AFTER MY TALK WITH TUCKER this morning, I did a lot of self-reflecting. I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting, but this morning some things finally clicked in my brain. The manual labor I did for my mama might’ve helped too. I haven’t had much time to get in my daily workout lately, and with Dani giving me the cold shoulder, I had a lot of pent-up energy.
While I was hauling compost to the greenhouse for my mama, as part of my punishment for the whole Alex incident, I realized a few things. One, shit stinks. Two, my mama will always follow through on a promise. Three, I’m willing do anything to fix things, even if that means saying I’m sorry.
This morning, my mama reminded me that apologizing doesn’t equal weakness. It doesn’t mean I’m admitting defeat or losing. It means I’m human and I made a mistake. I am, of course, sorry about the whole Alex thing. I wasn’t thinking. There was a small part of me that knew she’d show up on Christmas, but I didn’t think it would cause World War III. It was a stupid move. Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all, I can see now that Alex being there was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.
Both Deacon and Dani see her as the catalyst for everything that’s been going wrong lately, and that might be true. I can spot a snake a mile away, but it’s time for me to take some ownership and admit my own faults.
My vision has been clouded since the night Alex walked in and dangled prime real estate in front of me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had access to my brain and knew exactly when to show up and exactly what to say. Since then, I’ve let my ambitions overshadow what really matters.
Having a restaurant in New Orleans will mean nothing without Dani and Deacon by my side.
I don’t know how I’m going to make everything right, but I’m going to start by apologizing. I’m also planning on wooing Dani with her favorite dinner. On my way into the city, I stopped and picked up all the ingredients for crawfish etouffee. Hopefully, she’s hungry and ready to listen to what I have to say.
On the phone the past couple of days, she’s been back to her usual happy self, but I can tell she’s been distracted. I’m hoping it’s just work. I know she’s been busy on a few different projects. She’d put most things on hold for the holidays, so she’s been making up time. I guess me sleeping at the cottage has kind of worked out for the best, even though I hate not spending every night with her by my side.
She needed some space and I gave it to her. I would’ve been pushing my way through the door on Christmas night, demanding that she talk to me, if it hadn’t been for my dad. He helped me realize this is normal. He said relationships go through phases. When it all starts, there’s this immediate spark and it builds to a roaring fire, sometimes completely knocking you off your feet and taking your breath away. When the smoke from that inferno begins to clear, what you’re left with is the foundation, the building blocks that you’ll be able to build the rest of your life on.
Dani and I have our spark and we’ve felt the fire, now we’re finding out what we’re made of.
I believe we’re strong.
I love her and I know she loves me.
After we get through this, I’m going to ask her to marry me. Maybe not tonight, but soon.
Before I go to the apartment to surprise Dani, I make a stop at Grinders.
When I asked my mama for some advice this morning on how to make things right with Dani, she told me I had to start at the root of the problem.
Never cover up the weeds, they’ll just come back to haunt you.
Parking in my usual spot, I jump out of the truck and grab the six-pack from the back. I figure a peace offering was a good icebreaker. Between my mama’s gardening metaphors and my dad’s fire talk, I don’t know if I’m pulling weeds or putting out a blaze, but here I am.
“Hey, Micah,” Kara says from the hallway as I walk in the backdoor.
“Hey, Kara.”
“Uh, Deke’s here,” she mentions hesitantly. “You’re not on the schedule until Saturday.”
“Right, I know. I’m not here to work, but I do need to see him. Is he in the kitchen?” I ask, making my way around her and popping my head in the office to make sure he’s not in there.
“No, and it’s probably a bad time.” She cuts her eyes from left to right and then lowers her voice. “It’s kind of a bad day at the office, if you know what I mean. He’s not in a good mood.”
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Well, our new dishwasher quit. The food order got screwed up, so we had to change the special. And the computers are glitching.”
“Shit. Bad day.”
“Kara!” Deacon’s voice booms down the hall causing her eyes to bug out of her head.
