“It’s not Gene’s.”
“Bean…Wesley?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I guess you guys are more serious than I thought. How far along?” I asked.
“A couple of months. First ultrasound was last week.” She lifted her shirt to expose the nearly non-existent swell of her belly above her unbuttoned jeans. “I’m so bloated, I can’t wear any of my cute stuff. My pants don’t fit. I can’t color my hair. Food makes me wanna barf. Whoever said it got it wrong. Pregnant life blows. It doesn’t glow.”
“Is that,” I glanced down at her stomach, “why you quit working at the coffee stand?”
“No one will want to see this in the coming months.” She motioned to her frame. “Well, I take that back. There are a few creeps who want to see a pregnant chick in a G-string and pasties, but they gross me out. I mean, Cindi did it and worked right up until her water broke. Made a shit ton of tips too. So gross.” She sat down next to me on the porch swing. “There’s no way I’m serving drinks with tiger stripes that look like a road map across my stomach and thighs.”
Serving drinks. A light clicked on in my head and my eyes bulged. “And you had alcohol the other night at The Fill & Spill? And last night too?” I flicked her ear. “What were you thinking?”
She held up a hand to shield herself from me. “I didn’t drink.”
“Um. So, was it your body double holding that beer when you came back from talking on the phone?”
“It was apple juice. I’m not stupid, Blue. But I’m not ready to tell anyone about this yet, so I’m doing everything I can to hide it. Mommy especially needs to be kept in the dark. With the whole funeral thing? The whole politics thing?”
I looked at my sister and pitied her. What should’ve been an exciting series of moments in her life was being made into a time of shame and regret. She needed someone to lean against. A rock. There was no doubt Beanbag was taking on that role, but I could tell she ached for another female to be involved and sympathize with her. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be Elana considering what went down in the house. How would she take it when she found out it was really her golden child? I didn’t envy Daveigh one bit.
“So, what happens now? You stay with Beanbag?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. He’s keeps bringing up a wedding. I mean, he’s the most loyal guy I’ve ever been with. But that’s not a reason to get married. And what if he’s better off without me?”
“That’s the hormones talking. I’ve known that guy for a long time, longer than you have. He doesn’t take that kind of stuff lightly.”
“And what if he leaves like your dad left Mommy? And like you left us? That’d destroy me, Blue. I don’t want to become…” She glanced toward the house. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at me for guidance. “Maybe being alone is best, and I can save myself the pain by ending it now. What do you think?”
Her fears struck home with me in so many ways, even though our situations were worlds apart. She wanted my opinion. In turn, I wanted to shake some sense into her. I wanted to hug her and say everything would be okay. I wanted to reveal my own secrets for her to relate to. So damn bad. But I was terrified and couldn’t bring myself to do it. All I could do was ask her the one question I was too afraid to ask myself because it would break me. “How does he make you feel?”
Without hesitation, she sniffled. “I love him.”
“And what about the baby?”
“I dunno. He’s excited. It’s so annoying; he helicopters around me like I’m made of glass and I’m going to shatter if someone looks at me wrong. That’s why we’ve been arguing. The secretive phone calls. And add Mommy’s attitude on top of it all…”
I let out a slow breath through my nose. “‘Veigh, you’re an adult. You don’t need the momster’s permission to give birth. You don’t even live under her roof anymore. I’ll tell you what though—you need to tell her the truth. Before she finds out on her own. She’ll figure it out when I’m baby-free in a handful of months and you’re the size of a house.”
“I know,” she said. “I just wish…everything was different.”
I wrapped my arm around her as she rested her head on my shoulder. “You and me both, kid.”
Like every other day in Steele Falls, that one contained elements I couldn’t have predicted. For a few hours, I sat there and held my little sister while neither of us spoke a word. Our silence was the most honest conversation we’d had since I’d arrived.
* * *
Later that afternoon, I ransacked my closet, pulling out a black-and-red floral maxi skirt that grazed the floor and a fitted black camisole. Strappy sandals and a sheer kimono with crimson accents completed the look. I freshened up my makeup, a rarity in my world, and tamed my mess of curls.
Fortunately, the house was empty when I was ready to head over to Brennan Construction, which meant no further reprimand from the momster. Lucy had picked up Daveigh for dinner twenty minutes prior, and my sister was kind enough to let me borrow her car for the night.
The drive was quick, and the closer I got, the more my stomach tied itself in complicated knots. I pulled up five minutes early and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt before heading inside. The lobby was quiet, Rita, the nosy receptionist, had already left for the day.
Ty was walking by the front desk at a brisk pace with a couple of file folders as I headed toward the waiting area. “Hey, Blue. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. Last minute fire to put out. Not literally, thank goodness.” He thumbed halfway through the papers. “Go down the hall to the break room and I’ll meet you in there. Second door on the left. Bottled water’s in the fridge and the coffee’s still on. No guarantees it isn’t mud though.”
