She wanted to do so much. She had never been drawn to the outdoors, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try it. Maria wanted to learn, explore, and be shocked in wonder. Somewhere she had heard the phrase, “to suck the marrow from life.” Like a good Osso Buco, braised veal shanks over risotto. That’s what she wanted.
Then she reached an e-mail that brought her to a screeching halt.
The Terrible Trio requests the company of
Maria Amelia Avico Parrano.
Tonight, Cutter’s Crabhouse, 6 pm.
No sender’s name. Nothing about who the “Terrible Trio” might be. And not a hint of how they knew not only that it was her advertisement, but knew her full name as well.
She deleted it. All those responses, and not a one had made it into her “possibly acceptable” list. She closed her e-mail. And the instant she stood and looked about the quiet restaurant, awaiting the start of yet another lunch service, she knew exactly where she would be at six o’clock this evening.
Maria had vacillated and worried. Her plans to leave the restaurant early enough to go home and change were sabotaged by a lunch rush that used up too many dark-chocolate-dipped, cherry biscotti and she had to make more for dinner to go with her homemade hazelnut gelato.
She did consider going to Perrin’s Glorious Garb. Her boy had married Jo, a lovely lawyer of Alaskan heritage who had recently taken over as the manager of the Pike Place Market. One of her friends was an amazing clothier named Perrin Williams. Another of her friends had married dear Russell.
Cassidy Knowles also appeared to be the first woman other than herself who had made any success of controlling Russell’s restless energy. Maria had channeled Russell and Angelo’s energy by teaching them to cook. Cassidy and Jo apparently both applied a liberal dose of common sense, they kept the two men so in love with them that they never knew which way their heads were spinning.
She had left the newlyweds alone as much as possible. They were all young and didn’t need her hanging about them. She’d shopped at Perrin’s store a few times. While the clothes were so beautiful, they made the clothes the statement. Maria preferred to wear clothes that attracted attention, but let her be the statement.
So, she went through the Market on the way to Cutter’s, leaving herself enough time to browse the shops and stalls.
She found a Christmas scarf that completely suited her ideas of taste. It wasn’t candy canes and red-cheeked Santas. It was the color of holly and candle flames. As if it were made for La Festa di Santa Lucia. While that wasn’t for almost two weeks, Maria liked the way it brought out the red in her dark hair. It made her feel very festive, which is how a woman should feel around the holidays.
She’d planned on arriving early. That way she could be sipping a glass of wine when the self-proclaimed “Terrible Trio” arrived. She was betting with herself that it was Joseph, Clara, and William. They were always there right when she opened her window. And, she was pleased to note, they had the good sense to bring their ever-rotating line of dates to Angelo’s for a proper meal when they wanted to impress them. They were fun and pleasant, it would be a nice evening, that she’d be unlikely to repeat.
If it was someone else, well then, she’d just wait and see. She wasn’t above pretending her phone buzzed from the restaurant with a “dessert emergency.” She’d have to remember that one, it was a funny line.
Maria was actually a little late by the time she arrived, the scarf had been in one of the last places she’d looked. The invitation hadn’t said whether they were to meet in the bar or the restaurant.
The restaurant was down a long corridor, walking right through the servers prep station. It would have been strange if not for the spectacular view that lay in wait for the unsuspecting patron.
The bar sprawled to the left as she entered the door. It was filled with the young and the professionals. So much so that she almost felt out of place. Lawyers radiated power with their suits, but most others dressed to be seen. Even the scruffy, and several of the people had that upscale scruffy look that only comes with success in some software business or the like, were young and exceedingly healthy.
Well, Maria Amelia, you can turn tail and run, or you can fling your power scarf over your shoulder and sweep into the room as if you are the one who belongs.
She did the latter and swept in. It was pleasing to see several men turn to watch her passage toward the long wooden bar at the far end of the lounge, despite their dates’ glares. In front of the bar stood a line of stools, mostly occupied, but with none of the dedicated drinkers typical in most bars. No, people came here to see and be seen, not to be life-long patrons.
