by Terri DuLong
I drove slowly past the restaurant on SR 24, saw that he was already seated at a table outside, and gave a short toot of my horn as I waved my arm out the window. I had to drive farther down the road and found a spot to park across the street.
As I approached the restaurant, Simon stood up with a huge smile on his face. Damn, but he looked good. I’m not sure why it is, but I get a bit fluttery inside when I see a good-looking guy wearing an open collar, long-sleeved white shirt, untucked, with jeans. It suddenly occurred to me that Simon reminded me of an actor that I’d seen in some British series about a Scottish laird. And just like that actor, Simon Mancini exuded a fair amount of sex appeal.
“Josie,” he said, reaching out his hand. “Good to see you again. It’s so nice out this evening, I thought we’d sit outside.”
I felt my hand in his and had to admit that his touch had a certain electricity to it. No wonder he had a gift for healing people. “Great idea,” I said, letting go of his hand and sitting down across from him. “I do think autumn is definitely in the air.”
“You probably enjoy wearing all of your knitted items this time of year. That’s a nice sweater. Did you make it?”
“I did. Thanks,” I said just as the waitress came out to take our drink order. “I’ll have a glass of cabernet. I prefer the red wines in the cooler weather.”
“Same here,” Simon told her.
“So how’s the remodeling going?” I asked.
“Right on schedule. Actually, I think my apartment will be ready right after Thanksgiving and I’ll be able to move in.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”
“I will. I’m getting a bit tired of living here and there out of a suitcase. It’ll be nice not to have to leave the island as frequently and to have my own place.”
“And the office is also coming along okay?”
Simon laughed as the wine was placed in front of us. “Yeah, with the help of my sister. Is it okay if we wait a bit before ordering the pizza?” he asked me.
I nodded. “Sure. Fine.”
“I’ll be back,” the waitress said.
“Your sister is helping on the renovation?”
“Cheers,” he said, touching my wineglass. “Well, she’s helping with the decorating. I’m hopeless when it comes to things like that. So Gloria has given me her input on colors, furniture, that sort of thing. She’s pretty good at it, so I always welcome her suggestions.”
I smiled. “Yeah, always good to get a second opinion.”
He caught my meaning and chuckled. “Right. Even with a doctor. So as I’d mentioned, both of my sisters really enjoyed meeting you, and I know Gloria loved the yarn shop. She came back to my mom’s house with a bag full. She even got some for Lily, which made her happy. It always amazes me how much yarn can delight a woman.”
I laughed. “Well, if she’s a knitter, yes.”
“It’s hard to believe that it’ll be November already next week. Before we know it, I’ll be opening my practice here. Oh, by the way, my daughter is going to move in with me for a few months. We want to spend some quality time together before she heads off to college next summer.”
“How nice for both of you,” I said. “Has she made a choice on a college yet?”
“Not yet, but I think she’ll choose somewhere in the southeast so she won’t be too far away to visit me and the family.”
“That’s really nice. You seem to have a very close relationship with her.”
I noticed that a sad expression briefly crossed his face before he said, “Yeah, we’re very close. Lily is everything to me. She’s never been all that close to her mother. When she was a kid, I often thought that she looked to my sisters as more of a mother figure than her own mother.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
Simon took another sip of wine and then said, “We divorced when Lily was around eight, but even before the divorce there was never a special bond between them. Soon after Lily was born, I discovered that Stephanie just wasn’t one of those mothers who considered motherhood the focus of her life.” He tapped the table with his palm. “So . . . enough about me. Let’s get that pizza ordered.”
Driving home later, I realized that I very much enjoyed being in the company of Dr. Simon Mancini. Once again an entire evening seemed to have flown by, allowing us to learn a little more about each other. But I also realized that although he had discussed his daughter, he had never once made mention of the fact that she was blind.
19
I was just sliding pumpkin bread into the oven when the phone rang.
I answered to hear Mallory say, “Can you believe it’s the morning before Thanksgiving already? Are you busy?”
I reached for my coffee mug. “I know. This year has really flown by. And no, I just got a pumpkin bread into the oven for the knitting class this evening.”
“That class is going so well, isn’t it? The guys seem to really enjoy it.”
“They do, and I enjoy it as well. So what’s up with you today?”
“I have to make a run to Publix in Gainesville. Do you need anything?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I just wanted to touch base. As you know, we’re having dinner tomorrow at Troy’s parents’ house, but we’ll be at your mom’s for dessert later in the day.”
“Great. When’s your mom getting here?”
“She said she’ll be at your mother’s house by later this afternoon. I just hung up with her. Okay. I have to run. See you tomorrow.”
I hung up and put a fingertip to the mini-cakes cooling on the wire rack, a smile crossing my face. Since Orli was a toddler we’d had a Thanksgiving morning tradition of having these for breakfast before a big dinner at my parents’ house. They were my own recipe and similar to pumpkin muffins, but instead of baking them in muffin tins I always used a Bundt pan that produced six individual huge muffins in a distinctive ring shape. Orli loved them, and by the time she was four, she called them clunkerdunkers and the name had stuck.
