Brunch at Bittersweet Café

by Carla Laureano

Rachel smiled. “Thank you, Justin. That’s very thoughtful.”

  Melody slid an arm around Justin’s waist and looked up at him through narrowed eyes. “You brought Rachel jam and you didn’t bring me anything?”

  “I gave you a running and fully detailed car!”

  “Okay, you get a pass.” Melody slipped away from him. “This is Ana.”

  Ana was even shorter than Melody, but the four-inch heels on her boots gave her a boost of height. She gave him a very distinct once-over, top to toe, before looking him straight in the eye and offering her hand.

  Justin took it briefly and gave her a nod. “Ana.”

  It seemed to be the right response, not fumbling for her approval, because after staring him down for a moment longer, she said, “Glad you could make it. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  “Same. It’s pretty clear from the way Melody talks about you two that you’re practically sisters.”

  “That they are,” Alex said from across the room, offering a reprieve. “Wine?”

  “Sure.” Justin edged away from the girls to the only other male in the room as Alex poured him a glass of white wine. After a moment, he said, “Melody told me you’re a writer?”

  “I am. Working on a new collection of essays right now, couple of magazine pieces. You’re a pilot, I understand?”

  Justin nodded.

  “Tough gig, schedule-wise. So you probably understand the crazy that’s their lives, huh?” He nodded toward Melody and Rachel, who were setting the table together.

  Justin sensed this wasn’t just idle conversation—he’d probably been nudged by Rachel to see what Justin thought about the venture. “I’m not sure anyone completely understands it unless they live it. But I get doing what you love even when it doesn’t fit into banker’s hours.”

  “I’m glad they’re doing this. Rachel says she’s happy teaching and going to school, but she chafes at not cooking on a larger scale. I’m hoping this bakery-café is the best of both worlds.”

  “I think Melody misses ‘real baking.’ Making someone else’s recipes just doesn’t suit her.”

  “Talking about us?” Rachel sidled up to Alex, slid an arm around him, and gave him a quick kiss.

  “Talking about how brilliant you’re going to be.”

  “Liar. You’re warning him about how crazy things are about to get and how little you two are going to see us for the next few months.”

  Justin looked from Rachel to Alex, who didn’t seem at all perturbed by the comment. He kissed the tip of his girlfriend’s nose. “Which is why I said we should elope before all the work starts.”

  “Women don’t want to elope. We want the church and the big dress. Especially ones like me, who rarely get to feel pretty.”

  Alex leaned down to whisper in Rachel’s ear, but Justin still caught the words: “You’re always pretty, love, chef whites or white dress.”

  Justin moved away, feeling like he was intruding on a moment. It was plain to anyone who cared to look that Rachel and Alex were mad about each other, completely comfortable and settled in the idea of their life to come. Justin had always shied away from that kind of commitment, knowing how hard it was to make it work, but as he watched Melody across the dining table, he wondered if he hadn’t been too hasty.

  “Need help with anything?” Justin asked.

  “You can open the wine. The reds need to breathe before we serve them.” Melody plunked several dark bottles on the table and handed him a corkscrew. “Ana, can you grab the wineglasses?”

  Ana moved back into the kitchen’s open shelving and collected glasses, bringing them to the table in several batches. Justin took the opportunity to whisper, “So how am I doing?”

  Melody smiled up at him. “They’re still reserving judgment, especially Ana. She’s very protective.”

  “You mentioned that. She doesn’t have any reason to be.” He squeezed Melody’s waist and slid his hand across her lower back, unable to resist touching her. When he moved away to open the bottle of wine, he caught a searching look from Rachel.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Ana quickly placed the last few glasses on the table. “I’ll get it.” A moment later she returned with a very young redheaded woman in tow. “Everyone, this is my assistant, Daphne.”

  Rachel made her way to Daphne to shake her hand. “Glad you could make it. I’m Rachel. Care for a glass of wine?”

  Daphne glanced at Ana and then gave a timid nod.

