by Lisa Hughey
“What do you need from us?” her mother asked.
“Your support.”
“Is that all you want?” Her father raised his eyebrows, knowing that she had more on her mind.
Tracy thought about what she really wanted. To return to Vermont. But that wasn’t possible.
“No. But it’s a start.”
18
Colt
Colt was devastated that Cee-Cee was gone.
He wandered aimlessly around his cabin, thinking up dishes she might like.
He saw an article about strides in gluten-free baking and wanted to talk with her about it. He’d waffled about a little surprise for Chuck and Lottie and wished for her input. He kept finding things he wanted to run past her, business things, couple-y things.
But she was gone.
He see-sawed between anger and anguish. He was a fool to push her away.
Except…he still wasn’t sure that he could handle being in the public eye again. He’d seen her father’s press conference the other day. She’d been by his side looking amazing.
He’d soaked up how she looked pausing the television to stare at her and see any nuances. She appeared to be a little puffy around her eyes, but maybe he was the only one who noticed.
What he didn’t do was reach for the bottle.
He’d been a bear to be around, and he didn’t even live with anyone.
He’d spent one night at the Speakeasy moping. Phoebe had commented on his more dour than usual demeanor.
Grace sang a song about love lost that sounded like she was singing just to him.
Matteo had given him a sympathetic look. “Pretty surprising, huh?”
“Yeah.” But he’d known her secret was big. The onus was on him as well. He hadn’t pushed. Wanting her to keep her privacy. So could he really be upset with her?
Everything reminded him of Cee-Cee, Tracy, what he’d lost.
He’d stopped going to the Speakeasy so he’d missed the big to do. Apparently Sam Tremblay and Phoebe had declared their love for each other in front of a crowd. The whole thing was all over social media. Colt was happy for his old friend. But the way they looked at each other, because of course, he’d watched the video, made him miss Cee-Cee even more. And he’d thought she would have loved the public spectacle of it all.
The only constant over the past week was his cooking.
He cooked nonstop as if he were on fire. His brain was constantly bombarded with new ideas and flavor combinations. With every dish, he wondered what Cee-Cee, Tracy, would think. And he wished he could get over himself and just call her.
But that would have to wait for another day. He had a fiftieth anniversary party to get ready for.
The Speakeasy staff had taken care of the decorations. Chuck and Lottie hadn’t arrived yet, but Colt found himself standing in the middle of the upstairs event room and studying the effect. Everything reminded him of Cee-Cee. Tracy, he corrected.
He was sorry she wasn’t here to see it.
Crisp white linen tablecloths with centerpieces of white hydrangea flowers in Ball jars spray-painted in gold were simple and cost-effective yet elegant. Mylar heart balloons with Happy 50th Anniversary on them in bunches were tied to the ends of the cake table and the small table up front for the happy couple.
Gold, white, and translucent balloons formed an arch over the gift table, which was scattered with pictures of Chuck and Lottie throughout their life starting with a Polaroid of them on their wedding day looking just as thrilled as they did last week when they’d finalized the menu.
He wanted Chuck and Lottie to be happy with their party, but the success felt hollow without Cee-Cee, Tracy, there to celebrate with him.
Colt had spent the day prepping and cooking. He’d used the kitchen on the second floor next to the event space. The kitchen staff had followed his prep instructions easily.
One of the newer staff had messed up. Instead of yelling, he’d patiently explained how he wanted the vegetables chopped and why, and life went on.
No one but him realized that it was a pivotal moment. Cee-Cee. He stopped. Not Cee-Cee. Tracy would have known but she wasn’t here.
Back in the old days he would have lost his shit and berated the young chef. But his attitude had shifted. He could hear Tracy in his head talking about how the food was meant to be enjoyed and that people didn’t need perfection.
The mood in the kitchen was jubilant. The staff danced around each other with a coordinated grace as they chopped and prepped and readied for the anniversary party.
Chuck and Lottie arrived looking ecstatic.
Lottie wore a slim, pale pink beaded dress that hit above her knee, Colt didn’t know what the style was called—Tracy would know—Colt just knew she looked radiant. Chuck was in a tuxedo. He appeared supremely uncomfortable. He kept the jacket on for some pictures, but once he removed it, Colt noticed the tape measure hooked to his belt loop.
Their friends and family poured into the Speakeasy and flowed up the stairs. The crowd was eclectic with some attendees coming straight from the farm and still in their jeans and others dressed up as if it were a night out in Boston. They might be dressed differently but they were all happy to celebrate the enormous accomplishment of fifty years of marriage.
The servers walked around with the assortment of specialty sliders and little cups of truffle fries and white napkins with gold script, Cheers to 50 years, Lottie and Chuck.
Phoebe had offered several times to take over since the Speakeasy hadn’t hired a catering manager yet, but Colt felt extremely proprietary. Every time he dropped in to check the food and see if any tables needed topping refills, someone stopped to compliment him.
After dinner, the toasts started.
Chuck and Lottie’s kids each lifted a glass of cider. “Thank you for showing us how to sustain a loving relationship.”
