Chapter 17
Valentine’s Day would fall on a Saturday that year, which would be fun for many people, but not Maddie.
Though she almost felt like herself again, the valentine she wanted remained in California, continuing to recuperate.
Taylor had returned to the island; updates were less frequent and still didn’t suggest when Rex might be able to head east. Maddie felt bad that, despite all she had to do, she hadn’t even offered to take a day or two to help refresh the Lord James.
Now, however, it was Thursday, the day before the restaurant reopening, and Maddie decided it was time to “get over” herself, as her former students would have phrased it. So she called Francine.
“Don’t you have a bookstore opening soon?” the young woman asked when Maddie offered to volunteer.
“My dad and Kevin have everything under control. And my dad probably would love to kick me out for a bit. Now that I’m functioning fairly well again, he knows I could easily micromanage every move they’re making.
I’ve never worked in a restaurant,” she added, “but I’d love to do something. Anything. Please?”
“Truthfully, I could use your help,” Francine replied. “I can handle the kitchen—I think—but I don’t know beans about waiting tables. Except how to use an iPad and take orders. But I think the rest is harder than it looks.”
“Well, I’ve never waited tables, either, but I cleaned up the potluck tables on Cranberry Day, and my son once had a girlfriend whose family owned a luncheonette.”
Francine hooted. “Then you’re hired! We’re going to do Friday dinner, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch and dinner. Too much for you?”
“Nope. I’ll be there. What about clothes? Is there a uniform? Or a staff dress code?”
“Do you have anything black? Shirt? Pants? Skirt? Something washable?”
“I have a black dress.” She didn’t mention she’d bought it for her grandmother’s funeral, which happily hadn’t happened. Or that it was a summer dress, but she’d make it work.
“Perfect. The first reservations are for tomorrow night at six o’clock. Can you be here around three thirty, so we can go over the basics?”
“Sounds fine.”
“Wonderful. Maddie, you’ve saved the day.
I really didn’t know how we were going to manage.
And, hey, here’s an idea. We don’t close until after ten, and it’s a long drive back to Menemsha in the dark.
Why don’t you sleep upstairs in Rex’s apartment?
I’m sure he won’t mind … you’ve stayed there before, haven’t you? ”
Maddie blushed. As always, she was grateful that her light copper-colored complexion would have pretty much concealed it if Francine had been there in person. But the flash of shame remained the same. “I was there a couple of times, but I didn’t think anyone knew.”
Francine giggled. “This is an island, Maddie. And it’s off-season, when not much gets past us. The good news is we don’t get into gossip.”
“Then I won’t be embarrassed.”
“Don’t! Personally, I think it’s cool. Rex is a good guy. And … oh, girl, no wonder you’ve been preoccupied …”
“And it’s why, if I can lend a hand now, I’ll feel like I’m helping him in a small way.”
They fell silent, then Francine said, “I’m glad you called. And I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to Menemsha since right after his accident.”
“You have a family, Francine. This has been hard for you, too.”
“I guess.” She sighed into the phone. “But now that we’ve both felt sorry for ourselves and each other, I can’t thank you enough for offering to help. It’ll be an onslaught—we’re booked absolutely solid.”
“Great. A good onslaught ought to give me a final shake back to reality. So thanks back.” They said good-bye, then Maddie realized she had no idea how her father would feel when she told him he’d be dining alone with Grandma all weekend.
Her father’s response was a surprise.
“Don’t worry about me,” Stephen said when Maddie gave him the news that night after Grandma had gone to bed and Maddie stood by the refrigerator, trying to decide if she wanted a bowl of ice cream for dessert or an apple.
“Your grandmother will be at Joe’s all day.
I was thinking about asking Evelyn out to lunch.
She’s been a good friend—she helped me set up the books for the shop.
Did you know she and her late husband formed a charitable foundation for island services? ”
Maddie knew about the foundation; the surprise was that her father wanted to take Evelyn out on Valentine’s Day.
It would be nice for her, as each day the woman soldiered through a heart condition that too often threw her active life an unwanted curve ball.
Maddie also supposed that Stephen, like his daughter, deserved some fun—especially after spending so much time around his mopey daughter, not to mention Grandma, who’d taken up pacing as if it were an Olympic sport.
