by Andrea Hurst
It had been a long day. Jude felt like she’d been on an emotional roller coaster that never returned to the station. And it wasn’t over yet. She turned on the bedside lights, propped up her pillows, climbed in under her silk duvet cover, and waited for Lindsey.
“Hi, Mom,” Lindsey said from the doorway. “Can I join you?”
Jude patted the side of her bed. “Come in under the covers, like you used to when you were little.”
Lindsey smiled. “When you told me bedtime stories.”
Jude wished that was all she was telling Lindsey tonight. After her daughter was cozy and snug in the bed next to her, Jude began. “Are you sure you want the whole story?”
Lindsey nodded. Jude stroked Lindsey’s fine hair. She could still see the little girl inside her, and she wished she could spare Lindsey the truth, but that was exactly what had gotten them here. She looked at the pictures of Lindsey on the wall, her first birthday, the Christmas parade, and so many more until Lindsey had left with her father.
“From the beginning then,” Jude said. “When I found out I was pregnant with you, we’d only been married a short while, but we were both very excited. Your dad bought us a nice house in Bellevue, with a fenced yard and a bright nursery for you. I thought he’d settle down after you were born, and we’d be a happy family of three. But he wasn’t even there for your birth. His mother, your grandmother, came and made some excuse.”
“You must have felt so alone,” Lindsey said.
“I did, but I talked myself out of it after Mitchell came home with flowers and excuses. Instead, I focused on how beautiful you were, and motherhood was everything I’d ever dreamed of.” Jude remembered holding Lindsey in her arms and watching her blessedly sleep. Her old rocker was still in the corner of her bedroom draped with a hand-knit shawl made by her own mother.
Jude took Lindsey’s hand. “You started having colic, and couldn’t eat without throwing up. Nothing calmed you. You couldn’t sleep, and neither could I. I was sure it was my fault somehow, but the doctor said there wasn’t much that could be done about it.”
Lindsey squeezed Jude’s hand. “I bet you were exhausted. Where was Dad during all of this?”
“To be honest,” Jude said, “Mitchell started staying out later and later, spending nights at his parents’ so he could sleep. Your grandmother said they’d pay for a nanny to come and help a couple days a week. But I didn’t want a stranger, I wanted my husband.”
Jude reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay, Mom, cry all you need to. I would have. What did you ever see in Dad?”
“I was young when I met him. He swept me off my feet. He introduced me to sailing, fine food, and good wine. He’d grown up with only the best. But when we settled into the suburbs, he rebelled. He was used to being free and doing whatever he wanted. It took the worst night of my life to realize exactly what I’d gotten myself into.”
Lindsey put her head on Jude’s shoulder. “It must have been so hard.”
Jude touched her head to Lindsey’s and closed her eyes to enjoy the moment of having her daughter beside her again. “Just know,” she said, “you were all that really mattered to me. Still are.”
Lindsey nudged in closer. “Is that when you made the agreement?”
“Yes,” Jude said. “One night, after a particularly exhausting week, Mitchell didn’t come home at all. When he finally did, he was bruised and bleeding and said he’d been in a car accident. Everything changed after that. I found the police report that showed Mitchell had been driving drunk and hit a young boy on a bike.”
“What . . . what happened to the kid?”
“Both of his legs were broken. Your dad’s family made a private settlement with the boy’s family to cover it up and keep it from getting out to the public. As you know from what Ryan told you, he was with another woman too. After I found the police report, I confronted him with my knowledge. He threatened to take everything from me if I told a soul. And perhaps, he said, it was time for me to leave.”
Jude paused, remembering the horrible confrontation. All Mitchell’s parents had cared about was protecting their precious son’s reputation. They were fine with buying Jude off with the building they owned on Madrona Island, even if it meant losing touch with their only grandchild. Jude decided to leave that part out; it would only hurt Lindsey more.
“So we moved here,” Jude said, forcing a light tone. “Your grandparents signed over this property in Grandview as a divorce settlement so you and I could live in the apartment and remodel the café below. I always loved to cook, and I thought it would be a peaceful, friendly, safe town to raise you in.”
“So that’s why I hardly ever saw Dad or my grandparents. They didn’t bother to come over and were happy we were far away.”
Jude cringed. It was the truth, but it cut deep. “You can see why I kept some of this from you.”
Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut. Jude watched her daughter’s chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths and processed her feelings. She opened her eyes and tears streaked across her cheek. “Did Dad ever tell the truth?”
“I don’t know, Lindsey. I do think he loves you in his own way though.”
“Maybe. Right now I just want some time away from him.” Lindsey turned to Jude. “It must have hurt so much when I left the island to go live with him. I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t be,” Jude said. “You were just being a normal teenager. Your best friend had moved away and you were restless on the island. Your Dad lavished you with expensive presents, took you out on his yacht, and then to Europe. I wasn’t surprised you were enchanted by the prospect of an exciting new life. You would have hated me if I stood in your way, and in the end, despite my pain over losing you, I wondered if it might be the best thing for you after all. He could offer you so much, private schools, top notch colleges, and the excitement you craved. It took everything in me to let go.”
“I don’t know how you did it. And how I could do what I did.”
