The Second Chance Supper Club

by Meier, Nicole

  “But what?”

  She hesitated. If she told him the truth, about all the things she was questioning in her mind, it would surely be the start of yet another fight.

  “I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long day—for both of us, I’m sure—and I think I just need a decent night’s rest. Can we go to bed and talk about it more in the morning?” Her voice caught as she inwardly prayed for him to agree. It was true, she was maxed out. At this point, her vision was beginning to blur with fatigue.

  He nodded in slow agreement. “Sure. I guess you’re right. Maybe it’s best to tackle this thing when we’re fresh. But . . .” He paused, his eyes grazing over the compact daybed. “Where am I supposed to sleep? That tiny bed of yours can’t possibly hold both of us. Should we go to a hotel?”

  Julia smiled in spite of herself. “I guess it is a little cramped in here for two people. How about I make up a spot on the couch in the living room? Ginny won’t mind. It’s not perfect, but it’s a better option than you driving around in the dark, searching blindly for a hotel. This isn’t the city; things aren’t as easy to find out there in the desert night.”

  “You’re telling me. It’s kind of desolate out here.” He shuddered. “Once I turned the rental car away from the airport, I wasn’t sure where I was headed. How does she stand being so removed from it all? I mean, it’s nothing like Manhattan, that’s for sure.”

  Julia smiled. “Yes.” She was about to say that’s what was so nice about the place, but she decided against it. James wouldn’t understand and had zero interest in sticking around long enough to try to.

  Together they gathered up extra bedding from a linen closet and made a temporary bed for James. Julia said good night and flicked off the last remaining lamp. Tiptoeing back to her own room, she prayed for clarity to come in the morning. Because at that moment, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  And that was what frightened her the most.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  GINNY

  Last night’s surprise arrival of Julia’s expensively dressed Wall Street fiancé had set the whole household off-kilter.

  Not that it hadn’t been headed in that direction anyway.

  After tending to Shane’s ill friend, executing the remainder of her dinner menu—thankfully rescuing the mushroom puree from the oven in time to liquefy it with a dash of milk—she and Olive managed to get everyone fed and out the door in one piece. The entire episode, paired with her looming angst over the food blogger, had left Ginny frazzled and worn out. She could only imagine how Julia felt.

  By Julia’s stunned look, she hadn’t exactly been thrilled to see their new houseguest. And, Ginny thought, neither had Shane. The poor guy had slunk back into the dining room after meeting James and then proceeded to sulk in his chair like a forlorn adolescent all through dinner. Even Olive had noticed his change in demeanor, asking gently if he was worried over his sick friend. Shane had smiled pitifully and said everything was “just fine, thank you.”

  And this morning in the living room, sitting on a half-made sofa, was James. The mysterious boyfriend. Ginny found herself wondering what to say.

  She was still groggy-eyed and doped up on the half of a sleeping pill she’d allowed herself the night before. It wasn’t a habit she practiced often, but when the pressures got to be too much for her exhausted brain, Ginny succumbed. If she didn’t, she would spend the whole night tossing with worry.

  The prior evening had been a near miss with the Angie disaster. What if the authorities really had come? There wasn’t enough money in Ginny’s bank account to pay her most recent food bill, let alone whatever penalty would’ve resulted if the cops had been called. Once again, she’d overextended herself. It wasn’t as if she set about to do it, but she held herself to such a high standard and wasn’t willing to sacrifice the quality of the food she served. It was a mistake she had to stop making. She knew this.

  Throw yet another prying stranger into the mix, and recent events had felt downright out of control. She’d needed a solid night’s sleep to forget it all until the morning.

  “Good morning,” James said now, rising to greet her as she entered the room. Ginny closed the gap between them with palpable unease. She hastily smoothed her wild hair. Being half-drugged might not make the best impression. She supposed she should have at least brushed her teeth.