“Thank you for being awesome role models.”
“Thank you for putting in the work to keep love and romance alive—even if it was embarrassing on occasion.”
The crowd laughed.
Someone started dinging their pilsner glass with a spoon, and then the clacking started, and soon everyone was chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
Chuck and Lottie leaned close and shared a conspiratorial look. They held hands and kissed each other longer than just a peck. The room erupted in cheers.
Then came the calls for them to speak. “Speak, speak!”
Someone tried to hand Colt a glass of cider. He smiled, shook his head, and grabbed a glass of water, feeling blessed to be a part of this beautiful celebration.
Chuck raised his glass. “People said we were too young. It was too fast. But when you know, you know.”
Lottie’s eyes filled with tears. She mouthed I love you at Chuck and they clinked glasses.
They twisted their arms together and tipped back their heads to drink together. The crowd cheered. “To Chuck and Lottie!”
Watching Chuck and Lottie and listening to the stories made him realized that he wanted what they had.
They’d been unbelievably young when they’d eloped.
But through fifty years they’d managed to support each other and stay in love despite the challenges, through hard work and a deep abiding respect and love for each other.
He watched them work the room separately, making sure to talk to every person there.
Lottie, flush with champagne, came over to him. “Thank you so much.” She clasped his hand and squeezed.
“My pleasure.” And it had been. The couple had been so appreciative. He’d had the chance to stretch his creative muscles. Cooking for Cee-Cee had made him realized that he had lost his joy of cooking long before he lost his restaurants.
And today, his heart was full of happiness for Chuck and Lottie.
“I was wishing Cee-Cee, um Tracy, might be here.” Lottie looked sad for a moment.
Him too. There’d been a kernel of hope that maybe she’d remember the date and show u
p. But Colt was pretty sure she wouldn’t. Her presence would distract from the main event and she would never do that to them.
“She sent us the decorations with a note so I was pretty sure she wouldn’t make it.”
Colt shouldn’t be surprised. Even from miles away she was making people happy and spreading her particular brand of joy.
“Can’t believe that the famous Tracy Thayer helped plan our little anniversary party.” Lottie seemed bemused, then shook it off. “We’ve got to make sure to take a picture and post it on Fairy Tale Endings’ Instagram account.”
Tracy’s Instagram account?
Except to watch the video of Sam and Phoebe, Colt hadn’t been on social media in over a year. He’d eschewed all forms of attention and notoriety when he’d moved to Colebury.
But he wanted what Chuck and Lottie had. He wanted the whole package. With Cee-Cee, Tracy, whatever she wanted to call herself. But he had to figure out if he could stand to be in the public eye again. “You want to take a selfie?”
Lottie blushed. “With you?”
If he truly was willing to compromise on some things, then this would be a start. He could see if he was ready to step back into the public eye and if he could bear the scrutiny.
“Sure. I’ll hold the phone since my arms are longer.” Before he could talk himself out of it, he bent to Lottie and smiled for the camera. “Congratulations again.” Colt felt a burning need to retreat to the kitchen. What if he’d just made a huge mistake?
Screw it. If he made a mistake, if he fell down, he’d just get back up again.
There was a buzz in the air. It wasn’t explicitly about his food, but he was still a part of it.
The message during the party, over and over, was that their marriage hadn’t been easy. They’d worked on their relationship. But it had totally been worth it.
“Make sure you get some champagne.” Lottie gestured to the long table against the wall with several rows of bottles. “Chuck went a little overboard with ordering. We’ll never go through all that.” She laughed.
Colt smiled and grabbed a bottle. “I’ll bring this to the kitchen staff.”
He stuck to water.
He had wondered how he’d do in a stressful situation. If he’d fall back on old patterns and start drinking again. But he hadn’t.
He hadn’t even been tempted.
A few days later, Colt wandered aimlessly around his cabin. He was miserable. It was too quiet here.
He’d grown accustomed to Tracy’s presence. And now that she was gone, he missed her.
Desperately.
Which was insane. He’d only known her for a few weeks. Even the Speakeasy seemed dimmer, less vibrant without her in the space.
He’d been cooking like a madman, testing recipes.
He was pretty sure that his friends were ready to kill him. They’d all commented on his frenetic food production and the fact that he’d posted a picture on social media, but everyone studiously avoided mentioning Tracy.
He’d created ten new recipes this week. He’d dropped off food every place he could think of.
Even at the Three Bears Motor Lodge.
Mrs. Beasley had smiled a thank you and winked at him. “How’s our famous resident?”
“No longer a resident.”
Her face fell. “That’s a shame. She was worth the entertainment. She called me about the crickets one morning, wanting to know if that noise was safe.” Mrs. Beasley wheezed, her wrinkled cheeks bunching up as she laughed. “But she made the whole day brighter.”
“That she did.” Colt forced the words out of tight lips. His heart ached with missing her.
“I recognized her straightaway. Surprised she decided to stay here, so I knew something was up.” She tasted the gluten-free coffee cake he’d brought. “This is delicious.”
Huh, so Mrs. Beasley had been aware of who Tracy was the whole time.
