Charming for Mother's Day (A Calendar Girls Novella)

by Gina Ardito

  Charming for Mother’s Day

  (A Calendar Girls Novella)

  by

  Gina Ardito

  The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2013 by Victoria Ardito

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, whether by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission of the publisher.

  Author Acknowledgement

  Special thanks to Ariana Faria and her mom for their insight into the character of Ariana Soto. Love is always a risk worth taking. Seize your chance and be happy!

  Chapter 1

  Lucinda

  O.C.I.F.: Oh, Crap. It’s Friday.

  While most people look forward to the weekend, to winding down and spending time with family, I’m not one of them. I’m on the other side of that fence. Since I’m the maître d’ in one of my town’s five-star restaurants, Friday always ushered in the craziest part of my hectic weekly routine.

  After a full day of college classes and an hour-long ride, I stepped off the bus at the corner of Main Street and First Avenue. March’s icy wind bit my cheeks. The third month of the year in Snug Harbor is a mixture of extremes: raw and frosty today, mild and humid tomorrow.

  With a puff of smelly black exhaust, the bus chugged away to its next destination. Burrowing into the fake fur collar of my parka, I trudged the three blocks to work. Gray skies, clumps of blackened snow left over from the last storm, and the still-closed seasonal businesses all deepened my blah mood. By the time my boots crunched over the gravel path that led to the Gull and Oar’s front entrance, I couldn’t feel my face anymore. I pulled open the heavy wood and lead-glass door and stepped into the empty dining room. The welcome heat of the roaring fireplace greeted me.

  My daughter’s sudden outburst of giggles from the rear of the restaurant warmed me straight through to my heart. The kitchen, of course. She and my boss/father-in-law, Sidney, spent a lot of time in the restaurant’s kitchen.

  “Hello?” I called out as I unzipped my jacket and grabbed a hanger from the cloak room.

  “Mommeeeee!” Ariana burst through the rear door and sped toward me, arms spread wide. Today, her chestnut hair was tucked under a yellow chef’s hat with images of Lumiere from Beauty and the Beast dancing across the puffed top.

  “Hey, doodle,” I greeted her with a tight squeeze and a kiss to her forehead. “How was school today?”

  Snug Harbor Elementary sat directly across the street from the Gull and Oar, so on my worknights, Ariana came straight here after school and hung out with her grandfather until I got out of my last class and met her here.

  “Good.” Grabbing my hand, she yanked with enthusiasm. “Come in the kitchen. Grandpa has a surprise.”

  A surprise? Doubt buzzed in my mind. Still, I allowed her to pull me toward the hive. As we approached, I heard voices, low but obviously male. One was definitely Sidney’s, with his distinctive whinny-style laugh piercing the air. The second voice, mellow and smoky, raised the fine hairs on my arms.

  From the doorway, I noted my father-in-law seated on a stool at the stainless steel wait station, facing me. His companion stood beside him, his back to me. The stranger was tall—at least six feet—with broad shoulders squared off in a black tee, tapering to a narrow waist packed into faded black jeans. His light brown hair, buzzed short on top, skimmed his nape in the back.

  “Lucie!” Sidney waved me inside. “Come meet Chef Colin.”

  Chef Colin? I stiffened. It couldn’t be. And yet, my daughter’s eagerness confirmed what I dreaded.

  “Colin, this is the best maître d’ in the business. My daughter-in-law, Lucie Soto.”

  He turned toward me then, an easy smile on his face. Recognition never clicked. Of course not. Why would it?

  “Chef Colin.” I managed to sound cool and confident, in direct contrast to the turmoil roiling my belly. I could do this. I could show him I wasn’t the same naive young woman he’d dumped ten years ago. Holding out my hand, I added, “Nice to see you again.”

  “Wait.” Colin held up his left hand. “Again?”

  No ring on his third finger. I don’t know why I noticed, and the idea I wasted a second’s time caring about his possible marital status irked.

  “You two know each other?” Sidney asked, swerving his attention from me to Colin and back again.

