Chapter 16
JIYA
During the weeks of the renovations, I worked tirelessly to make sure everything was perfect.
Every detail of the restaurant felt personal to me, as though each decision carried the weight of my future on its shoulders.
Despite the constant activity around the project, having a stranger living in my house troubled me.
Geeta had done nothing to make me distrust her. She cooked, cleaned, and quietly kept the house running in ways that made my already overwhelming days a little easier.
Still, the unease lingered.
I checked the cameras constantly.
Sometimes I told myself it was just a habit, but deep down I knew the fear had never truly left me since the days when Jeremy had posed a threat to my life. Back then, checking the security cameras had become second nature as I searched every shadow for danger.
Now the same instinct followed me here.
Even though Geeta seemed gentle and kind, I was not yet ready to leave Lucas alone with her. Trust had to be earned slowly, and my past had taught me that safety could never be taken for granted.
A few days after she came into my life, I walked into the nursery and found her packing her small bag.
“Where are you going?” I asked, surprised.
She looked up immediately. “Didi, I here almost four days. Too long. You drop me to shelter. I no burden on you.”
“You are not a burden,” I replied softly. “Have you spoken to your cousin?”
Geeta lowered her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “My cousin no picking up phone anymore.”
A wave of sadness washed over me. She had come to this country hoping to work honestly and support her family, only to be beaten, abandoned, and left alone. Her cousin had been her last hope, and now even that connection had disappeared.
“Why don’t you stay here and help me?” I suggested gently. “I could really use your help with Lucas.”
Guilt had always followed me when it came to my son. The restaurant consumed so much of my time that some days I picked him up from school and brought him straight there, and other days I left him with a neighbour until late at night, sometimes past his bedtime.
When Geeta accepted the offer, her relief was immediate. Still, a small part of me remained cautious.
The next afternoon, I decided to test things.
After dropping Lucas at home, I stayed in the driveway and watched through the security cameras on my phone.
Geeta greeted him warmly, helped him with his homework, and prepared a snack while Oreo hovered nearby like a furry bodyguard.
Lucas laughed easily in her presence, and slowly, the tension inside me began to ease.
From that day forward, Geeta waited for Lucas after school. Each afternoon, I checked the cameras, and each day I trusted her a little more, until eventually I realized something unexpected.
Geeta was not just helping me.
She was becoming part of our lives.
Every night before going to bed, I counted my blessings—Lucas, Baby Emma, Elle and her family, Jack and Maureen, the restaurant, and, whether I wanted to admit it or not, Caleb.
As the weeks passed and my due date crept closer, Jack became a blessing in my life.
He never made a big show of helping. Instead, he quietly stepped in whenever he sensed I was becoming overwhelmed.
Some days, he picked Lucas up from school.
Other days, he insisted I take breaks when I was pushing myself too hard at the restaurant.
He even reminded me about my doctor’s appointments.
I had never known my real father. Yet the way Jack looked out for me felt similar to what I imagined a father might do for his daughter.
In my heart, I silently thanked him for stepping into that role.
Nighttime, however, remained the hardest part of the day.
When the house grew quiet and Lucas had fallen asleep, my mind refused to rest. Restless energy crawled through my body like electricity while my thoughts spiralled endlessly.
What would my life look like once the baby arrived? Would I be able to manage everything? The house. Lucas. A newborn. And the restaurant. Would I be able to give both of my children the attention they deserved? Would Lucas feel forgotten once the baby arrived?
As I lay in bed stroking my belly, I wondered if my daughter was alright inside me. Would she look like Caleb? Would she inherit his mannerisms, his expressions, the quiet intensity in his eyes?
Then my thoughts drifted to the birth itself.
What if something went wrong? What if she was not positioned properly? What if the cord wrapped around her neck? So many things had already gone wrong in my life. I did not want to take good outcomes for granted.
Eventually, a silent prayer calmed my racing mind just enough for me to drift into a few hours of restless sleep.
The grand opening of the restaurant finally arrived.
Of course, not without one final problem.
The POS system stopped working.
Marcus and I spent most of the day on the phone with IT, trying to solve the issue before the doors opened.
Finally, with Marcus, Delia, the renovation crew, and the entire restaurant staff gathered outside, Jack and I stood together holding a large pair of scissors.
We cut the red ribbon.
Applause and cheers erupted around us.
The new restaurant sign hung proudly above the entrance: a cheerful black-and-white cow holding a frothy beer mug.
The Tipsy Cow was officially open.
Then I noticed him.
Cole.