I headed down the quiet hallway, plush carpet underfoot. The music was absent, and the lights buzzed overhead. The break room was empty. I grabbed a miniature bottle of water from the fridge, cracking the lid as I absentmindedly looked at the bulletin board of notices. State laws, minimum wage posters, a suggestion box with a half-used tablet of paper, and a whiteboard of sketches caught my eye.
I wasn’t paying attention when someone walked in behind me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” the voice was masculine and annoyed.
Slowly, I turned around and saw the face I was hoping to never encounter again.
“Adam Rockwell,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”
He looked down at his dust-coated tee-shirt and mud-stained jeans. “Well, if I don’t work here, it’d be weird to walk in looking like this.”
“Sarcastic much?”
“What? Sorry. Can’t hear you.” Adam cupped his hands under the running faucet at the stainless sink and splashed water on his face.
I leaned against the fridge. “It’s like you’re stalking me or something.”
“You’re the one who walked in here. And now you have a problem with where I work? Is there a secret list of Blue-approved companies I should know about? Please, tell me where I can buy a copy for my bookshelf.”
I gritted my teeth. “It’s my uncle’s company, and you know it. The last name is a dead giveaway.”
“A lot doesn’t get past you, does it?” he asked. “So, what’s the issue, blue eyes?”
“Don’t you see the irony? And don’t call me that.”
Crystal clear droplets dripped from Adam’s chin and stubble, distracting me. He offered another hate-filled stare that he’d become an expert at. “Please. Explain the issue and tell me how it’s ironic.”
An elongated silence filled the air as both of us refused to back down. Where? Where was my uncle and why was it taking him so long to come back?
“The issue is,” I paused, “you’re working in construction. The way you act, it seems like destruction is more your speed.”
“Are you talking about wh
at happened at the bar? If memory serves right, you’re the one who spilled the beer on me, and you’re also the one who went digging up my past. Forgiving you isn’t a requirement of your sad attempt at a truce.”
I glared at him.
“And not that you give two shits about it, but a lot of companies aren’t willing to take a chance on a guy like me who—”
Just then, the door opened and Ty walked back into the room. “Great! I see you two have met. There’s some good news and some bad news. Blue Brennan, this is my project lead, Adam Rockwell. Adam, this is my niece, Blue. She might be coming to work for Brennan Construction.”
“Project…lead?” I felt the color drain from my face.
Adam’s eyes looked as if they’d pop out of his head. “Her? Work here?”
Fabulous.
“From afar. Working from way afar,” I corrected Ty.
“This is a hands-on and high-pressure company. Reliability is important,” Adam said. “Remote positions rarely work out. What makes you think you can handle it from miles away? Would you remain in contact on a consistent basis or would you slack off and disappear before your shift ends?”
“Guys.” Ty looked at each of us as if he were watching a tennis match. “I said I had good and bad news.”
I let out a deep breath, not knowing what could possibly be worse. The plague? Growing a third eye? Finding out Santa wasn’t real? “And the bad news?”
His attention turned toward Adam. “The bad news is I had an issue come up with that Gervais strip mall I’ve been working on. It means I’ll be about an hour late, but the good news is I’m sending you two over to The Oasis to get started. Discuss the project and see if it’s of interest to Blue. Tell Lyle to put it on my tab.”
Adam’s face blanched as he stumbled over his words. “What about Stephan? Shouldn’t he be there? His input would be far more—”
“Sonia has the stomach flu, and they have six-week old twins. You two can wing it until I get there. Like I said, it shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
I let out a long, audible breath and pursed my lips. Being alone in a restaurant with a guy who looked like he wanted to destroy me with every fiber of his being sounded less than appealing.
“I guess we don’t have any choice,” I mumbled. “Let’s go get this over with.”
“Finally. Something we can agree on.” Adam grabbed his jacket off a coat hook on the back of the door.
I reluctantly followed him toward the door.
Adam stopped abruptly. “Hey, Ty?”
My uncle turned around. “What’s up?”
“Why don’t we go to Mario’s instead? It’s right down the street from the office. Besides, the wait time at The Oasis is always about two years long. It makes more sense.”
I clutched the strap to my tote bag tightly. “I don’t think—”
“You don’t think what?” Adam asked.
“I don’t think the setting is suited for a business dinner. That’s all.” I huffed.
“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Ty replied, pulling his cell phone from his pocket to answer a call.
“I’m sure you have GPS and can find the restaurant on your own.” Adam smirked and headed toward the exit. “See you there, Blue.”
I closed my eyes, trying to maintain my composure.
* * *
Mario’s was a five-minute drive from Ty’s office, and I beat Adam there. I sat in Daveigh’s car for a few minutes and chewed my lip before mustering enough bravery to get out and lock the door.
“It’s one dinner,” I whispered to myself as I wiped my hands on my skirt.
Memories flitted through my mind as I walked across the parking lot. The same gravel-coated pavement with faded stall lines and giant street lamps. The same quiet street and giant bushes surrounded the small building. The same distant crash of the ocean waves.
