Table for Two

by Brandy Bruce

  Liz nodded with a slightly mischievous grin. “I think she really likes you. Goodnight, chef!”

  Leo watched as Liz trotted over to her car and left.

  Mandy said she was my friend? She stayed after hours and helped clean my restaurant? She told Liz that my family’s special? What’s going on here?

  Confusion clouded Leo’s thoughts.

  Instead of leaving, he turned around and went back into Romano’s. Alone in the restaurant, he turned a few lights back on and walked through the dining areas slowly, taking note of every detail that his parents had personally chosen.

  On every wall, he could see his mother’s touch. He walked through the enormous kitchen and sat in a corner chair. In his mind, he could see himself as a child—not in this kitchen but the one in his family’s home in California—and he could hear his father singing as he chopped onions and tomatoes and garlic and bell peppers. Leo had grown up around the pleasing aromas of his father’s own culinary creations. Those smells reminded him of home, family, love, happiness. He could picture perfectly his dad’s steady hands pulling homemade bread from the oven, the scent filling the house and making Leo’s stomach rumble.

  And he could hear his father’s voice saying, Leo, see this fine bread? Jesus is the bread of life. Do you know why I love the fact that Jesus is referred to as the bread of life? Because not only does bread sustain us, which it does, of course, by giving us life, keeping us going, and giving us strength; but the beauty is that it also tastes good. It smells good. It is good. Bread is for us to enjoy. It’s a blessing, a comfort. That’s who Jesus is, Leo. Never forget. He’s the bread of life. Taste and see that the Lord is good!

  Leo rolled those words back over in his mind. His father had such unwavering faith. And yet despite that faith, his health was deteriorating. Eventually, Leo would lose him. That realization made Leo’s own faith wobble and wane. Why was God letting this happen? Leo wanted to yell and pound his fists on the countertop. But he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if venting his frustration was considered prayer, but his thoughts poured from his heart, directed straight to God.

  While I’m on the subject of why—why did Carol Ann walk away from our relationship? Why did I waste years on loving her when it wouldn’t last? Why do I feel pushed into a corner, living a life that feels as though it’s been chosen for me?

  Leo sat in silence, waiting for answers that never came.

  Chapter 6

  Monday evening after sitting in strategy and update meetings and catching up on two reviews, Mandy put her coat on and prepared to go home and unwind.

  “Mandy! Wait up!”

  Mandy stopped by Beth’s desk.

  “Beth? What’s up?”

  “You just got a call from Leonardo Romano. I didn’t want to give him your cell number without your permission.”

  Mandy’s eyes widened. “What did he say? What did he want?”

  “To talk to you! But since you were in a meeting and I wouldn’t give him your number, he left his and asked if you would call him. Here, take this.” Beth handed Mandy a yellow sticky note. “Call him. He sounds nice.”

  Mandy looked down at the note in her hand and her heart pounded.

  The next morning, Mandy drank a cappuccino and glanced again at the yellow note on her kitchen table. She planned to spend the morning writing reviews from the comfort of her home in the comfort of her pajamas. A rat-tat-tat knock sounded at her door, followed by Ashley barging into her apartment.

  “I brought doughnuts!” she called out, dropping the box on the counter and helping herself to the cappuccino maker.

  “I haven’t called him yet.”

  “What?” Ashley’s jaw dropped. “I thought you were going to call him last night.”

  “It seemed too desperate to call him immediately.”

  With a frustrated grunt, Ashley pulled out a chair from the table and plopped down. “You are desperate, honey. Remember?”

  “No, I’d forgotten. Thank you for reminding me,” Mandy retorted.

  “No problem,” Ashley replied sweetly. “Now, call him.”

  “Right now?”

  “Now or never. C’mon, I’ll help you through it.”

  Mandy seriously doubted whether Ashley would be any help, but she punched the number into her cell phone and waited.

  “Hello?”

  “Leo?”

  “Is that him?” Ashley whispered. Mandy held up her hand to silence her.

  “Mandy?”

  “It’s me,” she replied, then whispered to Ashley, “It’s him.”

  “So you got my message,” Leo said. Mandy thought he sounded a little nervous.

  “What did he say?” Ashley whispered again. Mandy rolled her eyes.

  “Nothing!” she whispered loudly.

  “Um, are you talking to me?” Leo asked. Mandy slapped her hand across her mouth and then mouthed to Ashley, “Stay here,” and disappeared into her bedroom.

  “Sorry, no, I wasn’t. But I am now. Yes, I got your message. I was glad you called.” Mandy sat on the bed and traced the patches on her quilt with her index finger.

  “You were?” he sounded unconvinced.

  “Well, yes. Thank you for the flowers.”

  “Thank you for such a good review.”

  “No problem. It was the truth.”

  “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mandy’s words were followed by the most awkward silence she’d ever experienced.

  “I guess—”

  “I was wondering—”

  “What were you going to say?” Mandy asked quickly.

  “No, you go ahead,” Leo said.

  “No, you,” Mandy insisted, feeling as if they were in high school.

  “I’m sorry about the way things ended between us, Mandy. I’m not usually so temperamental.”

