Abby had spent the day experimenting with new recipes: the brioche French toast had been delicious, the vegetarian quiche not so much. Salt, she decided, as she sat down across from her grandmother and sisters at what had become their signature table at The Lantern, reserved just for them each time they came, which was about once a month, sometimes more. The quiche definitely needed more salt, but something else, too…
A good, sharp cheddar. Or feta. She’d try both, she decided. Still, given her budget and her current financial situation, she’d be living off the rather bland quiche for the next few days. Worse things had happened!
“Mimi, I have some good news,” Margo said with a smile that almost seemed a little nervous. She held her hands together, her right hand covering the beautiful engagement ring that now resided on her left ring finger.
“You found Pudgie?” The joy in Mimi’s face was heartbreaking, and the sisters exchanged worried glances.
“No…” Margo bit her lip, frowning. “I’m sorry, Mimi, not yet. But…I’m getting married.”
Mimi frowned. “I thought you were married.”
Oh dear. It was happening more and more, instances where Mimi was confused. She was always mixing Abby and Margo up, based solely on their similar hair color, and then there was the string of events that led to her having to move into Serenity Hills in the first place, the final straw being the time she left the stove burner on, which was discovered by Bridget when she stopped by to check in.
“I was married,” Margo said slowly. She widened her eyes to Abby, then Bridget, for help, but what could they say? “But Ash and I…aren’t married anymore.”
Mimi folded her arms in her lap. “So two of my granddaughters are divorced then,” she said loudly, causing the patrons of the nearby tables to turn to look at them.
Bridget fluttered her lashes and lifted her wine glass to take a long sip.
“Well, I’m getting remarried. To Eddie Boyd.”
Surely Mimi knew Eddie. Not only was he the town sheriff, but he was also Margo’s high school sweetheart.
“Well, it’s about time! You two were so sweet together back in high school,” Mimi explained, cracking her first real smile all week. “When is it?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow,” Margo said.
“Two weeks!” Mimi shrieked, again drawing the attention of other customers.
“It’s a small gathering. At home,” Margo explained. Her smile looked a bit forced, as if she had somehow expected this all to go a little differently.
“At the inn,” Bridget added, lest there be any confusion.
“And I get to cater the event!” Abby said, which seemed to make everyone’s smile slip, just a bit. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, all her old insecurities flooding back. With a shaking hand, she took a sip of wine, trying to restore her courage. She would show them. She thought she had once, but this time…she’d be sure.
“So it’s a celebration of sorts,” Bridget said, giving Margo a kind smile, and despite all the frustration Abby had built up for her sister, in moments like these, when Bridget stepped up and did whatever she could to please everyone else, she couldn’t help but love her.
And maybe, miss her mother more than ever.
I’m going to make you proud, Mom, Abby silently pledged. This time she meant it, this time she would.
And it started with making Bridget proud. Because without her oldest sister’s support, Abby couldn’t help but feel like all her dreams were hopeless.
***
Jack pushed through the door of The Lantern, immediately taken in by the nautical theme and the cheerful din. The bar was to his right, and he walked over to it. In New York, he was used to eating alone, but here, in this small town, he felt out of place and conspicuous.
“What can I get you?” a guy behind the counter asked.
“I’ll take whatever’s on tap,” Jack said, picking up a menu.
A moment later the man slid him a draft. “The name’s Chip. Let me know what I can get you and I’ll be sure you’re taken care of.”
“Chip. Bridget’s uncle, right?”
Chip’s grin showed that he was pleased by the connection. “That’s right. You know my niece?”
“I’m staying at the inn,” Jack said, but even as he said it, he knew that there was more to it, and he sensed that this Chip fellow did, too.
He did know Bridget. Or he was starting to. And it had been a long time since he’d gotten to know anyone. Or let anyone in.
And he wasn’t so sure how to feel about that.
“Ah, well, if I know Bridget she’s giving you the royal treatment then.” Chip’s eyes gleamed when he spoke of his niece, and Jack couldn’t blame him. She was a nice woman. Smart. Pretty. Driven.
Right. He opened his menu and started scanning the appetizer list, but Chip wasn’t done talking yet.
“In town for the Flower Fest?”
Ah, yes. The Flower Fest. It was all anyone could talk about, it seemed. Did people in small towns really like this sort of thing? He made a mental note to research this when he got back to the inn.
“No, just a change of scenery,” he said.
“Bridget’s probably booked full. I know the hotel is,” Chip remarked as he refilled a water glass for the woman to Jack’s left. “But then, I can’t complain. She always refers her customers to me.”
