Chapter 16
TOM
Tom turned the lock on the front door of Reilly’s Bakery and felt the small click settle the day at last.
It had been one of the longest days of his life, and not because anything had gone wrong.
He had started at four in the morning at the bakery, getting the breads and pastries ready before he left for the hospital.
The nursing interviews with George lasted until late morning.
There was a full afternoon behind the counter with Lila as the festival drew every visitor in town and half the visitors from beyond the bay through the bakery doors.
They’d run out of sourdough by three. They’d run out of cupcakes by five.
They’d put the closed sign up at six on the dot because there was simply nothing left to sell.
And in twenty minutes, he was taking Lila to dinner.
Tom turned to find her at the back kitchen sink, scrubbing something off her sleeve.
“Oh, no,” Lila groaned.
“What is it?” Tom asked, walking over.
“I got jam on my blouse,” Lila explained, holding the sleeve up for him to see. A small dark blob of strawberry preserve sat on the pale cotton. “I’m so sorry about this. I just need ten minutes to run home and change.”
“That’s fine,” Tom told her. “We’ve got time. I booked the table for seven thirty.”
“Great,” Lila breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be right back.”
Lila gave him a smile, grabbed her purse from under the counter, and slipped out the back door.
Tom listened to her footsteps go up the small side path and out the side gate, which led to her apartment in the building next door.
Tom glanced at what he was wearing and decided he could do with a freshening up.
He turned and took the small staircase up to his own apartment above the bakery, two at a time.
He quickly showered, shaved, and pulled on the soft blue button-down Linda had bought him last Christmas, a pair of dark blue trousers, and slid the silver wristwatch his father had left him onto his left wrist. He looked at himself in the small mirror over the dresser, and he sprayed on some deodorant, brushed his teeth, and tried hard to ignore the excitement zinging through his veins at the thought of his date.
He was picking up his keys when his phone buzzed with a message from Lila.
I’m on my way back. I’ll be there in a few minutes.
Tom smiled. He grabbed his keys and his wallet, then went back downstairs to wait for Lila.
He stepped out onto the front step of the bakery just in time to see her round the corner from her building.
She had changed into a soft cream blouse with small dark buttons down the front and a long pale skirt that brushed her ankles.
Her hair was loose around her shoulders.
She’d taken the small silver hoop earrings out and put pearl studs in instead.
She walked toward him in the slow gold of the early evening light, and Tom forgot, for a moment, what he had been about to say.
“I’m sorry I had to rush off like that,” Lila said, stopping and looking at him. “Oh, you changed, too.”
“Yes, I thought I may as well freshen up while I waited,” Tom admitted. He smiled. “Shall we?” He said and stepped aside for her to walk toward his truck.
Tom opened the passenger door of his truck for her. She climbed up and settled into the seat as Tom climbed into the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?” Lila asked as he started the engine. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the whole day.”
“The Driftwood,” Tom answered. “Down at the marina.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard that’s a great restaurant,” Lila said. “A lot of the customers talk about it.”
“Yes, I haven’t eaten there myself,” Tom admitted. “But, it comes highly recommended.”
He drove them along Bay View Drive in the easy gold of the early summer evening.
The bay glittered to their right, soft pink at the horizon line where the sun was beginning its slow tilt down.
The festival was still going on the far side, the distant sound of the bluegrass band carrying faintly across the water.
Lila had her window cracked. The warm Gulf air came in and stirred the small curls of her hair against her temple.
Tom glanced over at her.
She was looking down at the leather-bound binder in her lap, the one she had brought with her tonight.
“Is that the binder with your ideas and recipes?” Tom asked.
“Yes,” Lila said with a nod.
They arrived at the restaurant, and Tom helped her out of the truck. The host greeted them with a welcoming smile and led them to their table overlooking the bay. It was a cozy booth with a candle burning low in the center, creating a romantic atmosphere.
“Here are your menus,” the host said. “Can I take your drinks order while you wait for your server?”
Tom ordered a club soda with lemon and ice. Lila ordered a peach iced tea. The host smiled and told them their order wouldn’t be long, then let them alone.
“This is lovely,” Lila commented, glancing around.
