The Second Chance Supper Club

by Meier, Nicole

  “And?” Peter asked. “Did you come up with something?”

  Julia’s head dropped. “No. Not really.” She dragged a bare toe through a layer of desert sand and wished she could’ve answered differently.

  “Well damn it, Julia! What the hell are you playing around for? Open your laptop and sign the document! I expect it done within the hour. You’ve been a good staffer in the past. I hate that it has come to this, but honestly, you leave me no choice.”

  She held her breath and waited for him to lower the boom. This was the moment she would be fired. She’d taken it all too far and there was no way to come back from it. Daybreak would keep going with Miller and some bimbo. (Not that she knew anything about her replacement, because she couldn’t even bring herself to tune in and watch ever since Peter had broken the news, but she disliked this Hannah girl out of sheer spite.)

  When Peter didn’t say anything more, she nodded. “Okay, sorry. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good. Do some soul-searching over these next four weeks. Figure out what it is you really want. Because by the way you’re acting, I’m not sure you know. We’ll talk soon.” The phone went dead and he was gone again.

  With a fresh sense of dread, Julia headed back into the house. This was it. She would sign the written apology, it would be sent over to the mayor’s office and likely posted online, and her career would be forever tarnished. She’d made a mistake, and now her ownership of that mistake would be cast in stone. Slipping back through the doorway, she wondered how she ever got here.

  And if she would ever return to the life she used to have.

  Later that afternoon, Julia found Ginny out back. Her sister was dressed in denim from head to toe and was bent over a charming little garden. Julia hadn’t noticed this part of the property before because it was partially obscured by overgrown grasses near the side of the yard. But as she watched Ginny tend to it now, a pair of trimming shears in one hand and a little basket in the other, she marveled at its vitality.

  “I can smell the rosemary from here,” Julia said, approaching. Her eye went to the rectangular bed filled with tiny rows of thyme, coriander, and sage.

  Ginny straightened and smiled. A sprig of the spiky green herb was clutched in her right hand. “Isn’t it the best? This stuff grows wonderfully out here. It loves the desert climate.”

  Julia stepped closer and inhaled. “It reminds me of roasted Thanksgiving turkey. Remember how Mom used to stuff the bird with huge portions of it?” A pang of grief shot through her at the recollection. As a child, Julia had loved the big family spread their mother put on at holidays. Though it was just the four of them, the dining table would be covered in platters of comfort food, and each girl always had a favorite dish. Ginny and Julia were so close back then, blanketed in the security of their parents’ love. But that was another lifetime ago. Neither Ginny nor Julia had brought up their parents much during this visit. Doing so ran the risk of touching on a kind of raw sadness.

  “I remember,” Ginny said softly. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than cooking with rosemary.”

  “Hmm.” They were both silent for a long moment, reflecting.

  “Well,” Ginny said, placing the herbs into her basket, “Olive is responsible for this little patch of heaven.” Her head angled toward the raised bed.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. That girl smooth-talked one of her guy friends into building it, with exacting instructions that it had to be raised to keep out all the critters, and then she took it upon herself to plant the herbs. She even made these sweet little signs for each row in case I forgot what we were growing. Ha! Like I would forget.”

  “It’s really nice.” Julia peered down at the miniature rustic wooden markers with hand-painted labels and mused. They reminded her of something that might appear in the Beatrix Potter books Olive had liked as a child, with stories about Mr. McGregor’s garden. Olive was such an anomaly to her, part hard and wild, the other part creative and loyal. The only difficulty was knowing which girl would show up at any given moment.

  But seeing this garden now suggested Olive’s willingness to connect with her mother. The two might butt heads more often than not, but Olive saw her mother and made little gestures in ways Ginny would appreciate—gardening and floral arrangements being some of them.