He had surprised Jack and me by showing up for the ceremony. Apparently, the detox centre had permitted him to leave for a few hours.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said. “Do you think I could take some pictures?”
“Of course,” I replied.
I could not help staring at him.
He looked completely different.
The man standing across the room barely resembled the version of him I remembered.
His once long, tangled hair had been replaced with a clean mid-fade haircut that gave his face a sharper, more polished look.
His beard was neatly trimmed, accentuating the strong line of his jaw and drawing attention to the quiet confidence in the way he carried himself.
His blue eyes were clear and bright, like the ocean on a calm day.
He looked healthy.
Stronger.
More confident.
And irrefutably handsome.
I realized I had been staring longer than I should have, but for some reason, I couldn’t look away immediately. His face seemed familiar, as though I had seen him somewhere before. A faint sense of recognition tugged at the edges of my memory.
Perhaps at the hotel in Vancouver. Perhaps at a party. The thought flickered through my mind briefly before the rush of the opening pulled my attention away.
Inside, the transformation of the restaurant left everyone speechless.
A six-foot Christmas tree decorated in gold and red ornaments welcomed guests inside.
The pool tables had been moved toward the front, where diners could enjoy the waterfront view.
The old chairs had been reupholstered in rich teal fabric.
Behind the bar, a beautiful mosaic backsplash displayed rows of neatly arranged bottles.
Most of the décor had been salvaged, which helped keep costs down while preserving the character of the place.
Red and midnight blue accents brightened the black-and-white theme of the restaurant.
Recycled milk bottles hung from the ceiling as quirky light fixtures.
The outside seating area had decorative resin panel lights clustered together to create a cozy, intimate, and romantic atmosphere.
I stood there for a moment, admiring the soft glow they cast over the enclosed patio.
Since it was winter, Delia’s clever idea to enclose the outdoor area had made it possible for diners to still enjoy the space despite the cold.
The panels could easily slide back into the hidden storage doors along the restaurant’s sides during the summer months, opening the entire area to the warm ocean breeze.
I imagined the place months from now filled with sunlight and laughter, and the thought filled me with a sense of pride.
After thanking Delia, Marcus, and the rest of the team for all their hard work, Jack and I watched them gather their things and leave.
The renovation crew had been here day and night for weeks, and seeing them walk away felt strangely emotional.
The restaurant staff and I returned inside, standing together in the freshly renovated space as we waited eagerly for our first customers to walk through the door.
Marcus’s marketing strategy had been thorough and ambitious.
Flyers had been distributed across nearby towns, online messages had circulated through social media, and advertisements had aired on both the radio and television.
Because of that effort, people from different towns now knew that the Tipsy Cow was opening its doors.
The staff wore their brand-new white T-shirts with the Tipsy Cow logo printed proudly across the front, and their black aprons were tied neatly around their waists, matching the logo perfectly.
The tension in the room stretched tight, like a rope ready to snap, as we waited.
And waited.
I found myself staring at the door, silently willing someone to walk through it as unease took root deep within me. I wondered if all the work put in had been for nothing.
Then, just as my hope began to fade, the first customers walked in.
Relief rushed through me so strongly that I almost laughed out loud.
Before I even realized what was happening, more people began arriving.
Within minutes, the tables filled up, the barstools were no longer vacant, and the restaurant buzzed with energy.
The sound of conversations and laughter echoed through the room.
University students claimed the pool tables almost immediately and began ordering drinks at the bar.
Standing there watching it all unfold felt surreal.
I noticed Cole moving through the restaurant with his camera, capturing moments from the grand opening. I was genuinely happy that he had come. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several waitresses glancing at him repeatedly, their eyelashes fluttering as they tried to get his attention.
“Would you like something to drink?” one of the girls asked, touching his arm and smiling widely at him.
Cole politely declined and continued taking photographs.
After a couple of hours, he approached Jack and me, wished us luck, and said goodbye before leaving. I felt a small pang of disappointment because I had not had the chance to properly talk to him or spend time with him. The restaurant had been far too busy for that.
The night moved faster than I could have imagined.
It became so busy that we did not close the restaurant midway the way Jack had originally planned.
The evening shift arrived and took over while the daytime staff headed home.
The restaurant remained open until midnight when the last customers finally left.
Jack had stepped behind the bar to help the staff, and I saw him genuinely enjoying himself.
I stood quietly for a moment and looked around the restaurant.
All the sleepless nights.
All the exhausting days.
All the sacrifices and time I had stolen away from Lucas.
It had all been worth it.
This was only the beginning, but deep inside I prayed it would not also become the end. Dear God, please let it continue this way.