“Crap! Coming, Boss,” she yells back, holding up a stack of manual order pads. Normally, we key everything into a kiosk and the orders show up on a screen in the back. Looks like we’ll be playing it old school today.
“What are you doin’ here?” Deacon, less than pleased to see me.
“I stopped by to talk, but I see it’s a bad time.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” My normally in-control-of-the-situation brother looks frazzled . . . and tired.
All of a sudden, I feel the weight of the boulder between us. It’s messing up everything. I should be here. Before all of this shit with Alex, if things would’ve been going wrong, he’d have called me.
“What can I do to help?”
He hesitates for a minute, but then takes a look back down the hallway toward the main part of the restaurant. For a second, I think he’s going to tell me to leave, he’s got it. But he finally turns back around, letting out a deep pent-up breath. “We could use a dish washer.”
“I’m on it,” I tell him, sitting the six-pack in his arms and rolling up my sleeves.
The kitchen crew all give me surprised, puzzled looks as I walk in and begin scrubbing plates, but none of them say a word.
After a few minutes, Joe whistles at me to get my attention.
Glancing up, I see him grinning over his shoulder as he mans the grill. “Nice timing.”
“I didn’t know what I was walkin’ into,” I tell him with a laugh.
“Oh, you know, just another perfect storm kind of day,” he mutters.
Joe and I both know those kind of days. We’ve experienced them together many times over the years. It’s those days where a series of events leads to a hurricane. Separate, they’re not that bad, but put them all together and it feels like you should just close the doors and call it a day.
“Special got screwed up, huh?” I ask, missing having kitchen talks with Joe.
“Yeah, but no biggie. I raided the fridge and came up with a replacement.”
“So, what is it?”
“Shrimp marmalade grinder with a side of red cabbage slaw.”
“Stop talkin’ sexy to me, Joe. You know it ain’t gonna work,” I tease, laughing when I feel something hit the back of my head. Probably a shrimp.
“Don’t waste the profit,” Deacon bellows from the door.
Joe and I give each other side glances, trying not to laugh. It’s definitely in our best interests not to laugh.
The rest of the afternoon seems to run a little smoother. Deacon doesn’t talk much, except for the occasional request for me to run out and take an order or to help plate food. It’s kind of like old times and it makes me miss being at this place even more than I already did. But what it really makes me miss is Pockets.
I miss the old times.
I miss the camaraderie.
There’s not much of that at Lagniappe yet. I know it’ll happen over time, but it’s not going to be the same without Deacon. I’ve had a plan working in my mind for a while, about how to really fix everything—buying Alex out. But I know it’s going to take some serious cash and before I talk to anybody about it, I’ve gotta have my ducks in a row.
When everything seems to be under control and the rush is over, I look around for Deacon. I need to get to the apartment and Dani, but I’m not leaving without doing what I really came here to do.
I’m not gonna cover weeds.
Deacon pops his head around the corner, tapping the wall. “Good work today, everyone. I know things got crazy, but y’all handled it like champs. Thanks for the hard work.”
The kitchen crew nod and murmur their acceptance of the praise. Deacon’s always been one to let you know when you do a good job. I’ve craved that praise my whole life, even when we were kids. When we were playing backyard football, I just wanted to be included. As we got older and we moved to school ball, I just wanted to be as good as Deacon.
I’m still trying to be as good as Deacon.
“Hey, Deke. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I ask, before I talk myself out of it. As much as I know what I need to say, it doesn’t make it any easier. Admitting I’m wrong is something I hate doing, but I’m trying not to be a stubborn mule, as my mama called me this morning. Actually, she called all of the Landry men stubborn mules and told me one of us was gonna have to break or this feud would go on forever. So, I’m gonna do it. Since I technically started all of this by accepting Alex’s offer, it should be me to offer the olive branch.
“Sure,” he sighs in agreement, but I can tell he’s annoyed at the request. My instinct is to bristle at his reaction and tell him to forget it, but I don’t.