“We’re together now,” Jude said. “Things worked out. Island Thyme Café thrived and the town rallied around me. It may not be the most exciting town, but people here care about each other, support each other, and tell me my mochas always cheer them up.”
Lindsey laughed. “You do make the best mochas ever.”
“Thanks. Maggie, who owned Madrona Island Bed and Breakfast, was my first true friend. I miss her.”
“I remember her brownies the most,” Lindsey said.
“After you left, I closed down the café and stayed with Maggie for a few days.” Jude remembered that first morning after Lindsey went off with her father. It was so quiet. Jude’s passion for living, for the café, her passion for everything came crashing down while sadness and the emptiness engulfed her. Jude, the upbeat one with the smile that everyone in town came to see at the cafe. Jude, the one who always saw the good in everything, now saw nothing but darkness.
“I wish you could have known Maggie better,” Jude said. “She gave me the best room in the inn, the honeymoon suite with a frilly canopy bed, a soaking tub, and a gorgeous view of the water.”
“I’m so glad you had friends like that,” Lindsey said.
“I don’t know what I’d have done without Maggie, or what I’d do without Kyla and Lily now.” Jude leaned back into the down pillows and remembered the trays waiting outside the B&B suite each morning with fresh brewed coffee, home-baked scones, scrumptious egg dishes, and a little hand-written upbeat message from Maggie. In the afternoons, they’d walked the beach and talked about their children, life, and love. And Jude had healed slowly from the inside. Before she left to go back home, Jude had written in the B&B guestbook:
Thank you, Maggie, for all that you do for everyone lucky enough to know you, and for me. I’ll never forget it.
Jude neve
r had. She’d gone back to work and thrown her heart and soul into expanding Island Time Café. Once in a while she’d think about finding love again one day and hoped that Lindsey would want to come back. And here she finally was.
Lindsey put an arm around Jude’s shoulder. “We’re in this together now. All four of us.”
And Jude knew her daughter had finally come home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryan laid out the homemade potato buns on the counter in preparation for the day’s chicken thyme sandwich special.
“The grill is hot and ready,” Lindsey said as she handed Ryan the garlic butter to brush across them before grilling them.
“I have a favor to ask,” he said.
“Sure. What?”
Ryan finished buttering the insides of the buns and placed his knife on the cutting counter. “Do you think you can get your mom out of the restaurant Tuesday afternoon before our date night?”
Lindsey smiled and narrowed her eyes. “Just what do you have planned?”
“Obviously a surprise,” he said.
She gave him a pleading look. “And you won’t tell me? I won’t breathe a word.”
“I’ll just say I will be preparing something special for your mother, and I don’t want her to find out until dinner.”
“I thought you were taking her out to that French place off island?”
“We are. Dessert is another matter.” Ryan had sketched out the design and bought baking paper and a clean paintbrush and wooden ruler. Now he just had to prepare it and chill it and hide it from Jude.
“Two specials, salad instead of fries,” a waitress yelled into the kitchen, leaving the check on the assembly area Ryan had set up for smoother service.
Ryan raised the burners under the cast iron skillet and put two marinated chicken breasts into the sizzling oil. “Let’s go Lindsey, we have some hungry customers and more coming.”
The café was busier than it had ever been. The town had gained some notoriety after the movie shoot, and tourists poured in. Labor Day Weekend was the culmination of summer, and after that he hoped business would slow a little. Jude needed more rest, and the profits from summer would allow them to be open fewer days each week for the winter season. He looked over at Lindsey, who had become invaluable in the kitchen. He would miss her.
“How’s your packing coming along?” Ryan asked. She was leaving for school in a week, and Jude had taken her shopping for clothes and supplies. Mitchell had sent a cursory apology in an email and told Lindsey her tuition would be covered until she graduated.
Lindsey looked up from her station and brushed the hair off her forehead. “I had to buy another suitcase to put everything in.”
“I bet you didn’t mind that,” Ryan said, grinning. “Are you planning on taking any photography classes? You have the eye of a pro.”
He loved seeing that grin spread across her face. “I’m going to try to add some at least for winter quarter. Speaking of pictures, any word from your agent?”
Ryan flipped over the chicken and inhaled the scent of garlic and thyme. His stomach groaned for lunch, but that would have to wait until the rush slowed down. “Actually, I have a call scheduled with her Tuesday morning, after she gets back from the holiday weekend. She said she had news about the cookbook.”
Jude pushed open the kitchen door looking a bit frantic. “Party of ten just sat down. Thought I’d warn you.”
Ryan saluted. “Got it boss.” He felt invigorated just seeing her sweet face and knowing this was his life now.
“The chicken’s ready.” Lindsey pointed to the pan. “And don’t worry, I’ll book a little Mom and daughter bonding day over mani & pedis to make sure I keep her out of the restaurant all of Tuesday afternoon.”
Jude put on one of the new, loose dresses she’d bought when she was out shopping with Lindsey today. Lindsey had fixed her hair into a fancy updo, and she liked the new look. Her nails matched the rosy trim on the sleeves, and her toenails sparkled from her sandals. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Tonight was her first date night with Ryan since he’d mentioned marriage.