  Julia studied Ginny now and wondered if her sister truly recognized this about her daughter. For both their sakes, Julia hoped she did. It wasn’t lost on her how much time had been stolen from her own mother, how unexpectedly that relationship had been taken away by death. It was shameful now to Julia how she’d squandered time with her family, had taken off without much thought and set her sights on the gleaming lure of New York. Sure, she’d kept in touch with her parents, but not nearly enough. Now it was simply too late. This was not what she wished for Ginny and Olive. Time was precious. She understood that now, and the realization was painful.

  “So, I couldn’t help but overhear you on the phone early this morning. I’m guessing it was with someone in New York?” Ginny asked, her mouth twisting as if she wasn’t sure whether she was crossing a line.

  “Oh, you heard that? Sorry, I thought if I went outside, I wouldn’t wake anyone.” She worried just how much had been heard. Her mind quickly ticked back over the details of the call.

  “Don’t worry about it. I tend to toss and turn in the mornings lately. As soon as the sun comes up, my mind starts spinning over what needs to be done for the business.”

  It was strange to hear Ginny call it that. But Julia supposed that’s what Mesquite was: a business. Up until then, she’d considered it a kind of project or experiment her sister was playing around with. Looking back on the past several days, though, she realized this secret supper club was a real venture with real clientele. And Julia had become a small part of it. However temporary, she’d been working right alongside her family to make it succeed.

  “So.” Ginny broke her contemplation. “Everything okay back home?”

  “Oh. Not really.” Julia figured her only option was to be honest. Because at that moment, she wanted to ask Ginny something important. “Ginny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I told you that work didn’t want me around for the next four weeks, what would you say?”

  Ginny paused, her eyes widening. “Really? Wow. I’d say that’s a long time. And I’d say I’m sorry to hear that. I mean, if you are.”

  “Yeah, it’s not great news for my career. And I can’t say I was expecting such a dramatic leave of absence. But what I mean is, what would you say if I asked to stay here for a while? You know, to spend more time with you and Olive?” She shifted, the sensation of being set adrift filling her.

  “You want to stay in Arizona?” Ginny’s face contorted in surprise. “With Olive and me? Even now that you’ve witnessed all the chaos? Are you sure?”

  Julia nodded. She wasn’t totally sure, to be honest. What would James say about it? What would anybody say? But despite her reservations, something deep inside told her it might be the right idea. At least for now. She wasn’t ready to leave.

  “Yeah, even after everything. I think it would be good for me to unplug for a while. I haven’t had a vacation in years. I’d forgotten what the rest of the world looked like. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think my staying might help you out too. I mean, I may not be all that skilled of a server, but it’s free labor. You can’t say no to that, can you?”

  Ginny studied her and then broke into a wide grin. “You’re right. I can’t say no to that. That’s the only kind I can afford.”

  Julia’s heart skipped. “So I can stay?”

  “Yes, you can stay. The guest room is open. But, Julia,” Ginny warned, “I’m sorry to say this isn’t a complete vacation. Right now, Mesquite takes precedence. I was just about to come inside and prep for my next dinner booking. I could use the extra help, seeing as how I don’t have anything planned. It’s a small party, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. But
still, I need an extra pair of hands to wash and chop produce.”

  “Okay.”

  Ginny paused. “Are you sure you want to continue working for me?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Julia stuck out her hand and gestured for Ginny to take it. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such an offer would provide her with this much relief. But it did. “It’s a deal.”

  Ginny produced a gloved hand and clasped Julia’s in return. “Then it’s settled.”

  They both smiled.

  “Let’s go find Olive and get to work on tonight’s menu.”

  Together, they went inside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  GINNY

  By Friday of that week, Ginny was beginning to detect a crack of light seeping into her otherwise dim outlook. Despite her usual worrying over how to improve her finances and the unmended rift with Olive, things were looking up.

  Over the past three days, since Julia’s decision to stay on, the women had come together for the common goal of Mesquite. Preparations for the dinner guests had been divided and delegated among the group. It was the first time in a long while that Ginny had the sensation she had room to breathe—to test out new recipes, plan the shopping, and even catch up on a bit of sleep.

