The Second Chance Supper Club

by Meier, Nicole

  And then there was Olive to consider. Where on earth was her niece? The last Ginny had heard, Olive was still yo-yoing between her mother and her father. That much probably hadn’t changed. She knew the girl held an affinity for her artsy father but also kept a somewhat forced loyalty to Ginny. It had been a hard situation to watch while they still lived in New York. Julia had tried, years ago, to be present in Olive’s life. But so much had changed.

  A twinge of guilt came over her as she thought about it. She should have tried harder to reach Olive via text or email or something over the past few years. Despite the widening gap between Julia and her sister, Olive should have been better looked after. Instead, Julia had let work consume her schedule and her dear niece slip from her life too easily.

  It was a shame that had clung to the shadows of Julia’s mind for too long.

  Gripping the wheel tighter, she tried to bring up an image of Olive’s young face. The wide-eyed little girl who used to fall into fits of contagious laughter and had the ability to fill any dull room with joy. Julia loved that girl. She needed to find her now and tell her she was sorry. That she’d do better, no matter what her relationship was with her sister. An aunt should be someone to be relied upon. It was a precious role Julia had been given, but she’d fallen short in her duties. She’d make up for it somehow.

  She just needed to get to Ginny’s. Before she lost her nerve.

  Thirty minutes later, after snaking over highways and onto a quieter road that pointed toward the mouth of the foothills, Julia neared Ginny’s listed address (thank goodness for the online white pages). She checked the time and wondered what her sister might be doing at seven thirty in the evening on a Friday night.

  Her thoughts drifted.

  The western sun lingered overhead, despite the dinner hour. After being away for so long, Julia had nearly forgotten about the Arizona skies. Witnessing her surroundings now, a powerful nostalgia welled up. Images of her mother in the backyard, picking lemons from a row of citrus trees, her father tipping back his hat under the summer sun, and Ginny’s bright face during their childhood games of hide-and-seek among the saguaros all came rushing back. These were memories she carried from a simpler time, and that time was now gone.

  Julia craned her neck to peer upward through the bug-pitted windshield. A pinkish glow radiated overhead. Peaked mountaintops stood silhouetted in the distance, large shadows against the changing light. A thin ribbon of blue remained at the crest of the skyline, and a few bright stars could be seen as evening morphed into night. The beauty that greeted her was overwhelming.

  She was starting to recall a bit of the appeal, why her sister returned home and then stayed there. But only a bit.

  Easing her foot off the gas, she scanned the area. The homes, which were popping up more frequently now, mirrored the color palette of the sky.

  Ginger-hued adobe buildings rose up from the brown earth, colorful and warm. Some were clustered together and modest in stature; others were situated on swaths of cactus-dotted land with gated driveways, outdoor decks, and visible swimming pools. The modernized pueblo-style architecture of the homes was impressive.

  She’d passed a couple of swanky resorts just north of downtown, luxurious-looking ones that had soothing names and most likely equally soothing spa services. She’d made a mental note of their locations, just in case this surprise visit with Ginny didn’t go well and she needed a place to stay. Not that she could afford to splurge too much, but still. The idea of a deep-tissue massage followed by an aromatherapy steam shower was rather tempting. She might very well require that type of rescue from her current predicament back home.

  What awaited her now was anyone’s guess.

  The automated voice on the navigation app announced she’d reached her destination. Julia sucked in her breath and looked around.

  So this is Ginny’s street. Instinctively, she stopped. Maybe this was a bad idea. Now that she was here, a matter of feet from her sister’s house, she wondered if she was running the risk of disaster.

  Don’t back out now, she told herself. It was important to be brave. And why couldn’t she be? After all, she’d taken all kinds of chances as a reporter over the years, overstepping boundaries and pushing a microphone into people’s faces. What was her problem now?

  She knew what it was. She’d lost her nerve.

