The River Valley Series

by Tess Thompson

  “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “Something bothering you?”

  “No, just anxious about the restaurant.”

  He looked at her and she read on his face a mixture of disappointment and frustration. He put down his spoon and folded his napkin. “How long will this go on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This thing where you don’t tell me the truth. How we avoid talking about the future, or the baby, or us?”

  She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Do we have to do this now?”

  “If not now, when?”

  She moved pieces of omelet around her plate and thought about DeAngelo and how she endangered Tommy with every moment she chose to stay with him. She was able to cajole herself into a false security when she was with him, like they were just an ordinary couple instead of the truth, which was too horrifying to face. “I’m working some things out. I need more time.”

  He picked up his butter knife and rubbed his finger along its shiny surface. “Do you want to be here, with me?”

  She reached across the table and squeezed his forearm. “Isn’t that obvious?”

  * * *

  On Tuesday, Linus appeared on her doorstep in the middle of the morning, wearing a tan linen suit with a light blue shirt, no tie, and a floppy straw hat. He draped across the opening of her front door. “Any rooms to rent?”

  She threw her arms around him. “How did you find me without directions?”

  “The address. GPS took me right here.”

  “That’s bad.”

  “Only if he figures out where you are. Which he won’t.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Not for a while.”

  “How do you know he didn’t follow you here?”

  “Impossible. I’ve been in Chicago, visiting Will’s mother.”

  “Chicago? Will’s mother? What made you do that?”

  “Just felt the urge to see her suddenly. When I left Seattle I got on a bus six blocks from my apartment that took me north to Greenlake, another bus west to Ballard, another bus back downtown, and finally an express bus that took me over the lake to Bellevue, where I walked five blocks to the mall, hung out in Nordstrom’s for an hour, and finally hailed a cab to Boeing Field, where my rich friend Jake flew me to Medford on his private plane. No one followed me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I promise, my little worry wart.” He backed away and looked at her stomach. He paled. “Lee?”

  Her eyes filled. “Yes.”

  He rested on the doorframe, appearing as if he might faint. “Did Dan know?”

  “No. I found out after he died.”

  “How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t think I was going to go through with it.”

  He took a tissue from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “What changed your mind?”

  She looked at the floor, blushing and feeling tears prick her eyes. “I had a spiritual moment after an incident with a bear.”

  He smiled wanly and took off his hat, fanning himself. “A bear? I’m going to need a drink.”

  “Come on in. I have some beer in the fridge. What got into you, coming all this way?”

  “I haven’t had a vacation in three years.”

  “Ever heard of Hawaii?”

  “Hawaii doesn’t have you in it.”

  * * *

  Later that day Linus perched on a chair by the remodeled windows of Riversong and took off his reading glasses. “Opening a restaurant. Didn’t see this coming.”

  “Yeah, well, desperate times, you know?”

  “The aesthetic of the place is fabulous. I couldn’t have done it better myself.” He looked around the dining area. The floors were refinished and stained a rich dark brown. The walls were the color of the skin of green pears and the baseboards and bar matched the floors. Hanging fixtures dangled over each of the nineteen small tables and radiated soft yellow light. In addition to the tables, there were six booths with lush brown velvet fabric covering the bench seating. The tablecloths were a white polyester/linen blend that gave it an old fashioned crisp feel. On each table perched a glass flute waiting for the flowers of the season.

  They heard the sweep of the kitchen doors and looked over to see Tommy, paper bag in his hand. He stopped when he saw the two of them sitting at the bar. Lee waved and motioned him over. “Tommy, my friend Linus from Seattle showed up out of the blue.” As she introduced them Tommy looked Linus up and down, his eyes in a squint as if he had an eyesight problem. Then he handed Lee the paper bag. “I can’t stay but I brought you some lunch.” He leaned over as if to kiss her, but she moved slightly and he stopped, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and anger. “Can I see you in your office for a moment?” he said.

  She glanced at Linus, who appeared amused, and shrugged, scooting off her chair and following him into the back.

  * * *

  “Who the hell is he? Why is he here? Is this an old boyfriend or what?”

  She laughed. “No, he’s my best friend from Seattle. You know, my gay friend? I’ve mentioned him before.”

  That seemed to take the edge off Tommy’s anger but still he glared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming here?”

  “Because I didn’t know. He surprised me.”

  “Oh. Well, why is this the first we’ve seen him or heard from him if he’s such a great friend?”

  She opened her mouth to answer but then couldn’t think of what to say. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  She sat on the edge of her desk, crossing her arms, struggling to think of a way to answer his question without lying. It would have to be a lie by omission, just like she did every day with him. “Linus was a big part of my old life with Dan and I just needed a little break from that world.”

  He let out a long sigh and slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry. I’m a jealous jackass.”

  She hugged him, wanting to tell him that none of this was what it seemed and that he was perfect in his passion for her, his need for her. He was good, she thought. She was a liar. “There’s no reason to be jealous of Linus. You’ll love him and he’ll think you’re hot.”

  He squeezed her. “He must have very discerning taste.”

