“No, I was thinking of smaller tables. Leah suggested a mixture of different sizes, shapes, and colors. She saw several at the antique store, but I’m not convinced that all that color and contrast would work.”
“I liked the booths by the windows,” Steven said. “They were comfortable and more private.”
“Yes, but remember all the torn places on the vinyl seats and how they had repaired them with duct tape?”
Steven nodded and placed his plate and fork in the sink. “Except for that, I liked the booths. But they were old. Maybe something manufactured during this millennium would stand the wear and tear better.” He came over to where Genevieve was cleaning the stove and wrapped his arms around her waist. “How about if you and I go to the coast this weekend?”
“This weekend?” Genevieve asked.
“Yeah, this weekend. How about it?”
“We could get away on Sunday afternoon,” Genevieve said. “The girls have been wanting to go back to the tide pools ever since we were there last August.”
“I meant just the two of us. For the whole weekend.” Steven kissed Genevieve’s neck.
She was about to say she couldn’t leave the café, but Leah entered and said, “Okay, you two, I saw that. No kissing the cook when she’s working.”
Steven pressed a deliberate kiss on Genevieve’s cheek. “I’ll make all the arrangements. We can leave tomorrow as soon as you close up shop. I have to fly out on Monday.”
“Monday?” Genevieve turned and looked at Steven. “You just got back. Why so soon?”
“Route changes. On Monday I fly to Denver for a meeting.”
“How can you fly again so soon? Aren’t you supposed to have a longer layover? That doesn’t seem right. Are you sure you have to go?”
Genevieve didn’t care if her daughter on the phone or Leah, who was loading the dishwasher, heard her less than cordial response to Steven’s announcement.
“I have to be there for the meeting,” he said. “And I won’t be the pilot on the flight to Hong Kong. I’m one of a dozen pilots who are being cross trained for a new route. I’ll be there for three days, and then I return and connect with my usual route from Singapore.”
The details only confused Genevieve.
Steven kissed her again. “I told Mallory I’d pick her up after soccer practice. Think about this weekend and tell me when you get home.” Turning to Anna, he said, “Are you ready to go, Sunshine?”
The two of them were about to leave when Leah closed up the dishwasher and asked Steven, “So what do you think about our idea to sell the tables and chairs?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
Genevieve clenched her teeth. For years Steven had given her that answer to a wide variety of her questions. It didn’t matter if her question was, “What do you want to name our daughter?” or “Which restaurant would you like to go to?” Steven responded with the same line.
“It’s always up to me,” Genevieve muttered.
Leah leaned against the counter. “I wish my hubby were as easygoing as yours. Seth is more opinionated than I am when it comes to details. Sometimes I wish he would just leave the decision up to me so I didn’t have to filter everything through all his preferences.”
Genevieve pressed her lips together and vigorously scrubbed around the burner on the stove. She knew Leah had a point. She should consider Steven’s trust in her decisions an indication of his confidence in her.
“Tell Shelly we’ll sell the tables,” Genevieve said suddenly to Leah. “Tell her we can deliver them sometime next week.”
“How about next Wednesday?” Leah asked. “Seth said he could borrow one of the PDS trucks from work and take all the tables to Camp Heather Brook in one trip.”
Genevieve nodded. Leah’s being married to a man who worked for a delivery service was a nice advantage. “That would be great. Tell Seth I’ll be happy to pay him for the gas and his time.”
“That’s not a problem,” Leah said. “We can work something out.”
“Now we need to get some new tables.”
“Have you had a look at Lauren’s antique shop? You could stop by there on your way home.”
“Good idea. Oh, and, Leah, I have one more situation to figure out. Steven wants to go to the coast this weekend, but—”
Leah jumped in. “Sounds like a great idea. Have fun.”
“No, we’re not going,” Genevieve said. “What it made me think of is that for future weekends, when either one of us needs a Saturday off, we should interview those women you told me about. I’m hoping that we’ll see business pick up soon. When we do, we’ll need to hire someone part time to fill in for us.”
“Finding someone to work here isn’t a problem,” Leah said. “I can get a high school girl to come in Saturday and train her. It’s not that busy. I could run the whole café by myself on Saturday if I needed to. You should go. Really, Gena. As your friend, I’m telling you, you need to get out of here for a few days. It will freshen up your perspective on life.”
“I don’t think this would be a good time to get away.”
“If you’re thinking you shouldn’t go because of the café, I’m sure I can handle things. You really should take advantage of the time since Steven is home. Did I hear that he’s flying out again Monday?”
Genevieve nodded.
“You should go,” Leah said firmly.
Genevieve hadn’t expected such a strong response from Leah. But Genevieve felt certain that if she tried to come up with a reason she shouldn’t go to the coast with Steven, Leah would come up with a stronger reason for her to go.
“Well,” Genevieve said thoughtfully, “maybe we could leave Saturday right after lunch.”
Leah shook her head. “Why? You should go Friday. When was the last time you and Steven had time together like this?”
Genevieve thought hard and couldn’t remember.
“Do you need some recommendations for places to stay?” Leah asked.
“I don’t think so. Steven said he would make all the arrangements.”
