everyone trying to squeeze out the last sweet, precious drops of summer.

The Peregrine felt more hectic than ever, with Avery's staff quickly dwindling. Jack and Brittany were both heading back to college just when she needed them for the last big push.

Luckily, Gena had a friend who was an experienced waitress and willing to work through Labor Day. Teresa, bless her heart, hung on to the bitter end, too, though she had to start her regular job for the school district lunch service the very next day after Labor Day.

With Avery doing double duty as both chef and waitress, they managed to make it through the last big weekend and limp to the finish line, exhausted but victorious.

“Well, we made it,” Teresa said to Gena and Avery as they locked the doors on Labor Day night. “I know the café will be open a few more weeks, but this feels like the grand finale to me. I have to tell you, ladies, it was a little touch-and-go there.”

Avery laughed. “You're telling me. I nearly gave up on this place ten times,” she admitted. “But here we are. I couldn't have made it without all of you,” she added sincerely.

And Mike,
she added silently.
Him most of all
.

The three women shared a hug and a good meal, treating themselves to the best table in the house. They toasted to the Peregrine, to the summer they had shared and the one to come. Avery knew that even though things had not worked out well with Mike, Angel Island had blessed her with some wonderful new friends—Gena and Teresa, Liza and Claire.

She had made a new life for herself and felt like a different person than the woman who had arrived back in May. A wiser, kinder, more tolerant person, she hoped. And that was a certain type of success you couldn't measure with good reviews or big dinner crowds, but one that was even more valuable and satisfying.

* * *

T
HE
week after Labor Day, Avery was the only guest left at the inn. She hadn't made any progress finding her own place the last few weeks, mainly because rentals had been scarce and she didn't have the time to look for one. As fall approached, there were lots of cottages for rent on the island and in the town of Cape Light. But now she wasn't sure about staying for the winter.

She finally decided it would be best if she left the island in October. Otherwise she would spend the next eight months hoping to run into Mike or waiting for him to call her. She hadn't seen him since the day Victoria and Emily stopped by for lunch and, sadly, she did not expect to.

But she still had no idea where she would go or what she would do. She hoped some force in the universe would decide for her.

Everything seemed different in September. Even though summer did not officially end until September twenty-first, the beachfront and boardwalk boldly contradicted the calendar. The ferry service from Newburyport followed the same schedule, but the big boats arrived at the dock eerily empty. A handful of beachgoers and cyclists wandered about during the week, and there were a few more visitors on the weekends. But the days were growing cooler and the sun set a little earlier each night.

When Mrs. McNulty deflated her toy menagerie and told Avery she would send her a postcard from Florida, Avery knew the season was drawing to a close. Even though the Lazy Tuna was still open weekends, she knew Mike was back at school now, back to his other life. She wondered if he even ran the Tuna during this part of the year. Maybe he had a manager watching over things. She wondered if he ever thought about her anymore. The way she still thought about him. Funny how three random kisses—one on her forehead, for goodness' sake—and a lot of wise-guy jokes could make such a lasting impression.

The life he led during the school year—his family, all his students, friends, and connections there—probably filled in his thoughts completely. And his heart. Maybe his summer season was put away and forgotten, like the flamboyant shirts he wore on Tiki Night at the Tuna.

The weeknights were so quiet that Avery was down to a skeleton crew, just herself and one waitress. The night before the first day of fall—Equinox Eve, Avery had privately dubbed it—even Gena called in sick with a cold.

Only one couple came in to dine. Avery cooked and served them then decided to close early. The first of the fierce storms that hit the island each fall was predicted to move into the area late that night. She knew by now not to take the news lightly.