Chapter Five
Chloe
The next afternoon, I walk into my parent’s restaurant and smile. This is as much home to me as the one I grew up in on Arthur Street. While growing up, I worked alongside them, learning all aspects of running a small business.
“Hey, mom.”
My mom, Jeanne, waves from behind the cash register. “Hey, Sweetheart. How was business today?”
“It was fine. Busy as usual.” I weave through the wooden tables.
“That’s wonderful,” she sighs. “Honey. I’m so proud of you. You’re an amazing girl.’
“Mom, stop it.” I glance around the room. Although the smell of bacon still fills the air, all the tables are clean; and the only sound is the dishwasher in the adjacent kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”
“Cleaning up. He let everyone go early. Saturday night and all. ”
“He’s such a sucker.” I laugh and peek around the corner. “Hey, Dad.”
My dad steps away from the industrial dishwasher and gives me an easy smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes. “Baby Girl, What’re you doing over here?”
“Taking a break. I’ve got to get back…” I glance at my watch. “In fifteen minutes. The next round of cupcakes will be done.”
“You work too much.”
“Pot calling the kettle black.” I tilt my head and give my dad a saucy grin.
“Humph.” He waves dismissively. “Are you coming over tomorrow for dinner?”
My mom waltzes through the kitchen door and tucks the moneybag under her arm. “You should bring Jim.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Why?” She glares, making me feel like a scolded little girl who didn’t eat her green beans. “Are we not good enough for him? Are you ashamed of us?”
“Mom, that’s ridiculous. I would never be ashamed of you. You and Dad are wonderful parents. ”
“Then, what’s the deal? You’ve never brought him over.” My dad’s lips tighten.
“Well, we kind of broke up.” I’d never liked Jim enough to bring him to my parent’s house. It would have been too awkward and unnerving to have him in a space that I consider my sanctuary from the world.
“Kind of?”
“Well…” I’m not one for keeping secrets from my parents, but how am I supposed to explain Rich dumping me for Jim? That makes me sound pathetic.
“We’re waiting.” My mom taps her tennis shoe covered toe on the linoleum floor.
“Rich broke up with me for Jim.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense. What does Rich have to do with this?” My mom steps up to me and pats my arm. “But, Rich. He’s such a sweet boy. You should have dated him a long time ago.”
“Jeanne, let Chloe make her own decisions. We’ve talked about this.”
“You’ve talked about what?” I raise an eyebrow as I study my parents. What are they up to ?
“Oh, nothing, dear.” She looks at me innocently.
“You’re on your own.” My dad returns to his dishes. The overhead sprayer drowns out the noise of the dishwasher.
“Spill it.” I frown. Please, don’t be scheming with Rich’s mom. The last thing I need is for my mother and Kathy to start plotting for Rich and me to get together. No guy wants to be set up by his mom.
“Well…” She plays with the beads around her neck. “I was chatting with Kathy the other day, and we both thought it would be nice if you and Rich dated.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as my face fills with heat. Lord, if Rich finds out about this, he’s going to flip.
“Chloe, language.”
“Sorry.” But being set up on a date by my parents with my secret crush deserves a well-placed curse word. “Mom, Rich doesn’t want to date me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not his type.”
“What’s his type? ”
Big-chested. Blonde. Long-legged. Sexy. Sexually experienced. Bring on the list. So not tossing any of that out there. “Never mind. I’ll be there tomorrow for dinner.”
“Good.” She pauses for several seconds. “You didn’t say. Why did Rich break up with you for Jim?”
I hold my breath. Here we go. The Rich pep rally will soon re-ignite. “Rich and Jim were out last night, and Jim met someone more suited for him, so Rich offered to let me know.”
“Ah, how sweet. I told you Rich was a great guy. He wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt by Jim moving on to another woman. See, Rich is perfect.”
Yes, mom. He’s perfect. Just not perfect for me. I glance at the clock above the freezer door. “I’ve got to get back to my cupcakes.”
“Okay, dear. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow. Be there at noon.”
“Bye.” Great. I wave at both my parents and flee to the bakery. That went – well.