“After a few weeks, she really started to fit in around here.” Mrs. Beasley shook her head. “I tried to steer those reporters away but one slipped through.”
A creeping suspicion slithered through his mind. “Was there really something wrong with the pipes?”
She just laughed and then shoved more breakfast cake in her mouth.
Tracy
Tracy shifted restlessly on the fancy upholstered chair at the elegant upscale restaurant while she waited for her brother to arrive.
She looked around and thought Colt would hate this place. Too bland. Too generic. It was the up and coming place to eat but it had no personality. The menu was curated for minimum offensiveness with classic ingredients and recipes that hadn’t changed for a hundred years.
Everything was too noisy in the city. She missed the silence of the country. She missed being able to hear herself think.
When her friend Diego had moved from Boston to the Berkshires, she’d thought he was nuts. She knew he loved his girlfriend Penny, but move to the country? He’d done it because Penny’s farm was there. She knew he hadn’t really had a choice but she had always assumed that he missed city life even though he continued to deny it.
Now she totally understood.
With video conferencing and collaboration software, meetings could take place online. It wasn’t imperative to be in the same room as the other meeting attendees. When she’d been working remotely from the motor lodge or Colt’s cabin, she’d gotten an incredible amount of work done.
Today was the first time she’d been out of her penthouse in a week. She’d been wandering around her space, wearing her Levi’s and Speakeasy T-shirt, and working on creating the company structure for the new spin-offs. But her heart was back in Colebury.
Chuck and Lottie’s party had been the past weekend. Tracy had been so tempted to go. She hoped it had been everything that they were expecting.
She scrolled through Instagram on her phone, first checking the #speakeasy hashtag because apparently she was a glutton for punishment. Seeing the rustic interior and the pictures from happy customers just made her long to be back there. The number one post was a video of Sam and Phoebe that made her heart grow.
She moved on, checking out the posts tagged with the Fairy Tale handles, smiling at the pictures of happy couples celebrating their engagements or weddings.
Until one caught her eye.
Lottie had posted a series of pictures from the anniversary party. Tracy blinked back tears as she looked at the smiling, happy faces. She greedily soaked up the details from the party. Lottie and Chuck looked deliriously happy, all dressed up for the celebration. Platters of Colt’s food, the dishes she’d sampled for him, shots of the centerpieces which she had donated, and the gorgeous cake. The final picture was a selfie with Colt and Lottie. It was clear from the picture that he had been the one to snap it.
The lump in Tracy’s throat expanded.
He was healing.
A month ago, he was barely comfortable with her showing his hands while she photographed the soup.
She traced the lines of his face with her finger. A million times a day something came across her desk that she wanted to share with him. How could she miss him so much?
Her brother slid into the chair across from her. The table was in the front window. She was sure that was deliberate.
He looked every inch the up-and-coming politician in a navy Brooks Brothers suit with a fine pinstripe, a bright cerulean cotton dress shirt that emphasized the blue of his eyes, and a conservatively striped tie. His clothing not fancy or too expensive, he struck the right note between serious about being a politician for the people but still dressed up enough to respect the office.
“How are you doing?”
This was the first time they had seen each other in person since the whole scandal began. Fortunately, the press had moved on, Thomas had been able to focus on policy positions and meeting his potential constituents, and Esme was busy filming a reality show where she was isolated for eight weeks.
He shrugged. “I’m fine.�
�
True love was no more? “Getting over your heartbreak?”
He fiddled with his silverware, adjusting the space between the knife and spoon and the edge of the table. “Maybe I wasn’t heartbroken.”
Tracy blinked.
“I thought I needed a wife to run for office.” He looked out the window at the traffic. “She seemed perfect. Too perfect, looking back on it. She never had her own opinions. We never argued about anything.”
“Is arguing a requirement for a good relationship?” She and Colt hadn’t argued.
“Of course not.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it but it was like nothing really impacted her or made her feel. Except maybe when I said I couldn’t take her to London for the weekend to see some show. Then she was plenty pissed.”
“She didn’t share things about her family?”
Tracy wished she’d gotten to meet Colt’s sisters and brothers.
“No. She didn’t share anything.” He clasped his hands together and rested them on the white linen. “Maybe that should have been a big fat clue. She was constantly after me to share.”
She thought about the give and take between her and Colt and she was sad for Thomas. Her relationship might have been brief but it had been real and intimate and life-changing. “What’s next?”
“Definitely not ready to start dating again. I’m going to focus on my campaign.”
“Probably a good call.” Tracy was happy that her brother seemed to be recovering from the ordeal that had changed her life.
He frowned. “Why are you so sad?”
“What do you mean?”
“Normally you’d already be trying to set me up with someone new.” Thomas shook his head. “I should have realized that Fairy Tale Beginnings was you.” He grinned, his bright teeth white in his tanned face, his blond hair swept back from his face.
“Good afternoon. My name is Joy.” Their waitress stopped cold and then jerked when she saw Thomas’s face. “Can I get water for the table?” she stammered. “Perhaps a spring or sparkling?”