  Justin leaned over to whisper to Melody. “Let me guess, Ana terrifies her assistant?”

  “I get the impression that Daphne is terrified of everyone at the firm. They’re pretty intense. Ana thought getting together outside the office might loosen her up a bit, build her confidence. She’s brilliant, but so painfully shy.”

  Watching the uncertain way the girl moved through the room, Justin wondered if it would make much of a difference.

  As the time edged toward seven o’clock, the doorbell rang. Alex introduced the newcomer as Bryan Shaw, his closest friend and a professional rock climber. It took only a moment to connect his full name to the real estate mogul Mitchell Shaw, even though he looked nothing like the heir to a family fortune. The climber nabbed a glass of wine and made his way to Ana’s side.

  “Something between those two?” Justin asked Melody in a low voice.

  “Only in Bryan’s head,” Melody whispered back. “He’s a player, and Ana’s not interested.”

  That wasn’t what it looked like from where he stood—Ana was laughing at something Bryan had said, her body language clearly flirtatious—but Justin said nothing. He was the outsider here. There was plenty of history that he didn’t understand.

  He made a quick count. Seven, with eight places at the table. “Are we expecting someone else?”

  “My sister, Dina,” Alex said, going by with a cluster of water glasses. “Ana thought she might loosen Daphne up a little.”

  When the doorbell rang a couple of minutes later and Rachel admitted Dina, Justin saw why. Pretty, tattooed, and pierced, she was so bubbly that the energy level seemed to go up several notches with her presence. Within minutes, she had Daphne engaged in conversation, and the girl’s shoulders were making a slow descent from her ears. He doubted Ana’s assistant noticed the furtive glances Dina was sending Bryan’s way every time he laughed with Ana.

  Justin repressed a smile, feeling more relaxed himself. Everyone had been welcoming, and so far no one had sat him down under bright lights for interrogation. So maybe he was off the hook.

  Rachel put out appetizers while she began to transfer the rest of the meal to the table. Justin hastened to make himself useful, ferrying bowls of a fragrant, pale-green soup from the kitchen as fast as Rachel filled them with a ladle. Crusty bread—Melody’s contribution—went out in a basket, followed by a beautifully plated meat dish and a spring-hued salad. Finally, Rachel tapped a spoon on the side of a water glass to get their attention and call them to the table. Muted conversations continued as they shuffled into place around the table.

  Justin ended up next to Melody on Rachel’s end of the table, across from Alex and Dina. He didn’t miss the way that Bryan swiftly changed direction to nab the seat next to Ana, earning a quickly hidden frown from Dina. Unfortunately, that landed Daphne between Bryan and Justin, which obviously made her uncomfortable again. Poor girl.

  Rachel waited until everyone was seated and then stood. “Welcome, everyone. Thanks for joining us for our last May meeting of the Saturday Night Supper Club. Most of you are friends, but to our newcomers, we’re glad to have you. Tonight, we’re starting with a zucchini gazpacho with leek and crème fraîche, followed by a warm escarole salad with roasted baby root vegetables, and finally an herb-crusted pork tenderloin with mushrooms, fava beans, and charred asparagus. Enjoy.”

  She sounded like a chef on one of those cooking shows, presenting food to the judges, which made Justin smile. He murmured, “You can take a chef out of the restaurant . .
.”

  Melody whispered back, “She pretended that she was going to quit, but we all knew the truth.”

  They started with the soup, which indeed was very good, cool and flavorful. Then dishes were passed family style around the table. Justin took an extra helping of bread and winked at Melody. “Bread is the best part of the meal, in my opinion.”

  “A man after my own heart.”

  He meant it, but Rachel’s food was nonetheless astounding. Somehow she made simple ingredients he’d eaten dozens of times before taste new and fresh. He put down his fork and leaned over to catch her eye. “This is incredible. I’d venture to say your café is going to be a resounding success.”

  Alex caught on and raised his glass. “To Rachel and Melody.”

  The table echoed the sentiment. Then Bryan looked between the two women. “So, when is the big opening?”

