Dating, Dining, and Desperation (A Dear Daphne Novel)
Page 3
“A friend of mine owns Midge’s Diner.”
“A diner?” Sabrina sounded unimpressed.
“It’s called that because it’s always been called that. But it’s actually a nice little restaurant. Ricardo, that’s the owner, is a really good chef. And they have outdoor seating. I thought it’d be nice to sit outside to eat. And since you brought Tootsie, that might be the best plan anyway.”
“All right then. Midge’s Diner it is.”
Before long, they were seated out in front of the restaurant. And after Sabrina soothed Tootsie, quieting his whining with a doggy biscuit, he seemed to settle in beneath the table.
“I didn’t see Ricardo around.” Daphne perused the menu. “But he’s a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll like him.”
“Hello, Daphne,” the waitress said in a slightly curt tone. “Can I get you gals something to drink?”
“This is Kellie.” Daphne took a moment to introduce them and explain to Kellie that Sabrina had just moved into her neighborhood.
“You live in the same neighborhood as Ricardo’s mom, right?” Kellie asked with a creased brow.
“Yes, she’s just a couple houses down,” Daphne said.
“I thought I’d heard that.” Kellie turned to study Sabrina. “Welcome to Appleton. Now do you want something to drink or not?”
“I’ll have sweet tea,” Sabrina told her.
“Our iced tea is unsweetened,” Kellie informed her. “But I’ll bring some sugar.”
Sabrina looked surprised. “Oh . . . all right.”
“I’ll have iced tea too,” Daphne said.
After Kellie left, Sabrina frowned. “Is it just my imagination or does that waitress seem a bit rude?”
Daphne made a half smile. “Yeah, she’s not terribly fond of me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Probably because I’m too friendly with Ricardo.”
Sabrina’s fine eyebrows arched. “Is Ricardo married?”
“No. And I think Kellie’s keeping her eye on him.”
“How about Ricardo? Is he keeping an eye on her?”
“Well, you saw the girl,” Daphne said. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous is only skin deep, Daphne. And sometimes I get a sense about people. And take it from me, that waitress is not a nice person. If this Ricardo is really your friend, you should be concerned if he’s interested in someone like that.”
Daphne shrugged. “I think Ricardo is mostly focused on making this restaurant a success. And Kellie is a dependable waitress.”
“With an attitude.”
Daphne couldn’t disagree, but instead she pointed out what she felt were good choices on the menu. “Although I’ve never had a meal I didn’t like here.” She closed her menu.
Eventually they figured out what they wanted to eat and eventually Kellie returned to take their order. “Is she always this slow?” Sabrina asked after Kellie went back inside. “I mean it doesn’t seem that busy here right now.”
“I know.” Daphne frowned. She’d been thinking the same thing. “I think she’s giving us a message, like take your business elsewhere.”
“Someone should tell Ricardo.”
Daphne nodded. “I wonder where he is.” Then as if by magic, she spotted Ricardo strolling down the sidewalk toward them. “Well, speak of the devil. Here comes Ricardo now.”
Carrying a pair of shopping bags that seemed to be bulging with produce, Ricardo paused by their table. “Daphne,” he said warmly. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. I was about to ask my mom if you were on vacation or something.”
“I’ve been here. Just holed up. Working on my novel.”
“Ah, the writer’s quiet life.” His dark eyes twinkled as he held up his bags. “Been to the Apple Basket. Truman’s been getting some great produce this summer. I may start getting all of it from him year round.” He paused to peer down at Sabrina with curiosity.
“I’m sorry.” Daphne quickly introduced them. “Sabrina just moved in across the street.”
“Welcome to Appleton,” Ricardo told her.
“Thank you. I’ve heard such wonderful things about your diner here,” Sabrina said cheerfully. “I’m really looking forward to my gazpacho soup and spinach salad. Daphne recommended it.” She glanced at her watch. “It is coming, isn’t it?”
Ricardo got a concerned look. “Have you been waiting long?” He glanced from Sabrina to Daphne.
“It’s been about twenty minutes,” Daphne admitted uneasily.