Leah flipped her short blond hair behind her ear. “Your husband is a honey.”
Genevieve thought her “honey’s” surprising her with the invitation to go away for the weekend sure blew a hole in her theory that he didn’t care about details or that if anything was going to get done, she was the one who would have to do it.
“I’ll think about it,” Genevieve said.
“Well, just in case you decide to go, what is the dessert of the day for Saturday?”
“It’s carrot cake.”
“Why don’t we make the cake now, just in case you go? It’s becoming one of the favorites around here. If Kenton knows that’s what we’re serving Saturday, he’ll be in here for sure.”
“I suppose we could do that.” Genevieve checked the cupboard to make sure they had enough cans of one of the main ingredients: strained baby food carrots. “I hope you never told Kenton the secret ingredient is baby food. Men have a hard time eating this cake after they find out I didn’t puree all the carrots by hand.”
Leah laughed. “Don’t worry. Your secret ingredient is safe with me.” She paused and added, “Any secret you want to share is safe with me.”
Genevieve felt a twinge of uncomfortableness. She didn’t know if Leah was hinting at something or merely being friendly. Genevieve wasn’t looking for anyone with whom she could share secrets or open up.
Leah plugged in the mixer and adjusted the mixing bowl. “Tell me again where you got this recipe. Wasn’t it from a friend in Pasadena?”
“Yes, Carolyn was a good friend. She was the woman who invited me to go to a women’s Bible study with her six years ago.”
“And that was the first time you had ever gone to church,” Leah added. “You told me before that at that Bible study you gave your life to Christ, right?”
“That’s right.” Genevieve didn’t add any other information and hoped that Leah would drop the subjec
t.
But Leah seemed to be on a particularly determined streak today. “You told me once that Steven has never gone to church with you. Has he ever shown any interest in spiritual matters?”
Now Genevieve felt as if her headstrong copartner was going too far. Leah couldn’t possibly understand how difficult this conversation was for her. “I’m sure Steven is just as interested in spiritual matters as the next person. He just doesn’t choose to go to church.”
“Well, I hope he’ll come sometime and hear our new pastor. You’ve met Gordon and his wife, Teri. They’ve been in here before. Remember? They’re the ones who are moving to Glenbrooke from Maui. Trust me, Gordo isn’t like any other pastor you’ve ever heard. I think you’ll like him a lot. Why don’t you guys come with us this Sunday and then have lunch at our house afterwards?”
“We might go to the coast this weekend, remember?”
“Oh, of course.”
Genevieve felt relieved that she had a legitimate reason for being gone Sunday.
“Maybe next weekend,” Leah said.
“Maybe.” Genevieve turned to the mixing bowl into which she had dumped the carrot cake ingredients.
Steven’s unresponsiveness over the years when Genevieve had asked him to go to church was such a deeply buried hurt that she felt irritated with Leah for bringing it up. It wasn’t as if Genevieve hadn’t faithfully prayed for her husband. She had for years. She had tried everything from bribing him with Sunday morning waffles and strawberries before the service to shaming him, saying he was a poor example to their daughters.
None of her tactics had changed anything. Steven never had gone to church with her. He hadn’t hindered or discouraged her or the girls, but he simply had chosen not to join them.
Genevieve watched the ingredients in the mixer as they smushed together. She felt as if her insides were doing the same thing.
Chapter Five
Friday afternoon, Genevieve left the café with plenty of apprehension about being gone all weekend. She reminded Leah four times that she would have her cell phone turned on and that Leah should call about any problem.
Genevieve then drove the girls to their friends’ homes where they were staying. When she returned home, she found Steven loading her suitcase into the small trunk of his Triumph.
“The newspaper said the weather should clear up tomorrow on the coast,” Steven said. “I thought we would take this car in case we want to do some touring with the top down.”
Genevieve nodded. She still wasn’t sure why she had agreed to do this. She didn’t think it was a direct result of Leah’s prompting but rather a mix of reasons. She figured Anna would feel more secure, knowing her parents were going off together for the weekend. And Genevieve hoped the time away would give her some fresh insights into the café. Spending time alone with Steven wasn’t at the top of her list.
They drove in the rain for the better part of an hour with the heater on high and their conversation on low. Steven’s car was much noisier than the van, so it wasn’t unusual for them to travel in comfortable silence.
Every now and then, Steven commented on the gorgeous Northwest scenery along the two-lane road they were taking to the coast. In the dripping twilight, the towering trees that lined the road did look, as Steven suggested, like friendly giants guarding the forest.
Somewhere between the enchanting cedars and the steady hum of the car’s motor, Genevieve told herself to relax and enjoy this weekend. For too long her life had been consumed with planning and doing and fretting. Her weary mind and fragile spirit needed a rest.
Steven turned off the highway and drove down a long, paved driveway. The windshield wipers swished at top speed, smearing the view of the resort’s entrance.
“Good evening,” a uniformed valet greeted Genevieve as he opened her door under the wide portico. “Welcome to the New Brighton Lodge. Will you be staying with us this evening?”
“Yes,” Genevieve answered, getting out of the car.
“The registration desk is through the lobby and to your left.”