  “We knew some of the same people a long time ago,” I replied, emotionless. If he didn’t remember, I wasn’t about to humiliate myself by letting him think our brief interlude meant anything to me. “We’d run into each other at social events from time to time. I’m sure he doesn’t remember.”

  But I did. So much of who I was today was tied up in that summer ten years ago. I couldn’t help but remember every sparkle in his eye, every time he smiled at me, and every time he’d kissed me.

  “How come you didn’t tell me you knew him when we used to watch the show?” Ariana demanded, hands on her hips.

  Because I didn’t think he’d ever stroll back into Snug Harbor. But I couldn’t admit that, didn’t want to have to go into deeper explanations about the past. Coward that I am, I avoided my daughter’s scrutiny. “Congratulations on your win,” I said to him instead.

  Colin Murriere had appeared on the cooking reality show, “All Star Chef,” eventually taking the coveted title after a nerve-wracking finale showdown broadcast to a live television audience. Naturally. Because everything in life came easily to Colin. His family owned one of the top of the line vacation condo complexes in Snug Harbor. Born with a diamond-encrusted spoon in his mouth, he’d never worked hard to achieve anything. Unlike me—the daughter of a single mom who barely scraped by on wages as a maid at that same complex.

  “Ariana’s your daughter?” he asked.

  Panic whitened his complexion. I could almost see the calendar pages flipping in his head while he struggled to figure out exactly how well we knew each other in his rum-soaked days.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Although I enjoyed the momentary alarm his suspicions roused in his conscience—and his accompanying guilt—I wouldn’t use my daughter as an instrument of revenge. “Her father was Sidney’s son, Rob.” In the old days, Rob had been my best friend, but I lost him years ago—first to a fondness for alcohol and anger, and then, more permanently and inevitably, to a drunk driving accident.

  Relieved color returned to Chef Colin’s cheeks, and he murmured a solemn, “My sympathies to you both.”

  Sidney and I, numb after years of accepting condolences, nodded our thanks.

  “I’ll tell you this, though,” Sidney said, his wrinkled face beaming with pride, “Ari may only be eight, but she’s already on her way to becoming a future All Star Chef.”

  Chef Colin turned to my daughter. “Is that right?”

  “Absolutely,” Sidney exclaimed, his hand tousling her dark hair. “In fact, she’s the best apprentice sous chef I ever had.”

  Ariana stared up at Colin, her honey eyes filled with girlish adoration, as if she’d found her personal Prince Charming. “I rooted for you on the show, Chef Colin.”

  She and I had watched “All Star Chef” every Tuesday night, with Ariana critiquing the different contestants’ skills and reporting her conclusions to Sidney every Wednesday.

  “You did? Thank you. I appreciate the votes of confidence.”

  Oh, puhleez. I had to turn away so he wouldn’t see me roll my eyes, and only faced the crowd again when
I had my placid expression under control.

  He lifted his gaze from Ariana to me. “That must be why I won. I had two very pretty ladies secretly cheering me on.”

  I winced, knowing what would come next. Sure enough, Ariana speared me with an icicle look. “Mom didn’t root for you. She wanted Chef Christian to win.”

  His hazel eyes, familiar in my dreams, crinkled with amusement as Colin joined my daughter in the staring contest. Target: me. “Did she?”

  My cheeks flamed, but I pulled off a dandy imitation of a casual shrug. “Guilty.”

  “Mind if I ask why?” he persisted.

  Damn him, he should know why. But of course, he didn’t. Why would he? I was just a summer fling—a fact he drove home when he dumped me after a few weeks, going so far as to give me an invalid email and the wrong phone number.

  “She said you were too snotty to win.” Once again, my daughter pushed me under the proverbial bus.

  To my surprise, though, he laughed. “She’s probably right. It’s certainly nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  I didn’t react. On the outside. On the inside, my heartbeat hammered my ribs, and my throat dried to sawdust.

  After several squirm-worthy seconds, he refocused his attention on Ariana. “So, if your mom thought I was such terrible person, why did you want me to win?”