  Before she could fully pull over to the curb and gather up a bit of bravery, bright lights sliced through the darkened neighborhood and a car unexpectedly peeled down a gravel drive. It barreled out in her direction. Julia swerved, narrowly avoiding the headlights on an oncoming Jeep as dust and debris kicked up into the air. The Jeep’s windshield was partially obscured, but for a half second she thought she recognized the driver. A young woman with a flurry of highlighted hair sped past her, nearly causing a collision.

  “What on earth?” Julia removed her jittery hands from the wheel and then let them drop into her lap. Relieved she’d avoided an accident, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

  And then she started, the cogs in her brain still spinning. That wasn’t just any girl. That was Olive.

  A flag of worry flickered. If that really was Olive flying out of there, then Julia suspected trouble. And now here she was, about to walk into it.

  She hesitated for a minute longer, calculating.

  The Jeep had come from a narrow driveway just a few yards ahead. Julia glanced in both directions and realized there were hardly any other residences around. This tucked-away neighborhood had a remote feel to it, with scrubs and spindly trees occupying the empty space. It was almost like another planet.

  Was her sister living like a hermit?

  Shifting the car carefully back into gear, Julia eased parallel to the curb until she reached the still-dusty driveway. Putting the car back into park, she stared.

  Dusk had just fallen, and it would have been difficult to see save for the twinkle of lights at the top of a small rise. Julia climbed out of the driver’s side and squinted. A front patio was strung with tiny white party lights, and more light poured from the windows of a single-level adobe home.

  Curiosity tugged at her. Snatching her purse, she trudged up the gravel drive. It wasn’t terribly steep, but her footing was off due to the loose rocks. She cursed herself for wearing shoes with a heel. They were impractical for travel, but then again, her head hadn’t been fully clear when she’d fled town.

  Closer now, she was able to make out the front of the property. A scattering of outdoor lights lit the way. It was charming, really. The gravel entrance led to a circular drive with an umbrella-like tree right in the center. A kind of rustic gate fashioned from wooden sticks was unlatched, and it swung onto a footpath leading to a bright-blue door. The house itself was a cream-colored stucco in a style similar to the adobe houses Julia had seen along her drive. This one had a kind of historic feel to it, with arched entries and sunken windows. There was even a part of the roof that appeared thatched. Glimpsing to her right, she noticed a small fountain gurgling near the front door.

  Julia’s breath caught as she came to stand closer still, now on the front path’s row of brick-colored pavers. Her feet ached from the trek up the driveway. Seeing the smooth, warm pavers, she had a sudden—if not inexplicable—urge to slip out of her shoes and spread her bare toes on their surface. The whole path felt oddly reassuring somehow, as if she was welcome even though unexpected.

  “Huh,” she murmured to herself. This wasn’t at all what she’d imagined. But then again, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find. Certainly, Ginny had always had good taste, with an eye for all things comfortably elegant. But when Julia had heard that her sister had sold their childhood home and bought a place in the desert, she’d envisioned something more rustic.

  The exterior of Ginny’s attractive home indicated her sister hadn’t fully gone off the deep end. But just to be sure, she needed to get inside and lay her eyes on the place. And on Ginny.

  Approaching the f
ront door, Julia heard a trickle of laughter float through an open window. She froze.

  Both male and female voices could be overheard, joining in the low din of lively conversation. She started again, her finger hovering over the doorbell. She hadn’t expected Ginny to be entertaining. Was she about to crash a party? Her finger hung in midair a second longer as she debated. Creating a scene was the last thing she wanted.

  Now or never, Julia.

  On impulse, she pressed the doorbell. Fast footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. Julia’s leg twitched; she forced herself not to turn away. If she embarrassed herself, so be it. At this point she had little left to lose.

  The door flung open. “Olive?” Ginny’s expectant eyes looked out, searching, and then bulged. The gleam of a white chef’s coat pulled across her shoulders. Ginny recoiled. Her face was red, and Julia noticed small beads of perspiration gathered at her temples. A deep line of worry hung above her brow. They both stood there a beat longer as a mixture of disappointment and shock crossed over Ginny’s face. Julia was not at all whom she was expecting.

