by Fiona Grace
Ali raised an eyebrow. Her frequency? Really? This whole thing was so Teddy. He swore by horoscopes and signs, vibrations and auras, crystals and tarot cards. To Ali, all that stuff was laughably ridiculous.
“Your brother’s running late again,” Lavinia said.
Ali frowned. A lucky guess. Because no one was ever on time with the LA traffic the way it was.
“Wow,” Ali said. “I guess you’re legit after all.”
Lavinia just smiled. “You’re in pain.”
Again, you didn’t have to be a psychic to notice Ali’s eyes were still puffy from yesterday’s crying.
“Willow Bay wants to heal you,” Lavinia announced.
“Does it?” Ali asked, sarcastically. “How does it intend to do that?”
Lavinia opened her arms wide. “Everything you need is right here. If you look, it will provide. It’s up to you whether you take this gift.”
“Right,” Ali said, leaning forward on her elbows. “Here’s something you can tell me. How bad is the traffic on the I-10 right now? I’d like to know how long I have left to kill.”
“Your brother isn’t far,” Lavinia replied.
“Could you maybe narrow it down to five minutes?” Ali asked.
Lavinia sat back and laid her hands on the table. She was kind of pretty, Ali realized now, albeit in a creepy way, like a porcelain doll from the Victorian era.
“You’re a skeptic,” she said.
“I’m just waiting for the good stuff,” Ali replied. “Tall dark stranger. Come into some money. Jupiter aligning with Mars. Yadda yadda yadda.”
From his perch in the corner, Django began to cackle.
A crooked smile flitted across Lavinia’s lips. The fortune teller leaned forward on her elbows, getting uncomfortably close to Ali. Her green eyes seemed to bore into her.
Ali gulped.
Finally, Lavinia sat back. “Your problem is that you always know what you’ll get at the end because you are always following the same recipe.”
Ali hesitated. Even she had to admit that was kinda spooky. There was nothing about her outward appearance that would give a clue as to her profession. Lavinia had somehow found the only metaphor that would speak to Ali.
“You must change the recipe,” Lavinia continued. “You’ve done the same thing over and over again, with the same outcome over and over again. But change just one ingredient, and something you never expected may result.”
Now Ali was getting thoroughly creeped out. Her mind went to her crème brûlées, to the robotic actions she made them with. The same thing. Over and over. The same outcome. Over and over. Then the one time it was different, the one time the spearmint had three leaves instead of four, it had started this whole chain of events. Her job. Otis. Even being here in Willow Bay. She could draw a line right back to that sprig of spearmint.
“Different isn’t bad,” Lavinia continued. “In fact, different is rarely the catastrophe we expect it to be. That small change is, instead, an opportunity. A reminder to blaze your own trail. To be creative. And once you become creative, the recipe is no longer a set of rules to follow, but a journey to walk upon, adding different flavors, techniques, trying different quantities, adjusting, playing. All the answers are right here, waiting for you.” She smiled. “You might want to get that.”
Ali’s phone started to ring. She jumped, thoroughly freaked out.
She retrieved it from her purse. Teddy was calling her.
“I told you the traffic wasn’t that bad,” Lavinia said.
Without a word, Ali stood and rushed out of the caravan into the bright California sunshine. Her hands were shaking as she answered her phone. Teddy’s voice filled her ear.
“Sis, I’m literally almost there. Just parking now. Did you find somewhere to eat?”
“Not yet,” Ali murmured. She was still freaked out from what Lavinia had said. It had really given her the heebie-jeebies.
“Good, because I have a hankering for Italian,” Teddy continued. “So look for a pizzeria.”
“Pizza. Got it.”
She scanned the boardwalk ahead of her, spotting not one but two pizzerias, either side of a vacant store. One was called Marco’s. The other Emilio’s.
“Found one,” she announced.
“Fab,” Teddy said. “By the way, I left my wallet at home. Can you spot me for lunch?”
“Lemme check.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded up twenty. “Yeah. I can spot you.”
