CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MELANIE
I wasted half the morning categorizing my pen collection.
Dominic was always mystified that I kept so many pens around my desk when most of my work was done on the laptop. When I haughtily informed him that a girl could never have too much of a good thing, he had smirked like I’d just said something dirty.
I was already done with payroll, and I should have been catching up with entering the vendor invoices in the accounting system. Instead I was rolling a pen across my desk over and over again. I’d set my chin on the desk, and was pushing the pen lightly, watching it roll toward the far edge. Just before it fell off, I’d grab it, and feel triumphant for a split second. It was a simpleminded game that a curious toddler might play. At least that’s what Gio probably thought when he walked in the office.
“Having fun?” he asked wryly as he closed the door behind himself.
“Fun?” I snatched the pen just as it was about to topple off the desk. “There is no fun here. This is a den of extreme productivity.”
Gio snickered and pulled a chair up to my desk. He sat down.
“I didn’t even know you were here,” I said, twirling the pen in my fingers.
“Well,” he said, “with Dom gone, I just wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”
“I think we’re okay. The servers seem okay and the cooks seem okay and even the dishwashers seem okay. Really, we’re running like a well-oiled machine.”
Gio was observing me closely. “And you, Melanie?” he asked gently. “Are you okay?”
I smiled rather idiotically. “I’m great, Gio.”
He didn’t smile back. In fact he seemed rather thoughtful, like he had something heavy on his mind. “I know you probably have the impression that I don’t approve of Dominic’s relationship with you,” he said.
I stiffened. By now I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew . . . or something like that. But Gio and I had never talked about it. I racked my brain for some kind of adequate response, but adequate responses were an endangered species at the moment.
Gio tilted his head and studied me. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to say that I don’t disapprove, not at all.”
“Does Dominic have a kid?” I blurted out, then slapped a hand over my mouth like that might yank the question back and return it to the depths of my mind.
Gio was completely taken aback. “Why in the hell would you ask that?”
“I overheard a conversation,” I admitted with a grimace. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you. This is a topic better discussed with Dominic. Can you just forget that my mouth short-circuited a minute ago?”
“Ah, Melanie,” he clucked and shook his head. When his eyes met mine, though, his expression seemed kind.
“No,” he said firmly. “Dominic does not have a kid. That was an unfortunate rumor that I’m sure he’ll tell you more about if you ask him. But the answer to your question is no.”
Relief flooded through me. “Why did he go to New York?” I asked.
Gio looked uncertain all of a sudden. “That’s tougher to answer. I think you’d be better off waiting for him to explain.”
“I’m really tired of waiting for his answers,” I said with some resentment. “It’s probably easier to wrestle enlightenment from the Sphinx.”
Gio snorted and I gasped, realizing that not only was I trash-talking Dominic, but that his brother—my boss no less—was my audience. That had to qualify as an unwise and supremely shitty move.
“He can be a chore,” Gio admitted delicately. Then he snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot what I came in here to tell you. Dominic left you something. He wanted you to see it today, while he’s in New York.”
“Is it a pink slip?”
Gio grinned. “Maybe, but I doubt it. He didn’t clarify. It’s in the bottom drawer of your desk, though.”
There was a sudden sharp knock at the office door, and Patsy’s voice called, “Melanie?”
“Come in,” I hollered.
Patsy burst in looking flustered. “A Canadian tour bus just unloaded in the parking lot. Oh, and Odette quit.”
“What? When did that happen?”
Patsy hesitated. “The tour bus or Odette?”
“Both. Never mind. I’m coming.”
“I’ll go help out in the kitchen,” Gio said mildly. “Canadians tend to really like pizza.”
The dining room had turned into a circus filled with exceedingly polite people. The tour bus had visited the Grand Canyon and Sedona, and now the group was spending the night in Phoenix before heading back up north. I tied my hair back and got busy helping at the hostess desk, serving food, and cashing out very happy customers.