  Rachel responded. “Assuming all goes well, we’re planning on a soft opening June 12 and our grand opening the following Saturday.”

  “Which means we probably won’t take a breath until autumn,” Melody said.

  “Are you going to continue to do the supper club?” Justin asked. “It looks like this is a pretty big undertaking.”

  Rachel and Melody exchanged a look he didn’t quite understand, but Rachel answered, “In some fashion. It’s important to me—to us—to continue it.”

  Melody reached for Justin’s hand and squeezed it under the table. “It’s a reminder of why we all cook. It’s pretty easy to let work be all-consuming and forget the people who are important to you.”

  “I can understand that,” he said, turning back to his food, fully comfortable in the midst of this friendly gathering. Too comfortable. He didn’t even see the danger until it was too late.

  And it started with Alex, who he thought was on his side. “Tell us a bit about yourself, Justin. You’re from Colorado?”

  Justin put down his fork. “Born and raised. My dad’s an airline pilot based out of Denver, and my mom’s a teacher. Well, they were. They’re both retired. I guess I followed in both of their footsteps. I was a flight instructor before I was a commercial pilot.”

  “What’s it like?” Dina asked curiously. “Is it as glamorous as it seems?”

  “About as glamorous as being a chef,” he said wryly, and Rachel flashed a smile in understanding. “Strange hours, long days, working on weekends and holidays. Last year I worked on Christmas Day.”

  “Is that why you’re moving to Florida?” Rachel asked. Her expression seemed merely curious, but suddenly Justin felt like he’d been led onto a battlefield littered with land mines, especially with expectant faces swiveling in his direction.

  Justin cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. “I wouldn’t say that’s the reason, but it is something of a benefit.” He explained for confused members of the party, “My brother-in-law and I are in the process of buying an island air charter in Florida. He’s an aircraft mechanic.”

  “Wow.” Dina looked even more impressed than she had before, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might escape unscathed.

  But then Rachel focused in on him with laser-like precision. “So how’s that going to work, exactly? If you’re moving to Florida and Melody is opening a business here . . .”

  Melody stiffened beside him, tension radiating from her like heat from an oven. He placed a calming hand on her knee. “We don’t really know yet. I care about Melody and I want her to do whatever is best for her. We’ll work it out somehow.”

  “With all due respect,” Ana said, “that’s a bit of a cop-out, don’t you think?”

  Melody spoke up, her voice tight. “You know as well as I do that sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. This situation comes as no surprise to God. So why should we wrestle control from His hands?”

  Rachel looked mollified, but if anything, Ana’s gaze only sharpened. “I don’t know. Justin strikes me as a pretty practical sort of guy. What do you think about this whole leap-of-faith theory? Because from where I’m sitting, you don’t look all that convinced either.”

  Now Justin shifted in his seat. This was beginning to turn from a casual questioning into a full-on inquisition, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that anything he said was going to blow up in his face. He should be smart and tell them that he was fully on board with the leap-of-faith theory, that he had full confidence God was in control of their messed-up situation. He was about to do just that, but when he opened his mouth, he said, “I believe in God. But do I believe that He’s up there watching and intervening in everything I do? Honestly, no. I wish I did, but I’ve had too much evidence to the contrary. I think this is something we’ve got to work out for ourselves.”

  Ana nodded slowly. “I see. Good to know where you stand.”

  Silence fell over the table, and slowly, Melody’s hand slid from his. A tiny kernel of cold crept into Justin’s chest.

  Finally, Bryan rose. “Well, props for being honest, brother. That takes some guts in this group.” He walked to the kitchen, retrieved another bottle of wine, and then expertly removed the cork. He refilled Justin’s glass without being asked, gave him a nod that Justin took as a show of solidarity. Or at least respect.

  “Who’s ready for dessert?” Melody asked tightly. She rose so quickly that she nearly knocked over her water glass, then righted it and began to collect empty plates.

  Rachel moved to help, but Melody glared her back down. “Justin, can you give me a hand?”

