Faith opened the bag and took a big sniff. "Nana's muffins! And they smell like buttermilk spice, my favorite."
"Yep. Enjoy. And good luck at work. Call me if you can," Jen said, and she waved all the way until Faith turned the corner.
"Well, Daisy, I guess it's just you and me," she said to the puppy as her tail pounded against the wooden slats of the fence.
She took Daisy for a quick walk around the block but didn't want to take her all the way to the beach, as much as Daisy tugged in that direction.
"Not this morning, girl. We're going to go tonight with Carrie. I've got a lot of work to do," she said as they made it back to the house. She took a moment to cut some of Nana's flowers and put together a quick bouquet for the kitchen counter—some alstroemeria and daisies. Then she set to work in Nana's closet.
Her grandmother had always been a snazzy dresser, but Jen had no idea how many designer things she'd had—from scarves, to coats, to sequined dresses. When she was growing up, she'd seen her grandmother mostly in skirts and capris, and had never seen any of this.
She pulled out a Hermes scarf and shook it out—the color of the flowers was still deep and crisp. She walked over to the mirror and flipped it over her hair, tying it under her chin. She reached for a pair of sunglasses—she'd found a drawer full of them—and tried them on, too.
A quick knock on the door called her attention, and she laughed at the look of surprise on Joe's face when she opened it.
"Oh, hello. You must be Audrey Hepburn. I'm looking for Jen. Is she here?"
She pulled off the glasses and stuck out her tongue at him, opening the door for him to come in.
"Very funny."
"No, seriously, you look like one of those beautiful gals in the movies in the fifties. Audrey Hepburn isn't that far off."
Jen pulled off the scarf, the smooth silk slipping through her fingers. "They sure were glamorous, weren't they? With these scarves and big glasses, you kind of can't help but feel you need to get in a convertible and cruise the boulevard."
Joe laughed and raised his eyebrows, pointing at a muffin.
"Sure, help yourself," Jen said, handing him a plate. "Buttermilk spice today."
"Mm," Joe said as he took the first bite. "It's delicious."
Jen loved it that people enjoyed Nana's muffins. It always made her happy, and now that she was going through her grandmother's things, she was glad she'd made a special batch this morning. Between the muffins and the flowers and the scarves, she almost felt like Nana was here with her.
Joe took a glance at all the scarves and coats that were draped over the sofa. "You sure have a lot, there."
"Yeah, I'm not even sure what I'm going to do with it. I think some of it was pretty expensive. This is a Hermes scarf, even," she said, twisting the silk between her fingers.
"That's very cool," Joe said between bites. "I can ask my mom. She knows about some consignment stores, or maybe you'd want to have an estate sale or something."
Jen leaned against the couch and looked at the clothes. "I don't know. Do people want things that are so old?"
"Are you kidding? They're not old, they're vintage. Getting a whole new life, from what Ma tells me. I can send her over if you want."
"Oh, that'd be great. Why don't you see if she'd like to come over for dinner? Both of you. I'm making Black Forest pot roast. The weather’s cooled off a little and I’m ready to pretend it’s fall. And I'm going to miss Faith, I'm sure. I'd be glad for the company."
"Ah, any kind of pot roast is great with me. Ma and I will be here if I have to carry her myself."
Jen laughed and wrapped up a couple of muffins for Joe.
"Oh, I almost forgot. This is why I stopped by."
He held out a tin. "From Ma. I told her you loved the cookies, and she said you could never have too many. So, here you go."
Jen opened a bag and grinned. "More wedding cookies? Awesome, thanks. Everybody ate the others last night, and I was kind of sad about that."
"Huh. I thought maybe you would be, so there you are."
"Please thank her for me, and let me know if you guys can come for dinner."
Joe headed down the steps. "Will do. I'll call her as soon as I get to work. Need to hustle at the moment or I'm going to be late. See ya, Daisy," he said as he headed down the street with a wave.
