58. Your Table is Ready
FIFTY-EIGHT
Your Table is Ready
STEVE
Steve led Tara through the trees that lined Grant Street, following the path that led them to the opposite side of the park, and crossed the street to Baba’s diner.
“I’m confused. Baba’s isn’t open in the evenings.”
“Tonight it is.”
Kiro greeted them at the door, wearing black pants and a black shirt. “Good evening, Mr. Cook. Miss Bailey. Reservation for two?”
Tara met Steve’s eyes, her creased brown filled with confusion. He lifted a shoulder with a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye.
Tara smiled when Steve nodded. Kiro locked the door behind them, then held out his hand. “May I take your coats?”
He hung them up on the coat stand by the front door. “Your table’s ready for you. If you’ll follow me.”
Kiro led them to the center of his parents’ 1950s-style diner complete with the red cushioned seats and shiny chrome countertops. As they followed, Steve rested his hand on the small of Tara’s back.
The shades over the street-side windows were all drawn, leaving the cloth-covered table in the center of the room illuminated solely by the candles. Instead of Baba’s usual plain white and red-rimmed dishes, the place settings were made up of much fancier, traditional Bulgarian brown pottery. It was covered in colorful stripes emanating out from the center of the dishes in wavy, concentric circles. The plates were arranged on the square table so Tara and Steve could sit next to rather than across from each other.
Kiro pulled out the chair for Tara to sit down. When they settled in, he placed a white towel over his arm and held out a card. “Your menu for the evening.”
Tara and Steve exchanged worried glances as they struggled to make out the handwritten menu all in the Cyrillic alphabet. “Uh, Kiro?” Steve raised his brows expectantly. “We don’t read Bulgarian.”
“Oops. Sorry.” Kiro stepped out of character long enough to turn it over so the English side faced up.
“Much better.” Tara smiled. “Thank you.”
Celeste, also wearing black pants and a black shirt to match Kiro’s attire, appeared with a pitcher of ice water. “Mr. Cook.” She turned one of the glasses over and poured some water. “Miss Bailey,” she said with a grin as she poured her a glass of water as well. Once both glasses were full, Celeste disappeared behind the front counter through the door to the kitchen.
Kiro uncorked a bottle of wine, which, he explained, was from Targovishte, Bulgaria, a name that sounded beautiful with his perfect Bulgarian but much less so when Steve and Tara tried to pronounce it themselves.
He poured a small amount of the red wine into a stemless glass and offered it to Steve.
Steve tried to appear as if he knew what he was doing with a good bottle of wine. He tasted it and nodded his approval to Kiro, who poured some in both their glasses.
Once Kiro bowed out, Steve held up his glass for a toast. “Here’s to second chances.”
Tara clinked her glass against Steve’s and took a sip.
Steve reached a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. “Thank you for saying yes.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
A throat clearing ended the kiss so their first course could be served. “This is tarator , a cold cucumber soup.”
After a few minutes, Kiro brought their food to the table, described each course as he set it down. Their meal continued with the shopska salata , a salad made up of a mix of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and onions topped with red wine vinegar and olive oil dressing and cirene , or Bulgarian feta cheese. Next, Kiro brought a Bulgarian moussaka . Topped with tangy yogurt, it was a meat and potatoes variant of its Greek cousin.
While Tara and Steve enjoyed a delicious and filling meal, Kiro refilled their wine glasses and returned to the kitchen.
Tara picked up her glass of wine and giggled. “He’s taking his job as maitre d’ seriously, isn’t he?” She took a sip.
Steve breathed out a laugh. “He’s definitely throwing himself into the role.”
Steve finished chewing and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He was quiet for a long moment. “Speaking of Kiro… he said you came to the hospital to see me.”
Tara bobbed her head up and down as she chewed. “I did. I was scared you were….”
“I know.” Steve tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He told me I should have let you come back. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to see you.” He swallowed and shook his head. “No. That’s not right. I did… I just… didn’t want you to see me–”
“Hurt? Vulnerable?”
Steve’s eyes shot up to hers. Tara hit the mark with that one.
“You’re allowed to not be perfect, you know.”
“I’ve never had that luxury. I’ve always had to hide it.” Steve didn’t change his expression. “All this time, I’ve been looking after or looking for my brother. I focused on that and only that because that became my mission in life. That was all I cared about. He was all I cared about. Nothing else has ever… worked out. Certainly not our parents, that’s for sure.” He paused for a sip of wine. “So even when I knew Nicky was safe…I didn’t know what to do. I fell back on what I’ve always done. Fight, be defiant, and, except for my brother, not care about anything. Or anyone. Until…you.”
“And you called me Sugar,” Tara reminisced, drawing a smile from his lips.
“That’s right. With you…” he said, weighing his words, “With you… I’m in uncharted territory. I’ve never taken time for myself. Well, maybe for an evening or two, but that’s not what I want here. I want you, Tara. And… I treated Halloween night like every other setback. I got pissed off, and I moved on.”
Steve placed his hand over Tara’s. “That wasn’t fair to you.” Her eyes bore straight into his heart. “I tried to forget the hope I had for us, and I tried to move on. Only I couldn’t forget, and I didn’t want to move on from you. I was wrong. You’re not a mission.”
He caressed her cheek. “You’re that previously unattainable dream that just dropped into my life out of nowhere. I just… didn’t know what to do with it. With you. I don’t even know if I deserve you.”
“Steve…”
“But I want to.”
They stared into each other's eyes for a long minute.
“Look. I’m not always a nice man. I have plenty of faults. You’ve seen them already, and I’m sure you’ll see more. But my word is good. If I make a promise to you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep it. I won’t stray.”
Tara opened her mouth to speak but didn’t get a word out before Steve grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips against hers.
She pulled back, causing butterflies to take flight in Steve’s stomach.
“Steve, you have to know I’m going back to Chicago. I can’t stay here.”
“I know. But…” he caressed her cheek again. “I’ll take whatever time we have.” He leaned in to kiss her again.
Tara reached her hand up to his cheek as they deepened the kiss. Steve’s lips blended perfectly with hers, sending heat down his spine along with sparking a desire to move their date to a more private location.
Steve rested his forehead against hers when they came up for air, both with giddy smiles.
Steve kissed her again before getting lost in her eyes. It only took them another moment to realize someone was standing next to their table. Their foreheads still touching, they turned their heads just enough to see Kiro standing by the table with a goofy grin on his face. He held a tray of pumpkin-filled pastries.
“Did it work, baby?” Celeste called out to Kiro. She stood next to Kiro’s mom, who’d stepped out from the kitchen where she’d worked as the chef for the evening. They both peeked around the counter to get a better view of Tara and Steve.
Kiro responded without taking his eyes off Steve and Tara. “It worked, mila !”
Celeste squealed in the background as Tara and Steve asked for their pastries to go.