by Lisa Scott
Lucy pulled away as Alexa charged inside. “Let’s eat!”.”
“I’ll bring out the food,” Mike said, and they joined Alexa on the deck.
After they’d eaten, Lucy asked, “Want to fly kites on the beach today?”
“Me and you?” Alexa asked.
“And Daddy, too.”
Alexa grinned, syrup dribbling down her chin. “Yes!” She reached for Lucy with one hand and took Mike’s hand with the other.
Lucy squeezed the little fingers that curled around hers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tate loading his car. She focused on Alexa’s sweet little face. “It’s going to be great.”
*
Tate had packed in two hours. He hadn’t brought that much to begin with. He loaded his car and walked around the outside of the house to be sure he hadn’t left anything. He spotted something on the ground under the front stairs. Squatting to grab it, he laughed softly. It was a bruised, shriveled apple. He picked it up, examining the wrinkled skin and brown spots. He went to the edge of the beach and hurled the fruit into the sea.
Walking back, he glanced at Lucy’s deck and saw the three of them enjoying breakfast. The breeze picked up bits of their laughter. He stepped onto his deck and spotted Lucy’s red beach cover hanging over the railing. He crushed it to his face. The smell of her left his eyes stinging.
Tate set the dress down. It was time to leave.
The pain of his loss and the satisfaction of making the right decision swirled inside him, like unexpected ingredients that somehow worked well together once the dish had been baked. Like magic meatloaf. He’d done the right thing, and his heart was full.
He was ready to go home and start cooking.
*
Two weeks later, his agent called. “The publisher loves it. Fall in Love Again With Cooking. Genius! Didn’t I say you’d find inspiration up there?”
Tate glanced at the window of his apartment, watching the rain snaking down. “I found exactly what I needed.”
He’d found love. A love that he’d felt strong enough to let go. A love he could only express through his cooking. At least he knew where the bar was set in his heart if he was lucky enough to ever find it again.
And hopefully, a little girl’s heart could now start healing.
Return to start
About Lisa Scott
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Tate has second thoughts
While Tate cooked, he had a clear view of the beach. Lucy was wearing her black bikini, and her ex couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
Can’t blame him, Tate thought, clamping down on a lobster claw with the crackers and crushing the shell.
Mike picked up Alexa and plopped her on his shoulders. Lucy reached up and tickled her.
Tate swallowed back a bad feeling. If he ever lost a woman like Lucy, he’d do whatever he could to get her back, too. Tate sincerely doubted Mike was here to build sandcastles. He wanted to rebuild his relationship with Lucy.
Tate dropped the lobster onto the counter. He didn’t want to lose her. How had he let this happen? He had work to do - career-saving work. Just two weeks with a gorgeous, down-to-earth, funny woman and he was in love?
He tossed the lobster claw aside. He should be rooting for Mike to win her back. It would be easier for Tate, and probably the best thing for Alexa. But Tate couldn’t deny his feelings for Lucy. He had no intention of ending things when the summer was over. He wanted this woman in his life.
But was that just wishful thinking? Could they even make a relationship work? They led very different lives in different cities. Tate poured himself a drink.
*
Lucy sank into her beach chair and watched Alexa try to catch a seagull.
“Birdie, wait! Come here!” Annoyed seagulls took to the air and landed a few yards away from their hunter. Alexa planted her hands on her hips and ran after them again.
Lucy laughed. “No wonder she conks out every night.”
“She loves it here.” Mike sat next to her. “Why didn’t we ever go on vacation to the beach?”
“I don’t know.”
He reached over and set his hand on hers. “There are a lot of things we should’ve done together. A lot of things I should’ve done differently.” He squeezed her hand, rubbing his thumb across her palm. A few grains of sand were between their hands, rolling back and forth like the tiniest of pebbles.
Lucy stiffened and pulled away, folding her hands in her lap. “We gave it our best shot. It didn’t work out. We weren’t in love when we got married.”
“I was hoping that we’d fall in love one day,” Mike said.
“But we didn’t. We aren’t good together, Mike. You never wanted to come home. Maybe I didn’t give you good reason to come home, or maybe you were busy looking for the life you didn’t get to live.”
He stared at the ocean and sighed. “When I should have been appreciating what I had: you and Alexa. I know that now.”
“It won’t work between us, Mike.”
He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Because of that guy? Tate?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She dropped her head back against the chair and groaned. “I just know Alexa will get the best from both of us if we’re not together.”
“I’ll try harder.” His eyes were wide and his voice was quiet. Mike rarely dropped his bravado, but when he did, Lucy’s heart usually softened.
