Paradise Cafe

by Adrienne Staff

  • • •

  They drove through steady rain from Cocoa to Orlando. North of the city, the sky was threatening, but the rain held off.

  “So, where am I taking you?” Jack asked shortly. “Your place or the restaurant?”

  “To the Paradise. I left a message with Jeanette that Simon could meet me there around ten. And if he’s not there”—she shrugged, offering a hopeful smile—“well, then it can’t be so important, and we can go to my place and I’ll make you something to eat. Okay?”

  “Dandy.”

  Two cars were parked in the café’s lot, Simon’s and another.

  “You don’t think it’s those thugs from Miami again, do you?” Abby asked, trying to peer into the other car’s lit interior.

  “It’s a different car, different plates, but we’ll soon find out. You wait here. Keys are in the ignition; just get going if there’s any trouble.” He stepped out and headed toward Simon’s car.

  Simon met him halfway, smiling and waving to whomever was in the other car. The doors opened, and sure enough, two men stepped out, but they were pleasant-looking men, middle-aged and dressed in suits.

  Jack glared at Simon’s weasel face. “This better have been important.”

  “Oh, it’s important, all right.” He pointed toward Abby. “So, is she coming out or are we going to hold this meeting in the parking lot?”

  “I’d like to shove your face in this parking lot,” Jack said, his voice low and menacing.

  Simon took a hasty step back.

  Jack turned to the other two. “This couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

  The two men looked at each other, surprise and nervousness clearly written on their faces. “Well, Simon said he was leaving town tomorrow, and insisted we—I mean, he said that Ms. Clarke suggested we meet tonight. Is something wrong?”

  The muscles tightened in Jack’s jaw. “There’d better not be. Wait here.”

  He turned and strode back to the car. “Abby, come on out. Whoever these guys are, they’re not dangerous.”

  Abby said a quick hello as she walked by them, then unlocked the door of the café. All five of them stepped into the dining room. “Why don’t you have a seat?” she said, and sank into a chair. She looked expectantly from one person to another, then focused on Simon. “Well, what’s so important?”

  “I sold my half of the restaurant to these guys, and they want to buy you out,” Simon said, leaning his chair back on two legs.

  Jack grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back down with a thump that made his teeth rattle. “You did what?”

  “I sold my half. I’m allowed to.” His voice was a whine. “It’s perfectly legal. These guys had it written up by a lawyer. I’ve got my money. It’s all done!”

  Abby stood up, her eyes so wide, the whites showed all around. “But how could you do that? This is my restaurant. I love this place, and I have no intention of selling it. Not to anybody! Do you all understand that?”

  Both men rose hastily. “Ms. Clarke, we were led to believe that you’d be interested in selling—at the right price, of course.”

  “Well, that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie! And you can’t make me. You can’t force me out—”

  “Take it easy, Abby,” Jack whispered, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

  She pulled away, shouting, “You can’t make me sell. If you try I’ll fight you. I’ll go to court. I’ll—I don’t know what I’ll do, but—” She started to shake, and her voice broke.

  “Please, Ms. Clarke,” said one of the men. “Please don’t upset yourself. Take it easy.”

  “Yeah, take it easy.” Simon rose with a nasty laugh. “Gee, you’ve turned into a nervous bitch.”

  Abby gasped.

  Jack put his hands on her shoulders and moved her to one side. Then he smashed Simon in the jaw. Simon went down like a sack of potatoes.

  The taller of the two men looked from Simon, on the floor, up to Jack. “Bet he never even saw that coming.”

  “He should have,” his partner answered. “Anyway, he’s bound to remember it for a good long while. What did Simon say your name is?”

  “He didn’t. It’s Jack Gallagher.”

  “Well, Mr. Gallagher, we’ll be sure to remember that. Now, we’re not looking for trouble. This is strictly business.”

  “Fine. Then why don’t you gentlemen have your lawyer put this purchase offer down on paper, with an appropriate buy-out clause, and get back to Ms. Clarke’s lawyer.”

  “Fine. Whom do we have it sent to?”

