Suzanna noticed the light was on in the tearoom. She looked closer and saw Andy. Had he come back to work? It was the middle of the night—that was crazy!
She walked into the front yard. Andy was in the tearoom all right, and so was Harri. Harri and Andy?
Oh my God! Even Harri is getting lucky!
Suzanna crept up to the window and looked inside the Bun. She closed her eyes, afraid she must be losing her mind. When she opened them again, she beheld the same unnerving sight:
The tearoom was finished!
She flattened herself against the wall between two of the windows. It wasn’t possible. The room had still been covered in plastic and paint buckets just a few short hours ago. She peeked in again. Now the room was softly lit with candles. The candlelight flickered over the mismatched bone china and played up soft shadows on the new tea-colored walls. She saw Harri and Andy again, but realized there were more people in the shop as well. She counted Erinn, Eric, Fernando, and Carla, too. Harri came close to the window and Suzanna ducked again.
What was going on?
She listened for Harri’s footsteps to disappear and then looked in again. The room was so beautiful that she wanted to cry. The fact that it was impossible for the room to be done and all her friends to be there in the middle of the night made her want to cry, too, but for other reasons. Was she going crazy?
She couldn’t hear what anybody was saying, but by the collective body language, she could tell that everyone was upset and on edge. She wondered if she had died and was witnessing her own funeral reception. She dismissed that idea immediately—surely there would be more people at her funeral. The patrons of the Bun knew that, even if it were a funeral, Suzanna would make sure it was a party.
She bit down on a knuckle as she realized what was going on. She steeled herself and looked in again. Against the far wall, above the double doors leading into the kitchen, was a beautiful banner that read Happy Birthday, Suzanna. It was hand lettered in tea colors. She steeled herself, crept around the back of the building, let herself in without turning on the lights, and felt her way up the stairs. She would face them—and soon.
But not without underwear.
As she wriggled into the first pair she could get her hands on, pieces of the last few hours fell into place. The conversation between Eric and Carla about keeping a secret from her. Harri trying to convince her that she shouldn’t be dating employees. Carla being shocked that Suzanna was going dancing. Andy stalling.
They had the party planned and she had ruined it.
She’d only been thirty-three for less than twenty-four hours and she was ruining everything. She was the Anti-Jesus.
As horrified as Suzanna was at the prospect of facing them, she was determined to make this up to her friends. She started back down the stairs, avoiding by instinct every creaking step on the staircase. The sad little book nook was dark and silent, but she could hear voices buzzing in the teashop.
“There’s a LoJack on her car,” she heard Fernando say. “Maybe we should call it in and see where the car is.”
How dare Fernando even suggest such a thing? That would totally infringe on her rights as an adult—not to mention making them all look like idiots because the LoJack people would find the car in the driveway. Suzanna sighed in relief when she heard Eric say:
“We can’t do that. The car is registered to her. She’s the only one who could call.”
“Well, we have to do something,” Erinn said. “She’s been gone for hours.”
Suzanna could hear the terror in her sister’s voice. She braced herself to go inside . . . hoping some plausible lie would come to her. But even if it didn’t, it wasn’t fair to keep her friends and family in suspense any longer.
They’ll probably be so relieved I’m okay, they’ll forgive me for ruining the party.
That thought cheered her up and gave her enough confidence to step into the room. She stared at everyone and everyone stared at her.
“Surprise,” she said.
“I think that’s our line,” Erinn said.
Suzanna stared at the floor. She couldn’t think of anything more to say. She certainly couldn’t explain why she was so late—the humiliation would float her. She heard a rustling and lifted her eyes from the floor. Erinn was putting on her coat. Harri took her cue from Erinn and gathered up her belongings as well.
“I think I’ll get going, too,” Harri said, kissing Suzanna on the cheek. “The important thing is, you’re safe. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Suzanna said.
“All’s well that ends well,” Harri said.
“All’s well that ends,” Erinn said, and the two women left.
Suzanna looked around the room.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I don’t understand . . . it was a wreck this afternoon.”
“It was a ruse,” Fernando said.
“A ruse?”
“We were faking you out!” Fernando said. “The place was finished two days ago, but we left it looking like we still had weeks to go, so we could surprise you for your birthday.”
“Well . . . you did! I’m totally surprised.”
“Go to hell,” Fernando said, and stalked out of the room.
“Look, I better go, too,” Andy said. He looked sorrowfully at Suzanna. “I came back for the party. I didn’t mean to rat you out. It’s just that . . . when you didn’t come home . . .”
“That’s okay,” Suzanna said. She hadn’t really thought of accusing Andy of anything, so it was easy to be magnanimous. She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for coming to my party.”
Suzanna hugged him. She realized that it was silly to start acting like the hostess of her disastrous birthday party at this stage of the game. It was as if she were standing on the deck of the Titanic, kissing people and waving them off cheerfully as they struggled into lifeboats. But at least it gave her something to do.
