California Wishes

by Casey Dawes

  “Sure.” They’d been intimate enough to produce a baby; surely a peck on the cheek was fine.

  Then why was she fighting an urge to wash her face?

  Daisy trailed him to his car and back, as if making sure he was behaving himself. He returned to the kitchen with a huge box of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils.

  “We’re going to have to start stocking this kitchen,” he said, arranging his tools on the counter.

  “Mandy and I are going to an auction in a few weeks.” Sarah plucked her computer from the table, shut it, and put it on an old cabinet that had come with the house. Slumping into one of the chairs, she realized her lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with her.

  “Who’s Mandy?” Rick started putting the groceries away.

  “She’s the chef I’m hiring.”

  Rick paused with two red peppers in his hands. “But I’m going to be your chef. You don’t need another one.”

  “We haven’t decided that. We’re dating, remember?” The words sounded strange to her ears. Dating her baby’s father? Shouldn’t they automatically be together? Wasn’t that the best for her child?

  Did it really matter whether or not Sarah was in love with him?

  Peppers clattered into the refrigerator’s vegetable drawer. “We just have a few kinks to work out. I’m sure we’ll be back to the way we were in no time.” Rick put his hand on her shoulder. “You look tired, hon. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll write up a list of what else I need, go down to Grenaldi’s and get it. By the time you wake up, I’ll have a good, nutritional lunch for you and the baby.”

  Her eyes wouldn’t stay open another minute. “Okay.” She stood. “Thanks, Rick. It’s nice of you to do this.”

  He crossed and took her in his arms. “I’m not doing this to be nice. We’re partners, remember? We’ve just got one more in the partnership now.” He patted her stomach. “Now, get some sleep.”

  She slipped from his arms. “C’mon Daisy.” The retriever padded after her into her bedroom.

  Before she lay down, Sarah locked the door behind her, a shiver of unease climbing into bed with her.

  Sarah awoke to clanging pots and pans. She slowly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash her face, the scent of lavender soap soothing her. The mirror told her the bags under her eyes had diminished, but her face was still pale.

  Unlocking the door, she followed the savory scents to the kitchen, Daisy a shadow at her heels. A glimmer of hope emerged when she saw Rick’s familiar figure at the stove. He stirred, tasted, cocked his head, and then added a bit of salt.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Ah, there you are! It’s almost ready? Sit!”

  He grabbed one of her two garage-sale soup bowls, ladled the thick soup into it, and placed it and a spoon in front of her.

  She stirred the liquid, releasing finely-melded aromas. “What is it? Smells delicious.”

  He smiled and sat down with his own bowl. “Chicken soup — good for what ails you.”

  She took a sip. “Better than any chicken soup I’ve ever tasted.” She returned his grin.

  Their eyes met and she relaxed. This was the old Rick, fun-loving and hard-working. She could fall in love with him again. She knew it.

  “What would you like me to work on after lunch? It’s a beautiful day. Maybe take a walk on the beach after lunch and then go to work?” The energy of his increased enthusiasm filled the kitchen.

  She shook her head. “I have to be careful how long I stay on my feet.” She spooned another delicious mouthful. With Rick as their chef, the inn would make an impact more easily than working with Mandy’s unknown expertise.

  Maybe Rick would take Mandy on as a sous-chef. Sarah studied Rick as he ate his soup, knowing he was analyzing the flavors as he ate.

  Probably not. Rick liked to work alone. That’s why they’d decided on an inn. Sarah could help out in the kitchen when he needed it.

  Would the change ruin her friendship with Mandy?

  “Well?” Rick asked. “I can hear those wheels turning. What are you thinking?”

  “How about the kitchen garden? I’ve gotten someone for the front, but we could weed out the garden in the back. It hasn’t rained for a few days, so the ground shouldn’t be too muddy.”

  “You hired someone for the front? You still have to get furniture and this kitchen set up? You’re rushing things. You‘ve got to make sure we have the money to cover what we need in here. The cuisine will be the cornerstone of the inn, not the gardens.”

  The muscles in her back tightened. “I’m watching my money. I’m the one studying business, remember?” She caught the sharpness in her tone and took a deep breath. “The gardener is a friend of a friend and very inexpensive. Annie wants to have her wedding here in June, so I need to make sure it looks nice.”

  “Our first wedding! I’ll have to create a tasting menu for it.”

  She suppressed the urge to yell. He was taking far too much for granted. Or maybe he was over-excited, like a small child. Physical exercise would be a good thing. “I have some gardening tools I brought over from my mom’s last night. You’re right. It’s too beautiful to stay inside.

  “Sure. Let me clean up. I also need to prep something for dinner.”

  “Good. I’ll work on the website while you’re doing that.”

  He frowned. “Shouldn’t you hire a professional for that?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe later on. But I know enough to get started from some extra classes I took. Web design is ridiculously expensive and all we need right now is a simple site.”

  “If you say so.”

