Chapter Seventeen
Bethany
The breakfast bar looks delicious. No wonder this B & B is known for the food as well as the luxurious 1000-count sheets and soft, fluffy mattresses. I slept like a baby. Nick was right about this place.
Taking a plate, I load it up, selecting fresh strawberries and pineapple, two kinds of pastries, and a mini quiche. My mouth waters as I take a seat at a cozy two-person table in the corner of the dining room.
A very young-looking server appears at my table the instant I sit down. “Coffee, Ma’am?”
“Yes, please.” The ma’am comment makes me feel old. Glancing around the room, almost every table is filled with gray-haired retirees here for the weekend. Surely, I look younger than them?
“Would you want decaf?”
Laughing, I reply, “No, I need all the caffeine I can get this time of day.”
She smiles, hurries over to the coffee serving area, and pours me a large mug. “Here you go! Please let me know if you need anything else.” The girl bows as if I’m royalty, then darts off to serve another table.
Everything on my plate tastes as good as it looks. I’m enjoying the cherry turnover pastry when the owner stops by my table. I met her briefly last evening when I checked in. Caroline appears to be in her sixties and reminds me of my grandmother.
“Good morning, Bethany. I trust you slept well.”
“Very well. I’m enjoying the breakfast bar, just as Nick said I would.”
“Excellent!”
I become curious when Caroline slides into the chair across from me without invite. She leans closer and speaks in a conspiratorial tone. “I was surprised to find out that Nick has a new girlfriend. We all thought he would marry Erica.”
Huh? She catches me off guard with the comment.
“Our relationship is fairly new,” I say in a clipped tone, hoping to cut off any further discussion about Nick’s former girlfriend. No such luck. Caroline takes in a breath and plows on.
“Nick and Erica were planning to open the restaurant here together. I was shocked when her name wasn’t listed as one of the chefs. They were a cute couple, but she seemed to be rather head strong. I heard they butted heads over the menu, amongst other things.” She winks. I cringe, suddenly losing my appetite.
This woman is sitting here, spilling gossip unchecked, with no encouragement from me. And she looks proud of what she’s doing.
Caroline puts her hand beside her mouth and whispers, “It was probably for the best. Too many cooks in the kitchen, so to speak.” She cackles at her own joke. My previous impression of her quickly changes. She’s a nosy, busybody gossip—nothing like my grandmother.
I’m speechless. What does a new girlfriend say when confronted with rumors about the previous girlfriend? I plaster a neutral expression on my face and sip my coffee, not rising to the bait.
After the silence stretches between us for an uncomfortable several seconds and it becomes obvious that I’m not going to comment, Caroline leaps from her chair. “Well! I’ve bent your ear long enough. Enjoy the breakfast.” She strolls over to another table to cheerfully spread more gossip, hopefully not about Nick or me.
Since the day got off to a bit of a rocky start, I wait until mid-morning to text Nick that I’m ready for him to come get me. I had to decompress after learning that the ex-girlfriend was going to be part of Nick’s new restaurant. That was a blow to my self-confidence. I wonder if it’s just a matter of time before Nick gets back together with her. Can someone who’s barely able to boil water keep Nick’s interest? What do we have in common other than I love to eat and he enjoys cooking?
The feeling that I don’t measure up slams into me in full force. My clothing didn’t impress his mother. Nothing I own has a designer label. She hauls around pricey luggage that costs more than my car. She’d probably faint at my lack of cooking skills. There’s definitely a chemistry between Nick and I, but is that all there is?
***
When my ride arrives, I’m determined to enjoy Nick’s company, so I glue a smile on my face. It slips slightly when his mom is occupying the passenger seat, and I have to climb in back. I know that it would have been weird for her to ride in the backseat on the way over, but I immediately get the sense that I’m a third wheel again.
“Good morning!” I say in my cheeriest voice.
Nick gives me one of his knee-weakening smiles while his mom only manages a half-wave. I need to figure out how to win her over.
“How was the B & B experience?” Nick asks while he pulls away from the inn. He’s focused on driving, so I talk to the back of his head.
“The breakfast spread was every bit as delicious as you said. I especially enjoyed the cherry turnovers.”
He chuckles. “Good to hear. Caroline is quite a character, isn’t she?”
So, he knows she looks like a friendly grandmother but is a gossipy busybody underneath? Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Wonder why he didn’t warn me?
“She loves to...talk.” I wanted to say spread rumors, but I refrain since I don’t know how close the friendship is between Nick and Caroline. Maybe she’s a close friend, based on all she knew about Erica, and he overlooks her tendency to gossip?
I decide to change the subject. “Where are we going?” I peek over the seat and both Nick and his mom are wearing blue jeans, so I feel like my casual jeans and a Henley are appropriate for this outing.
“Cold Spring has a combined farmer’s/flea market. I thought we’d start there,” Nick says.
“Ooh! I love flea markets. A lot of the furniture in my apartment are pieces I’ve refinished and originally came from our local market.”
Nick’s head nods but his mom wrinkles her nose at the mention of the flea market. “Other people’s castoffs are not my thing,” she mutters.
Trying to smooth things over, I say, “Maybe we can find some great ingredients at the farmer’s market and Chef Nick can cook for us.”
“I’d love to,” Nick replies. “The market has great fresh produce. I’m sure I’ll find inspiration for a delicious meal.”
His mom even laughs at his exuberance for produce. “Speaking of cooking, when is your restaurant’s grand opening, dear?”
“Well, we’ve got to finish the remodel first. The contractors keep finding one issue after the other. Word to the wise: don’t remodel a hundred-year-old building.” He releases a self-deprecating laugh that’s a mixture of frustration and facetiousness. Nick shared with me some of the remodeling “war stories” as he calls them, but I thought they were on the final push to finish soon. “I’m not going to think about that today. I just want to enjoy being with you beautiful ladies.”
I reach across the seat and squeeze his shoulder. He puts his hand on mine for a couple seconds, acknowledging my gesture of support. “I can’t wait to find a hidden gem at the flea market,” I enthuse. “I love bringing old, worn-out things back to life.”
“And here I thought you enjoyed taking cooking classes,” Nick teases.
Francine purses her lips like she just sucked on a lemon. Apparently old stuff is not her thing.
“How many pieces have you refurbished?” Nick asks.
I instantly warm to the topic. “My dining table, a dresser and two nightstands in my bedroom, and a coffee table. I watched a couple of YouTube videos on how to strip and refinish them.”
“Wow! I’m impressed.” Nick sounds genuinely proud of my accomplishments.
“So, I take it you’ve never been to Bethany’s apartment?” his mom says dryly. She arches her eyebrows and gives Nick a pointed look.
Why do I get the feeling this is an “I told you so” moment. Is she questioning the length of our relationship and how well we know each other?
Shifting in his seat, Nick says, “As soon as the cooking class ended, I had to come here to oversee the remodel.”
“You can come visit me anytime.” I add in an overly chipper voice.
“Nicholas is going to be busy with his grand opening. He’s not going to have time for that ,” Francine scoffs.
Womp! Womp!
That feeling of not measuring up returns in full force. His mom’s statement drips with the implication that he doesn’t have time for doing something trivial like visiting his girlfriend.
“As soon as the restaurant gets off the ground, I’ll come for a visit,” Nick says, trying to smooth things over. Our eyes lock in the rear-view mirror. He gives me an apologetic smile, but all I can muster is a weak nod.
What’s it going to take to win over his mother? I feel like the odds are stacked against this relationship with Nick. My heart sinks.