TUESDAY MORNING, as soon as the kids were safely at school and she had things under control at the bistro, Margo made her phone calls. The first was to book an appointment with Peter’s doctor. The office was able to squeeze them in for later that afternoon. Margo contacted the school to let them know she’d be picking Peter up early, then she called Tom. He agreed to meet her and Peter at the doctor’s office.
“I have a meeting that’s going to run late on Wednesday,” Tom said. “Is it all right with you if I take the kids tonight, instead? Peter can come home with me after the appointment and Catherine will pick up Ellie from school.”
“That’s fine.” Margo spent the rest of the day in a mad rush. She had to leave Em to handle things on her own for several hours in order to get Peter to the two o’clock appointment.
When they arrived at the office waiting room, Tom was already there, typing messages into his BlackBerry as he waited impatiently. He did stop working to give Peter a hug, but Margo was chilled by the look in his eyes when he glanced her way.
Fifteen minutes later they were invited into one of the examining rooms. Margo’s stomach roiled as she recalled the anxiety and fear of their previous doctor’s trip. Just one month ago, Peter had been an average, healthy little seven-year-old.
What had happened to change that? Why had his pancreas suddenly stopped producing insulin? She wished someone could give her an answer. The specialists at the hospital had said that no one knew why some children developed type I diabetes, but she wished she could be certain that she wasn’t somehow at fault. Had she fed him too many of her homemade sweets? Was that the problem?
The visit ended up being a full hour and a half, as they talked to the doctor, then took Peter for more urine and blood tests. He was so brave about getting a needle now, in contrast to just a few weeks ago. He didn’t even ask Margo to hold his hand this time, so she remained seated next to Tom.
Her ex sat leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of him, his head bowed. “I can’t believe this is happening to Peter.”
“I know.”
He shot her a glance, again laced with disapproval, and she felt a flare of anger. If they’d been alone, she would have said something, but instead she could only silently fume.
Did Tom really think this was her fault? Didn’t he appreciate that this was as hard on her as it was on him?
When the tests were finished, the doctor wanted to speak with them again. He had a few minor modifications to Peter’s medical treatment, but mostly he just advised them to be careful to feed Peter an extra snack before exercise and to ensure that he always ate his meals on schedule.
His words hit Margo hard and her anger at Tom evaporated. She realized her ex had been right to blame her. If she’d been with the children, instead of downstairs working at the bistro and if she’d prepared dinner on time, none of this would have happened.
Poor Ellie had been blaming herself all this time, when really it was Margo’s fault.
Later, as they all emerged from the building, Tom touched her arm. “We need to talk.”
She knew he was right, but she was anxious to relieve Em at the bistro. “How about later tonight?”
“Now would be better.”
“I’m sorry, I need to get back to work.”
Tom looked annoyed, but after a moment, he nodded. “Okay, Peter, come with Dad.”
Margo gave her son a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow after school, okay?”
Peter nodded, an old hat now at the routine of switching between his mother’s house and his father’s. For a while Margo stood and watched them walk away from her. She felt the old tug of loss and longing…and willed it away. Peter needed his father and she had to learn to let him go.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE BISTRO WAS A MESS when Margo finally returned. Dirty dishes were strewn over tables and the counter. The garbage was overflowing. Even the La Marzocco was in desperate need of a wipe-down.
Though business seemed to be in a momentary lull, Em was slouched on a stool, drinking a coffee when Margo walked in. She looked totally beat.
“Oh, Em. You’ve obviously been super busy. I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I’ll just grab an apron then be right out.” Margo hurried to the kitchen, where she pulled a clean apron from the shelf. She slipped the strap over her neck, tying the belt as she hustled back to the counter.
“How are our supplies? Are we running out of anything?” She squirted soap onto a cloth, then began washing down the espresso machine. After a few moments, she realized Em still hadn’t said a word.
Margo stopped cleaning and narrowed her eyes at the other woman. “Are you okay?”
Em slid off the stool to lean against the counter. Her dark hair spilled from the bun that had been so tight and neat at the beginning of her shift. Margo noticed she was no longer wearing her apron. It was balled in her hands.
“Would you like to leave a little early today? By all means…”
Em shook her head.
Not only wasn’t she talking, but she wasn’t making eye contact, either. Margo felt her stomach shrink into a tight, hard ball. She’d been prepared to lose Edward. In the back of her mind, she had a tentative game plan in place for how to deal with that crisis.
But Em?
Losing Em was unthinkable.
“You’ve been run off your feet lately. You deserve a raise.”
Em sighed. “You can’t afford that, Margo.”
Margo turned back to Em. “Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about what I can afford?”
“I read the letter from the bank that you left next to the phone.”
Margo sucked in a breath. She should have been more careful with that letter. Still, she was surprised that Em would have read it. Was it too late for damage control?
“Yes, there have been issues with the bank,” she admitted. “But I have the situation under control. This weekend I’m going to prepare my new business plan. Robert’s made some great suggestions for how I can improve profitability. All I need is a little time—”
“I wish I could stay and help you buy that time. But I can’t go on working with this amount of stress.”