I managed to think about Dominic very little. And then, just as I was seating a young family, it occurred to me that the way I’d been living wasn’t very good for me. I was working too much and playing too hard with a guy who might not be capable of feeling the same way about me that I felt about him.
The happily fed Canadians had just boarded their tour bus, and I was adding some small bills to the cash register, when I saw something that almost made me drop the pile of money.
“Shit,” I gasped.
Jessica, one of the young servers, was on her way to the kitchen, and she heard me. She stopped and looked at me with alarm, then redirected her gaze to what I was staring at as if hypnotized.
“You know them or something?” she asked, squinting at the attractive couple that had just walked in. Patsy grabbed a couple of menus and led them to a small table along the far wall. The woman was pretty in a wholesome soap commercial kind of way. The man who carefully pulled her chair out, then waited until she was settled before he sat down himself, was my ex-husband.
“Melanie.” Jessica was looking at me worriedly. I must have been wearing my shock all over my face. She looked from me to the couple and then back at me. “I’ll go wait on them,” she said. “They haven’t looked over here yet, so you can still escape to the office if you don’t want to run into whoever that is.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s all right. I’ll take their order.”
James and his wife were reading over their menus as I approached. I hadn’t seen him in person for a while, although I knew he’d gotten married again and had a baby. I didn’t resent him for that. We were never going to be one of those former couples who found their way to a comfortable friendship after they split, but despite all our problems, I didn’t wish he’d fall into the nearest open manhole either.
James saw me first. He glanced up from his menu and couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Melanie,” he croaked.
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Hello, James. Welcome to Esposito’s.”
He looked me over with confusion. “Wait, you work here?”
“Yes. I’m the assistant manager. Just thought I’d come over and say hello.” I nodded to the woman who was now gazing at me curiously. “You must be Maris.” I held my hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
She smiled with obvious relief and accepted my handshake. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too, Melanie.” She looked around brightly. “I’ve been looking forward to trying this place. What do you recommend?”
James had been giving me something of a troubled look, but he seemed to relax when his wife and I exchanged pleasantries. We chatted for a few minutes, and I found out they’d left their baby boy with a sitter so they could venture out for a rare date. I suggested the meat lover’s pizza with a side of garlic knots, and they agreed with enthusiasm. Maris told me again that she was glad we’d finally met face-to-face. I’d known James had been seeing her before we were formally separated. I’d been so hurt when I first found out, even though I’d already accepted that our marriage was a lost cause. But now, as I gazed at the two of them with their matching wedding bands and their relaxed smiles, I didn’t feel any pain at all. They were happy. James and I had never been happy.
As I walked back to the kitchen to drop off their order, I felt an odd sense of relief. A little later I was heading to the office to take a quick look at next week’s schedule when James caught up with me in the hallway.
“Melanie.” He touched my elbow and then immediately dropped his hand and took a step back. Whatever he wanted to say seemed to have been forgotten, because he just stood there in silence and frowned at the floor.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply. “This is weird, huh?”
He nodded with a vague smile. “Weird, yeah.” He met my eyes, and his expression was kind. “I was surprised to see you working here. Just wanted to make sure everything was all right with you.”
“You mean because I’ve taken an apparent step down in the professional world?”
James made a face. “I heard what happened at that resort you were working at. I’m sorry, Mel. I should have gotten in touch with you. I could have pulled a few strings to get you an offer somewhere.” He looked earnest. “I still can, you know. I’ve got a lot of contacts all over the valley. One of my frat brothers—”
I cut him off. “I don’t need your strings, James.”
James hesitated. Then a grudging grin spread across his face. “No, you probably don’t. You were always so capable all on your own.” He scanned the busy dining room. “Are you happy, Melanie?”
“Yes,” I said before I had a chance to think about whether it was true. “I’ll be just fine.”
He looked at me like he wanted to believe me but was unsure.