I had just placed them into my Tupperware holder and secured the lid when the phone rang again.
“Are you busy cooking for tomorrow?” I heard Simon ask, and I smiled.
It had been four weeks since our pizza together, and although he’d called a few times for office-related questions, we hadn’t seen each other again.
“I’m baking but was just going to sit down to enjoy my second cup of coffee. How’ve you been?”
“Busy. I’ll really be glad to get over there and get settled in. That’s why I’m calling. All the furniture for both the office and my apartment is being delivered next week. So I’ll be tied up getting everything arranged and in order. Gloria’s going to come over and help me get my apartment together, and I should be an official resident of Cedar Key by the second week in December.”
“That’s terrific,” I told him. “Things are moving along fast now.”
“Right and I . . . was wondering . . . well, I’d like to give you the tour of the office first. You know . . . as the nurse there, maybe you’ll have something to add that’s slipped my mind.”
“That would be great. Sure.” No, it wasn’t a bona fide date, but hey, I wasn’t turning down a chance to be with Simon again.
“Wonderful. After I give you the tour of the office, I’d like to show you my apartment upstairs, so I’m inviting you to dinner.”
Oh, this was sounding a bit more like a date. “Yeah, that would be great, but you don’t have to cook. I can just see your apartment without dinner.”
Simon laughed. “Yes, I know that but as my colleague, I’d enjoy cooking dinner for you.”
Colleague? Maybe not a date after all. “That would be nice. Thanks,” I said, wanting to kick myself for feeling a bit disappointed.
“Would Tuesday evening the ninth work for you? At seven?”
I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “Yes, fine. I look forward to it.”
“Wonderful,” I he
ard him say again with a definite tone of excitement. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Dinner at my parents’ house, and you?”
“Yes, the same. We’ll have quite a gang over there. Well, happy Thanksgiving, Josie. I look forward to seeing you in a couple weeks.”
I hung up the phone with mixed feelings. I was definitely attracted to this guy. I think he liked me, too, but I wasn’t sure he liked me as a romantic interest. Using the word colleague, he probably didn’t. He was just being nice, inviting me to dinner. And anyway, wouldn’t that be a bit sticky, working so closely with somebody that you were actually dating? And then I recalled all of the doctor/nurse stories I’d heard at the hospital during my training. In public they had remained quite professional, so I was usually surprised to hear about this or that doctor and nurse being a couple. So, yes, of course it was possible to have a romantic relationship and to maintain the professionalism at work. But whoa, Josie, I thought. This is simply a dinner at his apartment. Don’t go assuming things that may never happen.
I opened the shop at ten and didn’t think we’d be too busy the day before Thanksgiving. Most women were more focused on cooking and baking rather than knitting the day before a holiday.
About an hour later Chloe walked in just as I was unpacking some scrumptious cashmere yarn.
“Uh-oh,” she said, walking over to finger it. “I see another dent in my checking account.”
I looked up and laughed. “I know the feeling, but I’ve appreciated the discount since I’ve been working here. I bet you’re happy to be back knitting full time with that cast gone.”
“I am,” she said, holding her arm out. “I was lucky that it healed so well. We’ll probably be slow today, and I think we can close by two.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. What’re your plans for tomorrow?”
“Dinner at Aunt Maude’s with Grace, Lucas, and Solange. Are you going to your parents?”
I nodded. “Yeah, and Jane is driving over today to spend a few days at their house. Mallory and her family will be over later in the day for dessert.”
“And what’s our new doc in town doing? Has he moved in yet?”
“He’s moving in next week when all of his furniture is delivered. He did call me this morning and said he’ll be spending the holiday at his parents’ house in Gainesville.”
“Do you have a class tonight?”
“Yeah, I asked the guys if they wanted one. Saxton said that Berkley’s doing the cooking and they invited Doyle, but he’s free this evening and the others agreed. So they said it was up to me and I have no prep to do tonight. You know my mother—won’t let me do a thing. I baked some pumpkin bread this morning for the guys. What about Gabe? What’s he doing tomorrow? He’s alone here on the island.”
“Yeah, I know,” was all she said.
Gabe had taken Chloe to have her cast removed and out for lunch. According to her, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but that was four weeks ago and since then he hadn’t made any overtures toward getting together again.
She went to pour herself a cup of coffee and then plunked down on the sofa. “I’m not sure he likes me. Christ, I sound like a silly teenager, don’t I?
I filled my mug and joined her. “No, not at all. You said you both seemed to have a great time spending the day together.”
“We did. Well, at least I thought we did.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the next move.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” I said, then laughed. “You’re right—you’re not teenagers, so all those rules like never call the boy, wait till he asks you out, they don’t apply anymore.”
A smile crossed her face. “Says who?”
“Chloe, those days are gone. Women are more assertive and independent now.”
“So you’re suggesting that I ask him on a date?”
“Well, not necessarily a date, but you could invite him for Thanksgiving dinner. I seriously doubt that Maude would mind one more at the table.”
She took another sip of coffee as a thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Hmm, maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s waiting to see if I’m interested or if I was just being nice by accepting his ride to Gainesville. Maybe I should stop by the class this evening and ask him to dinner tomorrow.”