Opposite the bar was a long wall of glass looking south along the Seattle waterfront. Six o’clock was well past dark on a December night and the city glowed. Pike Place Market was a blare of light to the left.
The view sort of tumbled down the high cliff of Western and into the water past the brightly lit piers of restaurants, tourist shops, and the ferry terminal. Beyond the big new Ferris wheel the view went dark, the expanse of Elliot Bay only lit by the occasional ferry across the water looking like a birthday cake bearing far too many candles. The mountain backdrop had disappeared with the darkness, just the faintest orange outline showing the towering snowy mountains.
The view fit Cutter’s Bar, filled it with the vibrancy of what was actually quite a quaint city. They were so proud of the industry and busy doings, the largest city in the Northwest, the portal to Alaska, the bicycling capital of the U. S… Their lists went on and on. She had lived thirty years in New York, the city that never slept. Most of Seattle would be closed by eight o’clock. It was young and terribly pleased with itself, like so many of the patrons she could see in the bar.
“Maria, over here.”
She turned, and stumbled to a halt. All of her self-contained bravado slipping off her shoulders like a lost shawl at the surprise. She didn’t know if she was ready to face this trio.
At one of the small round window tables, tall with equally high stools that put them on display, sat three beautiful young women.
Cassidy Knowles in her trademark black turtleneck, designer slacks, and leather, calf-length boots. To either side, Jo Thompson ever so formal in her charcoal lawyer powersuit, and Perrin in, well, full-on Perrin was probably the only way to describe her.
The woman’s shoulder-length hair was white. Not white-blond, but white. Her dress and leggings beneath were black and form-fitting, even black gloves revealing only her fingertips with unpainted nails. It was as if only her hair and face existed and the rest of her was invisible.
It should have looked alien, as if she’d fallen out of a science -fiction movie, or perhaps Goth. Instead, Maria could see, it was making even the male waiters stumble as they passed by. She was far and away the most stunning woman in the room tonight.
Maria sidled up to the table. She actually always felt daunted by her daughter-in-law and her two friends. They were a family and she wasn’t. They traced their lineage all the way back to their first day at college. Maria had never graduated from upper secondary, leaving at seventeen, a year early due to her pregnancy. They were so terribly accomplished; all Maria had ever done was give birth to a son and cook.
“You’re the Terrible Trio?” In a way they were. They quite unnerved her.
“Guilty,” Perrin declared brightly.
“And proud to be,” Russell’s wife offered.
“No,” Angelo’s Jo stopped them all with her calm composure and simple declarative.
“No?” the others asked.
“There are four of us now.”
“The Fab Four?” Cassidy offered.
“I’ve got it,” Perrin raised her glass in a black-gloved hand for a toast.
There was a brief delay while they found a drink for Maria to toast with. She took the moment to climb onto the stool that placed them nearly elbow to elbow around the table, though it left her feeling as if she were teetering.
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“We are hereby the Fearsome Foursome.”
“Hear. Hear.” The others raised their glasses, so Maria followed suit.
Perrin knocked back the rest of her Cosmopolitan.
Jo and Cassidy sipped their wine.
Maria knocked back the sip of Perrin’s Cosmo that had been poured into an empty water glass for her.
She and Perrin slammed their glasses back down on the table and said in unison, “Hear. Hear.”
And just that fast, they welcomed Maria into their inner circle. Suddenly she was very glad she’d come.
“But how did you know it was me?” Maria sipped at her wine. Cassidy had picked a local white that perfectly complemented the Oven Roasted Dungeness and Rock Crab Dip. The dish was good, not subtle, but good. The wine pairing definitely elevated it.
“Only someone as dense as my Angelo could miss that,” Jo shook her head sadly. Her long, straight black hair swirled across her shoulders: the only indicator of her Alaskan heritage other than her perfect dusky skin. That she was such a beauty and had just been ranked as one of Seattle’s most influential women only made Maria wonder how her son, who she loved dearly, had been good enough. “Go Angelo,” was all she could think.