Daisy. Oh, right, she'd told Carrie she'd meet her for a walk and had already promised Daisy, and she wasn't likely to get off the hook with either one.
Well, if she hurried, she could get dinner in the slow cooker early and be able to take that late afternoon walk with Carrie and Daisy anyway. That sounded like the perfect idea—she could have her cake and eat it, too. Or pot roast, in this case.
She laughed at herself and got to work in the kitchen, hoping that she could make anything half as good as what Mrs. Russo made. Fingers crossed, she vowed to give it her best try.
Fourteen
Carrie got up before the sun and by the time she'd finished her yoga practice, it was the perfect time to have coffee on the deck and watch the sun light up the waves. The wind had died down overnight, and now they were definitely lapping at the shore rather than crashing.
And that exactly matched her mood. A good night's sleep had cleared the cobwebs out of her head, and she felt great—ready to go to work, meet clients and move on.
She took a last sniff of the lilies before she grabbed her keys and headed out the door, writing herself a note on her phone to call Dirk later and thank him. It had been too late the night before, and she wanted to make sure she did it as soon as she got in.
As she was entering the reminder on her phone, a call came through but she didn't recognize the number. She let it go to voicemail and was going to listen to it but could tell in her call history that whatever number it was, the person had called something like ten times yesterday. If it was a number she didn't know, why would they call so many times? It was a local number, but it wasn't even remotely familiar.
She took a quick glance at her watch and realized she'd better step it up to get to work on time. Andrea, her office manager, came in an hour earlier to go through cancellations so things were under control, but she hated to be late.
Her phone buzzed again as she drove to work, but she'd put it in her purse and didn't really want to look at it. She'd enjoyed her calm morning, and after the past weekend, she didn't want to mess it up.
It didn't take but a second, though, for it to be messed up for her.
She wasn't even through the door before Andrea rushed out from the back offices, a stack of pink phone message sheets in her hand.
"I've only been here for an hour, and he's called twenty-five times. And there were more calls than that on the answering machine," she said, thrusting the stack toward Carrie.
Carrie took the stack and glanced at the number—where had she seen that before?—but headed to her office to set down her things and put on her lab coat. She picked the stack back up and literally froze.
Rob. She flipped through the pink papers—Rob, Rob and Rob. And as she did, she recognized that it was the same number that had appeared so many times on her phone. What could he possibly want after all these years?
"You're going to call him back, right?" Andrea asked as she passed by the office door.
She stopped when Carrie didn't answer, leaning against the door jamb with her eyebrows raised and arms folded.
"Want me to call him and tell him to drop dead? Again? It's been a few years and it would give me great pleasure," she said, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a sly grin.
"No, I'll listen to his message and see what's up. I got this."
Andrea's expression softened. "You sure?" she asked, more quietly. Andrea had been with Carrie for years and knew the entire situation.
"Yes, but thanks. It's all ancient history, anyway. I'm fine."
"Hm. Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. I can help. It's not like I can get anything done if he keeps
calling."
Her attempt at a joke was much appreciated but didn't really help. Carrie couldn't even begin to guess what Rob would want to talk to her about. They had no financial ties at all, and since he'd made certain she couldn't see Bethany again, there really wasn't anything to talk about.
She picked up her phone and scrolled through her missed calls. Whatever was on his mind, he wasn't going to let it go. He'd called her cell phone almost as many times as he'd called the office...and left messages. It took almost ten minutes to listen to them all and for the most part, they were the same. "Call me. It's urgent."
His voice did get a little more strained with each call, though, and by the last one he got to the point.
"Bethany told me what happened. We need to talk about it. Now. Call me."
Carrie's stomach dropped for a moment, and her face flushed. So—they knew she'd talked to Bethany in the ladies' room. She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. There was nothing legal to say she couldn't talk to Bethany, only their agreement. And Bethany's clear desire. Yes, she'd taken a chance to just say hello. Things had cooled down after several years, and maybe she shouldn't have, but she did.
