Afterward, we boxed our leftovers, and the server placed them in a sack for us. Sean carried the bag in his left hand, his right hand clutching mine.
“I will never forget that meal,” I told him as we stepped outside. “Never ever, for as long as I live.”
“I hope you remember the company,” he said. “Just a little.”
“Just a little,” I teased, knowing I was more likely to remember the way he looked at me across our table than the taste of the peppers. By morning, the food would be a blur of yum while every one of Sean’s smiles would remain filed away in my heart.
“Let’s walk a little,” Sean suggested. “It’s nice out.”
He took my arm, and I leaned into him with pleasure.
Was this how Celia had felt about Teddy? I considered them both, having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea. The feelings I had for Sean—they were wild and unfettered, each one welling up unexpectedly and sending me into new spirals of sentiment.
Celia and Teddy had been so…steady. Quiet.
Had it been love for them?
I thought I’d been in love before, with boys from school and college dates. But then our circumstances changed, and Celia and I opened the tea shop, fighting to land on our feet. There hadn’t been much time for dating. Who would I have dated? Our clientele consisted of women and gay men—it was San Francisco, after all. Perhaps a savvy straight man might have come to our door in search of a woman, and if he had, he would have had options. But our world had been insular; Celia and Teddy had met at her old job.
“What do you think about ice cream?” Sean asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“In general?” I tossed him a bemused expression. “I’m in favor. I’m not angry at it.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I meant, what do you think about getting ice cream now?”
“What are we doing with it once it’s gotten? Because I have no idea how I’d ingest so much as an ice cube, not after the meal we just had.”
“This is really good ice cream. Local. You might make an exception.”
“So you’ve got a specific place in mind.”
“Amy’s Ice Creams, the 6th Street location. It’s just about a mile from here. And it’s scenic,” he added, pointing down the street. “We’d go past the capitol building.”
“I do like taking in local sights.” I turned in the direction he’d pointed. “Just to warn you, I reserve the right to sniff rather than eat.”
I took a few steps before he snagged my wrist. “Where are you going?” he asked, clearly bemused.
“Ice cream?” I asked, confused. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“I was going to call for a rideshare,” he answered, laughing. “Didn’t think you’d want to walk.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “I’ll tell you something, Sean Willis. I’m a California girl. And you know what California girls do?”
“Katy Perry gave me all sorts of ideas, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“We walk outside when the weather is nice,” I told him.
“You sure you can walk in those shoes?”
“I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?” I looked down at my feet, clad in a pair of well-padded heels, and held a foot out. “Our feet were made for walking, and I don’t wear shoes that fight that purpose.”
“So much sense in one so beautiful.”
I knew I shouldn’t have felt too flattered—we’d been talking about feet, after all. But that was the power of Sean Willis. The way he smiled down at me, I felt like the cleverest, most beautiful woman in all of Austin.
Amy’s Ice Creams was everything Sean promised, and more. Tub after tub of ice cream, in the most intoxicating flavors—Mexican vanilla, carrot cake, lavender chocolate, and something called “Mozart’s Toddy.”
As full as I was, I could feel the contents of my stomach shifting ever so slightly to make room. Because even coming from San Francisco, the city of a thousand ice cream parlors, I knew this was something special.
We ate our cones on the walk back, me with my carrot cake and molasses scoops, Sean with his dish of “Remember the a la Mode.” The glow of happiness kept me warm, even while eating something frozen.
Sean cranked the heat up inside his truck, once we retrieved it from the valet. Even buckled securely to my seat, I felt dizzy with happiness.
Had I ever felt so happy? I knew, logically, that I had, but at that moment all those memories escaped me. All I could do was live in this moment with this man, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
Sean parked his truck a little away from the casita and jumped down to help me from the passenger seat.
“I had a good time,” he said, tucking my arm into his. “I’d like to see you again.”
“I’m not sure,” I teased, the light in my eyes surely telling him that I knew I was speaking nonsense. “I ate so much tonight, it’ll be weeks before I’m hungry again.”
Sean grinned, pulling me close. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
And before I knew what was happening, he kissed me. A perfect, spontaneous kiss, warm and deep and real. The kind of kiss that confirmed that everything I’d felt had felt real for him too.
I kissed him back, of course. He was so tall, so blond, so perfect, never mind the fact that he tasted like ice cream. I felt myself spiral into the kiss, deeper, and pulled away a split second before I might have lost myself forever.
“You’re right, I suppose,” I said, my voice husky and half-breathless. “I could probably find it within myself to share another meal with you sometime soon.”
“Oh really?” He gave the corner of my mouth another caress. “Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“I minded,” I said dryly. “Clearly.”
“I’ll pick you up Saturday night? Seven?”
I nodded.
One last kiss. “I’ll see you then, Jane Woodward,” he said, before returning to my side. “I still have to walk you to your door. I’m Texan like that.”
12
If you are cold, tea will warm you. If you are too heated, it will cool you. If you are depressed, it will cheer you. If you are excited, it will calm you.
—WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE
Jane
I crept into the house and up the stairs to the loft. Margot was asleep and breathing heavily on her bunk. I knelt down by Celia, giving her shoulder a gentle shake. “Hey! Wake up!”
Celia groaned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m home.”
“I figured.”
“I don’t want to exaggerate,” I whispered. “but he’s the most perfect man ever on the face of the earth. So if you actually created him in a lab for me, don’t spoil it.”
She snorted and rolled over. “Okay. I won’t.”
“I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“I appreciate that.”
Naturally, we discussed the date in greater detail the next morning.
“He’s super hot,” Margot declared. “You should totally make it official.”
“We’re going out again Saturday.” A smile spread across my face, and I gave Celia a gentle nudge with my elbow. “I don’t know that I’ve thanked you properly for insisting we come to Austin.”
“I imagine you should also thank me for deciding against stopping for a longer dinner that night in San Antonio the way I wanted to. If we’d come in any later, Sean might not have been there to see us and stop to help.”
“You’re right. You’re the best sister ever. And not just because you loaned me your wrap.”
“It flatters your coloring better, anyway. I’m glad you had a good time.”
The look crossed her face again, the faraway look that flashed across her face every time she thought of Teddy. I waited to see if she’d say something, if there was something she wanted to talk to me about. But instead, she patted my shoulder and rose to put the kettle on.
We drank tea together, the conversation turning to a ballet studio for Margot, looking at restaurant spaces, and the fluctuations of the weather.
Everything but Teddy.
Margot picked out three dance studios to visit, and she and I made plans to visit after school. “And get doughnuts from Gordough’s while we’re out,” she said. “Yelp says we have to.”
“If Yelp says,” I said, ruffling her curls before glancing at the clock. “It’s time to get you to school. Are your things together?”
They weren’t, so I gathered my keys and purse while she clambered back upstairs.
“Are you okay?” I asked Celia as I stuffed my feet into shoes. “You seem…quiet.”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “Want to look at some more locations today? Chad said there were a couple places.”
“Of course.”
Margot ran back down the stairs, backpack in hand. “I’m ready!”
I shrugged into my coat. “Let’s go, kid.” I met Celia’s eyes. “Be back in a little bit.”
Margot and I left together, but as we climbed into the truck, I couldn’t shake the sense of worry for Celia.
“You told them we’d be there for lunch?” I asked Celia two Saturdays later. “I’d planned on pruning the tea plants and working on new blends today.”
Celia arched an eyebrow. “You’re awfully whiny for someone who had yet another best date ever last night.”
I took a deep breath. “I— You’re not wrong. But do we have to?”
“Nina’s cousin is coming, remember?”
“Ooh, the cousin.” I flopped into the armchair by the window. “I forgot. About the cousin.”
“Yes, well, Nina didn’t.”
“Mmm. Hey—when are we going to look at more tea-salon locations? I’ve got a bunch more orders to fill, and I’m running out of space.”
“I can talk to Chad about it, see if anything new is available.”
“Let’s do that. Soon. The Vandermeides are being very good to us, but seriously—we need our own place.”
“Yeah,” Celia answered, noncommittally. I squinted at her but said nothing.
Disconcerted, I spent the remaining morning hours carefully pruning my tea plants, checking over the leaves and the soil, trimming as necessary.
The day had just begun to heat up when I heard footsteps behind me. I started and turned to see Ian’s friend Beckett.
I took him in even as I took breaths to calm myself. “Oh, hey,” I said. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone over here.” I took in his shorts and button-down shirt, his metal prosthetic leg reflecting sunlight back at me. “Can I help you with something?”
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a grimace. “I was just on a walk around the property.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him as my heart rate slowed to its normal pace.
“These are your tea plants?”
“They are,” I said, plucking a young leaf and handing it to him. “That’s what tea comes from—the buds and young leaves.”
He examined it, running his fingers over the soft underside. “Really?”
“Yup. What makes them tea is how they’re dried and oxidized.”
He handed the leaf back to me. “I know these are important to you. I’ll let you keep it.”
“There will be more,” I said with a smile before examining what I thought might be a caterpillar but turned out to be a trick of the light. “They seem to like the heat here, but I’ve got to be careful to keep the soil moist enough.”
“I’m sure.”
He stood there looking at the plants. I kept working, checking over the leaves for pests, examining the soil in each pot. But after a while, the silence made me itch. “Good walk?”
“Good enough,” he said, nodding. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Are you coming to lunch this afternoon?”
“What’s that?”
“Lunch? With the Vandermeides? Nina’s cousin, Lucinda. Or…something like that.”
His mouth twitched. “Lyndsay?”
“Whatever.” I picked off two more dead leaves. “I’m in a rotten mood, so I probably shouldn’t be in polite company.”
He frowned. “Anything wrong?”
“Celia’s just…I don’t know. We were planning on getting things going with a new location pretty quickly, and that didn’t pan out. I feel like we’re losing momentum, and…I guess I’m just worried I might be the only one who cares. I don’t know. I’m feeling out of my league here.” I snapped my mouth shut. “This is probably very boring for you. Sister problems.”