  “I thought you had great knife skills,” she replied with more conviction than a prosecuting attorney. “Even better than Grandpa.”

  “Watch it, snickerdoodle,” Sidney growled then grabbed her by the waist.

  She screeched, and he pulled her against his side for a series of noisy kisses to her cheek.

  Through a riptide of giggles, she amended, “Well, he’s pretty good, based on what I saw on the show. Maybe you guys can have a contest before you move to Florida.”

  My rigid stance relaxed. Oh, thank God. In the back of my mind, I’d wondered why Colin had suddenly appeared at the Gull and Oar. But he must have just stopped by as a courtesy to Sidney before heading south. In that case, I could be gracious to him. Temporarily.

  “Florida, huh?” I said to Colin. “Are you opening a new place down there? Whereabouts?” Not that I ever planned to visit, but—

  “No, Lucie,” Sidney said. “I’m going to Florida. Chef Colin’s bought the Gull and Oar.”

  ~~~~

  I couldn’t grasp the concept. I stared at Sidney, my mouth moving, but no words coming out. At last, I managed to force a few syllables past my thickening throat. “Sidney?”

  “I’m retiring, Lucie,” he said, his tone gentle, as if he knew how fragile the news had made me. “It’s time. I’ll be in and out of here sporadically as Colin gets things set up in his own style, but by the end of the month, I’ll be gone for good.”

  Deep down, I understood. Really, I did. And I didn’t blame Sidney for wanting out. Snug Harbor’s oldest and most popular seafood restaurant turned a great profit. But all that success required a lot of man hours, and at sixty-eight, its owner was ready to retire to his condo in Florida and become a snowbird. Still, I couldn’t help wondering: where did that leave me? And Ariana?

  Sidney Soto, executive chef and soon-to-be-ex-owner of the Gull and Oar, was a doting grandpa to my baby girl and a second father to me. He’d been my hero on the worst night of my life. He was patient and fun with Ariana. From the time she was able to curl her fingers around objects, he taught her kitchen tricks. From mixing ingredients with a spoon, to peeling garlic cloves by shaking them in a covered container, to decorating the specials blackboard. He had even set up a small cot in his office where Ariana could sleep on those late nights when my mom couldn’t watch her and she had to stay in the restaurant ‘til closing.

  Say goodbye to all those perks. I might as well say goodbye to my job. Call it past experience, but somehow, I doubted Chef Colin would be as generous toward my needs as Chef Grandpa Sidney.

  As much as I understood Sidney’s longing to leave, I dreaded the consequences. Still, he clearly sensed my concerns. One comforting hand landed on my shoulder, and he leveled a steady gaze at me. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Lucie. Colin has agreed to retain my current staff as part of his acquisition.”

  I would rather eat live slugs than work with Colin, but I swallowed my resentment and forced a smile. “Well, great. That’s…great.” Gee, could I sound less enthused?

  “For six months or so,” Colin added. “Just to make sure personalities mesh and the staff can meet my standards. After that…” He shrugged, hands splayed in surrender.

  Yeah. I got it. In a nutshell, we all had six months to find other employment. Six months. At least with spring around the corner, most of the area restaurants would be looking for seasonal help soon. If I got lucky, I’d be able to get my degree before my job ended at the Gull and Oar, propelling me out of the restaurant business altogether. Provided, of course, I could find a job in my chosen field that would allow some flexibility to care for Ariana. With her dad gone, I was her only support system and one constant in life. And now I wouldn’t have Sidney to fall back on.

  “Hey.”

  I looked up as Maxie, one of the restaurant’s bartenders strolled in. She wore the traditional white shirt and black slacks of a server, but on her blowsy figure, the uniform fit like puckered skin.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  I didn’t want to relive the details of Colin’s takeover and the awkward introductions, so I grabbed Ariana’s hand. “Come on, doodle,” I said with a brightness that made my head ache. “Why don’t you come help me write the specials on the blackboard?”