She did have a fleeting thought that she'd upset Bethany somehow, but she couldn't think of anything she'd said that would have. Their encounter had lasted less than a minute, anyway. What could have gone wrong?
Her intercom buzzed on her phone, and she pressed the button. "Yes?"
"He's on the line again. Want to take it?"
She paused for a moment, almost ready to say no, but she glanced out her open door and saw Andrea staring at her, nodding. "Just get it over with," she said.
"All right. Put him through."
She took in a deep breath and picked up the receiver, skipping all the niceties and hoping he would, too. "Hi, Rob. What's up?"
Apparently, he wasn't going for niceties, either.
He didn't even bother with hello. "This is all your fault, and I'm not going to let you get away with it. Bethany's a mess."
"Hold on a minute. What are you talking about? We ran into each other in the ladies' room. I said hello. That's about it." She didn't think he needed to know that she'd gone in to see Bethany on purpose. Probably wouldn't help.
"Oh, come on. You don't expect me to believe that, do you?"
"Well, yes. It's the truth."
She could feel him fuming through the phone, and she still wasn't sure why. "Seriously, after all these years, it shouldn't be a big deal to just say hello. What's the problem?”
She'd never known him to have a bad temper like this, and she was a bit taken aback. She didn't really care what he thought about her, but if she'd upset Bethany, she was truly sorry, so she decided to say so.
"I had no intention of upsetting her. I really just wanted to say hello. Is she upset?"
Rob let out a chortle. "No. She's happy as a clam. Why wouldn't she be?"
Carrie took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, gripping the receiver more tightly. She just wanted to end the conversation.
"Okay. Great, then. No harm, no foul. I've got to get to work. So, if there's nothing else—"
"Not so fast. She told me what happened. You said she didn't have to go on our trip to Europe. Why would you do something like that? We're supposed to be leaving Sunday night for a month. It's been planned for a year. She was okay with it, until you got involved."
Carrie leaned forward, her elbows on her desk, as she replayed the brief conversation with Bethany. She was positive she'd said no such thing. She had no right to, anyway. No custody, nothing. She'd just said hello.
"Rob, I said nothing of the kind. I was surprised to hear she was going, leaving the tennis team and school, but I said nothing else."
Rob barked at her again. "Well, that was enough, apparently. It took me months to talk her into it, convince her she could miss school and tennis season. Thanks a lot."
"I'm sorry you're having a problem, but I didn't say any of that. I'd be happy to clear it up if you'd like."
Rob paused for a moment, then said, "Great. That would be awesome. The camera crews are coming with us and she's expected to be involved. Besides, there's nobody to leave her with."
Ah, that explained it. Carrie had wondered why he wanted Bethany to go so badly—and it was for his benefit, not hers. Or Cassidy's. Figured.
She shook her head. Some things never changed. "Got it. Can't promise anything, but I'd be happy to talk to her."
"Great. I'll tell her to expect your call. She gets home around four."
"Fine," Carrie said before he hung up without saying goodbye.
Fifteen
Carrie went through her appointments for the morning in a daze. Fortunately, there weren't many complicated procedures, just routine stuff, but she was busy enough to not think about what she was going to say to Bethany. She'd have time for that later.
Andrea hadn't asked, and she hadn't really felt like talking about it. Granted, they hadn't had a moment without patients, but Carrie was relieved she didn't have to get into it.
Just as her last patient for the morning left and she'd checked the front desk to see what her afternoon looked like, Dirk came in. She'd completely forgotten to call him and thank him for the flowers, and she felt like a heel.
"Oh my gosh, I meant to call you first thing this morning, before everything went sideways.
"No problem. I see you got the flowers. Sideways?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.
Carrie glanced at Andrea, who was leaning back in her chair and staring at her. She was sure that Andrea wanted to hear the answer, too.
"Yes. Rob called, and apparently Bethany is refusing to go to Europe. Says I told her she didn't have to."
Andrea leaned forward, her eyes wide. "What? You haven't spoken to Bethany in years. Unfortunately."