  “Good morning.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that we made up your sofa at the last minute. Julia thought it was better than me looking for a hotel at all hours of the night.” James’s hand went to the back of his neck and rubbed. Ginny noticed his button-down shirt was rumpled and a thatch of his thick brown hair stood on end at the crown. The whites of his eyes were vaguely bloodshot. She studied him, standing there, shifting on socked feet. He was certainly handsome, but in a way that was overly manicured, like a forty-year-old Ken doll with dark hair and a suit. She supposed this was Julia’s usual type. The professional kind with a strong jaw and piercing gaze.

  Ginny shook her head. “No problem. Hope it was comfortable.”

  “Oh yeah, just fine. Thanks.” He offered a crooked smile, revealing a noticeable dent in the confident armor he’d worn last night.

  “Julia still sleeping?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I’ve just been out here answering emails on my phone. I didn’t want to wake her just yet.”

  Ginny nodded. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with this stranger, her fingers tugged at her pullover sweatshirt. She’d at least had the foresight to get dressed before emerging from her room. Something had told her she wouldn’t be alone. She caught his eyes moving in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” She tipped her head.

  “That’d be great,” he said, with a lopsided smile of relief.

  Well, at least they could relate over the importance of a strong cup of coffee to start the morning; the rest of his lifestyle, she’d had to leave behind long ago.

  A half hour later, after Ginny and James had indulged in several refills of dark French roast and a crumb-filled plate of day-old scones, Julia emerged. At the sight of her, Ginny and James brightened in unison.

  “Hi, you two.” Julia padded in with bare feet. A long cashmere sweater was draped loosely over a wispy nightgown. She blinked repeatedly against the glowing morning light. As she drew nearer, Ginny noticed circles of red rimming her sister’s eyes. She wondered if Julia had been crying. It was difficult to tell, considering her perky smile. Either her sister was truly happy to see them, or she was good at faking it.

  Ginny’s gut told her it was the latter. She was a trained TV personality, after all; that smile could be tacked on with the snap of a finger.

  “Hi, babe.” James jumped up, his voice a touch too eager. With quick strides, he was at her side and gave her a peck on the cheek. Julia returned the gesture robotically and then went for the coffee maker. There was something in the way James moved, almost fidgety, that Ginny took as anxious anticipation. She assumed he couldn’t wait to get out of there, away from obsolescence and back to the familiar city. She wondered if Julia wanted the same thing.

  “Have you both been getting to know one another better?” Julia asked, choosing to lean on the counter and cross her ankles rather than hover over their table.

  “Oh yeah.” James pumped his head, the tuft of hair still standing up. “Your sister was nice enough to make me breakfast.”

  “Oh no. That’s not a real breakfast; I’m sorry to say I wasn’t exactly on my game this morning. It was a long night. Just had some leftovers from the bakery.”

  “Oh, I love anything from the bakery. I’d have their pastries every day if I could,” Julia mused.

  “Ha! I pretty much do. And now look at me!” Ginny snorted and patted her belly.

  James suddenly appeared squirmy. “Well, whatever it was, I appreciated it.”

  “Anytime.” Ginny sensed he didn’t entirely mean it. The two of them had endured the forced exchange of superficial
small talk until Julia arrived. She and James had swapped reports of the weather—Arizona’s and New York’s—and brief updates on life in Manhattan. Ginny had smirked inwardly. She might as well have switched on the television. James didn’t seem to be interested in any kind of in-depth conversation.

  Perhaps he wasn’t sure where the sisters stood in their relationship, and he wanted to protect Julia. Or, Ginny feared, maybe there just wasn’t much substance to the guy. If that was the case, she hoped her sister would see him for who he was and move on. She couldn’t imagine being married to someone who was all business and no heart.

  But then again, she’d fallen for Will all those years ago. And he was all heart and no business. Look where that got her. Ginny pushed the thought aside. What did she know, anyway? She hadn’t dated anyone in years. She was no expert on relationships; that was for sure. All she knew was that she wanted her sister to be happy. That was all that mattered. That and Olive’s happiness. They both deserved that much.