“Russell is dense enough. He’s even worse than Angelo,” Cassidy offered with a thoroughly contented sigh.
“Yes, or Russell,” Jo conceded. “Only two such men wouldn’t know it was you, Maria. The instant Angelo showed me the newspaper, I knew…and I felt awful.”
“Why awful?”
“You were so kind to me when Angelo and I were stumbling our way toward each other, then… I shall be kind to myself by just saying, then I dropped you.”
Maria reached out and held Jo’s hand. “You, my dear girl, are in a terribly demanding new job and you were newly in love and now married. The last thing you need to be worrying about is a foolish old mother-in-law.”
Jo’s strong hand squeezed back.
“The next time you say that you’re old, you’ll be wearing a Cosmo,” Perrin raised her glass in threat.
“But I am.”
“Before you came, we all agreed, you are the woman we want to grow up to be. We’ve also decided that you are our style guru. If you weren’t so totally scary, we’d have thought to do this much sooner.”
“Scary? Me?” There was an adjective she’d never have picked in a thousand years.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You cook like a dream.”
“You dress in a way that just ticks me off.” Perrin declared with a shake of her white-white hair. “You always look so effortless. Me, I’m…constructed.” She waved to indicate her styling and clothes.
“But that is you, my dear,” Maria protested. “You are so breathtaking that I fully expect half the men in the room to need neck braces before the night is over.”
“Really?” Perrin appeared surprised. As if she didn’t know or trust her own startling beauty. She glanced over Maria’s shoulder cautiously.
“They will all have sore necks from turning so often to admire you. And many will be wearing their date’s drinks before the night is over for staring so often. That I can guarantee.” That one of these women could be less than confident shocked her to the very core.
“You know what makes you really scary?” Cassidy’s soft voice stopped the back and forth flow of conversation around the table.
Maria shook her head. Realized she was crumpling her napkin in her lap with her nerves and forced herself to stop even if she couldn’t relax.
It was Jo who answered. “How in the world did you raise Russell and Angelo without having to murder at least one of them? That is the true miracle.”
“Oh, that was easy,” she laughed at their aghast expressions. “Best way to a young boy’s head is through his stomach. And when they started noticing girls, I started feeding the girls as well. The boys never thought twice about bringing them to my kitchen. Then Mama Maria would quietly scoot the worst ones right back out the door without the boys even noticing.”
“Scary smart,” Jo confirmed.
“Totally,” Cassidy freshened their wine glasses.
“Wish you’d been my mother,” Perrin’s voice was soft, barely loud enough for Maria to hear. The look on her face wasn’t silly or joking as it had been until this moment. It was very real and remarkably sad.
Maria felt herself melt. Without even thinking, she took Perrin’s hand, pulled her into a leaning hug, and kissed her atop her shining hair. They sat back up, but Perrin stared down at the white tablecloth.
Maria knew that lack of a mother had been one of the common bonds between these three friends. Cassidy’s had died young, Jo’s had abandoned her family while Jo was still a toddler, and Perrin’s mother had been viciously cruel and abusive and did not deserve the title. Maria had to wipe her eyes at the pain she saw on Perrin’s features.
“I could wish that too, dear,” she whispered to Perrin. “You are a wonderful woman and anyone who didn’t see that… Well, they didn’t deserve you.”
Perrin looked up at her, staring until she could see that Maria meant it, tears began trickling down her cheeks and Maria wiped them away fighting against her own.
“Hey,” Cassidy protested. “What did we just miss? No crying at this table unless we all do. That’s the rule.”
Maria kept Perrin’s hand in her own as she faced the others. She looked at each of these amazing women.
“I loved raising the boys. But I always dreamed of daughters. I just never dreamed of daughters like you three.”
“Oh man.” Cassidy groaned.