  Olive had also miraculously tempered her sour attitude now that there were three of them in the house. Not entirely, but enough to be civil toward her mother. Ginny supposed this was due mostly to Julia’s presence. Olive had seemed to soften toward Julia after the confession about the blunder at GBN. Olive appreciated honesty. That much was clear. She’d spent the better part of their time together asking Julia questions about life in New York, details of her job, and what it was like to have a fiancé.

  One evening, after a dinner of quinoa salad and butternut squash soup, Ginny observed as the two women huddled together on the living room sofa.

  Ginny hung back in the kitchen, giving them space. Olive had her feet curled under a blanket, Julia facing her only inches away. It both lightened and broke Ginny’s heart in equal parts to watch them like that. Her daughter appeared to listen thoughtfully as Julia spoke about something Ginny couldn’t quite hear. Their heads remained close together as a fire crackled at the hearth just beyond them, their smiles lazy. A half-full bottle of wine rested on the coffee table next to their drained glasses. At one point, she saw Julia reach out and push a stray lock of Olive’s hair behind her ear and smile. It was such a tender moment that Ginny was suddenly ashamed at her prick of envy. It had been years since she and her daughter had talked so intimately. Feeling like a third wheel, she slipped away to her bedroom, leaving the women to enjoy the moment without her.

  She’d wondered where this was all going—her family, the business, her future—and how she could get ahead of it so that it wouldn’t get away from her.

  Now that it was the end of the week and there were guests to prepare for, Ginny’s energy shifted back into high gear. The three of them gathered back in the kitchen just after breakfast to discuss plans.

  “Tonight’s menu is arugula soup followed by acorn squash and stuffed quail with a saba glaze, served with grilled asparagus and polenta. We’ll finish off the meal with a lemon-lavender sorbet. I’ve got to get started prepping now.” Ginny’s brow furrowed as she looked from the handwritten to-do list she was holding to the waiting women. “Olive, can I leave you to do fresh table arrangements? I also need someone to pick up the linens from the dry cleaners. Tell them I’ll pay them later and to put it on my account. Oh, and I noticed we’re nearly out of firewood.”

  “Yes. Got it.” Olive cocked a hip and adjusted the strap of her denim overalls. She stuck out a thumb indicating she’d handle it. Her hair was back in its usual beehive bun, but she was awake and fresh-faced and ready to go. This in itself was an improvement as far as Ginny was concerned. “I’ll take care of the flowers. We’re also running low on votive candles. I need to make a run into the city.” She turned. “Aunt Julia, want to hit the wholesale flower market with me? It’s pretty cool.”

  “S-sure,” Julia stammered, perhaps taken a bit by surprise at Olive’s sudden uptick in enthusiasm. “I’ve never been to a flower market. I thought only florists and wedding coordinators could get into places like that.”

  Olive gave her a knowing look, her eyebrows waggling. “I’ve got my ways. Come on, it’ll be fun if you’ve never been.”

  Ginny couldn’t help but smile. There was a brightness returning to her daughter’s face that had been missing as of late. The fact that she was opening up and inviting her aunt to run errands was a good sign. Normally, Olive preferred to be alone. Sure, she had a few local friends, and there was of course the draw of her father, but seeing her include Julia was something new.

  “Go, you two.” Ginny gestured with a wave. “I’ve got things handled here. It’s still early, so you should have plenty of time. Guests don’t arrive until six thirty tonight.”

  “Mom, I need your credit card if you want fresh flowers. I noticed the big orchid in the foyer is fading too,” Olive said expectantly.

  And just as suddenly as a rose dropping its petals, Ginny’s smile faded. An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. Of course Olive would need money. She’d been so happy to witness her daughter’s brightened mood that she’d neglected to connect the dots and realize what a trip into the city would need: funds.

  Ginny had been a fool to think her financial troubles had subsided.