  “So,” Julia broke in, “I think I’ll take James outside onto the back patio so he can see the view. C’mon, James. We can take our coffees out there and talk some more.”

  “Great.”

  Ginny took this as her cue to give them some privacy. She imagined James was there to take Julia back home. She wondered if her sister would leave sooner than she’d planned. She had to admit, she’d be crushed if Julia did. They’d just begun to get into their sibling rhythm again. Ginny had enjoyed having her sister around. And she knew Olive did as well. Her daughter’s volatile attitude had completely turned around over the past several days. It was almost as if Julia’s presence had shed a whole new light on Olive. Ginny had to admit, it had done the same for her.

  Now James was there to bring all of this to a close, and she felt the curtain dropping.

  “Sure. Of course. You both go out and enjoy the morning. Take a load off. You’ve earned it, Julia. I’ll see you in a little while.” Ginny collected the short stack of dirty dishes and deposited them into the sink. Backing out of the room, she gestured for James and Julia to go on.

  Just before she turned to leave, she glanced at her sister. There was conflict in Julia’s face; she could tell. It would be up to her whether she stayed or went. Ginny supposed Julia would have had to make that choice eventually anyway.

  Making her way down the hall, she stopped at Olive’s room. She pressed a palm silently against the door. If she listened hard enough, she thought she could hear the rustling of her daughter’s downy covers as she turned over in bed. It was coming up on nine in the morning, far too early for Olive to emerge from the fog. Her daughter was nothing if not consistent with her need to sleep late after a night of work.

  But unlike on so many other mornings, Ginny was comforted that just on the other side, her daughter remained in her somnolent cocoon. Having Olive under her roof felt nice. It wouldn’t last forever; Ginny knew this. Her daughter was a grown woman now, most likely with plans and dreams of her own. It was only a matter of time before Ginny would have to let her go. She couldn’t hold on to Olive forever, expecting her to serve the guests of Mesquite and help grow a business that wasn’t her own, especially not for paltry wages. It wasn’t fair. Olive had been trying to tell her this for years, only Ginny hadn’t listened. She saw that now.

  Maybe it had taken the presence of her little sister to help Ginny recognize this about Olive. They each had to find their way, wherever that might lead.

  Moving beyond the door, Ginny trod unhurriedly to her own room. Things were beginning to shift; she could feel it. And she needed to be prepared. In response, a plan was beginning to form.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  JULIA

  “I don’t think I’m going home just yet,” Julia blurted out. She fiddled with the frayed edge of a patio cushion while James lowered himself into a teak chair and gaped.

  The heat of the day was just beginning to descend, the sun’s glowing rays casting a peach-colored hue on the earth below. James tilted forward and squinted against the increasing brightness. Julia could tell he was having a difficult time processing.

  Her metropolitan fiancé seemed so out of place here, surrounded by the natural landscape of scrubs and cacti, with his dark wool slacks, deeply creased designer shirt, and polished shoes. None of it fit with the relaxed setting of the desert. And, she woefully realized, James’s all-business attitude didn’t quite fit with her current frame of mind either.

  For all intents and purposes, Julia had shed her city skin to adapt to her new environment. Or maybe it was just coming home, like putting on a well-worn sweater that was moth eaten and stretched but still the coziest choice of all. She’d found that doing so had brought on a welcome kind of ease, one that allowed her to settle into herself more deeply.

  And she wasn’t prepared to give that up.

  “What do you mean?” Dismay dropped down over James’s unshaven face. This was going to be a lot harder than Julia had thought.

  “I don’t mean to just spring it on you,” she said. “But I’m not ready.”

  Fumbling with her ring, she felt a pang of something between guilt and regret. They’d been through so much together. Even so, there was resolution in her decision. She hadn’t been sure when she’d gone to bed the night before. But now she knew. James’s arrival had confirmed what she’d suspected for some time but had been too afraid to admit. They both wanted different things.