  “Oh!” Ginny gasped. A bit of color drained from her face. “It’s you.”

  “Hello, Ginny.” Julia attempted a smile and waited for her appearance to sink in. She wondered why her sister was wearing a work outfit. Was she catering something? At her own house? She’d assumed Ginny had given up being a chef when she left New York. This didn’t make any sense. “Is this a bad time?”

  By the stunned expression on Ginny’s face, she was sure it was.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GINNY

  The words caught in Ginny’s throat. Discovering her younger sister in her doorway had kicked up an unexpected tornado of grief and anxiety that swirled wildly inside her. Standing speechless, she tried to unscramble the bizarre turn of events. First, Olive had stormed out. In her place, astoundingly, was her little sister, whom she hadn’t seen or heard from in years.

  Three long years of tension and resentment. And silence.

  What exactly was going on?

  Her eyes searched Julia with disbelief. There was her sister, looking like she hadn’t aged a bit, all polished and put together and expectant. This was real. It just made no sense.

  A burst of laughter, followed by the clinking of stemware, trailed out from the dining room. Ginny cringed and then threw an uneasy glimpse over her shoulder toward her waiting guests. Hastily, she whipped her focus back to her sister.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

  “What are you doing here?” Ginny’s inquiry was delivered with an edge of accusation. She opened her mouth to ask another question but then snapped it shut. She hadn’t meant it to sound that way, but this was the worst possible timing for an unannounced visit. Especially one that could be volatile. She and her sister hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.

  And now she didn’t know how to feel. Or what Julia wanted.

  “I came to see you. And Olive.” Julia’s voice croaked, and she offered a timid smile. “Surprise.”

  “Yeah, surprise is right.” Ginny ran a hand over the back of her neck, her level of discomfort rising.

  Julia waited with blinking eyes.

  “I thought you might be Olive.”

  “I think I saw her driving away,” Julia said. A manicured hand waved in the direction of the road. “Does she have a Jeep?”

  That was her. Ginny deflated. She swiped the tea towel she was wearing at her forehead and then let it drop to her side. “Damn. I can’t believe she took off like that.”

  She scanned the distance beyond Julia’s shoulder. Fresh anxiety bubbled up. What was she going to do now? There was an entire evening’s worth of dinner guests to wait on and no one around to help. Ginny couldn’t afford to send anyone away. There was too much riding on the evening.

  Julia shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Oh! Well, hopefully she’ll be back soon?”

  “I don’t know.” Ginny felt the hope draining out of her. She studied Julia. “This is quite a surprise. But it’s kind of a, um . . .” She wavered. One part of her wanted to grab Julia by the shoulders and pull her close, to pepper her with questions about why she had come. To find out if Julia was sorry and if she’d finally come to make amends.

  But the other part of her, the practical and responsible side, needed to send Julia away before more damage could be done. There was an entire roomful of customers—paying customers—waiting on her. Food was likely burning on the stove at that very moment. Sauces would be curdled, vegetables would go limp.

  Ginny had her daughter to blame. Olive had gotten too angry and left her mother in the lurch, right in the middle of preparing the main course. Because of this, there was now no one to serve. And time was not on Ginny’s side.

  The evening was already running terribly behind, thanks to Olive’s antics, and another shift of diners was expected to arrive shortly. On top of all this, Ginny’s only sibling had shockingly appeared out of nowhere and landed on her doorstep with a heavy look of expectation. What in the hell was Ginny supposed to do?

  Julia faltered in the doorway, the points of her high heels balancing just over the threshold. Her voice rose into a tight question. “I could come back if you want. Tomorrow?”

  What was she to say? Ginny’s mind raced. Her eyes darted to her wristwatch. Damn! She was so far behind. Plus, she was worn out. Between fighting with Olive and trying to keep up with a demanding double shift, her limbs were weary and her head ached. A layer of sticky sweat had settled just underneath her chef’s coat. All she wanted to do was find a soft spot and collapse. But there was no time for that. Not if she wanted to keep Mesquite’s reputation and get paid.