The knock at the front door had her heart pounding like her first high school crush. Ryan, dressed sharply in all black, stepped in holding a sizeable bouquet of yellow and orange sunflowers. “For you,” he said.
Jude held the flowers close. “I love these colors. They’re so happy.”
“As am I,” Ryan said. “And I hope you are too.”
Jude leaned over the flowers and kissed him. “I am, very happy.”
“I better get them in water,” Jude said.
“Then we can head out,” Ryan said. “We have a bit of a drive ahead of us and a seven o’clock reservation.”
As they made their way off island, Jude looked out the passenger window admiring the Madrona trees lining the slope down to the cove. She glanced over at Ryan’s profile. He looked especially handsome in a dark, button-down shirt. His sun-streaked hair was pulled back into a ponytail that rested over his collar. The musky scent of his aftershave lingered between them. It was hard to believe this was really happening to her. This man loved her, and she him.
Ryan pulled into a parking lot Jude had never been to before. The restaurant looked like a Chalet straight out of the French countryside. Red flowers draped over window boxes at the entrance. Fragrant smells and soft music greeted them as they walked in. The dining room was filled with dark wood booths and tables. Blue and white tablecloths were complemented with flickering candles and glass vases filled with fresh daisies.
“I hope it’s as good as it smells.” Jude said.
Ryan winked. “Better.”
She glanced down at the pink bakery box Ryan had carried in. She wanted to ask, but said nothing . . . yet.
The hostess smiled when Ryan gave their name and took them to a private table in the corner by a window. Ryan handed her the mystery box, and she nodded and took it back toward the kitchen.
Ryan winked at Jude. “Later.”
A bottle of what looked like champagne was chilling at the table, and noticeably missing were menus. “I see you have this well planned,” Jude said. His grin and sparkling eyes let her know she was right.
The waiter, French accent and all, uncorked the bubbly gently. It released a soft hiss. He poured some for Ryan’s approval. After he nodded, the waiter poured the fizzing golden liquid into their tulip-shaped glasses. Ryan held his up for a toast.
“It is Chateau De Fleur Non-alcoholic Sparkling Wine Champagne,” he said clicking his glass to hers.
The champagne tasted slightly floral with hints of spice. It melted down her throat. “Magical,” Jude said between sips.
“The chef is serving us his special seven-course menu tonight,” Ryan said.
“It’s a good thing I had a light lunch.”
The hors d’oeuvres started with Oysters Mignon on the Half Shell, followed by, as the waiter said, “Coquilles St-Jacques, gratineed scallops. The courses just kept coming, one more magnificent than the next: Salade Lyonnaise with hard boiled eggs, cheesy French Onion Soup, and the restaurant’s signature entrée, Coq Au Vin.
Jude rubbed her stomach. “This is one of the best meals I’ve ever had.” She placed her fork down on the table after two hours of fine dining. “Thank you for arranging this. It was very special.”
“I hope you left room for dessert,” Ryan said grinning. He motioned to the waiter and asked for espressos for two, and to make one decaf.
“Oh Ryan. I’m going to gain too much weight eating like this while I’m pregnant. At least can we wait a bit?”
“No problem,” he said. “And don’t worry, after this I’ll make sure I only make you the healthiest meals.”
They sipped their coffee, and Jude thought about all the things they had overcome together in so short a time. Now they had so much to look
forward to.
“I have some news to tell you,” Ryan said.
Jude’s breath caught.
“So,” he said, “remember I told you about the literary agent pitching the Island Thyme Cookbook? We got a book deal!”
Jude exhaled unaware she’d been holding her breath. “We?” she asked. “Congratulations to you!”
Ryan reached across the table and took her hands. “It’s your café and our cookbook. I’ll write it and we can share the profits.”
“That is so sweet, Ryan. Thank you.”
“One other thing.” He sipped the cappuccino and put the cup down before looking her in the eye. “One of the top five-star restaurants in New York offered me a position as executive chef.”
She held her breath, willing the room to stop spinning.
“Jude,” Ryan said. He tipped up her chin so that she would look into his eyes. “The reason I’m telling you this is because I replied with a resounding no! As I will to anything that could ever takes me away from you.”
She took his hand to her lips and kissed it. “You had me worried for a second.”
Ryan nodded to the waiter. “Jude, from now on, I will do everything in my power to wash all your worries away.”
With that the waiter walked out with the pink box and laid it in front of Ryan with a small plate. Ceremoniously, Ryan opened and brought out a handmade dark chocolate box and placed it gingerly on the plate between them. “I made this for you,” he said.
It must have taken him hours to make. He had decorated the box with carved red hearts and white diamond shapes. The chocolate was smooth, perfectly formed.
Ryan lifted off the lid, took something out, and placed it in his hand. Then, as Jude watched, heart pounding, Ryan got down on his knees before her.
“Jude, will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?” He opened his hand revealing a braided golden ring with diamonds sparking throughout.
Between happy tears, Jude said. “I will, I absolutely will.”
Ryan stood and placed the ring on her finger and the whole restaurant broke out in applause. He threw his arms around her and sealed the engagement with a kiss.