  I certainly do. Sarah picked up her computer and retired to the small room she’d designated as her office. Her high school desk and chair weren’t Victorian, but they were perfect for the job. Daisy lay at her feet and Sarah got to work.

  An hour later, she had an idea of a design for the Sarah’s Inn website. As she registered the domain name, she paused. Would Rick go along with the name? Should she confer with him before she got the name?

  No. It’s my money and my inn.

  She clicked the purchase button.

  “Sarah?” Rick’s voice wafted from the kitchen.

  “In here,” She completed the transaction and closed the computer.

  “What are you doing?” Rick leaned against the door jamb, flour on his jeans, and a smile on his face. He was cute in an Irish kind of way — thick and wavy reddish hair and beard.

  She stood. “Looking at designs for other inns. Are you ready to go outside?”

  “Think I could get a tour of the place, first?”

  “Oh. Sure. Not much to see, yet.”

  “That’s okay. I have a great imagination.” He looked her up and down and smiled.

  She knew he was kidding her. “C’mon Daisy. Upstairs.”

  Daisy trotted up the stairs.

  “It’s going to take a lot to get these rooms up to the state we need them to be in,” Rick said after viewing the upstairs bedrooms.

  “That’s why I’m planning a slow open. Open one room and then a second, and a third, and so forth.”

  Rick frowned. “I can’t cook for just one person and you can’t cook. How are you going to manage breakfast?”

  “I figure I’ll order from Gayle’s.”

  “I suppose we could do that for the short run, but I think it will hurt the image.”

  She’d had enough. Turning to face him, she said. “Look, Rick. I know you’re enthusiastic about the inn — ”

  “Not only the inn. You. Me. Us.” He kissed her lips.

  She backed up a step and grabbed the railing to keep from falling. “You’re rushing things. You’ve only been here a few hours. It’s too early to determine whether or not we’r
e going to work. I don’t want to make a plan and then have you decide you don’t want anything to do with it.”

  “This isn’t like getting pregnant.” His speech became clipped. “I know what I’m getting into and I want it.”

  “Like you didn’t want the baby.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “No. Don’t twist my words. God, I hate it when you do that.” He put his hands on her arms. “Let’s not do this. I’ll back off. However, you want to work it, that’s fine with me. For now. How long do you think it’ll be before you make a decision?”

  So much for backing off.

  “I’ll let you know in May before I start opening.”

  “May? That’s three months away!”

  Pressure from tears began to build behind her eyes.

  “You can’t wait for three months for me to make a decision that will change our entire lives?” she asked.

  “You already made that decision. For both of us!” He glared at her.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

  “Right. It was an accident.”

  “It’s not an accident. We’re going to have a baby — not an accident.” The tears spilled out of her eyes.

  “Damn. I’ve done it again. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not as adjusted to the idea as I thought.” He pounded his fist against the wooden corner piece. “Let’s go work in the garden. Outdoors will be good.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I think you better go now, Rick.”

  “But — but, what about dinner? What about the garden?”

  “It’ll have to wait. I need to be alone now.”

  “Fine!”

  After Rick stormed from the house, Sarah sat on the top stair and wrapped her arms around Daisy.

  Why can’t this be easier?

  Chapter 12

  After a solitary meal of leftover soup, Sarah went to bed early, exhausted by the drama of the afternoon. She dreamed of running down an endless road, rain pouring around her, vines creeping into the road, tripping her up. She knew she had to get someplace important before her baby was born. A fork in the road made her hesitate. In the distance on the right she could see Rick, waving frantically.

  The rocky alternative twisted out of sight between treeless hills.

  In her dream she sank down on the dusty road while the scene faded into nothingness and she drifted into a deep sleep.

  The sun was streaming through her windows when her eyes opened the next morning. She lay in her bed, blinking, for a few moments while she tried to remember where she was.

  And more importantly, which way the bathroom was located. When her feet hit the chill wooden floor, reality returned in time for her to find the correct doorway and relieve herself.

  She was a single innkeeper having a baby unless Rick had his way. Then everything would change.

  Returning to bed, she burrowed under the blankets. It was Sunday. She could be lazy until lunch.

  Lunch. Was Rick coming back? She hadn’t heard from him since he’d stormed from the house the day before.

  Shit. She’d made a mess of things again. Rick was trying to do the right thing by her and the baby and all Sarah could do was provoke him. Her baby deserved better.

  Her baby. Was it a he or she? Did she want to know?

  I suppose I should discuss it with Rick.

  Her mind rebelled at the suggestion. It was her body, her baby. He’d provided a swimming tadpole and then had wanted nothing to do with the result.

  He was trying to make up for it now.

  Her head hurt and Sunday sleep departed.

  After her shower she dragged herself into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared in. Scrambling eggs seemed like a lot of trouble, but her doctor had stressed the need for protein.

  She stared out the back window as she prepped her meal. Grackles and starlings flitted in the trees. Would the vibrantly colored finches come in the spring? She could put out bird feeders to attract them. Hummingbirds, too.

  The baby would be fascinated with the birds. Sarah imagined them in the garden, her child entranced by the overhead winged creatures while Sarah picked herbs for the evening dinner.