  She summoned up a bit of energy and then studied Julia. “You for sure saw Olive take off in her Jeep?”

  Julia pumped her head. “Yeah, she looked like she was in kind of a hurry.”

  Ginny snorted. “You could say that.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Help? She did need assistance. Preferably from Olive. Ginny’s mouth twisted; she was ready to decline Julia’s offer. It was absurd to involve her sister. Mesquite wasn’t for everyone, and Ginny preferred to keep it that way.

  Besides, Julia surely didn’t realize what she was asking. And she wasn’t normally one to be relied on for help. Not really. But still, should Ginny accept? She really didn’t want to. The rational side of her brain knew doing so would turn out disastrous. How could it not? Yet Ginny’s present circumstance felt equally absurd. She was overextended in every sense of the word.

  Gathering herself up, Ginny prepared to eat crow.

  She gave her sister a once-over, taking in the done-up hair and perfectly applied makeup. Julia’s bird-thin torso was sheathed in an expensive-looking silk blouse that revealed faint semicircles of sweat under her arms. Ginny wondered how long Julia’d been traveling. The hike up the rocky driveway would have been treacherous in those ridiculous heels. Her sister looked out of place. This wasn’t the city. Julia’s polished, metropolitan ensemble looked as if she might have just walked off the set of Daybreak.

  Ginny knew some of Julia’s present life. Julia was a cohost for a morning show with a major news organization. She only half-heartedly followed her sister’s career online and tuned into the show occasionally. While she’d wanted to learn of Julia’s success, sometimes it hurt too much to witness it. Ginny was always left with a bitterness that was difficult to ignore. That and regret.

  A memory of their last time together dislodged itself and began to play back in her mind. She recalled an argument fraught with grief and misunderstanding. A room full of moving boxes and hurtful words. The image of her sister’s rigid back as she stormed away.

  “Ginny?”

  Ginny shook herself from the recollection. Precious minutes were being wasted. “Your timing is kind of lousy,” Ginny admitted. “I don’t really know what brought you here. And I’m sure whatever it is requires a lengthy discussion. B
ut if you’re really offering to help, I could use it.”

  Julia stepped forward, her white teeth gleaming. “Yes. Anything! What do you need?”

  “What I need is no questions asked. Not tonight, anyway. I just need help. Do you think you can agree to that?” Ginny scrutinized her sister’s face and tried to press back her mounting anxiety as she waited for an answer.

  “Okay. Agreed.”

  “Come on, then.” She waved Julia inside and instructed her to follow as quickly and quietly as possible. Scurrying through the living room and into the kitchen’s side entrance, they were able to avoid being seen. Ginny hastily checked the still-simmering pots, lifting the metal lids and sticking her nose down for close inspection. She then switched off all four burners. Luckily, none of the delicate sauces had been scorched.

  She could feel Julia’s wide eyes on her as she flung open drawers to produce clean utensils. Her kitchen was much messier than she normally kept it. And there were strangers waiting in the next room. There would be judgment, Ginny was sure of it. Julia was good at that part. But she was willing to deal with those repercussions tomorrow. Tonight, she needed to cook.

  “Here,” she urged under her breath. Julia appeared frightened by her curt tone. “Wash your hands and put this apron on. You remember how to serve, don’t you? Like when we used to work at Manny’s together?”

  Julia’s well-defined brows shot up. “I’m serving? Food? To those people in the other room?” A lacquered nail pointed. Ginny could tell by her sister’s alarmed expression that the statement had thrown her off-balance.

  “Yes, just pretend you’re in high school again. Seriously, this is a big deal to me. I promised I would explain tomorrow, and I will. But for right now I’ve got six hungry people in there.” She angled her head toward the adjacent dining room. “Another ten are coming thirty minutes from now. I’m behind schedule and understaffed. This is you, helping. And this is me, accepting. So tie that apron around your waist and start taking out plates once I’ve placed them on the counter. As fast as you can. Comprende?”