Then she paused. There’d also been a ten in there earlier. Definitely. She’d taken it out of the battered cookie tin Otis used as a piggy bank to save for his computer games.
Suddenly, Ali realized what had happened to her missing ten-dollar bill.
“That monkey!” she cried.
She swirled on the spot and glared at the caravan. That’s what Lavinia had meant when she said she’d already paid; Django had pickpocketed her!
“Great,” Teddy said, “I’ll be there in five.”
The call ended, and Ali headed toward the two pizzerias to see which was cheaper. But the closer she got, the more her attention went to the vacant store between them.
Ali immediately recalled her drunken chat with Teddy the night before, and the bakery he’d told her to visualize. The dream he’d told her to put out into the universe. Could this be the universe responding? Was this what Lavinia Leigh meant when she said that everything she needed was right here? That if she looked, it would be provided?
She hurried toward the store. There was even a hanging basket by the door, just like the one she’d imagined—only it wasn’t filled with the pretty pink flowers of Ali’s dreams, but dead, dry, burned to a crisp ones. Still, it was similar enough to send a shiver down Ali’s spine.
Then Ali shook herself. She was being absurd. She’d never be able to actually open her own bakery. She didn’t have the money, for starters.
Lavinia Leigh may think a change in ingredients was in order, but Ali knew there was just no chance she’d ever be able to make her dream a reality. It just wasn’t written in her stars.
CHAPTER SIX
Teddy arrived in a fluster, his strawberry-blond curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. His chubby cheeks were flushed pink, the same color as his boating shorts.
“Ali-cat!” he cried across the pizzeria. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”
Teddy never shied away from making a spectacle. Luckily for the more reserved Ali, she was the only customer in the place.
Her brother blustered toward her—Teddy always moved like he was in a perpetual hurricane—and air kissed her cheeks. Then he plonked himself into the seat opposite her and helped himself to a swig of her water.
“I’m parched,” he exclaimed, fanning his face with a menu, glancing around at his surroundings in a manner reminiscent of a meerkat. “Did you order?”
It always took Ali a bit of time to recalibrate herself when Teddy was around. It was like the world moved at a faster speed and she had to jog to keep up. It could be quite exhausting sometimes.
“I got us a classic margherita to share,” she said with a smile. “Is that okay?”
“Perfect,” Teddy said, slapping his palms on the tabletop with a flourish.
He was in a good mood then.
“I take it the audition went well,” Ali suggested.
Teddy shrugged. “Honestly, it’s hard to tell. It was quick, which could mean they hated me so much they didn’t want to see any more. But they didn’t cut me off mid-monologue and tell me to leave, so maybe it was quick because they liked me so much they didn’t need to see more. The important thing is that my acting was on point. I should turn up to all my auditions underprepared.”
As he spoke, Ali squinted at him. Something had changed. His teeth. They looked… kind of blue.
“What have you done to your teeth?” she asked.
Teddy ran his tongue along them. “I whitened them for a toothbrush commercial.”
“That�
�s supposed to be white?”
Teddy laughed. “I know, they’re a bit alarming. But you know what they say about the camera.”
“That it adds ten pounds?” Ali quipped.
“Well yes. But also you can get away with a heck of a lot more makeup. And, apparently, blue teeth. Point is, it’ll look absolutely fine on screen.”
“Well, just be careful when you’re out and about at night,” Ali said with a smirk. “I bet those things glow in the dark.”
Just then, the server approached their table. He had a tray perched on the tips of his fingers like a pro. He looked like the archetypal Italian man, with dark, wavy hair, tanned skin, and a chiseled jawline sporting perfectly sculpted stubble. He moved with suave confidence, with elegance, presenting their pizza like it was part of a dance.
Ali’s mouth watered. Not just because of the gorgeous specimen of a man standing beside her, but because of the fresh, doughy margherita pizza in front of her and the wonderful aroma of fresh basil billowing into her face.
“This looks fantastic,” Teddy said, his eyes widening with hunger. “Emilio, is it?”