Jack scanned the menu, deciding on the chowder to start, and a burger for his main course. “I’ll have to thank her then. It all looks delicious.”
“Thank her in person, if you’d like. She’s right over there.” Chip jutted his chin and Jack turned to see Bridget sitting at a corner table with her two sisters and an elderly woman who must have been her grandmother.
Stiffening, he turned around. He’d taken her up on the suggestion, and maybe, maybe he had hoped to run into her. But he wasn’t about to go over to her table. “I don’t want to interrupt their family time.”
“Nonsense! They’d be happy to see you. Besides, every day is family time around here,” Chip pointed out with a grin.
Jack’s own smile felt thin. He couldn’t imagine that way of life, running into people he knew, stopping to chat at someone’s table in a restaurant. In New York, he was free. Free to walk where he wanted and dine when wanted and go about his daily routine without risk of running into a single person he knew.
Sure, there were his neighbors. His walk-up was small, with six units in total. He recognized the lady across the hall. A woman in her sixties whom he knew liked to order Chinese takeout on Fridays and pizza on Sundays and who always left for work at eight and returned at seven. What she did for work, he didn’t know. They exchanged pleasantries the few times they were stuck on the landing together, each eagerly fishing for their keys, but other than that, her world was her own and his was his own. He probably couldn’t recognize the rest of the people in the building in a police lineup.
But here, in this small town, you couldn’t go anywhere without knowing someone.
He wasn’t so sure how he felt about that, either.
“Top you off?” Chip asked, eyeing Jack’s half-finished beer.
Jack shrugged. He could say no, that he had to get back to the inn and work. And maybe that’s what he should do. But tonight, he wasn’t in a rush. Tonight he wanted to sit here, in this cozy pub with the ocean at his back, in a room where everyone knew everyone’s name and probably their life story too.
Tonight, he wanted to lose himself in a fantasy, and not worry about reality or everything that had brought him to this point.
***
Bridget had barely started her main course when her phone rang. She looked at the screen, knowing who it was without having to check, and not at all surprised to see that it was Ryan.
Margo caught her eye, looking displeased. “Do you have to go?”
Bridget felt her shoulders sink. The girls had finally lifted Mimi’s spirits and she was having fun herself. Margo was making plans for the wedding, and this wasn’t a conversation that Bridget wanted to prolong.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, pushing back her chair. She walked toward the front of the restaurant, waiting until she was away from the tables before connecting the call. “Ryan?”
“Hey, I hate to do this, but can you come get Emma a little early tonight?”
Bridget bit back a wave of impatience, and not because she didn’t want to see her daughter. She had made plans, and now they would have to be altered, because, as usual, Ryan couldn’t stick to his.
“I’m having dinner with my sisters and Mimi at The Lantern,” she informed him. Dunley’s was just down the street. From the noise in the background, this was where he currently was, even if he had promised to take Emma to see the new animated movie tonight. “If you can bring her by, I can place an order for her while I wait.”
“Cool,” Ryan said, and Bridget couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the casual way he treated this situation. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes. Meaning more like five. She wondered what it was this time—bartender got sick and he had to stand in, or the cook’s car broke down and Ryan had to roll up his sleeves. Or maybe Ryan just wanted to have fun. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Bridget disconnected the call and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans, her heart sinking when she thought of how disappointed Emma would be to miss the movie. She’d been chattering about it all afternoon, and now she’d have nothing to share with her friends at school on Monday.
She sighed and turned to the bar, hoping for a glance of Chip. He always cheered her up, sometimes just by listening, sometimes just by taking her mind off her troubles.
But tonight the person she saw wasn’t Chip. It was Jack. He was wedged in the middle of the bar, a burger in front of him, and a half-finished beer in his hand. He was watching the TV screen. The Sox were up at bat. She idly wondered if he was Yankees fan, being from New York. If so, he’d be wise not to mention that to her uncle.
She glanced across the room, to where her sisters were eagerly talking, leaning across the table. No doubt Abby was menu planning.
She glanced at the door. No sign of Ryan yet.
She had a few minutes.
“So you decided to take me up on the recommendation after all,” she said, coming up behind Jack.
Any worry she had that he might be annoyed at her interruption was put to rest when she saw the way his eyes shot up and his mouth curved into a big grin.
Her stomach flipped and fluttered all at once. Oh, Lordy. She had it bad.
“What can I say?” he grinned. “You convinced me.”
“See, this town isn’t so bad if you give it a chance.”
“So I’m noticing,” Jack replied, his gaze lingering just a touch longer than usual.