  Mandy could hear the sincerity in his apology this time. And she felt all the anger seep out of her. “Me, either. And I’m sorry, too.”

  “So what do you say? Should we try one more time?”

  Mandy laughed. “I’m willing if you are.”

  “Excellent. I’m afraid that weekend evenings are my busiest. Would tomorrow evening work for you?”

  “Tomorrow would be great, Leo. Where would you like to go?”

  “Your choice, but I’m paying.”

  Mandy smiled. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Wednesday morning, Leo sat nervously by his father, watching him sign the paperwork that would undoubtedly cause Leo’s current stress level to skyrocket. The room was silent except for the family’s attorney turning page after page, showing Gabriel where to sign in the enormous stack of papers. Leo knew his turn was coming and it made him sweat.

  Should I sign? It’s not like I really have a choice at this point. I told Dad I’d do this for him. It’s such a big undertaking, though...and I know restaurant life. It takes over. I’ll never have any personal time.

  Leo’s attention jerked back to his father as his pen fell to the floor. He checked his dad’s hands and felt pain as he saw how badly they had started trembling.

  “No, no!” his father insisted, when the attorney offered to take a break. “I want to finish this. I’ll be fine.”

  Leo remained silent. Numbness seemed to spread through him, which he preferred to feeling overly stressed, fearful, nervous and resentful. For some strange reason, Carol Ann entered his thoughts. He thought of the night she’d stood in front of him, crying, as she’d handed him the ring that he was too shocked to take. She’d had to place it in his hand and fold his fingers over it.

  I just can’t do this, Leo.

  And now he was taking on even more responsibility, responsibility that would require a greater
commitment. Once he signed these papers, he was locked into restaurant life, something Carol Ann had never been able to get used to. She’d resented how much time he’d spent helping his father at the Franklin location. And what about Mandy? Would he ever have time to get to know her now? Would this be the end of their fledgling relationship?

  “All right, Leonardo, it’s your turn,” their attorney said. “The next generation of Romanos takes over.”

  Leo sat up and reached for his father’s pen.

  Father God, please help me do this.

  * * *

  Wednesday afternoon, Mandy sat at her home desk and twirled her hair around her finger, staring at the blank screen on her computer. She hated writing bad reviews. Hated it. But sometimes she just couldn’t find a way around it. She started typing:

  The Steak Shack’s fifties decor is fun and...

  And my cheeseburger was undercooked. The waitress serving me obviously hates her life. My chocolate milkshake was watery. The bathroom needed to be cleaned. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera!

  Mandy shut her laptop fiercely, deciding to work on her column when she wasn’t so distracted. She checked her watch again. In two hours, she was meeting Leo for their third try at a date. And this time, she was determined to at least refrain from calling him a liar and walking out. She took special care with her hair and makeup. Ashley called several times, offering suggestions for what Mandy should wear, how she should act and what she should say. While her advice could be trying, talking to Ashley helped Mandy feel less nervous.

  At ten to seven, Mandy walked through the door of El Camino Blanco, her favorite Mexican restaurant in the heart of Denver.

  The hostess smiled at her. “Miss Seymour, your table is ready. We’re so glad to have you tonight.”

  “Thank you, Amelia. Did Javier tell you—”

  “Oh, yes. Don’t worry. We’ve got your favorite table ready for you.”

  “Mandy?”

  Mandy turned at the sound of Leo’s voice. She couldn’t stop the smile that came to her face. His dark hair framed his face and his loose, black shirt looked great against his olive complexion. And the lack of tension and anger between them already made this meeting a hundred times better than their previous encounter.

  “Hi, Leo,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice the quaver in her voice.

  “Follow me,” Amelia said.

  “Have you ever been here before?” Mandy asked. Leo shook his head.

  “I thought I knew all the good places in Denver, but I think you probably have me beat on that.”

  As Mandy slid into the booth across from Leo, she shrugged. “I sort of have an advantage, I guess, when it comes to knowing about all the good places to eat.”

  Leo looked at the surrounding area. “This is an interesting restaurant.”

  Mandy nodded, not mentioning that she’d called ahead and asked the owner, Javier, for a favor, which he was happy to oblige since Mandy had written several starred reviews for him.

  El Camino Blanco was a tiny restaurant. The walls were covered with sombreros, Mexican flags and paintings created by Javier’s wife. The booth tucked away in the corner where Mandy and Leo were seated was the best seat in the house; it offered privacy in an otherwise crowded space.

  Their waiter, Victor, whom Mandy also knew by name, came to the table, balancing water and two plates on his tray. He set a pitcher of water between them and a covered dish of warm, freshly made flour tortillas, along with a dish of melted butter.

  “Nice to see you, Miss Seymour. Your meal should be ready momentarily.”

  Leo looked across the table in surprise.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered ahead for us.”

  “Not at all. I trust your judgment.”

  Mandy tore a tortilla in half and dipped it into the butter. “Try this. You’ll love it.”

  Leo did the same, a slow smile creeping onto his face. “I think I could eat a dozen of these tortillas by myself.”

  Mandy shook her head. “Oh, no, Mr. Romano. You have to share with me.”