  Who’d be cooking?

  No, she was not going there again.

  What was she going to do with herself? She was pinned to the house, waiting for Rick to show or not show. However, she’d committed the time to him, so even if he was in a snit, she’d be true to her word.

  She looked around and realized she was running out of things to do in the house. The space needed furniture, lamps, and other decorations.

  Garage sales. It was off-season, but with a nice day anything was possible and she definitely needed to get out of the house.

  She could call her mother’s house to find out Rick’s plans.

  Rising from the table, she washed the pans and dishes and put them in the rack to dry. The doorbell rang.

  “I’m sorry,” Rick said and handed her a bouquet of daisies.

  Good thing she’d thrown out Hunter’s faded flowers so she could recycle the red bucket. Looking for a vase would be an objective for on her garage sale rounds.

  “Okay,” she said and went to the kitchen. Daisy and Rick followed.

  “I have to go back to Davis early,” Rick continued. “I won’t be able to stay for dinner.” He glanced at the drying dishes. “I see you’ve had breakfast. I could make you lunch.”

  “Why don’t we go out to lunch?” she said. “There’s a new place down by Rio del Mar I’ve been wanting to check out.” Neutral territory was less of an emotional minefield. She dragged out the red bucket and arranged the flowers.

  “Uh. Sure. Let me collect my stuff and load it into the car. Then we can head out.”

  “Can we take two cars? That way you can head back to Davis and I can run some errands when we’re done.”

  He looked at the bucket. “Fancy vase.” He grinned.

  “On the list.” She smiled at him. Maybe we can make it work. Yesterday’s argument was just a lover’s spat.

  While Rick loaded his car, Sarah made sure Daisy had food and water, and then locked up the inn.

  Their lunch conversation was surprisingly animated. Rick caught her up on the interim classes he’d been taking between semesters, private tutoring taught by the area’s best chefs. She questioned him in detail, getting more ideas of the types of food she wanted to serve at her inn.

  “How about I come down next weekend, too?” Rick asked. “I could make up for being a jerk and create the dinner I’d planned.”

  She laughed. “That’d be great! Next weekend … ” She took out her phone to check the calendar, hope igniting again. “I’ll mark it down. I’ve got such a busy schedule, you know.” She clicked to the appropriate page. “Oh. Sorry. That’s not going to work.”

  “Why not?” His words were tinged with suspicion. “Got a date?”

  “I told you. I’m not dating anyone while we’re trying to work things out. Don’t be ridiculous.” She looked up with a smile. Her breath shortened when she recognized the scowl on his face. “I didn’t mean to put you down, Rick. But I did mean what I said about committing to making this work.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His face belied his words.

  “Next weekend I’m going with Mandy to buy furniture at an auction sale in Livermore.”

  “I could meet you there.”

  “That’s okay. It’s going to be hectic and I have certain pieces in my mind that I’m looking for. I’ve spent the last few months studying Victorian furniture. I’ve got a good idea of what will fit in the inn and enhance the rooms.”

  “Sounds like a brush-off.”

  She touched his hand. “Not really, Rick. It’s just when I get focused like this, I tend to sa
y the wrong things and you get upset. I’m better off alone.”

  “But you’ll be with Mandy.”

  Mandy isn’t nearly the work that you are.

  “Mandy’s … she’s just a friend. Really, Rick, it will be better that way. If I find anything, you can help me arrange it the next weekend when you’re scheduled to be here.”

  Sarah knew she was making excuses, but she kept the smile on her face and her eyes on his, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  After a moment he said, “Sure. I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Coffee?” The waitress asked.

  Sarah shook her head. “We’d better get going.”

  They split the check and left the restaurant.

  “I’ll miss you,” Rick said and pulled her in closely.

  The pounding surf should have added a romantic undertone to their kiss.

  Should have.

  • • •

  Sarah turned south when she left Rio del Mar. It was a good day for a drive the antique shops and second hand stores of Moss Landing.

  She let herself relax as she drove down Highway 1, the messy eucalyptus giving way to Watsonville’s strawberry fields. Black plastic covered raised beds stretched to the bay while hawks and seagulls soared overhead.

  After the highway went from four lanes to two, she kept a lookout for one of her favorite houses — a faux castle that looked like it had been created from cement blocks. Originally gray, the inhabitants had changed the exterior paint to lime green. The incongruity always made her chuckle.

  She banished all thoughts of Rick from her head. No decision could be made right now and thinking about him ruined her mood.

  Why?

  Not now.

  As the slough began to open up by the side of the road, she kept an eye out for egrets and herons among the stalking birds. It had been a long time since she’d walked through Elkhorn Slough Preserve. She imagined hiking through the waterways with her baby on her back searching out shore birds and otters. Would she have to do it on her own?

  Rick had never been one for the outdoors.

  Back in your box.

  Sarah eased into the small streets of Moss Landing and stopped at the first shop she saw, a cheerful yellow house held together by paint instead of nails. Perfect.