We walk down the hall toward the office and both enter, taking our normal seats. Deacon grabs one of the beers I brought him and pops the top, leaning back in his chair.
“What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for Alex showing up at Christmas,” I tell him, not wasting any more time as I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “I’m sorry I ruined the day for everyone. It was never my intention.”
“I can’t believe you invited her,” he says with disgust, his face screwing up like the beer he’s drinking has gone bad. “What were you thinkin’? I don’t know how you work with her, but invitin’’ her to family Christmas?” He shakes his head and places his can down on the desk, leaning toward me. “There’s nothin’ goin’ on between the two of you, is there?”
“What? No! You know there’s not. Why would you even ask that?” He’s mentioned it before and I shut him down then. The fact that he’s digging up old bones and trying to make this more than it is pisses me off, but I work hard to maintain my cool.
I came here to apologize. Reaching across the desk and punching him wouldn’t help the situation.
He lets out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, just like dad.
“I know you’re not,” he admits. “That was a low blow. Sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“We’re kind of at an impasse with this, huh?” he asks, tenting his fingers under his chin. When did Deacon become a spitting image of our father?
“Pretty much.” I lean back in my chair, wondering where we go from here. “You hate Alex. So do I, on most days,” I admit. “But I’m in this thing and I’m not giving up, especially this late in the game.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he says, looking me in the eye. “Landrys don’t quit.”
I nod my head in agreement. “But I also hate how things are between us. I hate that this place was goin’ to shit today and you didn’t call me. We’re supposed to be partners.”
“Well, you’ve been so busy with Alex and New Orleans. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“We’re going to have to figure something out.”
“I know,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about a lot of things, but there’s never a good time and . . . well, we’ve been ignorin’ each other like school girls who’re sharin’ a boyfriend.” He shrugs, pausing for a second before continuing. “The insurance settlement for Pockets will be deposited next week. I want to start a rebuild.”
A couple of months ago, I wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted. I didn’t know if I wanted to rebuild Pockets. Cutting our loses and using the spare money for something else—a new venture—was a bit more appealing—grass being greener on the other side and all that.
But now, now I want it. I’m craving the way things were. I want to get back to what matters. I want Pockets back. I want my partnership with Deacon back. I want to fix things with Dani. I want to come through the fire and be stronger for it.
“When do we start?” I ask.
Deacon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to line up some contractors, but I’d like to stick with the old buildin’ plans, if that’s alright with you. I don’t see any sense changin’ it. I thought it was perfect the way it was.”
“I agree.”
He nods, but he doesn’t say anything. His expression is leary—guarded.
It’s gonna take us a while to get back to normal, but this is a good start.
“We’ll discuss it later. I gotta get home. Cami has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Yeah, I need to go, too. I’m makin’ dinner for Dani.”
“Does she know?” he asks, like he knows something I don’t.
“No, I’m surprising her.”
“Well, hope that goes well.” Giving me a hard slap on the back, he walks out of the office and leaves me wondering what he knows that I don’t.
Without wasting any more time, I head out to my truck. As I’m sliding into the driver’s seat, I pull my phone out of the console and see I have a missed call from Dani.
Hitting redial, I wait for her to pick up. I’m only a few minutes from the apartment, but I want to make sure she doesn’t need anything on my way over. My being here was going to be a surprise, but maybe it’s better I let her know.
“Hello.” Her voice is breathy, like she’s been walking up stairs or running laps.
“Hello, beautiful,” I reply, missing her even more now that she’s on the phone. Pressing my foot harder on the gas, I speed down the road toward home.
Home.
Wherever Dani is, that’s home, whether it’s an apartment in Baton Rouge, a cottage in French Settlement, or a hut in Timbuktu.
“Hey, I . . . uh . . .” she hesitates and I hear shuffling on the other end of the phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask, turning the corner and coming up on the apartment. Maybe I’ll just surprise her after all.
“I’m folding clothes. Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
I park the truck and hop out, grabbing the sack of groceries.