  “That he does.”

  * * *

  A few minutes later, seated back at the bar, Linus cocked his head and looked her up and down, waving his hands in the air. “You’re stunning. Is it the pregnant glow or this new life?” He tapped his pen on the bar. “I’ve never seen you look better. I love your hair long like this, kind of free flowing and sexy.”

  “I’m a fat cow.”

  He continued to stare at her, lips pursed. “I think you’re happy. You don’t have that little pinched look around your mouth and that nervous little twitch you did with your foot.”

  “I’m pregnant and stuck in Lodi with a business that’s going to flop.”

  “Now you’re just being negative.” He leaned back on the barstool. “Speaking of Lodi, how long have you been sleeping with that sexy Tommy?”

  She flushed. “None of your business.”

  “I knew it. That’s what’s giving you the all over body glow.”

  “Maybe. But, I haven’t told him all of it. Y’know, about the debt to DeAngelo and all.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to put him in danger and there’s nothing he could do to help me. He’s the kind who would try.” She went behind the bar, sprayed soda water into a wine glass, and wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve.

  Linus looked at her, serious. “You in love with this guy?”

  She put up her hand. “I know, it’s shameful. Dan’s not even been gone six months.”

  “Lee, I’ve been thinking a lot about things and I wonder if you were happy before, with Dan?”

  She felt tears spring to her eyes and grabbed a cocktail napkin, swiping at her eyes. She didn’t say anything for a m
oment, thinking about what he’d asked. Tommy had asked her the same thing. Happiness, what did it mean exactly? “Linus, towards the end I used to daydream about leaving him and being free to start over. He was so dark, so driven towards this idea he had for success. There was no room for me. It took me a while of being here to realize he had come to feel like a burden, just as my mother had been. I was spinning on this wheel, thinking that once Dan reached the kind of success he wanted, he would be happy and I could be happy too. And not so lonely.” She ran her hand over the bar. “But I can’t help but think it’s my fault for what happened because I wished for a different life instead of being grateful for the one I had.”

  “Does this Tommy make you happy?”

  “Yeah. Even though he’s not my type at all. He’s a sentimental, liberal, Jesus-loving musician.” Her voice broke. “And he’s got this way of seeing right into me. He’s nice to me and bought a crib at an unfinished wood furniture store for the baby and he’s painting it white. We have incredible chemistry. He thinks we’re soul mates.” She took a shaky breath and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ll just leave it at that.”

  Linus smiled, but his eyes were sad. “And, he doesn’t know how much trouble you’re in.”

  “Right.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We’ll get this figured out so you can be with him. I’m here now.”

  She managed a shaky smile. “Great. Now I’ll have both you and Tommy bossing me around.”

  “What more could you want?” Linus shuffled through her notes. “Anyway, I’m afraid I must agree with your assessment about Riversong.” He lowered his voice. “The main issue is finding staff.” He put his glasses back on and glanced at Annie’s summer menu. “Your chef is quite capable and the young man, this Billy.” He interrupted himself and whispered, “Well, he seems trainable.” He flipped behind the menu and pulled out a spreadsheet, shaking his head, as if contemplating a problem of deep concern to humanity. “However, I’m worried about finding staff.” He glanced askance towards the window. “In this town.”

  “The local druggies won’t do?”

  He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. “Oh, no, no, no. That’s just a shame.” He looked up at the ceiling, sighed, and spread his hands on the surface of the table. “We must find the starving artists. Surely you have some of those here?”

  “Why artists?”

  “Smart and hungry.” He scrawled something on a blank sheet of paper with his fountain pen and presented it to Lee.

  Wanted. Artists of any kind to train for high-end server positions at new local restaurant, Riversong. No previous experience necessary but must be detail oriented, personable, and display exceptional customer service. Interest in fine wine and food a plus. Please contact the Manager at (541) 555-5970 for details and interviews.

  “Don’t put your name in the paper, just to be on the safe side.” He took his glasses off, folded the handles, and put them in his shirt pocket. “Now, the other problem is publicity.”

  Lee heard Mike’s booming voice calling her from the kitchen and a second later he came through the swinging doors. She felt Linus pop to attention. Mike stopped and took off his hat. “Who’s this now?”

  “My friend from Seattle. He came to help me with the opening.”

  “Wasn’t aware you needed help.” Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted at Linus. She saw the two men take each other in and suddenly she was seeing them as they might see each other. Mike, with his cowboy hat, ruddy sunburned skin, and a ridiculous large belt buckle the shape of Oregon: rough, unsophisticated, the type that might hate a gay man. And, Linus, with his linen suit, soft hands, his graceful way of moving and almost upper crust way of speaking: a pansy, a phony, someone you called a queer to your poker buddies.

  “Linus manages Figs Bistro in Seattle. He knows the restaurant business inside and out. Mike’s the owner of Riversong.”

  “Lee’s my partner here,” said Mike. “No offense to you, but she’s done this whole thing herself. Not sure why she’d bring you in now.”

  “I called him for advice. Figs is perfect. Because of Linus,” Lee said.

