Homecoming in November (The Calendar Girls Book 3)

by Gina Ardito

  A real fear they might be right shuddered through me and nearly brought me to my knees. Once again, that itch in the back of my throat made me long for a shot. It didn’t have to be vodka. It could be tequila, rum, even a frosty beer would slake my need.

  No. It wasn’t about to happen. I was a different person now. I’d faced my demons head-on and come out on the other side, grateful and determined to make my life mean something. The fear was always there, hovering, ready to toss me into the darkness again. I’d spend the rest of my life beating it back, but I’d fight sober. And I’d stay sober. No matter what.

  What would happen when the novelty of this new place and the new me wore off? Would we still see these kinds of crowds? Or would I disappoint my aunt and uncle once again? This time, financially destroying them at the same time.

  Positive, I told myself. Think positive thoughts.

  I reached Table Six where the Murrieres waited patiently for their treats. “Here you go,” I said, removing the plates and cups one by one from my tray to the table. “One Earl Grey, one Darjeeling, half a dozen Napoleons, and one hot chocolate for Ariana.” The little girl looked up at me and smiled while her mom, cradling the family’s newborn son, thanked me. “Enjoy.”

  I was aimed for Table Eight to take another order when Nia’s guy, Aidan, brushed past me with his own tray, filled with dirty dishes and cups. “Looks like you’ve got a hit on your hands. What a crowd. Be sure to remember the little people who helped you out when you’re a rich and famous restauranteur, okay?”

  “Ha ha. Very funny.” I liked Aidan. He was sweet and kind and great for Nia, who had a tendency to stress over stupid stuff way too much. Both tall, good looking, and smart, they complemented each other like salt and pepper shakers. Aidan brought out Nia’s lighthearted side. I had no idea what Nia brought out in Aidan. But she had to do something for him. The two of them practically glowed whenever they were near each other.

  “Relax,” he said. “You’ve got opening day jitters. Remember what I told you about what Nia did to me the night before my opening day at the vineyard?”

  I remembered the story he told me last evening and found my first real smile of the day. I might not have slept well, but at least I slept in my own bed instead of in the local drunk tank like he did.

  “That’s better,” he said to me. “Now, go get ‘em. You’re doing great.”

  “Thanks, Aidan.”

  God, he was such a sweetheart! A twinge of jealousy pricked me, but I sucked the disloyalty back. Although we’d been friends since second grade, I’d always envied Nia and Paige. They were twins, grew up together, stood by each other, and, up until a year ago or so, had a dad who’d adored them. Their mom had skipped town with some rich visiting tourist when the girls were kids, but so what? That just meant their family wasn’t perfect. Nobody’s family was. But the Wainwrights stuck together through the hard times. Their dad didn’t shoot their mother in the face to make her stay. The way mine had.

  I shook off the ugly memory and clutched my medallion to find peace before tending to my next group of customers. Once I’d rebalanced my teeter-totter emotions, I headed to Table Eight. “Welcome to Tea and Tidbits. I’m Terri—” I began, but Evan Rugerman cut me off.

  “Bellisima!” He took my hand, kissed the back, and continued in the same fake Italian accent. “You look wonderful, cara. Don’t you think, Dom?”

  “Absolutely.” Dr. Bautista took my hand in his and yanked down, pulling me closer so he could whisper in my ear. “Sobriety seems to agree with you, Terri. Your eyes are clear, your complexion is rosy, and you seem…” I pulled away to stand up straight, and he took the time to study me from head to toe. “…happy.”

  Leave it to a doctor to notice those things. Of course, Dr. Bautista was a veterinarian, so I supposed I should be grateful he didn’t pat my head and shove a biscuit in my mouth—or a thermometer somewhere less pleasant.

  “I am happy,” I replied and I realized I meant it. Since getting sober, every day was a challenge, but I no longer woke up with a raging headache, cotton mouth, and a dread of what I’d hear about the previous night’s antics—my daily routine from the age of twelve onward.

  “How are the canelès?” Evan asked.

  “To die for,” I admitted.