“I’m all ears,” I tell her, feeling a sense of relief that things seem to be getting back to a good place. Hopefully, after tonight, everything will be better and we can get past this and get back to the good stuff. Like falling asleep with her beside me and waking up wrapped around her. I need her more than she knows. Shit, I need her more than I even know. The week or so I’ve been staying at the cottage has definitely driven that fact home for me.
I knock on the door.
“Well.” She pauses. “Just a sec. Someone’s at the door.”
I smile, waiting for her because I want to see her face. I love when she’s surprised. Her green eyes light up and I love the way her lips part with a small smile. Right now, I need to kiss those lips so, she better hurry.
“Hold on,” she yells at the door—at me—as I knock again, growing impatient.
When the door opens, her hair is just how I like it—messy and twisted up in a bun on top of her head. There’s a strand coming loose and I instinctively reach out and tuck it behind her ear.
“Hey,” she says, confused, but still surprised, just as I’d hoped.
“Hey,” I reply, reaching for her waist and pulling her to me. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt that’s cut low. It’s sexy as hell and begging to be in a pile on the floor. Bending down, I capture her lips in mine and she leans into the kiss, her hands coming up and gripping the front of my shirt.
We need this.
It’s been too long.
It’s not good for us to be apart, because we’re so much better together.
“What did you need to tell me?” I ask in a low, whispered tone, hoping she’s going to say that she needs me in bed, naked. Stat.
“Did you buy groceries?” she asks, noticing the bag still in my arm.
“I did. I’m makin’ you your favorite.”
“Crawfish etouffee?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Yes, ma’am.” I step around her and place the bag on the large island in the kitchen. This island is one of the reasons Deacon and I originally got this place. We loved the open floor plan and the industrial feel. It was the perfect bachelor pad for many years. But now, it’s perfect for Dani . . . For us.
She’s put her touch on things, has prints laying on all flat surfaces. There’s a great photo of the family she took back when she was doing the article on the plantation. But my favorite is the one of us that she had Cami take. Dani edited it into black and white. With the color taken away, the most important parts are what you see—her, me, the way we look at each other.
“Shit,” Dani groans as she begins to pace the space on the other side of the island.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, looking around to see if there’s something I missed.
I think about the way Deacon reacted when I told him I was coming over here to surprise her with dinner and I wonder if there really is something important I don’t know.
“This was going to be a lot easier over the phone.” She stops and faces me. “I didn’t realize just how much I’ve been missing you until I opened that door.” I watch her swallow as she tries to figure out what to say or maybe how to say it.
“What happened to absence makes the heart grow fonder?” I ask, teasing—trying to relieve some of the heaviness that’s suddenly settled over the space around us.
Dani gives me a smirk and shakes her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that I really have missed you, but I thought I’d be able to do this . . . but now that you’re here, I don’t know if I can . . . but I want to, kinda have to, because I’ve already committed myself to it.”
“What?” I ask, frustration building as she skirts around whatever it is she needs to tell me.
“I thought you’d be busy with the restaurant,” she continues. “I didn’t expect you to show up here.”
“I made time to come here. I want us to talk and I want to make things right between us. I hate the distance. I don’t like spending every night without you. I know you said you needed some space, and I gave you that. But it’s time to figure this out.”
“I agree,” she admits. “With all of it. I hate the space. I don’t even know why I asked for it. I think I just felt hurt that you’d invite Alex into family time—our time—especially on such an important day. She gets enough of your time.”
Dani huffs, placing here hands on her hips and hanging her head. “God, I’m getting ready to sound like a selfish bitch, but here goes nothing.” Looking back up, she levels me with that fire in her eyes I love so much. “I think I’ve been jealous of the restaurant and Alex.”