  “Okay.”

  Once we left the kitchen, my head quieted. Funny, I hadn’t noticed the buzzing until it disappeared. I found breathing easier, too. Go figure.

  Ariana skipped to the maître d’ station and pulled out the bucket of colored chalk while I placed the blackboard on the nearest booth’s table. Removing the chef’s hat, Ariana climbed onto the cushioned bench. With the bucket at hand, she read the listed specials from the index card Sidney had left us. “What’s tie-ray-do dee ma-hi ma-hi?”

  “Tirado de mahi mahi,” I corrected. “It’s a type of grilled fish, topped with avocado and mango.”

  “Good.” Ariana nodded. “So I can draw Sebastian and Flounder from The Little Mermaid.”

  I smiled. Always Disney. My kid was a Disney fanatic, which meant the restaurant’s specials board was always decorated with Disney characters. “Any particular reason you opted for that movie today?” I really didn’t expect her to have any other answer but childish whimsy.

  “Uh-huh.” She picked up the yellow chalk and began sketching. “I think Chef Colin looks like Prince Eric.”

  Great. Just what Colin’s ginormous ego didn’t need—hero worship from a second generation Rosado. I hated to dash my daughter’s romantic fantasies, but Colin was no loving prince. I bit my tongue and came up with something a little less prejudicial. “I don’t think you should call him Chef Colin, doodle.”

  “What should I call him?”

  “How about Mr. Murriere?” I suggested.

  “Chef Colin is fine, actually.”

  I didn’t have to turn around to know he’d sneaked up behind me and opted to correct my admonition. Even before he spoke, a hum had filled the air and, for once, the vibrations didn’t come from the building’s ancient heating system.

  “Feel free to call me ‘Chef Colin,’ sweetheart,” he told my daughter. “After all, if you’re going to be my new apprentice sous chef, I want us to be on good terms.”

  I could have continued the argument, but I sensed Ariana’s keen interest, and I backed down with grace. She already wondered why I’d never mentioned my connection to Colin while we’d watched him compete on television. I didn’t need her questioning my open animosity toward him, as well. I nodded and refocused my attention on my little girl. “Hey,” I said, pointing to her blue and yellow striped fish. “That looks great.”

  And it
did. Like her father, Ariana had a talent for art. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stay inside the lines in a child’s coloring book.

  “We don’t have red chalk,” she replied. “For Sebastian.”

  “Can you use pink?”

  She looked up at me as if I’d suggested drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa. “No. That would be horrible!”

  Yeah, I kinda figured. “I know,” I said after a minute of quick thought. “Instead of focusing on just The Little Mermaid, why not draw characters from other Disney sea movies, as well. You could draw Nemo or Dory, the oysters from Alice in Wonderland—even Cleo from Pinocchio.”

  She glanced down at the blackboard, then up at me again. “Maybe,” she replied with a doubtful lilt.

  “Or,” Colin cut in, “maybe, instead of mermaid stuff, you could add ‘Be Our Guest’ across the top, then draw Lumiere, the candlestick, and Chip, the teacup.”

  Ariana’s smile flashed like lightning, illuminating her face and the room. “Yes! I can do that. And maybe the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, too.”

  Before I could add any additional comment, she picked up the yellow chalk and eagerly began outlining the curvature of Beauty and the Beast’s talking candelabra, using her chef’s hat as a reference.

  “Now that Ariana’s got her direction, come sit with me.” Colin jerked his head toward the bar with its gleaming wood-grain top, created from a massive tree uprooted during the infamous Long Island Express: the hurricane of 1938. “Let’s talk.”

  I stood near the maître d’ station, planted deeper than those old elms, hands on my hips. “Why?”

  “I want to share some of my ideas for this place.”

  “With me?”

  He arched a black-winged brow. “You’re the maître d’, aren’t you? Who knows the staff and clientele better?”

  No one. Stiffening my spine, I followed him. Maxie already stood behind the bar, setting up for tonight’s drink specials.

  Colin kicked out a stool and patted the burgundy leather cushion. “Sit.”