  “Okay then,” he replied with a grin. “We’ll have your triple treat platter with canelès, macarons, and mini-eclairs.”

  “And a pot of jasmine tea,” Dr. Bautista added.

  “You got it.” I took their menus and tucked them under my arm, then stopped at Table Twelve to ask my customers there how they were doing. Receiving an enthusiastic thumbs-up, I felt an unfamiliar glimmer inside: hope. For years, panic and self-doubt had dogged my every step. Today, I’d ditched my constant companions.

  I spotted Aunt Andrea’s steel gray head through the window in the kitchen door. Impulse took over. On light as air steps, I sailed into the busy prep area and grabbed her in a hug.

  “Oh!” Startled by my sudden attack, Aunt Andrea stumbled backward, her hands nearly upending the stainless bowl at her station with a loud clatter. “Teresa? Honey?” She wrapped her arms around my waist, her expression drenched in concern. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s wonderful. Thanks to you. And Uncle Larry.”

  I sashayed back to the dining room to take care of my customers, a warm glow still infusing me from the inside out.

  ♥♥♥♥

  Jayne

  “What do you think?”

  Dom’s question jolted me, and I looked up, my mind a blank. At the time, I was cleaning years of tartar off the teeth of an Old English sheepdog, so I figured my brain blip could be excused. “Think about what?”

  “Thanksgiving. Evan and I are hosting his family, and I’m asking you to join us.”

  “Oh, umm…wow. Umm…” Shoot. November meant Thanksgiving, the family-est of family holidays. How was I going to get out of this one?

  Above his surgical mask, his eyes crinkled enough for me to realize he was smiling at me. “Don’t answer now, Jayne. I just want you to know the offer’s out there for you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” I relaxed. Thank God, Dom knew me so well. He wouldn’t pressure me, and he wouldn’t take offense when I eventually turned down his invitation. Still finding my way in my new groove, I wasn’t ready to figure out holidays yet.

  “You’re welcome.”

  We worked together in a comfortable silence for a few minutes—him, monitoring the sedated furbaby’s vitals, while I scraped, polished, and applied gel to affected areas. “Dom?” I kept my gaze focused on my task as I spoke.

  “Yeah?”

  “Does Evan know?”

  “About Thanksgiving dinner? Of course.”

  I glared up at him. “You know what I’m asking.”

  His dark-eyed gaze grew solemn and sincere above the hem of his mask. “Yes, I know. And no, he doesn’t. It’s your story. If you decide to share it, I’m sure he wouldn’t think any different of you. But if you want to keep it between us, it stays there. No one else needs to know.”

  I couldn’t stifle the relief that flooded through me, but a twinge of guilt pricked my conscience. “Does that cause any friction between the two of you?”

  “Why would it? You know, Jayne, this might be hard for you to believe, what with all you’ve been through, but around here, you’re not a cause célébre. Most people just take you at face value. Including Evan.”

  “I know. I’m still trying to get used to that idea.”

  He clapped a gloved hand on mine, the one without the buzzing dental instrument, and squeezed. “You need to learn to relax again. Be the Jayne I met all those years ago. You’re safe here. I promise. You should start getting out. Go into town, meet people. Snuggies are the best friends to have.”

  “Snuggies?”

  “Snug Harbor natives. That’s what we call ourselves. We’re good people. Reliable. Trustworthy. Loyal. And the best of us is Iggy Zemski.” />
  I stiffened at the mention of the man’s name. “What did he say to you?”

  “That he was interested in getting to know you. Wanted to know how I knew you, were you single, the usual stuff. Nothing malevolent, I swear.”

  I wasn’t so easily mollified. Luckily, my hygienic mask gave me freedom to indulge my fears without revealing the full panic to Dominic. “What’d you tell him?”

  “An abbreviated version of the truth. I knew you from vet school. You were looking for a job in a new location; I was looking for a new associate. Fate brought us back together.”

  “Was he satisfied with that explanation?”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? I told you. We’re face-value people here.”

  “He makes me nervous,” I admitted. “Something about the way he looks at me.”