So she said it would be nice of him to treat Evelyn. Then she turned from the freezer, foregoing another snack, nutritious or not. Instead, she decided to pack. So she said good night to him and set out to hunt for proper waitress attire.
Several minutes later, as she stood in front of the lovely white ash armoire, Maddie discovered that her black dress was tight—the cakes and casseroles had definitely affected her dimensions.
Racing around the Lord James all weekend would provide a good start for her commitment to scale back, even if her hormones didn’t agree.
Maddie promised herself that, after the weekend, no matter what, she’d get back to running every day; her only exceptions would be cold, snow, wind, or, worst, high tide.
Continuing to rummage through her meager wardrobe, she found an old black cardigan. It was sad and tired, but the lighting in the restaurant would be romantic, which, with luck, would help mask her outfit’s cling and its age.
Next, she tossed clean undies into her suitcase, makeup, and other essentials, then she layered black jeans (also old, but they’d always felt too big) and a black turtleneck, so if she dumped food on the dress, she could wear those.
Then she added her flannel pajamas. If Rex were there, she would have packed the sexy-ish nightie she’d bought on a whim after they’d slept together the second time.
But she wouldn’t be sleeping with him that weekend.
Not wanting to sink back into a hollow of depression, she slipped on an old nightie, crawled into bed, and forced herself to get excited about the weekend.
Arriving in Edgartown earlier than planned, Maddie found Francine already hard at work.
“Got time for the tour now?” Maddie asked.
“Absolutely,” Francine answered.
They headed to the kitchen to check it out; after all, Maddie had never seen it, having only been at the address three times: once as a restaurant customer, once as an unexpected upstairs visitor who had quickly followed Rex into his bedroom, and the last time—again, only upstairs—soon after they’d been stranded on the Cape.
Ahhh, she thought, then reluctantly pushed aside the memories as Francine introduced her to Rex’s sous chef, who was busy prepping vegetables, and whose name Maddie promptly forgot.
Next, she had a quick lesson in kitchen basics, after which Francine presented her with a crisp white apron that she’d set out on a desktop next to a small stack of iPads.
“When you need another clean apron, they’re over there in the bottom drawer,” she said, pointing across the room, “in the chest next to the freezer.”
The freezer, Maddie thought. It was bigger than the one upstairs in the apartment, where Rex had kissed her the first time and melted her heart and her body. She choked back a sneaky tear as Francine continued.
“Okay, grab an iPad and let’s go into the dining room.
I’ll teach you how to take orders. You won’t have to worry about taking phone reservations because we’re booked—unless there are cancellations, but those are probably doubtful.
” She handed Maddie a menu, took one for herself, and they left the kitchen, thankfully away from the freezer, because Maddie had no time to dwell on the past, wonderful as it had been.
Friday night the Lord James was crowded with joyful couples, some with faces Maddie recognized from around the island, though she didn’t know their names.
The only diners she knew were Kevin and Taylor, who were there “to support my brother,” Taylor said, her voice more gentle than somber, as if her time with him in California had softened her. Or scared her.
Maddie would have liked to have said something kind, but she didn’t dare start a conversation about Rex, fearing she’d cave to her emotions. So she merely nodded and tapped in their orders.
When the last couple of the Friday night crowd paid for their bourbon-glazed salmon, pan-seared striper, and the chocolate torte that they’d shared that featured heart-shaped strawberries floating in thick, sweetened cream, they put on their coats, and Francine locked the door behind them.
She leaned against it, and let out a huge sigh.
“And we’ll do it again tomorrow,” she said. “Twice.”
Maddie was so tired she barely made it up the stairs to Rex’s apartment, which was freezing—she’d never thought to turn the heat up a bit when she’d arrived.
Quickly donning her nightclothes, she realized her feet were cold.
Because surely Rex wouldn’t mind if she grabbed a pair of socks, she tiptoed to his bureau, pulled out a pair, and slipped them on.
Ahhh, she thought. Much better.
Then she headed toward the bed and fell asleep before, burrowed under the covers, she could get caught in a web of worrying about him, for him, for her.
When she finally woke up Saturday morning, the room was bright, the sun reflecting off Edgartown Harbor, spritzing sparkles across the ceiling much the way they appeared upstairs in her new bookshop.
She allowed herself a peaceful smile, until she realized her feet were hot. And her phone was ringing. Loudly.