“That’s okay,” he said in a low voice. “Listen, Suzanna, when you didn’t show up, I went back to Monsoon. Rio was there and . . .”
Rio went back to the club?
“I’m just going to walk Andy to his car,” Suzanna said to Carla and Eric. “Be right back.”
Suzanna took Andy’s arm and hurried outside. The air had a slight chill to it, but Suzanna was sweating anyway. She knew that whatever Andy had to say was not going to be good.
“I went back to the club to see if anyone had seen you. Rio was there with Lauren . . .”
“I didn’t see Rio,” Suzanna lied.
“I know. He said he hadn’t seen you after we left.”
He said he hadn’t seen me? What a loser.
Suzanna recovered from the shock of Rio’s lie. She couldn’t very well bust him, since she was lying, too.
“Oh. Well, then. What did you want to tell me?”
“Rio and Lauren are moving to New Zealand.”
Suzanna waited for her heart to stop. But it kept on beating. In fact, it didn’t skip a beat.
I guess I’m really over him!
The thought surprised her. She had told herself in the past that she was over guys, but she was usually just trying to convince herself. Now her only regret was that “You have spinach in your teeth” were the last words he’d said to her.
As far as endings went, Casablanca it wasn’t.
“Yeah. They’re leaving tomorrow,” Andy continued, breaking into her thoughts.
“I guess we’ll have to find another instructor.”
“That’s just it, Suzanna, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Andy said, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m not going to take any more classes.”
“Oh, no,” Suzanna said. “It’s not because of me, is it?”
Andy tilted his head in confusion.
“Why would it be because of you?”
She hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. Sometimes Suzanna’s ego surprised even her.
“No reason.”
“I’m moving,”
he said. “I really loved working here and it made me want to open a place of my own . . . a B and B up north.”
Suzanna caught sight of a shadow. She turned to see Fernando walking toward them.
“Hey, Fernando, I’m sorry . . . I’ll only be a minute . . .”
“I need to be in on this conversation,” Fernando said. Suzanna had never heard him sound so serious.
What is going on?
“I’m going with Andy,” Fernando said.
“Right now?”
“I’m going to open the B and B with him.”
Suzanna blinked. It was too much information, too fast. She thought about all the hours Andy and Fernando spent alone. She had always prided herself on her gaydar. How could she not have seen this coming?
“You’re gay?” she asked Andy.
“No, I’m not gay. Why would you even ask that?”
“Do business partners need to have the same sexual orientation?” Fernando asked.
“But . . . but . . .”
“Look, Suzanna, all of us have been hanging on to this arrangement for far too long, and you know it. The tearoom is finished and you can have a fresh start. I need one, too.”
He grabbed her wrist so she wouldn’t float away. How was she ever going to find another friend like that? Who would keep her grounded? She swallowed and tried not to cry.
“You can have my gingerbread recipe,” Fernando said.
Suzanna sputtered. She willed herself to not wreck the moment—after all, she had created it.
“Where are you going to go?”
“Vashon Island,” they said in unison.
“But you hate Vashon Island,” Suzanna said to Fernando through tears that refused to stop.
Fernando grabbed her and hugged her so hard it hurt. It hurt on so many levels.
“People change, Suzanna,” he said into her hair. He released her. “Look, I’m going to go get some coffee with my new business partner. You have some other people to talk to . . .”
Suzanna sniffled. The guys wished her happy birthday one last time and headed down the street. She looked back at the tearoom. She had no choice but to go back in.
Maybe Carla and Eric had gone upstairs, now that they know I’m safe.
She was half right. Carla was nowhere to be found when Suzanna came back inside. Eric was seated at one of the tables, head in his hands. She spotted her birthday cake on a side table. It stared at her accusingly. She swallowed a lump in her throat—she knew it was a red velvet cake, her favorite—and that Fernando had made it for her.
“Anyone want some cake?” she asked Eric, trying desperately to remain in hostess mode.
Without waiting for an answer, she picked up a knife and started slicing into it.
She hurriedly cut two large pieces, hoping to make the cake look well-loved. She put the plates down in front of Eric, who stared at the offering as if he’d never encountered cake before. Suzanna took a hefty bite.
“Hmmm . . . yum,” Suzanna closed her eyes.
“Suzanna, we need to talk,” Eric said.
Suzanna got up and studied the remodeled tearoom.
“This is gorgeous, isn’t it? Carla really outdid herself.”
“Yes, she did . . . Suzanna—”
“It’s so funny. I overheard you and Carla talking about the
party . . .you said you didn’t want to lie to me. I thought you guys were back together. How crazy was that?”
Eric looked at her. She knew him too well not to know she had surprised him . . . and it wasn’t that she’d overheard him. Her heart sank.
“You . . . you weren’t talking about the party, were you?”
Eric shook his head. Suzanna walked over to the table and lowered herself into a chair.