“Twenty minutes?” He looked aggravated.
“Maybe it’s busy,” Daphne offered.
“On a Monday? At two?” He firmly shook his head. “Let me go see what’s wrong.”
After he was gone, Sabrina made a slight smirk. “It’s not that I wanted to get that waitress in trouble, but Ricardo seems like such a nice guy. He should know if his workers are slacking.”
Daphne nodded. “You’re probably right. But this is a small town. And I’m not comfortable having Kellie know we ratted on her.”
“We did not rat on anyone.” Sabrina shook her head. “I simply made an innocent comment about the service. If I stepped on any toes, I’m sure I’ll be forgiven. After all, I am new in town.” She leaned down to check on Tootsie and rewarded his patience with another doggy bone, then sitting up, she smiled innocently. “You’re writing a novel?”
“I’m trying.”
“What kind of novel? Romance, by any chance?”
“Not really. Although there is a romantic thread. But really, it’s suspense.”
Sabrina’s eyebrows arched. “Suspense . . . hmmm. Sounds interesting.”
Ricardo emerged with a tray of food. “Here you go, ladies. My apologies for the delay. Seems there was a misunderstanding in the kitchen.” He carefully arranged their soups and salads on the table. “Anything else I can get you?”
“This looks yummy,” Sabrina said.
“Bon appétit!” He bowed.
“Um, this is really delicious,” Sabrina proclaimed after a few bites. “And that Ricardo . . . well, he’s rather delicious too, don’t you think?”
“He is good looking. But more than that, he’s a really good guy.”
“And a really good cook too.” Sabrina glanced into the restaurant. “A girl could do far worse.”
Uneasy with the direction this was going, Daphne decided it was time to take control of the conversation—what better topic than what seemed nearest and dearest to Sabrina’s heart? “You mentioned Tootsie was twelve years old. Have you had him for that long, or did you adopt him later in his life?”
That seemed to be the magic question because suddenly Sabrina was telling Daphne her whole life story. Or so it seemed. Starting with working for a legal firm, hoping to marry one of the younger partners, but instead Edward Fontaine III swept her away with his attention and his pocketbook. Never mind that he was old enough to be her father.
“I grew up watching Sabrina a lot.”
“The teenage witch?”
Sabrina laughed. “No, silly. Sabrina the movie. At first I really liked the remake with Julia Ormond, probably because I was a teen when it released. But then I saw the original Sabrina and was totally swept away by Audrey Hepburn.”
“Oh yes, I like that version better too.” Daphne still felt confused.
“So I watched it a lot. You know, because of the name and all. And I suppose it was because of Linus’s age difference. Remember Humphrey Bogart played him? Well, anyway, thanks to Linus I wasn’t that concerned about Edward.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, what I failed to realize was that Linus hadn’t been married three times. And Linus wasn’t selfish. And he wasn’t a philanderer either. That would’ve been David, I suspect, if Sabrina had married him.”
Daphne was still confused. “So you’re sayin
g Edward was nothing like Linus? Except for the age difference?”
“Exactamundo!”
Ricardo was coming out again. “Looks like you ladies enjoyed your meal.”
“It was lovely, Ricardo.” Daphne smiled. “Well worth the wait.”
He looked uncertain as he cleared the table. “Just the same, it’s on the house.”
“Oh, Ricardo,” Daphne said. “You can’t always do that.”
“I don’t always do that. I’m only doing it now because I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”
“But you don’t—”
“No arguing, Daphne.” He winked at Sabrina. “Besides, I want to set a good example for your friend. I’m hoping she’ll want to be a regular here.”
“You can count on that,” Sabrina assured him.
“But, Ricardo—”
“Shh.” He told Daphne. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make you pay for your dessert.” He grinned at Sabrina. “You are going to have dessert, aren’t you? After such a light lunch, I think you should consider it.”
“Absolutely.” Sabrina nodded. “Daphne already told me about your apple pie ice cream. It sounds delightful.”
“It is,” Daphne said. “It tastes just like apple pie and ice cream . . . but there’s no apple pie.”