“I admit that lately—”
“It’s not just lately. It’s been crazy since I started. Margo, you’re a great person, but your life is just one crisis after another. I keep thinking things will settle down, but they never do.”
She was right. Dammit, Em was right. “Maybe if I hire—”
“I hate to be a wet blanket, but we’re back to the same problem. You can’t afford to hire extra help. I’m terribly sorry. I enjoy working with you and I wish things had worked out differently, but I’m afraid I have to quit.”
Quit.
The word sounded cold and hard and horribly final. Margo wanted to cry and beg and plead. But there were tears in Em’s eyes. This wasn’t easy for her, either. So instead of trying to change Em’s mind, Margo held out her arms.
Em was the first to break out of the hug. “I hope you manage to save the bistro. I really do.”
So did Margo. “How much notice can you give me?”
“I do have another job lined up, but I can stay for one more week if you like.”
Another week. She’d never hire a replacement in that amount of time. But Margo felt too dispirited to argue. “A week will be fine. And why don’t you go ahead and leave for the day now. It’s quiet. I can handle things on my own until Sandy and Edward show up. Here, I’ll take your apron.”
Em took her up on the offer and passed over the apron, then grabbed her purse from under the counter. Once she was gone, Margo carried the apron to the back where she tossed it, and the rest of the dirty linen, into the washing machine down the hall. She was just closing the lid when she heard a man’s voice calling her name.
She had a wild hope that it was Robert, but when he called a second time she knew better.
It was Tom.
AS ROBERT HANDED over his plastic to pay for th
e new suit, he thought of Margo. He’d been thinking about her all day. And about Peter…and Ellie, too.
He wanted to know how Peter’s doctor’s appointment had gone and whether Ellie had been able to get to sleep last night. Mostly he wanted to see Margo’s face light up at the sight of him, the way it had last night.
“Thank you, sir,” the sales clerk said, once he’d signed the Visa form. “We’ll give you a call when the alterations are finished.”
“Great.” He pocketed his wallet, then pulled out the BlackBerry. As soon as he was out of the store, he hit the speed dial for Margo’s Bistro, about the fifth time he’d tried today. Again, no answer. He tried not to feel impatient, but he really needed to hear the sound of her voice.
And to tell her what he’d just realized himself…he was in love.
He was wildly, crazily in love with the sweetest, most adorable woman he’d ever met. And now that he had a job, he was finally in a position to help her. With the salary he’d be pulling in, he could become a silent partner in her business. An infusion of cash was exactly what the Bistro needed.
Excited by the idea, he tried to phone her one more time, again with no luck. Dammit, where was that woman?
TOM WALKED THROUGH the bistro right up to the counter until he found her.
“What are you doing here, Tom? Did something happen to Peter?” Margo put the box of detergent back on the shelf, then dusted off her hands.
“He’s fine. The kids are with Catherine. I told you I wanted to talk.”
He looked pretty serious. After the day she’d had, a hot bath and a glass of wine were what she needed. Not an intense conversation with her ex-husband.
“Well, I can’t talk to you until the next shift arrives at five.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait. Any chance I could get a coffee?”
It wasn’t like Tom to be accommodating. It especially wasn’t like Tom to be willing to sit around and wait. Full of trepidation, Margo served her ex his coffee, then set to work cleaning tables and running the dishwasher. Soon customers began trickling in again, and business was brisk by the time Sandy arrived.
“Let me know if Edward doesn’t show up soon,” Margo told Sandy, as she silently prayed that he wouldn’t choose tonight to be late or, worse yet, not to show at all.
“Tom?” She went to his table. During the time he’d been waiting, she’d been aware of his frowns, sniffs and sighs. Now she dreaded finding out what was behind all of that. “Why don’t we go upstairs for our talk?”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
She led the way, her stomach in rebellion as she walked down the familiar hall. At the front door she pulled out her key, but found it was unnecessary.
“That’s strange.” She twisted the knob. “It’s open. But I remember locking it this morning.” She shot a glance at Tom, who read her alarm correctly.
“Do you think someone’s broken in?”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“No damage to the door,” Tom noted. “And I can’t hear anyone inside. But just to be sure I should call the police.”
Smart plan. But suddenly Margo remembered the dog. Usually he rushed to the front door as soon as he heard their footsteps in the hall. “Boy? Are you there, Boy?”
Nothing.
In alarm, she opened the door. Tom held out a hand to stop her, but she rushed past him into the apartment. At first glance everything was as she had left it that morning. Except for Boy, who wasn’t anywhere to be found.
“Margo, are you crazy? A criminal could be hiding in here.”
“The dog is missing. I have to find him.” Oh, the kids were going to be so upset if Boy had been hurt or was lost. Margo examined the inside of the front door. She could see scratch marks in the paint. As she was kneeling to inspect the damage, the door down the hall opened and her closest neighbor stepped out.