I reached over and patted her hand. “Now you’re talkin’. If he’s truly not interested, he’ll make up some excuse for tomorrow and at least you’ll know how he feels.”
She nodded emphatically. “Right. I’d rather know upfront and not be blindsided like I was with Parker. God, this dating scene, it’s a slippery slope, isn’t it? You don’t want to appear too interested, but then if you don’t show enough interest, that’s not good either. I thought these days were behind me.”
I laughed. “Afraid not. Like I said, there’s no expiration date on attraction or romance.”
“Thanks for your advice, Josie.”
“Anytime,” I said.
Now if only I could figure out my exact relationship with Dr. Simon Mancini, my advice might be worth something.
20
My dad was the one who answered the intercom when Orli and I pulled up to their gate, and he was the one who opened the front door to greet us.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said with a huge smile on his face before scooping both of us into a hug.
“Same to you, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“Oh, she and Jane are sitting outside on the patio having a cup of tea. Come on in.”
Sitting on the patio? Having tea? On Thanksgiving morning? Why wasn’t she in her usual mode of rushing around the kitchen, wearing an apron, finishing up all of her last-minute details?
But as Orli and I headed to the back of the house I did inhale the wonderful aroma of the turkey cooking away in the oven.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I said, walking over to place a kiss on my mother’s cheek and then Jane’s.
“Happy Turkey Day, Nana,” Orli said.
“And to both of you,” my mother said.
She was curled up on the lounge, her legs tucked under her with a mug between both hands. I took a really good look at her and realized that she looked a bit pale. When did those shadows suddenly appear beneath her eyes?
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Of course, why?”
“Well, because you’re normally in the kitchen bustling around on Thanksgiving morning—not reclined out here like a diva.”
Jane laughed. “Your mother had Delilah help her yesterday with all the baking, stuffing the turkey, peeling the veggies, so all of the work is done. By the time I got here at three, they’d already finished.”
Okay. Something definitely was not right. Never in all the years that I’d lived in this house had my mother allowed Delilah to help her do the prep for a holiday meal. My mother prided herself on doing it all. Alone.
“How’s your stomach feeling?” I asked.
“Fine. Fine.”
“Mom, don’t tell me fine. Something not’s right.”
“Are you not feeling well, Nana?” I saw the concern on Orli’s face.
My mother waved a hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. Just a little tired. I’ve been quite busy working to finish up my manuscript before the holidays. You know how hectic it gets this time of year. And now it’s completed and in the hands of my editor. So that’s it for me till after the first of the year.”
I still wasn’t convinced, but I dropped the subject.
“I just love coming here for Thanksgiving,” Jane said, as if she also was trying to skirt the issue. “I spoke to Mallory this morning, and they’ll be over around four. Gosh, I can’t believe how Carter is growing. Ten years old already, and look at you, Orli. About to turn sixteen.”
Orli shot her a smile and nodded. “I know. I’m going to be taking driving lessons in January.”
“Here we go, girls.” My father came outside holding a tray of glasses, which he pl
aced on the table. “Mimosas for everyone. Well, a virgin one for Orli,” he said, causing her to giggle.
We held the champagne flutes up as my mother said, “Happy Thanksgiving to the four people who I love most in life.”
“And we love you back,” all of us said, which was our traditional response each year.
I took a sip. “Is there anything left that I can do?” I glanced inside the French doors and saw that the dining room table had already been elaborately set.
“I don’t think so,” Jane replied. “I got the table set this morning.”
Jane had set the table? Another odd occurrence. Setting the table for a holiday dinner was something else my mother had claimed as her domain many years ago.
“No, no. Everything is all ready. We’ll be eating at noon. So did that new doctor open his practice yet? I haven’t been downtown in a couple weeks, so I’ve been out of the loop.”
I took another sip of my champagne and orange juice. “Not till after the first of the year. He hasn’t told me a definite date yet that he’ll be opening the office, but he’s moving into his apartment next week.”
“Imagine,” Jane said. “We’re going to have a doctor on the island again after all these years. There hasn’t been a doctor here since the 1950s.”
“Yeah, maybe if there had been one in 1966, Wendy would still be alive.” My mother took a deep gulp of her drink.
My head shot up and I saw the look that passed between my mother and Jane. Wendy was my mother’s younger sister, who had passed away at the age of eight from pneumonia. Despite my repeated questions as a child, my mother always refused to talk very much about my aunt Wendy, so I was surprised that she should mention her now.
“I heard that he’s hired Brandy as your receptionist,” Jane said, completely ignoring my mother’s statement. “I bet she’s thrilled to have that job.”
I felt as if something was going on that I wasn’t privy to. My mom and Jane were more like sisters than girlfriends. Although they were both close to the other three women in their Sisters group, there had always been a unique and extraspecial closeness between these two. I understood this because Mallory and I shared the same kind of bond. Many times we could just read each other’s mind and know what the other was thinking or was going to say. It was both comforting and eerie. And for the first time that I could remember I felt a twinge of jealousy that my mother shared this kind of closeness with Jane and not with me.