  “It—it’s on the partnership agreement,” Abby said, fighting to hide her trembling. “I’m sure you have a copy of that.”

  “We certainly do. Thank you. And have a nice evening.”

  Eleven

  “What time is it?”

  “You just asked me that, Abby. It’s still only three o’clock in the morning, and no, you can’t call your lawyer now.”

  “But I’ve got to warn him about those men! I’ve got to get him started on some kind of a counterattack.”

  “Not at three A.M.,” Jack repeated, shifting his weary frame on her narrow couch. “Can we go to bed now?”

  “You go ahead. I couldn’t sleep.” She paced back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands. “Oh, my head is pounding.” She rubbed one hand over her cheek. “Even my teeth hurt.”

  Jack rose and put his arms around her. “Let me give you a back rub—”

  She jerked away, annoyance written all over her face. “That’s not what I need now.”

  “Fine.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Abby, don’t make more out of this than it is.”

  She swung on him. “Oh, this isn’t enough? I guess it just doesn’t compare with riding some dumb rubber raft down some dumb river.”

  Jack stared at her. Then he drew a slow breath through clenched teeth. “Abby, until they send you a copy of the legal papers, you don’t even know what you’re faced with—”

  “I’m faced with losing the Paradise!” she wailed.

  “They can’t just force you out.”

  “Can’t they? How the hell do you know? You don’t know anything about this!” She picked at a cuticle until it bled, then stuck her finger in her mouth. She felt wild now, reckless with anger. “Oh, it’s too bad a bear didn’t attack the café, or a raft overturn in my parking lot. Then you could be a real expert! But now you just don’t know anything about it, do you?” She spit the words at him and swung across the room.

  Jack grabbed her arm and yanked her back, but at her first gasp of dismay he let go. “I’m sorry.” His face had gone white. “Sorry.” He backed away, hands spread, breathing hard. “I know you’re scared, and if you need someone to take it out on—”

  “Oh, what a brave and noble soul!” she snapped.

  Jack’s body grew rigid. “Why the hell are you mad at me, Abby?”

  “Because if you hadn’t been here, I’d have been paying attention. I would have seen what Simon was up to. I’d have stayed one step ahead—”

  “Bullshit. You chose a bad partner, and he’s pulled a fast one.”

  “Oooh!” Her breath popped out in an explosion of anger. “So it’s my own fault? My ineptitude? My stupidity?”

  “That’s not what I meant, dammit—”

  “That’s what you said. It’s what everyone’s going to say! All these years, all this hard work, and I’m going to fail in front of everyone! But maybe you and everybody else expected it, and I’m the only one who’s surprised!” She shoved at him with all her might. “Just leave me alone! Go away!”

  “Abby”—he held her tightly, letting her struggle vainly against him—“Abby, don’t hurt yourself over this. It’ll be okay. It’ll work out. And, darlin’, it’s only a business, only a restaurant—”

  “No!” she cried. “It’s all I have!”

  Jack’s head snapped back as if she had hit him. “Really? Then what the hell am I doing here?”

&
nbsp; Turning on his heel, he slammed out the door and strode away, carrying his silent fury into the dark night.

  She took three aspirin and refused to think. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She would just wait, wait until morning, and then she could call the lawyer and he’d help her and everything would be okay again, and then Jack would come back, he’d surely come back, he’d know she hadn’t meant any of it. But she wouldn’t think about it till morning.

  Jack did come back. At ten the next morning, he knocked twice, loudly, then let himself in. He found her sprawled on the couch, still wearing the wet raincoat she had worn to the lawyer’s office earlier.

  “Abby?” he whispered, kneeling beside her. His eyes were dark as bruises in his drawn face, but they softened at the sight of her. “Sweet thing? Hey, you crazy kid, you’re soaking wet.”

  He untied her belt and pulled the coat down off her shoulders and tossed it in the corner.

  She grumbled in her sleep, her exhausted body fighting to hold on to this sweet escape. Don’t let me wake, don’t let me wake.… But with the thought, she was awake. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused.

  “Hello, Abby. You okay?”

  “Jack?” She sighed, resting her cheek on one hand. She stared at him myopically, without the slightest trace of recognition.