Bridget swallowed hard and licked her bottom lip, trying to think of something to say next and coming up completely blank.
“I’m waiting for Emma,” she explained, realizing that she was hovering, and the man probably wanted to take another bite out of that burger in his hand before it went cold.
He gestured to his plate. “Fry while you wait?”
It was tempting. After all, Chip made the best steel-cut fries in town. She shook her head. “Our orders will probably be up by the time I’m back, but you just reminded me to place something for Emma.” She craned her neck until she spotted Chip; he winked when he caught her eye. “Can I get Emma’s usual?”
He nodded, without having to be told anything more. “I’ll make sure it comes out with your order.” Frowning, he said, “I thought Emma was with Ryan tonight.”
Bridget’s mouth thinned. “Something came up.” Something always came up.
Chip gave her a knowing look. “I’ll pass the word along to your waiter.”
“Thanks, Chip. I can always count on you.”
“Yes,” he said. “You can.”
Bridget felt instantly better, just as she always did when she was around Chip. Margo had that kind of effect on her too, and more than once a week she was thanking the heavens that her sister had returned to Oyster Bay, just when she needed her the most.
“And here’s my favorite girl!” Chip announced as a breeze of salty air blew Bridget’s back. She turned to see Emma and Ryan standing in the doorway. Emma looking tearful, Ryan looking sheepish.
She bit back a wave of exasperation. Once again, she would be left to clear up Ryan’s mess.
“Hi, sweetie!” She beamed as she reached in to squeeze her daughter, even though she had only just seen her a couple hours ago. She couldn’t help it; she missed Emma terribly on the nights Ryan had her. The hours dragged on and the house felt empty. It had always been this way, even before she opened the business and before she moved back into the big family home. Then she’d fill her nights visiting Trish and Jeffrey, admiring their cozy Colonial, wishing that life had taken a different path for her.
And now it had.
And it would all be okay. In a matter of minutes, Ryan would leave and Emma and she would rejoin her sisters and Mimi and soon all these lingering feelings that always came with seeing Ryan and splitting Emma would subside.
“Sorry about this,” Ryan said, giving her a little smile.
Bridget maintained a stony expression. There were only so many apologies she could hear before she knew they didn’t count. Still…Ryan wasn’t all bad. There were times where he redeemed himself.
No, Ryan wasn’t bad. But he wasn’t an adult either. Ryan was like Abby. He lived by his dreams and changed plans on a whim. Maybe this was why she was so hard on her sister sometimes.
She softened a little, shrugging her shoulders. “Things come up. I understand.” And she did, to a degree. After all, she had to miss Emma’s first-grade class holiday party because she had a real estate closing that ran long. She’d never forgiven herself. Lay in bed that night heavy with guilt, and to this day felt on edge when any mention of a class party was released. Emma had forgotten about it. It was years ago! But not Bridget.
Something told her that Ryan wouldn’t be losing any sleep tonight, though. That was the difference between them. And that, perhaps, was why it never could have worked out for them.
Ryan’s shoulders seemed to relax at her change in demeanor and his grin broadened. Bridget looked away, focused on her daughter instead. It was still hard to look Ryan in the eye, even after all these years, and know that she’d tried, tried so hard, and that it hadn’t been enough.
“I wanted to go to the movie!” Emma’s lower lip began to quiver.
Now Bridget’s smile had officially slipped. She gave Ryan a warning look. A look that said, “You had better make this up to her.”
“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow at the Flower Fest,” Ryan told Emma, who looked only partially assuaged. “I’ll get you an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert!”
Bridget rolled her eyes. If they weren’t in a public place, specifically her uncle’s restaurant, she’d have words with Ryan. This was his MO—he let Emma down and then tried to win her affection with sugar. Donuts, ice cream. Even candy.
“She doesn’t need a stomach ache,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.
Ryan’s gaze was hard. “An extra scoop of ice cream never hurt anyone.”
“Yes, but there’s no need for—” She shook her head. She made a promise to herself a long time ago not to argue with Ryan in front of Emma, and she was breaking her own rule. “Forget it. We’ll see you tomorrow at the Flower Fest. Eleven o’clock?”
Something in his eyes flitted. “Eleven. Sure.”
Bridget felt a familiar twist of anxiety on behalf of her daughter. He couldn’t let her down again. He wouldn’t.
“Eleven,” she said again, holding his gaze. “See you then.”
She turned around to say good night to Jack before they headed back to their table, but the pleasant, easygoing expression on his face seemed to have been replaced with something a little more rigid.
If she didn’t know better, she might just call it jealousy.