He gave a wry smile. “I never had a sister.”
“No? You missed out. Sisters are the best. Though if I were a man, I might not think so.”
“I would have liked a sister. My brother and I…we weren’t close.”
I’d never considered myself to be particularly perceptive—not about people, at any rate. People didn’t photosynthesize. But Beckett—even I could tell that there was quite a lot of subtext in his statement about his brother.
“Celia and I have always had each other,” I said softly, kneeling on the ground. Beckett followed, and I thought I detected a sigh of relief as he sat, cross-legged on the ground.
Then again, he didn’t have leaves, so what did I know?
“We always had each other,” I repeated, my hands busy with the foliage. “Especially after our mother died and things with our father got…complicated. He left…not so much for the usual reasons. Margot was eight, and we became her guardians. Our world turned upside down, but we did what we could for her, for each other.” I hugged my knees to myself. “Enough about me. How about you? You’re trying to turn around your barbecue business, right? At least, Ian said something like that.”
“That’s right. You know anything about the business?”
“Barbecue?” I snorted. “Nope. Not something the Bay is famous for. You might have Celia look over your books; she’s a whiz. If you need to overhaul your drinks or desserts, I’m your gal.” She winced. “I’ve also been told I’m good at firing people.”
“Oh?”
“We hired seasonal staff over the summer, sometimes. It can work out, but sometimes…well, let’s say I’m good at spotting a problem person and letting them go.”
“I can’t see Celia enjoying that role.”
“Nope. She’s a soft touch.” I yanked off the last of the leaves I intended to harvest for the night, and straightened. “But if you need a hand, let me know.”
“I might just take you up on that.”
Callum smiled, and I noticed, maybe not for the first time, that he had a nice smile.
I sat in the corner of the dining room, staring daggers at the back of my sister’s right shoulder.
She sat next to Lyndsay, rapt.
And she was talking. Talking, to Lyndsay Stahl.
I wouldn’t have minded if they’d been talking about the weather or the molding in the dining room. But I heard Celia say Teddy’s name, and in that moment I felt myself freeze over.
Celia wouldn’t talk to me about Teddy, but she’d talk to Lyndsay. It might have hurt less if it had been, say, Nina. Or Pilar. Or even Mariah, if Mariah would condescend to listen to such things. But in the last two hours, I’d reached the firm and irrevocable conclusion that Lyndsay was the worst.
It wasn’t just Celia; everyone in the house—save Pilar—seemed enamored with her. Even Margot pulled out a few ballet steps to impress her.
Lyndsay appeared thrilled, but the thing was, she reminded me uncomfortably of the people who used to cozy up to Dad. They’d flatter him because they wanted something from him. None of Lyndsay’s smiles quite reached her eyes.
For her part, Lyndsay spent plenty of time cozying up to Mariah. If Lyndsay was managing social media for a finance tech start-up, she wasn’t a dummy. Silicon Valley social media was a cutthroat world.
I didn’t know what Lyndsay wanted, but she wanted it hard, and Maria
h was the most willing target I’d ever seen. Lyndsay asked after Ian and Mariah’s four children, and when Mariah paraded them out, Lyndsay complimented them and played with them for an hour.
Which, under different circumstances, might have been charming.
But Lyndsay kept glancing at Mariah to make sure she was watching. If Mariah’s attention shifted to, say, Pilar, Lyndsay’s voice rose. She’d call out a child’s name, toss one of the small ones into the air, or start singing a song from Frozen. It felt as though she’d looked up the definition of a manic pixie dream girl and intended to live it out in Technicolor.
What made it worse was that nobody else seemed to notice her ploy. Well, maybe Beckett did, but if she’d turned his head, I would have been surprised. She didn’t seem his type, not that I had much of an idea what constituted his type.
But the others? They thought she was so charming and so free and so lovely, and it all made me want to throw up.
I tried giving her the benefit of the doubt. For the first half hour.
And truly, thirty minutes of patience, from me, is generous. Lyndsay used up all my generosity—possibly a month’s supply—by the end of those thirty minutes. She was so saccharine to Mariah yet barely gave Pilar the time of day. Her attention-seeking behavior was too consistent, her tone of voice too sweetly measured considering the level of dirt and hair pulling she endured.
She was undoubtedly playing a long game. I just had no idea what it was.
Beckett, lucky man, had swung through the doors looking for a bite of lunch. And then he’d swung back out, before having to make too much conversation with Lyndsay.
I edged my way to the corner, where I could pull out my phone and be moderately rude, rather than completely rude.
Nina’s cousin is here, I texted Sean. She’s dreadful.
A moment, and then a flashing notification light. Want me to rescue you?
I shot a quick glance at Celia. Celia would hate it if I bailed on an event with the Vandermeides.
Sure, I texted back. And by “sure,” I mean “as soon as you can, please and thank you.”
Jane of Austin Page 11