Carrie realized that Andrea didn't even know what had happened at the fundraiser—there'd been no time to fill her in.
"I actually saw her at the fundraiser.
"What?" Andrea asked, standing.
"Yeah. I had a one-minute conversation with her, and now Rob is accusing me of sabotaging the trip to Europe they're planning. Says Bethany told him I said she didn't have to go."
Andrea screwed up her face and waved her hand in the air. "Even I know that's ridiculous. You'd never do that."
Carrie shrugged her shoulders. "No, I wouldn't. But he insists that Bethany said I did, and is refusing to go. I told him I'd call her after she gets home from tennis practice."
"Whew. You sure have had a lot happen to you over the weekend."
"Yes, she sure has," Dirk said with a look of concern.
"All I did was surf," Andrea said. "I'd take my weekend over yours any day."
"So would I," Carrie said with a laugh.
"Hey, how about I take you to lunch? See if we can just let things settle down for a change."
Carrie turned to Andrea, who was already looking at the afternoon's schedule. "Good thing we book light on the first day of the work week. You've got plenty of time."
Carrie shrugged off her lab coat and gave Andrea a grateful smile. This had seemed like the longest day of her life, and it was barely noon. She wouldn't mind a little break, and it was nice of Dirk to stop by.
"Where would you like to go?" he asked as he opened the door of his SUV for her.
"I honestly don't care. My head is spinning a bit. I guess I probably just need to eat something."
"Well, we might as well make it something good," Dirk said as he pulled out of the parking lot of Carrie's building.
"How about Sol Cocina?" Dirk asked. "Fish tacos, maybe?"
"Perfect. I haven't been there in a long time," Carrie said, and the next thing she knew, they were heading into the restaurant. It was one of her favorites, but he couldn't have known that. It was authentic Mexican food, just as it was in Baja California, a place she had visited many, many times. She did her best not to think of all the restaurants she and Rob had visited w
hen they'd been planning the menu at the new restaurant, and chose to remember the beautiful desert sunrises and sunsets instead.
Somehow, Dirk magically got the last seat by the windows, with the best view—which wasn’t all that surprising for a Newport guy like him. The gentle ripples on the water were soothing, and she was grateful for the break.
Their waiter brought chips and salsa, and took their order. Dirk laughed when Carrie ordered the peel-and-eat-shrimp, served with cotija cheese, lime and chiles. "I thought you wanted fish tacos."
"Me too. But this is one of my favorites and I haven't had it in forever. Back in the day, we used to drive down the coast to Mexico, buy these and cook them on the beach. No way I'll be able to eat them all, though."
Dirk took another glance at the menu. "I've never tried them. Somehow, the name 'cucarachas' on the menu has never appealed to me."
Carrie laughed. "Maybe they think it's cute. But I agree. When you think about it in English, cockroaches don't sound very appealing. It's just kind of a slang term for shrimp down there."
"Hm. Well, maybe I should try some. How about if I order fish tacos and I'll trade you one for some of your cockroaches? My motto is to try anything once."
"Perfect," Carrie said, and she remembered she still hadn't really thanked him for the flowers. "I'm so sorry I didn't call this morning about the flowers. They're lovely, such a bright pink, and they smell fantastic. The entire kitchen smelled great when I got up this morning. Thank you."
"You're very welcome. Least I could do. I feel like I dragged you into this whole thing, anyway. 'How bad could it be'? I remember saying that. Well, I guess it was a lot worse than I ever thought it could be. And I'm sorry for that."
Carrie squeezed his hand. She felt bad he was so worried about her.
"Look, I knew it could be dicey going in. It took me a long time to even agree, knowing that my mom's primary concern is her standing in Newport, not her daughter's feelings."
Dirk dumped two packets of sugar into his iced tea and stirred, not taking his eyes off Carrie. "It must have been awful to have your ex and his wife arrive like that. Jeez, it was as if they were royals or something."
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