  “Just wait here. I’ll get you some coffee.”

  He brought back a steaming mug and waited silently while she sipped it. Then he lumbered to his feet. “Come on. You’ve got to get out of those wet clothes.”

  She looked down at herself in surprise. “Oh. I’m all wet.” Puzzlement creased her brow. Then, lifting one finger, she nodded. “I remember. It was pouring. I went to the lawyer’s office, and it was pouring, and I had to wait in the hall.… But didn’t I have a raincoat? I thought—”

  “It’s over there.” He pointed, already leading her toward the bedroom.

  “Good. Thought maybe I’d lost my marbles.”

  He gave a short, harsh bark of a laugh, handed her a towel, and pulled a robe from her closet. “There. Get dry.”

  She stopped and looked up at him with a crooked little smile. “Haven’t you got an old sweat shirt around, mister?”

  A look of pain flashed across his face as he turned away.

  Abby looked confused. “I was just—I mean, it reminded me of that first time—”

  “I know what you were remembering!” His brusqueness made her flinch, but before she could say a word, he had her in his arms. “Oh, God, woman. I love you so much.” He breathed in the damp smell of her hair, then pushed her gently away. “Get dressed. I’ll wait out there.”

  She came out brushing her limp hair, the sleeve of her robe falling away from her pale arm. She looked so fragile that his heart ached, but he knew her too well to baby her. “Okay, tell me what your lawyer said.”

  She shrugged and sat down on the edge of one chair. The brush lay forgotten in her lap. “He said he would contact their lawyers today, but that most likely Simon’s sale to them was legal, and that they would have every right to make a buy-out offer.” Her shoulders sagged. “He said that once we get a copy of the papers, we can ‘study the facts, examine the options—several courses will be open to us.’ He said he’d be in touch.” She gave an unconvincing little laugh.

  Jack reached over, took both her hands in his, and pulled her onto his lap. She ignored the hair-brush as it fell to the floor. “I wish I could make it all better.”

  “So do I.” She sighed and let her head fall against his shoulder. “Right now I’m not feeling so good.”

  Jack brushed his lips across the top of her head.

  At his touch, Abby reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Jack—I’m sorry about last night.”

  “I’ll get over it.”

  She looked up at him. “But you haven’t yet?”

  “Not quite.” He gave her a wry smile. “But I’ll live. Anyway, what do you do next?”

  “That’s the worst thing!” she said, standing up. “I can’t go out and do anything. I’ve got to wait. Mark time at the café as if it were business as usual, and wait! Wait for their lawyer’s papers, wait for my lawyer’s suggestions, wait for their lawyer’s response. Oh”—she tossed her head—“damn! I think I’ll go crazy!”

  She kicked the brush and started to pace again.

  Jack stood and grabbed hold of her. “Enough of that. It’s Monday, and we’re going to the farmers’ market. You’ve got ten minutes to get ready. Go!”

  Bleary-eyed, Abby obeyed.

  When the phone rang, she was stepping out of the shower. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Jack, I’ll get it!” she yelled, flashing by in a towel. “Maybe it’s my lawyer. Maybe—” She grabbed the phone, her face flushed. “Yes, hello?”

  There was a tiny pause. She looked down at the receiver in surprise and then held it out stiffly to Jack. “It’s for you. It’s a woman.”

  Frowning, Jack took the phone. “Hello? Gallagher here.” He listened in silence. Less than a minute passed, but it was enough time for the blood to drain from his face, leaving his lips white-edged.

  Abby started to move closer, but the look in his eyes held her at bay.

  When he did speak, his chest heaved and the breath rasped in his throat. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll be right there.… Yes, I understand.… I said, yes, dammit! Now, hang up so I can call the airlines.”

  He pressed the disconnect button and stood holding the receiver to his chest, his dark eyes sightless.

  “Jack …?”

  His voice came from far away. “It’s Pop. He’s back in the hospital with internal bleeding. Something they didn’t catch the other day … He—” Jaw clenched tight, he shook his head and tried again. “He—oh, Lord …” The pain in his face was terrible to see.