  “Like he’s interested in you?”

  Finished with Shep’s procedure, I turned off the dental instruments and set the curettes aside for cleaning and sterilization. “Like he’s too interested.”

  “He wants to ask you out.”

  “He already did. I said no.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, you know. Evan and I went to the new tea shop in the village yesterday. It’s a great little place for two people to get to know each other in a cozy setting. You should check it out. Let Iggy take you there.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe he asked you about me. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re attractive and he sees something unique in you.”

  “What he might see in me is what terrifies me.”

  He laughed. “You don’t exactly wear a big sign around your neck that says, ‘My husband arranged his own death, and the killer tried to pin it on me.’”

  “Sssh!” I frantically pointed at the closed exam room door, indicating the possibility of Becky or Miranda hovering within earshot.

  “They’re out to lunch,” Dominic said. “And the waiting room’s empty. It’s just you and me here.”

  “Still, I’d rather you didn’t talk about it at all, okay? Not even as a joke.”

  “Okay. I understand.”

  We worked in an uncomfortable silence until I finally let the dam break. “He’s dead.”

  Dom looked up at me, his eyes narrowed with concern. “Who? Pittman?” I nodded. “Good riddance. Now, maybe you can stop punishing yourself for something you had no control over. Which brings me back to Iggy.”

  I grimaced. “Let’s not go there. Please. I’m not interested in dating Iggy Zemski. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’ve been down that road, remember? Drove off the cliff. Metaphorically speaking.”

  “Iggy’s nothing like David.”

  “And the David I dated was nothing like the David I married,” I replied on a huge, defeated sigh. “I spend a lot of time these days wondering what I did to change him.”

  “What makes you think you were responsible for any change in him?”

  “People I’d known all my life were willing to think the worst of me when David died. I’m talking childhood friends, neighbors, teachers.”

  “Small town people with small minds,” he remarked with a wave of his hand as he peeled off his gloves.

  “No, they’re not. They’re like your ‘Snuggies.’ Hardworking, reliable, trustworthy. These are people I’ve known since my family moved to Ohio when I was three. For God’s sake, even my parents are on the fence about me. That has to mean they see something in me I’ve never noticed. Some…darkness.” I shook my head again, lifted Shep off the exam table and carried him toward the holding area in the back room. “Trust me. I’m better off alone.”

  “Well, be warned,” he called after me. “Iggy Zemski’s not one to give up easily. And I’m actually rooting for him in this contest.”

  That became obvious when the topic of our conversation showed up again. This time around, Iggy Zemski brought me a wounded squirrel in a shoebox.

  “I think some kind of wild animal got him,” he said, placing the box on my exam table.

  An understatement. The back legs were splayed at awkward angles. Whatever had attacked this poor creature had broken its back and destroyed any chance of the animal’s survival. I didn’t touch the squirrel. There was no need. He’d die within minutes. I sighed. “All I can do at this stage is make him comfortable.”

  “That’s it?” His question came out a hoarse croak, and I looked up at him to see the sorrow on his face. This giant of a man had a gooey inside, or the best acting chops this side of Hollywood.

  Once, a long time ago, a giant man with a soft heart charmed me into love and marriage. But when things went just a bit too far south for him, his soft heart became his undoing, leaving me holding the bag. I shook off the memories and reverted to clinical Dr. Herrera.

  “I’m sorry. He’s too badly injured. It’s not your fault. Even if you had brought him here the minute it happened, I couldn’t help him.” I pulled open a drawer and removed a soft cotton blanket that I tucked around the struggling animal. At least we could keep him warm and comfortable for the end.

  “You gotta do something for him.”

  My heart splintered. I hated delivering bad news to a pet owner—even when the pet owner only had custody for an hour or so. “I’m not a wildlife specialist, Mr. Zemski, but even if I were, I could tell you this little guy’s too far gone for help from anyone. Not your fault. He wasn’t going to survive, no matter what anyone did. My guess would be he was hunted as a food source and you, or someone else, startled the hunter before he could kill his prey, but not before the destruction was wrought. In the future, should you find another injured woodland creature, though, you should head directly to Hampton Bays. There’s a volunteer foundation there that specializes in wildlife health. Becky can give you the address for your records.” I placed the lid on the box and removed my gloves. “No charge for today, since I couldn’t do anything to help.”