“Marco,” the man corrected. “Emilio’s is the other store.”
“The one on the other side of the vacant lot?” Ali asked with interest. She thought of the store, the perfect spot for her bakery.
“Yes,” Marco confirmed. Then whispered, “The overpriced one.”
Ali got the distinct impression the two pizza joints were rivals. She briefly entertained the thought of being sandwiched in the middle of two warring Italians. If Emilio was as gorgeous as Marco, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“We’ll make sure never to go there,” Teddy told Marco with a wink.
Marco nodded, satisfied, and returned to the kitchen.
Teddy grabbed a slice of glistening pizza. “I’m famished.” He took a huge bite with his blue-white teeth. Then, through his mouthful, he asked, “Why did you shout ‘monkey’ when we were on the phone earlier?”
Ali frowned. “Huh?”
“Earlier. When we were talking. I asked if you could spot me for lunch, and you shouted “monkey!”
His impression of her was spot on.
Ali’s mind went to Django, the pickpocketing macaque. She wasn’t sure whether telling Teddy about the fortune teller was a good idea. He’d only make a thing out of it.
She grabbed a slice of pizza.
“There was a monkey on the pier,” she said evasively, before shoving her pizza into her mouth to avoid having to answer any follow-up questions.
“That’s a bit weird,” Teddy replied through a mouthful of greasy cheese. “Was it someone’s pet?”
Ali chewed and chewed, giving a shrug as her answer. The pizza was absolutely delicious.
“Was it wearing clothes?” Teddy continued.
“Uh-huh,” Ali said, still chewing away.
“So it was definitely a pet. I mean the only people I know who’d ever keep a monkey as a pet would be a fortune teller or something.” He stopped, his eyes widened. “No way! Ali-cat, did you go and speak to a fortune teller?”
Damn, Ali thought. He had the sort of power of deduction Lavinia Leigh would be proud of!
She swallowed her mouthful. “Yes. But don’t go getting all over-excited about it. It was a one-off to kill time.”
Too late. Teddy had started flapping his hands excitedly. “Tell me everything! How did you even meet a fortune teller, because I don’t believe for a second you had your fortune told of your own free will.”
Ali sighed and put her pizza slice down. There was no getting out of it. She’d have to spill.
“I was standing by the Ferris wheel on the pier and I suddenly remembered that we’d been here before. When we were kids. With Dad.”
There was an instantaneous change in Teddy’s demeanor. He didn’t like to talk about their father. Their parents’ divorce had happened not long after Teddy had come out, and he’d never been able to shake the insecurity that he’d caused it, in the same way Ali couldn’t shake her fear that ceasing to hold her dad’s hand had caused it.
“Oh yeah, sure, years ago,” Teddy replied, stiffly.
“So I was looking at the Ferris wheel, and I saw a guy who looked just like him. Dad, I mean. But obviously it wasn’t, ’cause this guy was in his forties.”
“Uh-huh,” Teddy said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Ali hurried it along. “Just as I was looking at this man, a voice said in my ear, ‘The one you love is closer than you know.’ So I turned and there was this monkey.”
Teddy frowned. “Are you sure it was just champagne you had yesterday?”
“It was the fortune teller,” Ali explained. “The monkey was on her shoulder. Then he stole my money and sat on my head until I agreed to have my fortune told.”
Teddy chuckled. “I’m just imagining you with a monkey for a hat. So? What’s the verdict?”
Now it was Ali’s turn to shift awkwardly. The whole experience with Lavinia had really shaken her to the core. For whatever reason, she just couldn’t get over it, over the cooking metaphor and how perfectly it correlated with her life.
“She seemed to think that Willow Bay would provide me with all the answers I was looking for,” Ali said.
“Interesting,” Teddy said. “What else?”
“And that if I keep cooking the same recipe, I’ll always get the same outcome, but if I take a risk and change it, I might not always be right, but it won’t be the catastrophe I expect.”