  Abby tried to touch him. “Jack?”

  “Get me the phone book! Hurry, we’ve got to get a flight out now.”

  “Jack, I’m so sorry. What—?”

  “Hurry! We’ve got to get there. We’ve got to get there now, you understand? He’s all the family I’ve got—” His voice broke.

  “Here,” she whispered, “let me dial for you.”

  “No. Just go throw some things in a suitcase. Where the hell is ‘airlines’? There!” He stabbed at the numbers, then leaned heavily against the wall. “Answer … answer, already!” The sweat stood out on his brow and stained dark circles under his arms. “Answer, already, will you!… Hello! Yes, I need to make a reservation on your next flight out to Denver …” He was breathing like a boxer taking a beating. “What? Hang on.” He turned to Abby. “Can we make a twelve-thirty?”

  She glanced at her watch and shook her head.

  “Damn!” Spearing his fingers through his hair, he grabbed hold and yanked, hard. “No. What’s your next one?… Well, who else flies out there?… Do they have a flight in between—Listen, would you help me with this, lady? This is an emergency!… Yes.” He closed his eyes. “Yes, we’ll take that.… Why can’t you make the reservation?… Okay, give me the number. Thanks.”

  He hit the disconnect button and started redialing. His eyes sought Abby’s face and rested there, as if only the sight of her held off his panic.

  Nothing had ever frightened Abby so much as the look of him, wild and grieving.

  “Go pack.” He nodded toward the bedroom, then jerked his attention back to the phone. “Hello, I need two tickets on your flight 101, Orlando to Denver, and a rental car on up to Estes Park—today!…” He glanced at Abby, frowned, and mouthed the words Go pack.

  Abby just stood there, suddenly unable to breathe.

  Jack’s face became still as stone. He stared at her, taking her measure—and his own. The he took a deep breath.

  “It’s okay, Abby. I understand.”

  “Jack”—she was gasping, desperate to explain—“I can’t go now. I can’t. The café, the lawyers …”

  “I understand.” Pain was etched in the lines of his fac
e. Pain and betrayal. But he set his mouth, tightened his jaw, and pulled himself together. He wouldn’t ask for more than she could give. And if he’d hoped for more, needed more, that was his own damn problem! “It’s all right, Abby. I’ll go alone.”

  Then he spoke into the phone. “Yes, I’m still here. I need one seat on that flight.… Gallagher. Jack … Yeah, thanks.”

  He reached for the phone book, knocked it to the floor, and bent to pick it up.

  Abbey watched him, mute and frightened.

  He flipped through the pages, his hands shaking. Found a number. Dialed.

  “I need a cab to the Orlando airport, right now.”

  “Jack,” she said, fighting for breath, “I’ll take you.”

  “No,” he said, his voice harsh with control. “No, not a good idea. You’d better stay by the phone. And I’d better get going.”

  With that same frightening control, he drew a hand slowly down her cheek. “I’ll be back when I can.”

  Abby put her hand over his. “Let me drive you to the airport, Jack. Please …”

  “No, darlin’. Right now, halfway won’t help either of us.”

  Twelve

  Where else would she go but the Paradise Café? She drove over, unlocked the back door, and stepped into the kitchen. Things were just as she’d left them. This was her place. This was what mattered. Right? Oh, wrong, wrong, wrong! All of a sudden, it was just a room. Just a kitchen in a nice little restaurant in a nice little town in central Florida. That was all it was. She blinked. And it was as if she were waking up from a dream she had fallen into years ago, in a high-school library, a dream about escaping poverty and fear. She had tumbled into that dream a desperate teenager—and not woken up till just this moment. Now it was love, and not fear, that filled her heart.

  Jack! He was what mattered. He was the center of her life. He was everything!

  Who else would she call but her family? When her mother answered the phone, Abby told her to hurry over, with all of them. She needed their help. There and then.

  When they showed up, she wrapped them all in great big, unexpected hugs, scaring the heck out of them, so that they sank into their chairs, worried and wide-eyed. “Has something happened?” Jeanette asked, the only one able to find a voice.