“You should go back to your wife,” I said gently. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, but didn’t budge. I got the feeling he was waiting for something. Forgiveness maybe. Or perhaps an acknowledgment that our relationship had never been built on the right kind of feelings in the first place. I didn’t hate James. I never had. He wasn’t a terrible guy. He just wasn’t meant for me.
“I’ll send over a few glasses of wine,” I said. “On the house.”
He flashed a sincere smile. “That would be great. Thanks, Mel,” he said and then returned to his wife.
I arranged for the wine to be sent over to James’s table. But I asked Jessica to serve it. That part of my life was over.
When Esposito’s closed down for the night and I returned to my office, I felt strangely at peace yet sad. I just couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t come to work each day pretending like my heart wasn’t suffering from being yanked around so roughly. I wasn’t even angry with Dominic. I’d understood what I was risking when I started up with him. I kept thinking about this movie I’d seen once. It was one of those angst-laden ensemble flicks about love and dating and all its accompanying agonies. In it the bartender informed a friend, “Look if a guy wants a relationship with you, he’ll make it happen.” Or something like that.
Anyway, I got the message. If Dominic wanted a real future with me, he would say so without reservations. He wouldn’t just talk about the places we’d go and the things we’d do; we’d actually get there. I had known from the beginning that work was Dominic’s priority, but I had hoped that at some point I might end up mattering to him as much as his restaurants did. Now I wondered if that had always been a foolish wish. After all, there was no point in trying to change someone who didn’t want to be changed. Seeing James tonight reminded me that I’d wasted too much time in the wrong relationship once. I was crazy about Dominic, but I wasn’t willing to hang out in the background in the hopes that someday I’d get promoted to first chair instead of languishing in a second fiddle role.
I heaved a very theatrical sigh and pulled my purse out from underneath my desk. I couldn’t keep waiting for some romantic grand gesture that was never going to show up. Maybe I needed to quit, to start over yet again. I could think about going back to school, or I could even ask my sister if she had use for a roommate up there in San Francisco. Staying here would only end up breaking my heart, and my heart had already taken a few beatings in this life. As soon as Dominic returned from his secret field trip, I’d explain that to him.
I was about to turn off the office light when I remembered Gio’s comment about how Dominic had left me something in the bottom drawer of my desk. With yet another sigh, I dropped my purse and went over to find out what it was.
The brown paper bag obviously held a book, a rather large hardcover book. I turned the object over in my hand curiously and then opened the bag. Authentic Mexican Cooking was the title. The colorful cover depicted thumbnail pictures of a variety of very tasty-looking dishes. But it was the note taped to the cover that really caught my attention. I knew before I started reading that it was Dominic’s handwriting.
Melanie,
I thought we could try and make some of these recipes together. Maybe we’ll even figure out the secret to your father’s tamales. I hope you like the book. I hope it makes you think of home and family. I hope it gives you pride in who you are. Food has the power to do that, you know.
There’s so much I want to tell you. There are so many things I want to share with you.
Please don’t give up on me just yet.
Love,
Dominic
I sat down and cracked open the book carefully as if it was a priceless illuminated manuscript. Some of the recipes were familiar, but many I’d never heard of. A funny thing happened as I browsed the glossy pictures and read the names of the recipes. I felt a connection to something vital and historical, a sense of familiarity. I didn’t remember much about my father’s parents, and I’d never seen the place they came from—a small town in the Mexican state of Coahuila—but as I read about the kind of food that my grandmother had probably made in her own kitchen, the same food that her own grandmother had likely made before her, I was amazed. Dominic was right about food and what it could do.
While I read through the details of the most eye-catching recipes, I snacked on a bag of Doritos that I’d forgotten I had in my desk. They tasted a little funny, but I figured they wouldn’t hurt me. After I turned every page of the book, I picked it up and hugged it to my chest.
And just like that I was no longer considering quitting Esposito’s. I wasn’t going anywhere just yet.