But she couldn’t do that. Not now. “What can we do differently?” she asked. “We went to marriage counseling. It didn’t work. Of course we’re getting along here - it’s the beach, where there are no responsibilities. I’m glad we can be civil and friendly in front of her, but that’s all we’re going to be.”
Mike grabbed a small shell from the sand and tossed it in the ocean.
Lucy set her hand on his arm. “It’s going to be fine, for both of us.”
“So, are you with that guy - Tate?” Mike asked, squinting into the sun.
Lucy held her breath before she said anything. She didn’t know the answer to that question.
“I do like him.” She felt more for him than that, though. She could be herself around Tate. Things that bothered Mike - her crafts, her chaos - seemed to enchant Tate. She hadn’t fussed with her hair or makeup since that first night she’d made him magic meatloaf.
Mike had never even made it home for a magic meatloaf night.
Knowing Tate was next door had her falling asleep with a smile each night and waking up excited about the day. No man had ever made her feel this way. Even if she couldn’t have Tate, this was what she wanted from someone else. She knew this magical feeling wasn’t possible with Mike.
“I’m interested in seeing where things go with him. If you and I got back together, we’d just break up again. Maybe it would take a few months or a few years, but we would. And that’s not fair to Alexa. Or to us. We both deserve to find happiness.”
Mike closed his eyes and nodded. He must’ve accepted her closure. “I think I should leave tonight.”
Lucy didn’t argue.
“Mind if I take Alexa out for dinner before I go?”
“That’
s fine. I’m going to head back to the house now. I’ve got a few things to do.”
“No problem.”
She stood up and squeezed his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll find the right person, and so will I. And Alexa will always have two parents who love her.”
Mike reached for her hand and squeezed it. “If you ever change your mind … “
“I won’t. I’m sorry.” Lucy walked up the path back to the house, wondering what Tate’s reaction would be to her news. She had to tell him that she wanted more than just a fling.
Lucy found Tate sitting on his deck with a drink.
“Does that help the recipes marinate in your mind?” she asked.
Laughing, he looked down and swirled his whiskey. “I don’t usually drink when I cook, but I needed to today.”
“I’m sure it must be confusing to have my ex here.”
“I don’t know if confusing’s the right word. Maddening? Worrying?” He looked at her and his soft gray eyes did look concerned.
Lucy sat next to him and reached for his glass. “Mind if I have a sip? I sure could use a drink to take the edge off.”
“I’ll get you one,” he said, rising.
“No, stay. We need to talk.” She took a swig of his drink while he sat back down.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“It’s good news, at least I hope you think what I have to tell you is good news.” She curled her hand around his. “Mike wants to get back together … “
“I figured as much. I can’t blame him.”
“Well, It doesn’t matter if he wants to try again-I don’t. Realizing that forced me to admit to myself how much I like you, and to think about where things might be headed for us.”
He closed his eyes and she stiffened. Didn’t he want to hear those words? Had she misinterpreted his actions?
“I’m sorry. Is that not what you want?”
He shook his head and smiled sadly. “It’s exactly what I was hoping for, but I also know things would be a lot easier if you did go back to Mike. I’ve been trying to figure out how we could make this thing work between us; we live in different cities, and when I’m filming the show, my life is insane. I couldn’t be there for you, and that was your biggest complaint about Mike. I don’t want you to go through that again.”
Lucy looked down so Tate couldn’t see the pain on her face. “You’d find a way. You’re different from him.”
“I hate to admit it, but I think what we have will disappear when we leave this place and return to our real lives, Lucy. This time with you has been amazing, but I just don’t see how a real relationship is meant to be.”
She nodded and rose. Standing there, she fought to find the right words to argue. He was wrong, but he wasn’t. Summer would end, and so would this thing between them.
“Thanks for being honest with me,” she struggled to say.
She walked back to her house and he didn’t come after her.
*
Tate went inside and poured himself another drink. He usually wasn’t one to drown his problems with alcohol - especially when they were problems that weren’t going to go away. But he was nowhere with his cookbook, and he’d just sent away the woman who’d made him happier than he’d ever been.
The way things were unraveling made it seem like he was using the wrong ingredients to mix up a recipe. Nothing in his life was working out right now.
He’d never set out to get his own TV show. He’d been working in a restaurant when the right people showed up at the right time with an amazing offer. Sure, it had been fun for a while, but all he’d ever wanted was to make people happy with his food. Why was he so unhappy himself?
He set down his drink and looked out the kitchen window. Lucy was sitting on the deck, staring out at the ocean. Mike’s truck was gone. Why couldn’t he just go over there and tell her they’d find a way to make this work, that he’d do whatever he had to do?