  “You could make it up to me by having dinner with me,” he said as he lifted the box.

  Seriously? We were back to this again? Cara’s words echoed in my head. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he arranged to get this dog here just so he could come up with a reasonable way to meet you. And when the dog didn’t do the trick, did he assume he could just keep bringing me injured strays until I agreed to go out with him? I was going to have to be firm with him this time.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied. “You seem like a very nice man, Mr. Zemski. But I am not looking for a date. Not now, and probably not ever. Thank you.”

  “I am a nice man, Dr. Herrera. And you seem like a very nice lady, someone I’d really like to get to know. It doesn’t have to be a date, just a few hours with a new friend. If you don’t want to do dinner, how about lunch? Or tea? You like tea? A brand new tea shop just opened up in town. I’ve heard the pastries are worth ruining your figure for.” He scanned me up and down in that infuriating male-privilege way that always annoyed me. Even wearing a lab coat, the look made me want to clutch my collar to my throat. “Not that you would. Ruin your figure, I mean.”

  I ignored that. “Mr. Zemski, I—”

  “Iggy,” he corrected.

  No. I was not going to be on a first-name basis with him. That, in my mind, was encouraging him, and I had no intention of dating him—or anyone else, for that matter. “Mr. Zemski, please. You seem like a very nice man, and if I were interested in dating anyone, I’d definitely say yes to you. But I just lost my husband recently—”

  He backed up, a dark flush rising in his razor-sharp cheeks. “Oh. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Thank you.” I dropped my gaze to my hands.

  “Is that why you moved here?”

  “Yes. I needed a fresh start.” I needed that start more than anyone but Dom knew. Part of me hated using David’s death as a convenient excuse, but my logical side knew it was as close to the truth as I’d ever admit to a stranger.

  “Well, then, all the more re
ason you need a friend. You’re new in town, and aside from Dr. Bautista, you don’t know anyone. What if you got a flat tire somewhere?”

  “I’d call Triple-A,” I replied.

  “A water leak or a problem with your electricity?” he countered. “Triple-A’s useless for that kinda stuff.”

  I bit back a smile. “Yellow Pages?”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to have a friend you can rely on? I mean, you can’t always get an electrician to come to your house at…say…two in the morning. But you could always get me.”

  “Really, that’s very kind of you, but—”

  “Tea. Just a cup of tea. A scone. A cookie. Come on. You hafta eat. Right? We’ll be two friends, checking out the new place in town.” I started to argue again, but he cut me off. “I’m more than nice or kind. I’m also honorable. Trustworthy. Ask anyone in town. In fact, pick the day and time you wanna go, tell everyone you know you’re meeting me there. They’ll not only assure you I’m a good guy, but if something untoward happens to you, I’d become the number one suspect. Who would take that chance?”

  I couldn’t stifle my gasp fast enough. A joke. He had to have meant it as a joke. No one in this town but Dom knew the truth. Dom and me. Whether joke or threat, the words stiffened my spine and hardened my resolve.

  “Thank you, Mr. Zemski. But no. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to see to.” Although my legs trembled, I managed to look all-business as I strode to the exam room entrance and opened the door fast and wide.

  Becky whirled, flinching, at the sudden noise.

  “No charge for Mr. Zemski today,” I told her then turned to leave through the rear door where I found Miranda waiting to prep the room for my next patient.

  “You okay?” she asked as she headed past me. “You look like your best friend died.”

  He did. About two years ago. Maybe longer if you count from the time he started drifting away from me. And his death changed my life in ways no one would ever understand.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “Just need a quick caffeine fix before the next exam. I’ll be right back.” I sped to the breakroom and sat in the closest chair, willing my limbs to steady themselves and struggling to keep the tears at bay.