The Sunshine Potluck Society

Chapter 32

The office was buzzing when Debbie went in the next day. It felt good to be back, although she was tired and her head was pounding from the fundraiser the night before. Who thought it would be a good idea to put the event on a Thursday night? She’d have to make that point to Gwen the next time she saw her.

Her inbox was a disaster area. There were hundreds of unread emails. She worked her way through them slowly, stopping for client meetings and the weekly staff meeting.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that there had been no emergencies this time when she was out of the office. And the team had managed to figure out how to deal with every issue that arose, simply copying her in on email threads so she could catch up.

By lunchtime, she was feeling better. She went out to lunch with the partners so they could update her on each of their clients and the status of each active case. There was a divorce that was particularly messy, but it was being handled professionally by the team. Another case involved a lawsuit for a real estate investment gone wrong. The litigation team was at full capacity and bringing in more than their budgeted billable hours, which was good to see.

After a lunch of grilled barramundi and steamed vegetables with a side of brown rice, she went back to the office to finish her work for the day. She was determined to get home earlier than she normally would, and with her reduced workload, after having handed many of her most time-consuming clients over to the rest of the team, it looked as though she would manage it.

Her desk phone rang, and she answered while typing out an email. “Hello. Debbie Holmes speaking.”

“Debbie Holmes, this is Caleb Holmes.” Her husband’s voice sent a thrill up her spine, and she smiled.

“Why are you calling my desk phone?”

“I called your mobile. You didn’t answer.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out the mobile. “Oh, sorry. I have it on silent.”

“Well, I wanted to see if you would go on a date with me tonight.”

“A date?” She grinned and leaned back in her chair. “That sounds nice. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. But it will involve food.”

“Good, because I love food.”

“I know you do.”

“It’s my love language.”

“Lucky for me,” he replied with a chuckle.

“No hints?”

“Not one. But do you think you could get home a little early?”

“Already planning on it,” she said. “I’ll see you around five.”

“That would be perfect,” he said. “See you then. Love you.”

After she hung up the phone, she sat still for a few moments, chewing on one arm of her glasses. Evelyne walked in with a stack of messages and set them on the desk.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked with a smile.

“Huh? Am I grinning?”

“Like a schoolgirl in love,” Evelyne replied. “What’s going on?”

“I have a date with my husband tonight.”

Evelyne’s eyes widened. “Really? Well, look at you. Are you two the cutest things?”

“I think we might be,” Debbie replied with a laugh, her cheeks warming.

“If I ever get married, I want a marriage like that.”

“You will. Don’t give up.”

Evelyne shrugged. “It’s hard not to. I’m thirty-four years old. I’m supposed to be married with three kids by now. And online dating is the worst. I feel like I’ve been on a first date with every single man in his thirties in the entire city. And not one of them was marriage material.”

Debbie sighed. “You are a wonderful person. I know you’ll find him one day.”

“I hope I find him before my eggs shrivel up and die,” Evelyne said. “Oh, and your four-thirty appointment cancelled, so you’re done for the day.”

“Wonderful,” Debbie replied. “I’m going home early to get ready for my date.”

“Have fun,” Evelyne said. “I want to hear all about it next week.”

Debbie hurried home and had a long, luxurious bath with oils and candles. Then she blow-dried her hair and dressed in a long navy gown with a set of pearls her mother had given her. When Caleb got home, she was ready to leave and had poured them each a small glass of scotch on ice.

She handed him the glass and took his briefcase. Then she kissed him softly. “Welcome home, honey.”

“I could get used to this, you know? It’s a dangerous precedent to set,” he said as he took her in one arm and planted another, deeper kiss on her lips.

It was as though her breath was snatched from her lungs. She felt giddy. How long had it been since she’d responded to him this way? It felt like forever.

She sat and watched him dress while they chatted about their days and sipped their scotch. Then it was time to leave. They walked outside, and an Uber pulled up to the front of the building. They climbed in.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he said.

She snuggled into his side, and he rested his arm around her shoulders. The city was brightly lit by now, with lights dotting the sides of skyrise buildings all around them. Traffic was heavy, with cars stopping and starting, the occasional honk and the rev of engines. He smelled like cologne and scotch. His arm around her was warm and heavy.

The car wove in and out of traffic, down one-way streets and through the city until they were in Fortitude Valley. The night was young; most of the foot traffic was still business related rather than party goers. But there were clumps of young people here and there. The girls, in skimpy clothing, clip-clopping in high platform shoes, and the boys standing about looking awkward in line outside nightclubs.

The Uber pulled up to the curb, and they stepped out.

“Where are we?” Debbie scanned the street, feeling suddenly very overdressed in the midst of the hip nightlife scene and the hurrying commuters on their way home from work after a long week.

“You don’t know yet?” Caleb took her hand and led her down the footpath.

Suddenly it clicked. They’d come here on their very first date. He’d brought her to a small restaurant tucked away on a backstreet of the Valley, and they’d sat on cushions and eaten with their fingers. And it’d been incredible, romantic and delicious.

“Garuva?”

He laughed. “That’s right. I hope you don’t mind sitting on a cushion while we eat.”

“I suppose I can do it one more time. Although you may have to help me back to my feet again.”

He led the way to the narrow door. She wouldn’t have spotted or recognised it if she’d been walking by. Inside, it was quite dark. The entire space was decorated with long, hanging curtains dividing cubicles with cushions on the floor. It was lit by candles, and hushed conversations radiated out to greet them.

They sat in one of the curtained squares on large cushions that were reasonably comfortable. Debbie adjusted her dress so she could sit cross-legged, then adjusted again when she found that wouldn’t work for long.

They ate bites of shark dipped in a spicy sauce. Salt-and-pepper calamari breaded and fried. Various pastry-covered parcels like spring rolls, dumplings and samosa. And they finished with an assortment of sweet treats, including cheesecake and biscotti with coffee. It was a complete mishmash of food styles and cuisines, and she loved every minute of it.

“Do you remember how young we were when we were here the first time?” Caleb asked as he sipped his coffee.

“I think I was twenty-seven, and you were twenty-nine.”

“That sounds about right. I knew then…”

“Knew what?” she asked.

“That I was going to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“It was our first date,” she said with a laugh.

He nodded. “It was. But I knew. Right away.”

Her face was warm from the wine and candlelight, but it felt warmer after his words. “You didn’t have any hesitation?”

He smiled. “Nope. None. I never got cold feet or anything like that. I knew that you were the one, and that didn’t change. It still hasn’t changed. We got a bit off track for a while there. I felt unseen and hurt, and I know we’re still working through some things. But I wanted you to understand that I haven’t changed my perspective—we’re meant for each other.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Marriage is harder than I thought it’d be.”

He nodded. “It is. Much harder.”

“We always had such a great connection. I think we took it for granted and didn’t work hard enough to keep it.”

“I didn’t know how,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”