  He caught her gaze and held it. Mandy cleared her throat nervously and tore another tortilla in half.

  “So tell me—why another Romano’s?” Mandy asked. Leo was quiet for several moments before answering.

  “It’s my father’s gift to me, I guess you could say.”

  Mandy looked up with interest. “Really?”

  “And it’s my gift to him.”

  Now Mandy was really interested. “How so?”

  Leo looked at her seriously. “This conversation is between us alone, correct? Nothing would ever end up in one of your columns?”

  Mandy chose not to be offended by that insinuation. “Of course not.”

  He nodded. “My father has Parkinson’s disease. This is something that he’s been struggling with for a while, but the effects were minimal for a long time and didn’t interfere much with his daily life. However, over the past few months, the symptoms have started progressing. He’s still in relatively good health, but it’s clear this path is one that will get worse over time. And it’s obvious he needs to make adjustments to his schedule and lifestyle in order to stay as healthy as he can for as long as he can.

  “Having said that, I think my dad has always wanted me to have a restaurant of my own—one that would reflect my tastes and preferences. But it was never seriously discussed until several months ago. My dad’s suggestion to open another Romano’s came at a time when I was feeling a bit lost. I had been engaged, and the engagement ended. My father thought it would help...distract me, I guess. He wanted us to do this endeavor together. It was important to him. So we did.”

  “It was important to him,” Mandy repeated. “And you?” she asked. The conflicted look in Leo’s expression didn’t escape her.

  “To me, too. For different reasons, but it was and is important to me. Cooking has been my passion for a long time. Going to culinary school was my choice. I knew I wanted to cook as my profession—but I guess I never really hoped to own my own restaurant. All my life, I’ve seen how much responsibility that was for my father. I would be content just running a kitchen without the added stress of ownership.

  “Anyway, that’s not how things have ended up. I’ve taken over the Franklin Romano’s. I actually signed the paperwork this morning, making it official. I’m already looking for a head chef for my Romano’s.”

  Mandy inhaled sharply. “You’re running the Franklin Romano’s? Your father is—”

  “Has retired. It’s time. His health can’t take the stress of running the restaurants. He hasn’t been cooking for a long time, of course. He has very capable staff to run his kitchens. But the administrative side of running a restaurant is even more stressful than managing a kitchen. He can’t do it any longer.”

  “That’s going to be a lot of stress on you now, I imagine,” Mandy said, wishing she could reach over and touch Leo’s hand.

  He took a sip of water. Mandy watched as the condensation ran down the glass.

  “With God’s help, I can do it,” he responded.

  Victor returned at that moment, followed by another waiter, both holding trays filled with food. Fiery, mouthwatering smells filled the air around them.

  “We have the seafood enchiladas wrapped in blue corn tortillas with refried beans and rice, the chicken tostadas with black-bean-and-corn salsa and the pork tamales with green chili.”

  The waiter set the platters between them and left two plates so they could share the dishes. Mandy asked if Leo would mind if she prayed before they ate. Her simple yet sincere prayer calmed the anxiety in Leo. She finished the prayer and reached for the platter of enchiladas. For a moment Leo just watched her, knowing he didn’t want that to be the last time he ever heard Mandy Seymour pray. He wanted to share more mea
ls with her. He wanted to hear her pray, and to talk with her as they were now, quietly over dinner.

  The thought took him by surprise.

  Leo took a bite of tamale and enjoyed the spicy taste slowly.

  “I can tell this is going to be a meal to remember. Promise me, Mandy, that you’ll take me to all of your favorite restaurants.”

  Mandy lifted a tostada to her lips. “We’ll see. I’ve got a lot of favorites.”

  Half an hour later, Leo leaned back, feeling so full he had no idea how he could eat another bite. But when their waiter placed a dish with warm sopaipillas and honey on the table, he couldn’t help himself. He followed Mandy’s lead and dipped a corner of a sopaipilla into the honey.

  “This is incredible,” he said and Mandy nodded.

  “This was the first restaurant I ever wrote a review for.”

  Leo looked at her in surprise. “Really? When was that?”

  Mandy looked past him, scanning the small restaurant. “A few years ago. It was so easy to write the review. I loved everything they served me, and have ever since. I’ve tried everything on the menu. Javier, the owner, is an amazing cook. He immigrated to Denver from Mexico when he was nineteen, alone, without his family. He started this restaurant when he was just twenty-one years old.”

  Leo leaned forward. He liked the faraway look in Mandy’s eyes as she told Javier’s story.

  “What made you become a food critic, Mandy?” he asked. She laughed nervously and he could see the discomfiture on her face.

  “I love food. Can’t you tell?”

  He frowned. He hadn’t wanted to make her feel embarrassed.

  “So do I.”

  She stirred her cup of coffee. “It’s different for you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked. But she just shook her head.

  “It just is. Next question.”

  Leo decided not to press the issue. Not yet, anyway. “All right. Where did this love of food come from?”

  Mandy stared down at the table. “My mother, I guess. Though she’d probably hate it if she knew I’d said that.” Mandy was obviously uncomfortable with the subject, but Leo wasn’t quite ready to move on.