I pause, thrown. “I… thank you,” I reply, but before I can say another word, he turns and walks back to his table, leaving me standing there, my head spinning.
I see Kayla passing, and quickly flag her down. “I’m going to need that order to go.”
7.
“It was a mistake, what happened between us…”
I obsess over Ash’s distance all night. I can’t believe he’s acting like the time we shared never meant anything, as if he wasn’t right there with me, gazing into my eyes as we pushed each other over the brink of pleasure.
Fine, I decide angrily. If he wants to pretend like I don’t exist, I’ll just do the same. Luckily, I have way too much work to do to dwell on him for long. The first guests are arriving in just a few days, and I have to make sure everything is ready for them. The next morning, I drive out to the superstore a few towns over and stock up with supplies, then I set up shop in the big, sun-drenched kitchen. I put the radio on, tie Nana’s favorite rose-print apron around my neck, and pull down her huge, dog-eared recipe file.
It’s time to see if I really can live up to the promise I’ve made everyone about her perfect home-baked goods—starting with her famous apple cake.
Setting out the sugar, eggs, and familiar ingredients, it all comes rushing back. The hours I spent here as a kid, watching her sift flour into a huge cracked porcelain mixing bowl; sneaking fingerfuls of the sweet batter. Now, as I carefully read her lopsided handwriting off the yellowed recipe cards, I can hear her voice, updating me on every step.
“Now here’s the trick, you want to stir in some of the apple chunks, right into the batter, and let the rest caramelize on top.
It’s finally sinking in, that she’s gone—and I’m here in her place. But instead of feeling sad, it’s a comfort: using the same old hand mixer to combine the sweet batter, mixing in crushed walnuts and fruit, then scraping them all into a ring pan to top with more fruit and golden sugar grains. She always let me lick out the bowl, and now I savor the taste of the batter, standing alone in the middle of the warm summer kitchen with scent of baking cake wafting in the air.
“Hello?”
A voice comes from the front of the house.
“In here!” I call back. I check the timer, and rinse off my hands. Juliet comes through the doorway, wearing cutoffs and a cute peasant top.
“Hey you,” she smiles, “I heard you were back in town.”
“Hi!” I exclaim, happy to see a friendly face. “Can I get you some lemonade?”
“Thanks, I’d love some.” She pauses, sniffing the air. “That smells amazing! What is it?”
“Apple cake,” I reply. “Should be done soon, if you want to stay for a slice?”“Are you kidding?” Juliet laughs. “You don’t need to ask twice.”
I take the pitcher from the fridge and pour us a couple of glasses. Then we head outside to the back garden and settle at a table there under the roses.
Juliet takes a long sip and lets out a contented sigh. “I’m hiding,” she confides. “There’s a game on, and the guys have all colonized the house. I knew getting a big-screen TV would come back to bite us in the ass.”
I laugh, kicking off my flip-flops. “Well, you’re welcome to hang here. I’m trying to perfect Nana’s recipes before the first guests arrive.”
Juliet gasps. “You mean you’re taking this place over? Congratulations!”
“It’s a bit early for that,” I warn. “I’ve never done anything like this before. In fact, part of me wonders if I’ve completely lost my mind.”
Juliet shakes her head. “No way. I could tell, we hadn’t seen the last of you. You had this look in your eyes, when you were here the other week.”
“Like a ‘I’m going to quit my corporate job and risk everything by moving to the middle of nowhere’ look?” I quip.
Juliet laughs. “It’s not so crazy. I’ve been there,” she adds. “I thought I had my life all planned out, and then I came back here, and everything changed.”
“Because of Emerson?” I ask, remembering her husband.
“Partly. But also, I realized that the things I thought I needed out of life weren’t what I wanted, after all.” Juliet rolls her eyes, self-deprecating. “It sounds cheesy, I know.”
“No, it doesn’t!” I protest. I’m relieved that somebody else seems to understand the crazy change I’m embarking on. “That’s what’s happening with me. I spent all this time trying to be the best lawyer in New York, but then I came here, and it just didn’t make sense anymore.”
“Well, good luck to you,” Juliet smiles warmly. “It’s a big change, but I couldn’t imagine life any other way. Only you know what’s going to make you happy,” she adds. “Nobody else can make that choice.”
I raise my lemonade glass, and toast her. We laugh.
“Look at us, turning our backs on the rat race,” I smile.
“I don’t know about that.” Juliet gives me a look. “When we’re slammed at Jaybird, I feel plenty rat-like.”
“That’s right,” I realize, “you guys have a restaurant. So how does that work, do you split your time between the city and Beachwood Bay?”
She nods. “We managed to find an amazing manager, so hopefully we can take a step back this summer. My sister had a kid, so it would be great to spend more time here, as a family.”