  “Of course.” He collected the dishes from the other side of the table and carried them to the kitchen behind Melody.

  As soon as they put down their dishes, she moved close and whispered, “I’m sorry about that. I was hoping they’d take it easy on you.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” He looked into her eyes, tried to communicate that her worry was unnecessary. “I just hope I didn’t make trouble for you. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “Nothing I can’t manage.” She didn’t look him in the eye as she pulled a plastic container from the refrigerator. “Grab the cakes from the oven for me?”

  It wasn’t the answer he had hoped for, but he reached for a pot holder and removed a tray of small, round cakes from the oven. “What are these anyway?”

  “Citrus olive oil cakes with mascarpone whipped cream.” Carefully, Melody sifted a bit of powdered sugar over each of the dessert plates, then transferred the cakes to the center of each with a spatula. He watched, fascinated, while she filled a mug with hot water, dunked a tablespoon into it, and then dipped the spoon into her bowl. What came out was a perfectly smooth, football-shaped scoop of whipped cream.

  “Wow, that’s cool.” He peered over her shoulder to see how she did it.

  “Quenelles look nicer than just a dollop, but it’s the same thing.”

  “You’re like a real-deal pastry chef, aren’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Because I can make a fancy scoop of whipped cream?”

  “No, because it matters to you that it’s a fancy scoop of whipped cream.” He slid his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her jawline, aware of the other guests watching, aware he was making a statement. “I can’t wait to see you in your own place.”

  She leaned against him for a second, softening enough that he thought maybe they were okay, even as she continued her process of dipping, scooping, and placing the quenelles on the cakes.

  “Hey,” Bryan called from the table. “You can smooch later. We want our dessert.”

  Melody laughed, but it sounded strained. “Here, help me carry these to the table.”

  As soon as the desserts were placed in front of the guests, all conversation quieted. Justin wanted to believe that they were all just savoring the creamy texture and surprising flavor, but he knew better. He wasn’t sure which had reflected worse on him in this group, his imminent departure or his ambivalent religious beliefs. Either way, he’d let Melody down. She’d wanted one thing—for him to mak
e a good impression on her friends—and he hadn’t even had the sense to tell them what they wanted to hear. If their relationship had been a ticking bomb before, he had just sped up the timer.

  Fortunately, Melody didn’t seem inclined to linger. When Rachel and Alex cleared the dishes, Melody rose. “I hate to run, but Justin and I need to be going. Rachel, the food was amazing as usual.”

  “Thanks. Justin, thank you again for the jellies. I’m already thinking about how to use them.”

  The thank-you might have been sincere, but Rachel’s formality betrayed her discomfort. He shook her hand, then Alex’s and Ana’s. Bryan stayed seated with his glass of wine, sending him a look he could only interpret as “poor sap.” He probably did deserve the sympathy.

  Only when the door closed behind him and he and Melody were alone in the dark did he dare to look her in the face again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  She twisted and gave him a funny look as they walked down the front steps to the car. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. My friends, on the other hand . . .”

  “So it doesn’t bother you, what I said in there? It’s the truth, Melody. I respect your faith, but I’m not sure I’m ever going to trust God like you do. There’s too much water under the bridge between us.”

  “There’s never too much water under the bridge.” She stopped short of the Hornet and turned to him, raising her hand to trail fingertips down his cheek. “You’re a good man, Justin Keller. You might not see it, but I do. It takes courage to be honest even when it might cost you something.”

  With that pronouncement, she moved around the car and unlocked the driver’s door, then leaned across the seat with a half smile to unlock his side.

  Justin slid into the passenger seat and stared at Melody in the darkness. Of all the responses she could have given, this was the last thing he’d expected. Clearly, faith was important to her and her friends or they wouldn’t have ambushed him with that not-so-subtle question. He could tell himself he had just been honest, but he’d known full well what the fallout would be when he opened his mouth. He’d been trying to force her hand, to make her drop him before he had a chance to leave and break her heart.