Whatever he has to say, I deserve it.
“I’ve been offered a job back in Napa when I get my degree. I didn’t want to tell you until after your birthday. I didn’t want to ruin the day for you. I’ve decided to take it.”
“Is it because you want to be with Carla?”
Eric slammed the table and stood up. Suzanna could see his muscles tensing under his shirt as he paced the room.
“No, damn it. Not because I want to be with Carla. That’s ancient history—to everybody but you.”
“So it’s not because of Carla?”
“No, Suzanna, it’s because of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. When I found out you were taking those . . . stupid dance lessons . . .”
“Oh. Yeah. Andy told me he told you guys about that.”
“Andy didn’t have to tell me! I’ve known for months.”
Months?
“You used the wrong credit card at the dance studio. So, I got the bill.”
Suzanna looked down at the table, ashamed. Now that it was all behind her, she realized how silly she had been. And she could tell by the sound of things that it was too late to fix it.
“I waited and waited for you to tell me. Dancing isn’t a crime,” he continued. “I mean, what’s so important about dance lessons that you had to hide them?”
“I . . . I just wanted some space.”
“Well, congratulations, now you’ve got it.”
“But I don’t want it any more. I want things to go back the way they were.”
“They can’t,” he said, grabbing both sides of the table and glaring into her eyes. His voice softened. “They can’t.”
She watched Eric as he turned his back on her and left the shop. Suzanna wandered around the room. She shook a few of the tables. Not one of them wiggled.
I better put that shim back under the bookcase. I’m already in enough trouble.
She took down the “Happy Birthday, Suzanna” banner, gently folding it and putting it next to the cake. She walked into the hallway that separated the tea shop from the bookstore. She could see a light coming from the back office. Eric must be in there. She hesitated, wanting to see him, but decided he had said all he had to say. She climbed the stairs to the Huge Apartment. Fernando’s bedroom door was open—he must still be out with his new partner. She looked down the other hall, to her room, where Carla was presumably already asleep; the door was old, and when the light was on, you could see it outlined in the doorframe. The door was dark.
Suzanna sat down at the kitchen table, took a deep breath, and listened. The entire building was silent. She couldn’t have had more space if she lived on the moon.
CHAPTER 22
Suzanna put a kettle of water on the stove. She opened the cupboard and looked at their vast selection of teas: besides the usual favorites, there were some new offerings, thanks to Fernando’s ever-reaching research. She chose gueifeicha—“concubine tea,” a current favorite of the household, thanks to the “green” nature of the tea . . . it was a pesticide-free, biologically grown oolong tea. Every step of the tea preparation stabbed at her like a knife. Signs of Fernando’s and Eric’s devotion were everywhere—from the tea she was drinking to Eric working away in the office at three in the morning.
She kept looking at the stairs, hoping Eric would come up, but there was no sign of him. All her rummaging around in the kitchen did wake Carla, however, who stepped sleepily into the kitchen. She sat at the table and put out her hand . . . their secret signal that she’d like some tea, too.
“I guess Eric was right; we shouldn’t have kept the tearoom a secret,” Carla said. “That was probably one of my worst ideas ever.”
“No, it was a great idea. I just was so self-absorbed, I ruined everything.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to agree with me.”
“But I do. I agree wholeheartedly.”
“Do you know Fernando is leaving?”
Carla nodded. “And before you say anything,” she said, “I didn’t try to lure Eric back to Napa.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
Carla gave Suzanna a look that she’d been using since they were six. It said, Who do you th
ink you’re kidding?
“Okay, I’m too tired to debate this, anyhow.”
“Suzanna, you just really blew it, you know.”
“Hey, lighten up. It’s my birthday!”
“Truly yesterday’s news, girlfriend.”
Suzanna put her head on the table and rolled it from side to side.
“I can’t believe they’re leaving me,” Suzanna said, her head still on the table.
“Well, I hope last night was worth it.”
“It totally wasn’t! I’ve blown my life apart for one night of creepy foreplay.”
“Eeewww.”
“You have no idea. And to top it all off, he was a talker.”
“Too much detail, Suzanna. Seriously.”
They both groaned.
“Listen, Suzanna, this is none of my business, but . . .” Carla reached out and squeezed Suzanna’s arm. “. . . that’s never stopped me before, so here goes.”
Suzanna stopped rolling her head and waited. When Carla didn’t say anything, she put her head up and looked at her friend, who was wiping away a tear.
“I’ve waited all these years for you to figure it out, but you never did. I was selfish and should have told you sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Wait! Wait! What? I don’t understand.”
“When Eric and I broke up in high school, it was because. . . .”
“I am SO listening . . . go on.”
“It was because he said he was in love with you.”
“What?”
“I know . . . I know . . . I should have told you, but I thought if I told you, I would never get another chance. But I respected his wish and nothing. . . . I swear . . . nothing has happened between us in all those years.”
The Merchant of Venice Beach Page 19