As I approached the entrance, Adam appeared from around the side of the building where overflow parking spaces were located. He didn’t acknowledge my presence as he walked ten feet behind me.
My nostalgia of the restaurant didn’t go unnoticed, and I was sure every contradicting emotion I felt was spelled out on my face in bold Sharpie marker. I tugged on the brass door handle; it felt heavier than I remembered. A significant click gave way when I pulled harder. The wave of warmth that washed over me used to be inviting and comforting during my eight-hour shifts. It’d morphed to crushing and debilitating.
I could’ve drawn the layout from memory down to the minor details. Faded brickwork surrounded the tunnel-shaped hallway from the entrance to the hosting station. The smell of garlic, olive oil, and fresh bread filled the air, bringing back unwanted flickers of the past. I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
A wicker basket sat in the corner, displaying a graveyard of lost children’s toys. Each was heavily worn from love while they waited for their devastated owner to come back. I immediately recognized a floppy rabbit on the left; it’d been in the same spot since my last trip to Mario’s.
Antiquated license plates had been made into artwork. Their age was showcased with rusty edges while a row of vintage soda bottles jutted against the lip of a counter. Red-and-white labels were each staged perfectly, facing forward. Strings of garlic and dried chili peppers adorned the vertical support beams, giving distraction from their flaky, green paint. All of the pieces were present, completing a jigsaw puzzle of my past. It was like I’d never quit working there, reiterating time had stopped.
A young waitress walked around the corner with a bounce in her step and vibrant pink streaks in her pale blonde hair. She wore jeans and a baseball t-shirt. I wondered if the tops were still as scratchy as I remembered. Her nametag read Lyndsie in simple red font on a white background. “Two tonight?” she asked with a southern accent.
“For now, y…yes,” I said, my voice hoarse as I took in more of the surroundings.
“Y’all want a table or booth?” she asked.
“Booth,” Adam replied without hesitation.
For a moment, I’d forgotten he was there.
Lyndsie led us to a booth along a wall where fake vines of pale ivy clung to the brick, intertwining their way along the top of a makeshift cable car. Tiny lights twinkled along the top in red-and-green, their hues enriched against the dark ceiling. Chandeliers with checkered maroon-and-cream-colored glass hung from above.
“Is this okay?” Lyndsie asked.
“It’s fine,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Actually,” Adam nodded toward the next booth down, “could we sit there?”
Lyndsie gave him a questioning look.
“Lighting’s better.” Adam flashed me a fake smile and gestured to a file folder in his hand. “Work meeting.”
“Well, of course.” Lyndsie nodded. With one swoop, she gathered the menus and moved them to the next table over along with a pitcher of water before disappearing into the kitchen.
I stood, frozen. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Adam sat down on the worn cushion of the bench-style seating. “If I’m joking, Lyndsie’s not going to be very happy about the whole table switch thing. Is this a problem for you?”
“Nope.” I ground my teeth and threw my bag down on the seat.
Adam’s smile was smug.
“Of all the restaurants in town, why so fucking persistent about Mario’s?” I shivered and sank against the bench across from him, the familiar ambience doing little to console me.
“Why wouldn’t I suggest my favorite restaurant? I have dinner here. Every Tuesday.”
“Every Tuesday.” I sighed, elongating both words. “Don’t lie to me, Adam.”
“You seem standoffish. Do you not trust me?” He took a swig of water from a cheap plastic cup, a ring of condensation left be
hind on the table. “I’m not lying.”
“You hate Italian food. You made it blatantly clear at the bar last night,” I replied.
“I didn’t say I came here for the food.”
Knots tightened in my stomach, my appetite gone. “Then, I don’t get it.”
“Call it punishment,” he muttered, his focus turning to the faded menu.
“So, you come here, a restaurant that exclusively serves Italian food, because you don’t like fettuccine and manicotti? Makes total sense.”
His eyes locked with mine. “No, Blue. I come here for the memories.”
Shit.
I felt the corners of my mouth droop as silence took a firm hold at our table.
Soft country music played in the background and it didn’t fit the mood. At all. Something angry and intense, like heavy metal, felt more appropriate.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, pushing the napkin-wrapped silverware setting away from me. “Dinner. It was a mistake.”
Lyndsie had suddenly appeared again, interrupting us. “Can I get y’all some drinks?”
From where she stood, I was trapped between her and the wall. My only escape route was under or over the table. Both would cause a scene and neither seemed like a good idea. It left one fact remaining. A single dinner with Adam was a situation I’d need to endure. “Just the water,” I replied.
“Cola, please.” Adam said. “Oh, and can I get some crayons?”
“Sure…thing.” Lyndsie shook her head slowly as she walked away.
Awkward silence was quickly trumping words.
“So, do you want to talk about the details of the job?” My eyes flicked down toward the folder on the table.
“Not yet,” Adam replied. “Be patient, blue eyes. I want to order first.”
Blue Page 18