Jo blinked hard then actually sniffled in a terribly un-Jo-like fashion. “Okay, that did it. You are hereafter stuck with us forever.”
Perrin looked away, studying the table in silence. But she didn’t release her tight hold on Maria’s hand.
It had taken a fresh round of appetizers and drinks to clear the mood of the table.
Taylor Shellfish Farms Steamed Manila Clams saw them through several “Russell and Angelo as young boys” stories. A fresh basket of Cutter’s trademark focaccia, practically dripping with olive oil and garlic, covered the latest updates on Perrin’s love life. She was desperately in and out of love at least once a month. Her heart apparently only had two modes, full-on and full-off.
Maria privately concluded that her own heart had perhaps been set to full-off without her realizing it. Perhaps it was time to change that as well.
When Cassidy ordered another bottle of wine, this time a magnificent Willamette Valley Pinot Blanc, Maria began to worry about quite how much everyone was drinking, including herself.
“Oh no, not to worry,” Perrin signaled the waiter for a fresh Cosmo. “It’s another rule of the Terrible Trio.”
“Fearsome Foursome,” Cassidy corrected her absently as she inspected the new wine as only one of the nation’s leading food-and-wine critics could.
“Fabulous Fivesome if one of you married types would please, please, please go ahead and get pregnant so I could be an auntie.” Perrin was on a roll. And when she was, there was clearly no stopping her.
Jo and Cassidy both blanched white at the thought and raised their hands in surrender.
“The rule is, we’re not allowed to get drunk unless we’re all together. Ever since college we’ve had that rule.”
“And we’ve paid for it,” Jo’s tone was drily funny, suggesting wild escapades.
Maria would guess that those wild times were Perrin’s doing. As a matter of fact, she would bet on it. And something about Jo’s eyes and a shared glance with Cassidy. Yes, they had made the rule to protect Perrin from herself.
Perrin must not know that about her friends, for she took a totally different reading from Jo’s sidelong glance and poked a finger in Cassidy’s arm.
“Of course one of us, and I am pointing fingers…” As a matter of fact she was forcing Cassidy to lean sideways towards Jo to escape the pressure. “…broke that rule and got ho
rribly smashed in private.”
“Those were special circumstances, Perrin.” Jo spoke in Cassidy’s defense even as she batted away Perrin’s hand and helped Cassidy back upright.
“Yeah,” Perrin’s gaze returned to Maria. She leaned in confidentially and rested her chin on her fist, even though her elbow was nowhere near the table; as if she was so ethereal that she could rest in mid-air.
“Such special circumstances that Russell had to break down the door with his shoulder.” Perrin winked and rolled her eyes back toward Cassidy before reaching once more for her drink.
Cassidy and Jo might think they had Perrin bamboozled, but Maria wondered if it might not be the other way around. Perrin knew exactly why the “only get drunk together” rule existed, even if she cooperated with it for the sake of self-preservation, but she wasn’t above getting vengeance on Cassidy for underestimating her.
Well, as two could play at that game, she winked back at Perrin before turning to Cassidy.
“So,” Maria took a careful sip of her wine and reached for another piece of focaccia. “After Russell broke down the door and you were drunk all by yourself, did he get you naked?”
Perrin almost snorted her Cosmo.
Chapter 5
Maria decided she was awake, what she couldn’t decide was if it was safe to be. She eyed the alarm clock accusingly, but it hadn’t gone off. Not for three more minutes.
She turned it off and sat up tentatively but with only a little twinge. Perhaps, as Cassidy claimed, hangovers were lessened by good vintages and exceptional friends. For whatever reason, other than a small headache that a few aspirin would easily cure, she felt surprisingly good. In some ways she felt better than she had in a long time.
They been such…fun! Russell’s mother, Julia Morgan, despite how close they’d been, had been her employer. Julia was the billionaire’s wife, Maria was her personal chef. She’d had woman friends, but they had appeared and drifted away just as readily. Maria’s entire life had been the Morgan family and raising the boys.
The Complete Where Dreams Page 55