She thought again of the sprig of spearmint that had set off this whole string of events.
“And?” Teddy prompted.
“And then I left the pier and saw a vacant store. Like right away. I hadn’t noticed it before, but it was right there.”
Teddy’s eyes widened. “Signs!” he exclaimed.
“I knew you’d say that,” Ali replied. “So I thought about how yesterday I’d told you about my dream of running a bakery. And I thought about how Otis is gone and my job is gone, but it’s not anywhere near as bad as I was expecting.”
“Are you seriously telling me you found something a fortune teller said useful?”
“I know. Weird, huh?”
Teddy grew animated. “Ali, you have to go for it.”
She shook her head. As much as she’d love to, relocating and starting her own business felt like far too much on top of everything she was going through.
“I can’t,” she said. “Starting a business is so risky. Especially a food one. Do you know how many businesses make it to their second year? It’s something crazy like two percent!”
Teddy gave her a serious look. “You think anyone’s going to want to hire you after your little crème brûlée mishap? This might be your only option.”
Ali didn’t appreciate his doomy attitude. She was stressed enough about all the changes that had happened recently, she didn’t need him piling on more anxiety.
“I don’t have the money,” she told him, firmly. It was best to nip this in the bud.
“I can lend you some.”
“You?” Ali replied, barking out a laugh. “Since when did you have any money to spare?”
Teddy pointed to his blue-white teeth. “Since my toothpaste commercial.”
Ali paused. She hadn’t actually expected Teddy to have any means to help her.
“I can’t just take your money. You barely earn a thing.”
“Which is more than you earn, sis,” Teddy added. “Since you made yourself unemployed.”
He took a huge bite of pizza, leaving Ali to stew in her reality. He was right. She’d basically burned all her bridges when she’d exploded a crème brûlée in front of a Hollywood executive. Getting a job in LA would be out of the question now. Relocating for work was almost a given. But that didn’t solve the issue of the fact that Russell would be the one giving her a reference, one Ali already knew would be far from glowing.
So Teddy might be right about opening her own business b
eing her only option. But that brought a whole new host of challenges and hurdles with it. Ali wouldn’t even know where to begin with the venture.
“How about this…” Teddy said, wiping the grease from his lips with a napkin. “You show me this store, and we can have a little role play.”
“Teddy,” Ali interrupted, unenthused, “I’m not an actor. I don’t role play my way through situations.”
“Well, I am, and I do,” he replied, sounding uppity. “Come on. I want to see my little sister’s dreams come true, even if it’s just imaginary.”
Ali smiled. She couldn’t help herself. Even when Teddy was pushing her buttons, he did it out of love. And even though running her own bakery could never happen, it would be fun to entertain the idea, even if it was just a fantasy role play.
“Fine, you twisted my arm,” Ali said.
“Yay!” Teddy exclaimed. Then he paused and gestured to their half-eaten pizza. “We’re going to finish this first though, right?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ali and Teddy stood side by side with their noses pressed against the window of the vacant storefront. Inside, the place was in disarray. The large counter was covered in debris. The tiled floor was covered in dust. There were metal brackets on the walls where shelves had once been, and wires hung from the ceiling where the light fixtures had been removed.
“It’s not a lot to look at, is it?” Teddy said.
He moved back from the window. A smear of dirt had transferred from the glass onto his nose.
“Oh, you have a…” Ali began, but she was interrupted by Teddy’s hysterical laughter.
His shoulders shook with amusement as he pointed a finger in her face. Presumably, she had her own nose-smudge. She rubbed it with her palm.
Teddy wiped away his own smudge.
“Okay,” he said, all business. “Let’s get into character.” He shook himself, like an athlete about to start a race. “You’re the world-famous protégé of Milo Baptiste, and I’m your agent.”
Ali laughed. “You do know real people don’t have agents, right?”
“Fine. Lawyer.” He tapped the window, where a handwritten note was stuck to the inside, and wiggled his strawberry-blond brows. “The landlord’s number. Shall we give him a call?”