  “We do things different here than in Seattle. Lee knows that ‘cause she’s from here.”

  Linus sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “No offense, but perhaps if you tried some of our big city techniques you might have some businesses that last more than a year.”

  Mike looked at her, betrayal in his eyes. “You tell him that?”

  “What? No, he—”

  Linus interrupted her, directing his gaze at Mike. “In my experience, the most important thing in the restaurant business is good publicity before an opening. I can make a few calls, see if we can get some press from some of the Northwest foodie magazines, maybe the Oregonian.” Linus looked back and forth between them. “But we need a story to pitch.”

  Mike, his face red, crossed his arms over his chest. “That some kind of big city bullshit? We don’t need a story, just old fashioned good business.”

  “I beg to differ. It’s of the utmost importance we have a story that will prompt interest from the papers or foodie rags. Mostly for the tourist crowd. We want to create a buzz so people go out of their way to come here.”

  “I’m just a blue collar guy myself but look around. This is gonna be a special place and you—” He interrupted himself and looked at Lee. “Well, he hasn’t even tasted Annie’s grub yet.”

  Lee looked at Linus and begged him with her eyes. Play nice, please. Linus, perspiration on his forehead, gave her a hard look and looked at his feet. Then, he looked up, face composed, and flashed Mike a coy smile. “Now, don’t you play that blue collar stuff with me. I can see you know more about business than Lee and I put together.”

  Mike smiled and uncrossed his arms. “Well, I’m old as dirt, been running the mill here for forty years.”

  “Well, what you say is exactly right. But, still, the public has to know about us.”

  Mike sat and angled his chair so his full attention was directed towards Linus. “What have you come up with so far?” He rested his hands on the table.

  Linus stood and paced in front of the table, hands in the pockets of his pressed white linen pants. “I see two angles.” Linus stopped in front of them and moved his hands in the air for emphasis. “One, talented young female chef dreamt of opening her own restaurant but is the mother of a young son and chose a small town for his benefit. We talk about her vision around local ingredients. We talk about the seasonally based menu, about the serendipitous event of meeting two business people, unnamed of course, who were willing to back her idea.”

  “But that’s not what happened,” said Mike. “Lee came up with this idea, not Annie.”

  Linus took off his glasses. “The papers love stories about the chefs. It’s more compelling than the owners or managers.”

  Mike looked at him and shook his head. “If you’re right about this story thing it should be about Lee. She’s one of our own. Moved to the big city and became a bigwig, and came home after the death of her husband to start fresh with people who love her. Who understand her. If that isn’t a story I don’t know a pine tree from a cedar.”

  A picture of Von’s tobacco-stained teeth sent a shiver down Lee’s spine. She tried to keep her voice steady. “Mike, I can’t be featured in any of the publicity.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I have a good reason and I need to leave it at that. Can you trust me?”

  Mike looked at her for a long moment. “Okay, darlin’ whatever you say. I just wanted you to get the credit you deserve.”

  “How about the credit you deserve?” She looked at Linus. “Mike’s trying to save the town single handedly. That’s the real story.”

  Mike’s face relaxed and he patted Lee’s arm. “You’re a good girl, but I’m not some Hollywood starlet looking to get in the paper.” He shifted in his chair, one eyebrow lifted as his fingers tapped on the table. “Linus, what’s the o
ther angle?”

  “This one’s more of a stretch, but could be integrated with Annie’s story. I’m seeing the headlines like, ‘Best new restaurant you never heard of in the sweetest town in the West.’” He stared into space, visualizing. “Annie is just one of many young savvy talents moving in and transforming this town into a cultural oasis.”

  Mike leaned forward. “That sounds real good.”

  Lee rolled her eyes. “Our story has to be plausible.”

  Linus raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips. “Yes, it is a bit of spin. But, you’ve got the wineries here already.” Linus shrugged. “Plus, if it’s written about in that way, perhaps it might start to happen.”

  Mike jumped up from his chair and paced around the room. “Like it could attract other businesses like this one? High end? For tourists? That kind of thing?”

  Linus plopped in a chair and wiped his brow with a cloth handkerchief from his pocket. “Precisely.”

  Mike slapped his leg. “That’s just a doggone great idea.” He glanced at his watch. “Shoot, I’ve got to go. It’s payday and I like to pass out the checks myself.”

  “I do the same,” said Linus.

  “Shows respect.”

  “Exactly right,” said Linus.

  “Kids, I’ve got to go. I’m going to pay my respects to Deana. They’re having a service at the Baptist Church. Her father used to work for me out at the mill long time ago. Such a waste, the way it ended for her.”

  “Do they have any suspects?” said Lee.

  “Not a one. They’re pretty sure it was a fight over drugs. Couple of people testified she had a party that night but everyone swears she and the other guy were alive when they left. These drug people, they’re so far in the muck, we’ll probably never know what happened.” Mike gave Lee a slight smile. “But you don’t need to worry about all that. You two are the wave of the future for this town. Darlin’, good idea to bring this ol’ boy down here. Real good idea.”