“It is,” Tom agreed, taking in his surroundings as he opened the menu and saw the selection. “They have a good selection of dishes as well.”
Lila opened her menu and ran her eyes down it. “Oh, they have my favorite.” She looked up at him. “I love the creamy steak fettuccini.”
“That sounds delicious,” Tom said. “I think I’m going to have the catch of the day.”
“I always worry about bones,” Lila admitted. “I love fish. But I’m the one who will end up with a fillet with bones in it.” She gave a soft laugh, making Tom smile.
“Linda also never orders fish for the same reason,” Tom commented.
“That’s actually a relief to hear,” Lila stated. “Now I don’t feel like I’m a little paranoid.”
Their server arrived, introduced herself, and handed them their drinks. They gave her their food order, and she disappeared.
“Let’s hear your ideas for the bakery,” Tom said, sipping his club soda.
Lila smiled and opened the binder.
She turned to the first page and noted that the bakery needed a fresh coat of paint. Lila suggested keeping the same warm cream color they currently had. Lila estimated it would take about a weekend’s work between the two of them.
Lila wanted to take out the big oak cabinet against the back wall that held the spare cutlery and the extra plates.
It was too large for the room. It crowded the entrance.
The cutlery and plates could be moved to the storeroom, where there was plenty of empty shelf space.
Removing the cabinet would open up two more square meters of front-floor space, enough for two additional small tables for the morning coffee crowd.
Lila suggested they recover the current chairs, as they were the exact type needed for the bakery’s front.
She offered to source the fabric herself, matching it closely to the current chair fabric.
She commented that the wood underneath the chair frames was beautiful and just needed a careful cleaning and refinishing.
“Eleanor picked those chairs out,” Tom told her with a nostalgic smile.
“I know, George told me,” Lila confessed. “But they are perfect, and I can see why she chose them. Not only are they perfect for that area, but they are also good quality.” She smiled gently. “But they do need some TLC.”
Tom didn’t trust himself to speak for a moment. His mind was filled with when Eleanor had bought them and said nearly the exact same thing Lila had. His hand shook slightly as he lifted his glass to his lips.
“And the tables,” Lila continued gently.
“I have the same idea, as they are made out of the same wood, and again, they just need a bit of restoration work.” She leaned forward with her elbows on the table.
Her eyes were thoughtful. “I was thinking we should get some small linen squares in the center of the table. We can use leftover materials from the chairs so they match.” She picked up the iced tea.
“I would wash them every week, and we could perhaps have two sets that we rotate.”
“I don’t mind washing them,” Tom told her, his voice a little gruff with emotion.
Lila’s eyes met his, and she smiled with a slight nod. “We could put the small condiment trays on top of them so they don’t damage the newly refurbished table tops.”
“That’s a good idea,” Tom replied. “I’m not sure if you know this, but there are three or four more of those tables in the storage room plus matching chairs.
” He gave a soft laugh. “When Eleanor saw them at the auction, she wanted all of them as we had plans to expand the front of the bakery so more customers could sit and eat.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “That is a marvelous idea,” Lila agreed. “Why didn’t you do it?”
Tom’s heart thudded, but he kept the instant pain to his heart at bay. It was the year that Eleanor passed so suddenly. But he didn’t tell her that. “We never got around to it,” he told her.
“Did you get plans drawn up for it?” Lila asked, interested.
“Yes.” Tom nodded. “I have them somewhere.” He gave her a tight smile and glanced back at her binder, moving the subject away from the expansion. “What else have you got in there? Because so far I agree with all of your ideas, and tomorrow we can start making lists of what we need.”
“Really?” Lila’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Tom felt the tension ease as he got lost in her smile and nodded. “Yes. I think it’s time the bakery got a bit of an overhaul.”
“That’s great news,” Lila said. “I’ll leave the rest for tomorrow then, as it’s just things like better placemats for the customers who eat in. The cheap plastic ones we use now don’t do the bakery justice.”
Tom watched her, his heart swelling at how excited she was at the thought of giving the bakery a facelift that he admitted was long overdue.
“And the signboard out front,” Lila concluded, with a small wince. “I’m sorry, I know you have an attachment to it. But maybe you could retire it to storage as it really does need replacing.”