“I’ll have mine with coffee,” Sabrina ordered.
“Make that two,” Daphne added.
Something funny happened as the two of them sat outside enjoying their ice cream and coffee—Daphne realized she was actually having fun. Despite their differences, she really liked Sabrina. And when people passing by stopped to say hello, Daphne took the time to introduce them to Sabrina. And Daphne didn’t even feel uneasy calling Sabrina her friend. Especially since it seemed clear that everyone was happy to meet the Southern belle. And she caught a lot of second glances from the fellows too. But why wouldn’t they be drawn to her? Not only was Sabrina adorable in her pink-and-white sundress, she was cheerful and attentive and sweet. What guy didn’t like that sort of thing?
“I just remembered you asked me about Tootsie.” Sabrina licked the last bit of ice cream from her spoon and set it neatly on the dish. “I’ve had him for twelve years. Ever since he was a puppy. I used to call him my payoff dog.”
“Payoff?”
“Yes, from Edward. And it was surprising because Edward despises dogs.”
Daphne frowned to remember her first impression of the ill-mannered Chihuahua. “If Edward despises dogs, it seems he might not be too fond of Tootsie.”
“Edward hates Tootsie.”
“I don’t understand.”
Sabrina nodded sadly. “Of course not. A normal person couldn’t possibly understand. You see, Edward didn’t want children. Well, to be fair he already had children. Grown children. He just didn’t want any more. I was only twenty-three when we got married and I really wanted children. But Edward was adamantly opposed. So much so that he insisted I take permanent measures to ensure we didn’t have any.”
“He made you—”
“That’s right.” She nodded. “I suggested he get himself fixed instead, but he claimed he couldn’t afford to miss work. And after all, he was the breadwinner and I was totally dependent on him. So I agreed. But after it was all said and done, I was so upset over what I’d done that I fell completely apart. I was a mess. That’s when Edward got me Tootsie. My payoff.” She smiled sadly. “That’s probably why I spoil Tootsie, why I call him my wittle baby.” She leaned down to check on her dog. “My mama still hasn’t gotten over it. I mean, me not able to have children.”
“Oh my.” Daphne shook her head. “Edward doesn’t sound like a very nice person.”
“You wouldn’t know that if you met him. His people skills are very polished. But believe me, he’s not nice. Not to me anyway.” She set her coffee cup down. “But I suppose I should be thankful for his meanness toward me . . . now.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he had me sign a prenup.”
Daphne felt confused again. How was a prenuptial agreement a good thing if you were married to a louse? “But didn’t you get a good settlement?”
“I certainly did.”
“What about the prenup?”
“Thanks to Edward’s despicable nature as well as his less-than-sterling reputation, the judge was merciful with me. I owe thanks to my divorce lawyer too—now that’s the guy I should’ve gone for, but he’s happily married with four kids now. Anyway he fought for me and got me a fair settlement.”
Daphne sighed. “Wow . . . you’ve been through a lot.”
“But now it’s time for a new beginning.” She picked up her coffee cup, holding it like a toast. “Here’s to fresh starts—for both of us.”
“To fresh starts.” As Daphne clicked her cup against Sabrina’s, she couldn’t help but think of Jake. She’d already begun a new fresh start. It was time to accept he was not going to be anything more than her friend and attorney. And it was high time she got used to being without him. Maybe the distraction of her new neighbor would help.
Chapter 4
With the garden coming on so well, Daphne found herself elbow deep in produce. And while she was eating better than ever with delightful salads and freshly steamed veggies, it was impossible to consume them all. As a result Mrs. Terwilliger insisted on teaching Daphne how to “can.” On Tuesday morning, she showed up at Daphne’s back door with a boxful of jars, a gigantic stainless-steel pot, and a big smile.
“Ready to go to work?” Mrs. Terwilliger asked.
“I guess so.” Daphne took the load from the older woman.
“Good. I’ll go back for another box of jars.”
“Are you sure we need that many?”
Mrs. Terwilliger pointed to the rows of tomatoes and cucumbers lining all the flat surfaces of the laundry room area. “It looks like it to me.”