Genevieve waited for Steven to tip the valet, and the two of them entered together. One of the perks of Steven’s job in the travel industry was the great discounts available for resorts, such as the New Brighton Lodge. The unfortunate truth was that they rarely took advantage of the options available to them.
“Would you like to wait by the fire while I check us in?” Steven asked.
Genevieve nodded and headed for the inviting fireplace on the right side of the lobby. She settled into a brown leather chair beside the warm fire and put up her feet on the raised hearth.
The motif of the New Brighton was definitely Northwest lodge. However, it was “lodge” décor in its most elegant form. The furniture in the lobby was oversized with an emphasis on polished wood and thick brown leather. A canoe hung from the ceiling, and a real pine tree grew out of the entryway’s center. Only on the wild coast of Oregon would such a lodge feel natural.
“You look like you found a good spot.” Steven joined Genevieve by the fire. He stood in front of the hearth, examining the mantle as if trying to figure out how it was attached. “This looks like cherry wood. Is that what you would guess?”
Genevieve had no idea. About the only types of wood she recognized were maple and oak. The tables she had ordered for the café were maple. She had set aside Leah’s idea of filling the café with random sizes, shapes, and colors of tables and had decided on sturdy, round, maple tables. Lauren at the antique store had loaned Genevieve a stack of furniture catalogs and helped her to place the order earlier that afternoon. The chairs concerned her a bit because they didn’t look as sturdy as the ones that came with the oak tables. But the price was right.
“What do you think, Gena? Cherry wood?”
“I guess. I’m not sure.” She realized she had already violated her decision to relax and not to worry about the café or anything else.
“I made dinner reservations for us at six-thirty. How does that sound?”
Genevieve checked her watch. It was already 6:20. “Is it a formal dining room?”
“I’m sure what you’re wearing is fine. As a matter of fact, I like that outfit on you. I was going to say something earlier. That’s a good color on you. Is it new?”
“No.” Genevieve glanced at her sweater. It was a pale lavender shade and was at least two years old. Was it possible Steven had never seen it on her? Or had he just not noticed or said anything when she wore it in the past?
“It’s fine with me if we go directly to dinner now.” Genevieve rose from her chair.
“Actually, why don’t you wait here?” Steven suggested. “I’ll make sure our luggage made it to our room and come right back.”
Genevieve settled into the chair once again and told herself to relax. She discretely slipped off her shoes and let the fire’s warmth penetrate her cold feet. Wiggling her toes, she stared into the flames. Slender branches of golden fire stretched from the fat logs, swaying in an unseen draft.
I wonder why Steven wanted to come here this weekend. This isn’t routine for him. Usually he only wants to go away for our anniversary weekend.
Genevieve remembered that the last time they had tried to get away was for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Steven had made all the plans for them to go to Hawaii for a week. They got into a huge argument on the way to the airport and had a miserable flight to Oahu. A terrible storm was dumping buckets of rain on the Hawaiian Islands when they arrived, and they spent the first two days in their hotel room barely speaking to each other. They called a truce by the end of the second day, and the rest of their anniversary week was cordial and uneventful.
Genevieve didn’t know what to expect this weekend. For a flitter of a moment, she wondered if Steven had some announcement to make to her and wanted to be away from home when he told her.
There I go, fretting again. Why can’t I be at peace about anything? Where is all this anxiety coming from?
S
teven appeared and offered her his hand. They walked quietly through the lobby to the dining room. Their table was next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the ocean. The sun already had gone down, and the rain splattering against the windows smeared their limited view of the outside world. It was cold sitting near the glass. Genevieve studied the menu while wiggling her toes in an effort to prolong the fire’s warming effects.
Dining out was something Genevieve enjoyed. She liked to evaluate the items listed on the menu and see how chefs used common ingredients with uncommon results.
The soup of the day caught her eye. It was lobster bisque. Both she and Steven started with a cup of soup, followed with a spinach salad garnished with pecans and mandarin orange slices. Their conversation was light, as it had been in the car on the forty-minute drive to the coast.
“I know you told me that Mallory is staying with the Johnsons,” Steven said. “But did I ask you where Anna ended up this weekend?”
He had asked in the car, but Genevieve’s answer must not have stuck with him. “Anna is at a sleepover with some girls from the church. They’re at Brad and Alissa’s house.”
Steven knew Brad and Alissa well because they both had been renters at the duplex next to Steven and Genevieve’s home in Pasadena.
“What is Anna doing tomorrow?” Steven asked.
“She’s going to stay at Brad and Alissa’s and help them get the room ready for the girls.”
“That’s right,” Steven said. “The time is getting pretty close for them, isn’t it? When do they go to Russia to pick up the girls?”
“It’s Romania, actually.” Genevieve pushed the rest of her soup aside. It wasn’t very warm, and the flavors had been a disappointment. She preferred to save room for the salad and the main course of cedar-grilled salmon with a glaze of brown sugar and cilantro. “The adoption of the two sisters was final a few weeks ago, but they’re waiting for all the paperwork from the government to come through.”
“How old will the girls be when they arrive?”
“Two and almost three. There’s only eleven months between them.”
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