I go to stop her, but she holds a hand up. “Let me finish.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” she continues. “But after Graham, and I don’t mean to bring him up again, but it’s the only way I can explain what’s been going on inside my head.” She paces a few steps before stopping and bracing her arms on the counter. “I have these annoying insecurities that pop up, even when I don’t want them to. I knew you’d be busy, but I didn’t know how busy, and I didn’t know how much I’d miss you or how much it would affect our relationship. Or how jealous I would feel about the time you spend with Alex and the restaurant. But I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. That’s what I want to apologize for,” I tell her, pleading, as I slap my hand on my chest, right where it hurts when I see her hurting. “I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry for letting the restaurant take precedence. I never meant for that to happen. You’re more important than all of it. Don’t ever doubt that. And I’m sorry for Alex showing up and ruining everything. I don’t just mean Christmas. I mean period. If I could go back, I’d figure out a way to do this restaurant without her.”
“I know.” She seems relieved, but still sad. “I know all of that. I think I was just as pissed off at myself for letting my stupid insecurities takeover than I was at you for inviting Alex to Christmas. I know you were just being nice. Your mom told me. You’re a good person, Micah. I know that and I love you for it, and in spite of it.”
“So, let’s have sex and then I’ll make you dinner.” I laugh, trying to ease the tension, and so does she, but then her smile turns serious again.
“I wish that could happen. But I accepted a last-minute job from Piper this morning. I’m supposed to be in Birmingham tonight for an emergency meeting.”
“What?” The words coming out of her mouth are plain as day, but the meaning behind them is getting muddled. I stopped processing them when she said she took a job for Piper. In Birmingham.
“Piper called this morning. She had a photographer cancel on her last minute, so I’m taking the job.”
“Did Deacon know about this?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah. I needed a ride to pick up my rental car. He took me over there this morning. I tried to get a flight, but there weren’t any available this last minute. Besides, it’s only a five-hour drive.”
It’s my turn to be hurt because my girlfriend asked my brother for a ride instead of calling me. And my brother knew about something as important as Dani taking a job in Birmingham before I did.
“Did you not think to ask me about this first?” My voice is raised and I’m fighting to keep my emotions in check, but it’s getting harder by the second. Just as I thought things were getting back on track, the rug gets ripped out from under me.
“Last time I checked, I don’t need your permission,” Dani seethes. “Besides, it’s only for a week. You’ll be busy putting the finishing touches on the restaurant and I’ll be back by opening night.”
A week. I survived one. I guess I can survive another. But it’s another week of missing her and another week of being apart. “This is just bad timin’,” I say, without thinking.
“Let’s not start comparing bad timing,” Dani says, walking to the bedroom and coming back out with her suitcase trailing behind her. “I didn’t really get a say when you jumped right into a new business venture shortly after I moved here.”
“You told me to go for it.” My words come out a little louder than I planned and Dani immediately balks at my tone, whipping her head around with fire blazing in her eyes.
“What else was I supposed to say?” Dani yells. “You were like a kid with a shiny new toy. I wasn’t going to be the one to crush your dreams or tell you what to do. How could I have told you no?”
We have a standoff across the island for what seems like an hour, but I’m sure it’s merely minutes.
“I know you had other plans for this evening,” she says with reluctance, breaking the silence. “And I know you’re disappointed, but I have to go.”
“I guess I’ll see you in a week.” I huff, like a petulant child who didn’t get what they want, but that’s exactly how I feel—frustrated beyond belief, a little hurt, and disappointed. This didn’t go at all like I planned.
“I’m sorry,” Dani sighs. Walking around the counter, she reaches up and kisses me. I don’t return it, but I still love the feel of her lips on mine.
When she turns to walk away, I realize I can’t let her leave like that. So, I grab her and kiss her, like my life depends on it, because it does. I need her to know how much I love her, even though I’m pissed, I love her more than anything in this world.
After she walks out the door, I go to the window, still in disbelief things went down the way they did. I should either be cooking for Dani or getting naked for Dani, but instead, I’m standing at the window, watching her drive off.
In a bright red mustang.
It’s just like her—hot, fiery, and strong. Now, if she’d just turn that thing around and come back to me, everything would be fine.