  “Oh.”

  I’ve disappointed him, Julia thought. And it occurred to her then, as she searched his face, that she was tired of being a disappointment. She was tired of the weight it carried. Of course James hadn’t ever meant for his expectations of her, of them, to be more than she could handle. Julia knew this. But somehow they were. And they both deserved to be with people who accepted them for who they were, where they were, at the present moment. Instead of constantly wishing for more.

  Somehow she needed him to see this. She also needed to accept responsibility.

  “I know it’s been terribly unfair to keep you in the dark. I ran away without warning. It wasn’t right. I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

  He shifted. “Yeah, it hasn’t been easy.”

  “I needed time. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I went away. You know,” she stalled, her voice cracking, “things—our lives in particular—have been pretty crazy lately. And then that disaster with work happened, and it all became too much.”

  His frown deepened. “So you’re saying things with me became too much? I was part of the problem?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not at all. You’re not the thing I was running away from. I was escaping my own mess. But in the process of untangling it all, of getting quiet and figuring out what I really wanted, I discovered that my outlook has changed. I’ve changed. I no longer want the same things for my career, for my environment even, that I once did. And I know it’s hard to hear. But part of my realization is that you and I are not in the same place we once were either. If we’re honest with ourselves, I think we want different things.”

  He swallowed, his eyes drifting downward. She watched as he grew quiet. Only his mouth twitched as he considered her words.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” She swiped at the silent flow of fresh tears, noticing James’s eyes grow misty as he listened. “And it doesn’t mean I don’t love all the time we’ve spent together. You and I shared something special. It’s just that . . . it’s just I don’t think what we shared can evolve in the direction I’m going. I believe it’s best if we both go after what we’re passionate about, not just what we’re comfortable with. In all honesty, I think it would be better for both of us if we moved on. I’m so sorry.” A lump settled high in her throat. As necessary as it was to admit the truth out loud, doing so felt like experiencing a death of sorts.

  James’s shoulders rose and fell. His expression was full of sorrow. “I’ve been thinking too,” he said. “While I still had hope for us, I
guess some of what you’re saying is true. We do seem to want different things. I mean, seeing you out here, at your sister’s place, feels like visiting a stranger. It’s surreal. Here’s my fiancée, but suddenly she’s someone I no longer recognize. I’m not saying this in a bad way. Quite frankly, you seem more peaceful, more comfortable in your skin out here. And I hate to admit you found a way to be so content in my absence. I’m not going to lie. It hurts.”

  Julia nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know it sounds self-centered,” James continued. “But that’s how I feel. It just sucks to discover you that way without me. And I certainly don’t embrace this environment the way you seem to have done. It all feels so foreign. The opposite of exciting, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know,” she said.

  James chuckled softly. “It’s beautiful and all, don’t get me wrong. But it’s so damned quiet. So remote. I couldn’t live like this.”

  “I know you couldn’t.” For the first time, she grinned. She knew exactly what James meant. He was far more comfortable in the center of the action. He was the kind of person who thrived on other people’s—lots of other people’s—energy. He liked the hustle and bustle. He sought it out wherever they went. She didn’t fault him for that. It was just in his makeup.

  “And I don’t want you to be anywhere you’re not happy,” she said. “That’s where we differ because I discovered that I like being back here. My sister and niece are a big factor. I feel at home again after all this time away. It didn’t come at once. But I found a comfort here. I found I’m okay with the quiet. Perhaps I was running from being alone for so many years. I never allowed myself to even try. But once I did, I enjoyed it. Does that make any sense?” She so badly wanted him to understand. To be okay with her decision. Somehow, if he was, she might not feel so guilty for being the first to let go.

  “It does,” he replied. “It hurts like hell, but I understand. I really do.”

  As difficult as it was for James to accept defeat, Julia believed he knew that what she was doing was the right thing. They didn’t belong together. Not anymore.