  She’d already made a big purchase. And her mortgage payment was dangerously late. She’d hidden the last batch of mail in a kitchen drawer so the others wouldn’t see PAST DUE stamped in red ink on a recent bill. The single credit card available might now very well be declined. Nearly all the money Mesquite had brought in the previous weekend had been used to purchase an order of free-range, heritage whole quail, as well as a plentiful amount of their gorgeous speckled eggs, from a boutique farm in another state. The order of bird meat had arrived, and Ginny couldn’t wait to get creative with the weekend menu. In anticipation of the meat, she’d also splurged on an order of truffles for a homemade ravioli starter course she’d planned.

  It was extravagant, considering her present circumstances. But the extra help had allowed her to open up creatively, and in the end, she’d taken the risk. Plus, she knew her dinner guests would appreciate her upping her game. Regulars had reserved the next two nights. Serving up a repeat menu just wasn’t an option.

  On top of the food bills, there’d also been a third person to feed at every meal now that Julia was there. But the idea of admitting this to her unknowing daughter, especially in front of Julia, caused her to tense.

  “Oh, I think I might give you cash today. But let’s hold off on purchasing any new orchids, okay?” She smoothed her face and tried to keep her voice neutral. There was an envelope of emergency money she kept in her cupboard. It was a rainy-day fund she’d set aside a while back, just in case. Thank goodness she had it now. Mesquite had to keep going. And with two helpers now, Ginny just might come out on top.

  Olive cocked her head. “Okay. Cash?” They both knew it was unlike Ginny to have extra money just lying around. Before she’d gone away to her dad’s, Olive had understood funds were tight, but Ginny had never let on how bad things had become. Still, she sensed Olive’s suspicious gaze boring into her as she turned in search of the money.

  Five minutes later, she was pressing a fold of bills into Olive’s hand and giving her instructions not to go overboard with her purchases. Olive pumped her head and said goodbye.

  Ginny watched as Julia and Olive left through the front door, reusable bags in hand. It would be good for her sister to get out and shake the cobwebs of gloom away. While Julia had done her part around the house over the past few days, Ginny couldn’t help but notice a heaviness hanging over her. She assumed Julia was worried about work, probably much more than she’d let on. And then there was the whole business of the fiancé, whom Julia still remained tight-lipped about. Ginny wanted t
o know more, but she also didn’t believe in prying. At least not in this case. Julia would tell her eventually.

  She slid her phone from her pocket to check the time. She didn’t want the day to get away from her. A red button at the bottom of the screen indicated one missed call. How did I miss that? she wondered. Distracted, Ginny pressed the phone to her ear, half listening while a lengthy to-do list ran through her head.

  “Hello, this is Garry calling from Winter’s Gourmet Market. It appears your credit card was declined for your order of truffles. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we’ll need another form of payment. It’s a special order, so cancellations aren’t accepted. Thanks.”

  Damn! Ginny’s gut dropped. Her card was officially maxed out. She’d been counting on that order for her homemade ravioli dish. Without it, her menu would be lacking. Doing some quick mental math, she shuddered. The only emergency-fund money she kept had just walked out the door with Olive. Now what? The store would be expecting its money.

  The only problem was, Ginny didn’t have any.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JULIA

  The first thing Julia noticed as she headed through the automatic sliding doors of the flower market was the intoxicating aroma of all things fresh and sweet. As the women drew farther into the refrigerated warehouse, Julia’s senses lit on a rainbow of eye-catching colors as far as the eye could see.

  A sea of stunning blooms greeted her. Each variety was organized in white buckets by shape and color. Julia felt as if she’d somehow walked onto the set of a vivid Technicolor dream. Of course she’d seen such scenes in the movies, and even had occasioned the odd outdoor market back home, but this place was unlike anywhere she’d been before.

  “This way!” Olive tugged on her arm with a burst of energy. She ushered Julia through the aisles with a keen sense of direction.