Daphne nodded. “And more are ripening up in the garden right now.”
Because of Mrs. Terwilliger’s age, Daphne insisted she sit at the kitchen table to do the prep work. And from there she directed Daphne through all the steamy steps of home canning tomatoes and pickles. They broke for lunch but continued the arduous process of peeling, packing, seasoning, boiling, and so on clear into late afternoon.
“This is a lot of work.” Daphne put the last batch of pickles into the hot bath.
“But isn’t it worthwhile when you look at all those lovely jars of preserves?” Mrs. Terwilliger pointed to the counter filling up with jars that were still cooling. The rest had been safely stowed in the pantry already.
“It is rather amazing. Aunt Dee never did anything like this.”
“That’s because she was busy writing those textbooks.” Mrs. Terwilliger shook her head. “I was always so impressed with her mind . . . being able to write such academia.”
Daphne chuckled to herself as she replaced the lid on the canner and set the timer for twenty minutes. What would Mrs. Terwilliger think to find out that Aunt Dee’s “textbooks” were really Penelope Poindexter’s romance novels? Not that Daphne had any intention of letting Aunt Dee’s true identity out. Some secrets were best left secret.
“Thank you so much for your help,” Daphne told Mrs. Terwilliger, “but I can tell you’re tired.”
“Nonsense, this has been fun.”
“But it’s time for the fun to end.” Daphne picked up the box of canned goods she was giving to her neighbor in payment for her help. “I’m going to carry these for you and walk you home.”
“But you haven’t finished the last of those yet.” Mrs. Terwilliger pointed at the tomatoes still in the laundry room.
“I know how to do it now,” Daphne said as they went outside into the much-cooler air. “I’ll finish them tonight.” Although even as she said this, Daphne was tempted to finish them right into the compo
st pile.
“Oh, good for you. It’s a sin to waste good produce.”
Daphne nixed the compost idea as she waited for Mrs. Terwilliger to open her back door and let them into her pint-sized kitchen. Daphne thanked her again as she set the box on the table. “I never could have done all this without you.”
“And just wait until the green beans and beets and all those other goodies start coming in good. We’ll have even more canning to do.” Mrs. Terwilliger smiled with flushed cheeks.
Daphne nodded uneasily, trying to think of an escape from spending the rest of August in a sweltering kitchen, packing glass jars with vegetables. “Yes, but I’m also considering sharing some of the produce with the others too. Do you think anyone would be interested?”
“Of course they would. I used to keep a big garden, back when I was young enough to tend it properly. If it produced more than I could use or can, I would set a wooden box in the front yard and neighbors would just take what they wanted from it.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“It was much appreciated and a nice way to get folks together. I’ll bet I still have that old apple crate out in the shed.”
“Well, I think I’ll give that a try.” Feeling relieved to have an option that might nip this canning madness in the bud, Daphne thanked her again. “But I better get back home to remove the next batch of jars from the canner.”
Back in the still-steamy kitchen, Daphne decided to be true to her word—she would persevere with the preserves by canning the remainder of the produce. It was like running a tomato marathon and she didn’t finish until after ten o’clock. But at least she was done with it. And as far as she was concerned, she was done with canning too. At least for this summer.
As she was wearily brushing her teeth before bed, she couldn’t believe what all that steamy heat had done to her naturally curly auburn hair. She looked like Little Orphan Annie’s much older sister. But too tired to do anything about it, she tumbled into bed where all she could see in her mind’s eye were tomatoes and cucumbers . . . cucumbers and tomatoes. She would probably be dreaming about them too!
In the morning, after sleeping in a bit, Daphne still felt like she was recovering from her day at the “cannery.” But seeing as it was starting out to be another lovely day, she took her coffee outside and enjoyed the cool morning air in the beautiful garden. Besides all the vegetables that Mick the garden guy had planted, there was a big bed of cutting flowers as well. And near that was a small table and chairs Mick had set up in order to experience the garden in a leisurely way. She’d had many a morning cup of coffee out here.