Chapter 1 Naomi
"Chef’s special night?" Rico asks from behind the folding table that’s heaped with purple eggplants.
"You know it, my friend. Saturdays are always best," I supply, grabbing one of the vegetables and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Perfect for that veggie stew you make," Rico says.
"Ratatouille." French dish. Not overly popular with the folks in this California desert town.
"Ah, you’re the one who went to that fancy cooking school. I don’t know them names." Rico chuckles lightheartedly.
"I’ll have three pounds."
"Sure thing." He starts hustling as I pull out my credit card from the back pocket of my jeans.
As always, the market is crowded. People are eager to be here while the spring weather allows it.
During the summer, when the heatwaves hit one after another, it’s hell being outside.
But even now, the hot wind occasionally lifts dust into the air, as if reminding us all that we’re at the nature's mercy in this tiny town at the bottom of the San Jacinto mountains.
"Ready to go." Rico finishes packing my eggplants and carefully places them in my wagon cart.
"Thank you." I pay and move on to the next stall to check out some of the herbs from the Morrow farm.
Soon, my cart is filled with crisp lettuce, several kinds of tomatoes, fresh basil and parsley, and other items I need for tonight’s special at Oasis.
"Naomi, honey, is that you?" a familiar voice calls my name as I reach the end of the aisle.
I turn to the sound and see the plump sales lady who always gave me free samples of her dried fruits when I was a teenager.
I wave a hand. "In the flesh. Still a sucker for fresh produce, as you can see, Mrs. Kovacs."
"Well, I’ll be darned." She beams, shaking her head in disbelief. "I heard you were back a while ago."
"Five years."
"That new place at the casino is yours?"
"Oasis. Yes."
"New York not to your liking?"
"Too cold," I admit. But that’s not the only reason I left a Michelin star restaurant catering to celebs of all sorts, from politicians to actors and models. Only, I don’t go around telling people about my disillusionment with life in the big city.
Or about my giving up. I don’t want to look like a failure in their eyes. "How come I never see you here?"
"Oh, honey." Mrs. Kovacs sighs. "I’m old." She gestures at a young guy helping another customer. "My nephew is the one handling the business. I just come on my good days."
"Nonsense. You’re not old. You look great." It’s a lie. It’s been seventeen years since I last saw the woman. She’s aged. She must be in her sixties now.
"Ah, don’t flatter me, girl." Mrs. Kovacs laughs.
"You know me. I’m pretty straightforward," I reply with a smile, then add, "It’s good to see you."
"Ah. Same here."
She drops a small bag of dried plums into my pile on the cart. "On the house."
"You don’t have to."
"My treat. For old time’s sake."
"Thanks."
She presses her lips together, the smile lingering in her eyes. "We sure missed you around here."
"I missed it too." And this time, it’s the truth. I loved traveling, but being back in Sageview Ridge is like putting on an old sweater I forgot how much I loved.
"How’s your father doing?" she asks, her voice dropping as she reads the answer on my face.
I exhale slowly, glancing at the horizon. "Not much has changed. He’s…not getting any better."
She reaches out and squeezes my arm. "I heard. I’m so sorry, Naomi. Two years is a long time to wait."
"It is." I try to swallow the knot in my throat. "But we’ll have to let him go. It’s what he would want." We’ve been living in this limbo for too long, watching my father fade away.
"I can’t imagine," she says softly. "Jose’s such a good man."
"Thank you."
She lets go of me, and there’s a moment where the world is just the sound of voices and rustling bags. Then she looks at me as if she’s deciding something.
"That Brady kid’s back in town too."
My pulse stutters. "Oh." I try to mask my surprise. "I didn’t know."
"How’s that? I figured you would with how close you two were in high school." She raises her eyebrows like she knows everything I’ve tried to forget. "You and Ty were always the talk of the town. Everyone thought you’d get married."
"Well…" My hands are shaking all of a sudden, and I have to grab on to my cart to make sure no one sees it. "Things didn’t work out."
Mrs. Kovacs studies me like she’s not buying it. "You two don’t keep in touch?"
"No. Not really." Unless those two drunk dials in the past seventeen years count.
"Ah, what a shame."
"Life happens," I say more flippantly than I mean to. The laugh I tack on feels thin and fake.
"It’s never too late, you know," she adds too casually.
"Sometimes it is too late." I don’t wait for her reply. "I have to run, Mrs. Kovacs. Before all this"—I gesture at my cart—"turns into compost."
"Oh, sure thing. Tell your mom I said hello."
"Will do."
"Take care of yourself, Naomi," she says as I push my cart forward.
My mind's filled with the image of him, vivid and uninvited. Messy brown hair with blond highlights. The piercing in his right ear. The occasional dimple. Blue eyes that could both freeze and melt me all at once. That one tattoo on his arm. Of my name.
It’s been seventeen years, and the thought of him still presses against my heart like a bruise that won’t fade. Seventeen years since he left me without a word after promising so much.
I reach the edge of the market and glance back at the bustle behind me. The voices are a murmur now, soft and far away. I toss the bags into the trunk of my white Subaru, then get behind the wheel.
My heartbeat is loud and fast, and no matter how hard I try to block out his damn face, I can’t.
I hope we don’t cross paths while he’s in town.
Because if we do, I will destroy him.
Just like he destroyed me all those years ago.