Mrs. Philips was a retired nurse in her seventies. Usually they got along well. They watered plants for each other when they went on holidays and exchanged mail when the letter carrier got things in the wrong slot.
“Margo? I’m sorry about your dog. He was crying and barking for about an hour this afternoon and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I used your key and went to check on him.”
“I’m sorry he disturbed you.”
“Well, I personally don’t think pets should be allowed in this building. But regardless, I do feel badly that I let him out. I was just hoping to calm him down. But the second I cracked open the door, he shot down the hall. I guess someone was moving in and our front security door was propped open. I’ve been out on the street trying to find him, but he’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“When did this happen?”
“A few hours ago. I did go down to the bistro to tell you, but you weren’t there and the poor woman behind the counter looked so frazzled I didn’t dare disturb her. Customers were practically lined up out the door.”
Margo slumped against the wall. Boy was out on the street again. She prayed someone kind would find him. She’d have to make up posters… Maybe she could try canvassing some of the closer businesses and residents.
Suddenly she realized her head was aching, as well as her stomach. “Tom, can we possibly talk later? I need to find our dog.”
Unbelievably, Tom balked. “This will only take ten minutes. Let me say what I need to say.”
She wanted to argue, but if Boy had been missing for hours, ten more minutes wouldn’t change much. “Fine.”
She ushered him to the family room, then settled in the chair across from his. “Well?”
“This isn’t working out, Margo.”
She tensed. “Oh?”
“Look, I know you love the kids and you’re a good mother at heart. But this restaurant of yours is taking all your time and energy. It was okay when the kids were healthy. But now that Peter’s sick, it’s just too risky. He needs better supervision. A routine and regular meals.”
She felt as if she’d been submerged under water. Tom was talking, but there was a roaring in her ears and tears sprang to her eyes. She wanted to argue, to fight back and defend herself.
But he was right and so was Em. Her life was one crisis after the other. How had she let things spiral so out of control? She’d let Peter down and Ellie, too. She’d tried to juggle it all, and she’d failed.
And now her son was sick, her best employee had quit and the dog was lost.
“Hey, Margo, I didn’t come here to blame you. I want to help. I know it’s hard work to start a new business, and I never made a secret of my reservations. But if you really want to make a go of it, maybe the kids should start spending more time with me.”
Margo felt herself going under again. Disoriented, lost, desperate for air. She’d been expecting him to ask her to give up the bistro. Not her children.
The roaring subsided and she heard Tom say, “Catherine only works part-time. She could drive the kids to and from school. And she’d be there with them when they were home.”
If Margo had had one negative thing to say about Catherine, she would have said it right then. But there was nothing. Dammit, she liked Catherine. Catherine was practically perfect. Unlike her.
“Just think, if you had a month or so when you could focus completely on your business—”
“You mean not see the kids at all?”
“Of course not. They’d come to your place Wednesday nights and alternate weekends.”
Margo felt tears slipping down her cheeks. Ellie and Peter. She needed to be with them. Needed to tuck them in at night. Needed to do their laundry and laugh at their jokes and be the one they turned to—
Only this wasn’t about what she needed.
Tom was right. She had to think of them.
She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. Focus, Margo, focus. Robert believed she could save the bistro if she implemented all of his recommendations. With more time she could write up a new business plan and convince the bank to
extend her financing.
Once she had the bistro running profitably, she would be able to hire more help. Spend fewer hours on the floor and more with the kids. Then they would move back home and everything would be so much better.
If only she could live without them for a while.
Could she?
Could they?
Margo took a deep breath. “A week, Tom. They can stay with you for a week.”
He looked at her doubtfully. “That won’t be enough time for you to get your life organized.”
“Yes, it will.”
It had to be.
ONCE TOM WAS GONE Margo was tempted to give in to the tears that she’d been fighting. But she was afraid that if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
And there was simply too much she had to do right now.
She had to hire someone new for the bistro. Find Boy. Prepare the business plan. Pay the bills.
Pack a suitcase for Peter and Ellie.
Despite her efforts, she felt fresh tears sting her eyes. The kids had lots of clothes and toys at their father’s place, but there were some favorite things she knew they would want if they wouldn’t be home for a week. She’d promised Tom she’d bring their things to his house later that night. In turn, Tom had agreed to wait to talk to them about the change in plans until she was there to do it with him.
First, she called downstairs and asked Sandy to keep an eye out for the dog. Sandy promised she would get Edward to check the neighborhood, too. “He might as well do that,” Sandy said, “since he doesn’t do much else around here.”
Margo made no comment, but she knew Sandy was right, and that she had more employee troubles waiting around the corner.
Once that had been organized, Margo went to Ellie’s room and began gathering the clothes and books she guessed her daughter would want. Adding each item to the suitcase was torture. Despite the fact that the separation was only temporary, only for a week, Margo felt as if her kids were being torn from her.
Love And The Single Mom (Singles.... With Kids #1) Page 15