But would he? He looked at the lobster still sitting on the counter, unlikely to ever find its way into a beach roll. He winced, thinking of Alexa’s sweet face, and how he’d probably never get to make dinner for her again. That was one of the things that had brought him so much happiness over the past few weeks - making dinner to delight the people he cared about. Suddenly the light bulb clicked on and the whistles blew and the fireworks exploded in his mind. He laughed at the simplicity of it. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. He knew exactly how he could make this work.
He hoped Lucy could forgive him for not fighting harder at first, but right now he had to make a call to his agent. She wouldn’t be happy.
*
An hour later, Tate grabbed a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and held it behind his back as he walked over to Lucy’s. She looked up from her deck chair. The sadness in her eyes almost knocked him over.
“I’m a fool,” he said, walking up the stairs.
“No, you made some good points. It wouldn’t work.”
“It will if we try.”
“But like you said, your career is your life.”
“Not anymore.”
“What?”
“When I thought about losing you, I realized how unhappy I’ve been - until I came here and met you. So, I’m staying.” He grinned and set the champagne on the table.
Lucy sat up straight. “I don’t understand.”
“I called my agent today. I’ve got an extension to finish the cookbook, and I’m quitting the TV show. I’m not going back.”
She blinked a few times. “What are you going to do?”
“She’s letting me use her place until I get my own. I’m going to find a position up here as a chef. I want to work in a restaurant again; I’ve been told I make a mean beach roll. I think someone would take me on. I’m just hoping you two would be interested in staying here, too.”
Lucy rushed to him. “I don’t think it’ll be too hard to convince my little mermaid, and I’m sure my friend will let me stay here as long as I want.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I hope one day I can buy us our own place on the ocean.”
“I don’t need that. I just need you.”
He ran his fingers down her cheek. “I promise to do everything I can to make the days as happy as they’ve been these past few weeks.”
“And I promise not to subject you to magic meatloaf anymore.”
“Are you kidding? It’s my new favorite dish! In fact, maybe I’ll serve it at the restaurant.”
“You wouldn’t!”
Tate paused and kissed her forehead. “I might if I bought my own restaurant.”
“You want to open your own place?”
“You’ll have to stick around to see how everything turns out.” Tate smiled.
“Kind of like magic meatloaf - it’s always a surprise.”
“Exactly,” he said, holding her tight and smiling up at the stars.
Return to start
About Lisa Scott
Please turn back to the previous page and use the links to advance to the next section of this story.
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Please turn forward one page and use the links to advance to the next section of this story.
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You can also read this story at https://www.silkwords.com/stories/love_and_leftovers in your web browser.
Tate panics and makes a call
While the lobsters boiled, Tate made a call, his fingers shaking
as he dialed the number. “Rebecca? It’s Tate.”
She groaned. “Did the toilet back up? Shoot. That happened a few times last summer. I can give you the number for our plumber.”
“No. Everything’s fine with the house. The house is great.”
“Oh, you sound panicked. I just assumed something had flooded or burned.”
“No, nothing like that, but I do need your help. Things aren’t going as planned.”
“With the book?”
That too, he thought. “Yes, with the cookbook. Can you come up for a few days and help me work things out?”
“Of course. You sound frantic, and I’ll be able to get out of three boring meetings. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Tate kept sneaking glances out his window. Mike was gathering things for the beach while Lucy stood on the deck in her bikini. Her arms were crossed as Mike talked to her. She didn’t look happy. Tate thought about calling out to her, asking for help with dinner, but she grabbed a towel off the back of a chair and followed Mike and Alexa down to the beach.
Too bad Rebecca can’t get here tonight, he thought. Tomorrow might be too late. Mike was a man on a mission who’d be sharing his dinner table soon.
*
“Did you know Tate is famous?” Alexa asked her dad as they ate their beach rolls on Tate’s deck.
“Famous for what?” Mike asked.
“He has a cooking show on TV,” Lucy explained.
Tate rubbed his leg against hers under the table just so he could feel her skin against his. He was suffering serious Lucy withdrawal.
“I guess I’m pretty lucky then, eating food from a famous chef. It’s good, thank you.” Mike smiled at Tate, but there was a hardness in his eyes. He was a good-looking guy, probably Lucy’s age - twenty-six. Still young enough to think his youth alone meant he’d best someone like Tate in a fight, and stupid enough to think such a show of bravado would matter to a woman like Lucy. intimidate another guy.
“I’m up here working on a cookbook. In fact, my agent is joining me tomorrow to help me go over things.”
“Oh?” Lucy sounded surprised, and not in a good way.
Mike’s smile morphed into a smirk.
“You should all join us for lunch tomorrow. I’m making stuffed grouper.”