He made me laugh, but he didn’t try to kiss me. I kept my distance.
Caterina, Damian, and the boys flew home to Chicago, and I missed them deeply.
The breakup with Neil still wrung my heart. There had been no texts, no e-mails, and no phone calls. We’d quit each other cold turkey. I couldn’t help but remember how similar it had been with Éric—one argument, and I never heard from him again.
Focusing on work kept me from falling apart. For the time being, Nico, Frank, and I decided to keep the restaurant open six days a week, at least for the first three months. Frank had pushed for seven, but Nico and I agreed that we wanted Sunday dinners with our parents. If the business remained steady over the next three months, we’d look at adding lunch and hiring more staff to give the core staff a respite.
I spent my days keeping track of the numbers, staying on top of our ordering, and managing the restaurant’s social media. I managed the background music and the flower arrangements on the tables, finding indie artists and unusual blooms to bring variety to our establishment. If I had a window of time, I’d visit my mom. Sometimes we talked, other times I found myself holding her steady as she vomited into a basin.
In the evenings I put on a dress or smart separates and kept everything moving efficiently at the front of the house, making sure the food made it to the tables quickly and without drama.
One Friday Adrian and I took Gigi for a leisurely evening walk after work, in the dark.
“I like the city like this,” he said. “Peaceful.”
“It’s nice.”
Adrian cocked his head to the side. “Want to have a picnic with me tomorrow? I’ll cook. You can bring Gigi, if you want.”
“She’d like that.”
“And you?”
I tilted my head and shot him a sideways smile. “I’d like it too.”
Sandrine arrived in Portland just as the blackberries began to ripen on the vines. She brought a breath of fresh, lavender-scented air, settling into my parents’ guest room and immediately making herself useful in the kitchen and tidying the areas of the house my father and Sophie hadn’t been able to attend to.
She reminded us she’d been a nurse until the management of the chateau had fallen into her hands. Auguste had quit his job tending the Tuileries Garden in Paris and returned to Chateau de l’Abeille beside his wife.
Naturally she asked about Neil once we had a moment alone.
“We had a disagreement,” I said carefully. I hadn’t told my mother the true nature of the argument, and I couldn’t risk Sandrine passing it along.
“C’est tragique,” she said, “but it happens. This Adrian? Your brother’s friend? He makes you happy, does he not?”
“He does,” I said, an easy smile spreading across my face. “It’s not at all serious—I can’t even think about anything long term right now—but Adrian’s good company.”
Sandrine shrugged. “Bon idea. He is handsome.”
“And he’s sweet, when you get to know him. He makes sure I eat during the dinner shift.”
“Ah! That is a good quality in a man. But you miss Neil, don’t you?”
I looked away, stung. “I shouldn’t.”
“You loved each other.”
“We did.” I shook my head. “How is Grand-tante Cécile?”
“She is good, well enough. Auguste dotes on her, and I’m not sure she knows I am gone.”
“I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”
“We all have our difficulties in life, lose people in different ways.”
“I have a key,” I said, changing the subject before my eyes could finish tearing up. “I found it in Grand-mère’s things. It’s probably a long shot, but I wonder if it might fit that odd closet of yours.”
“Mais oui, the mystery closet. I can take it home with me when I leave, see if it happens, or if the house rebels.”
We laughed together.
“How long are you planning to stay?” I asked.
Another shrug. “Je ne sais pas. I had thought a week or two, but perhaps longer,” she said, her eyes cutting down the hall to where Maman slept. “I do enjoy Portland, you know. So much coffee, so serious about everything, so much protesting—it is practically French.”
I laughed the way I was meant to, and forced myself not to read into her words. “It’s wonderful having you here,” I said. “And not just because of your croissants.”
She read the worry on my face anyway. “It is in God’s hands. And this is not our only world. I know one day I will be in heaven, and my mother will know my face.”
“You’re right.”
She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Be at peace, Juliette. There are grand plans for us yet.”
Readers Guide
1. When Juliette is on the phone with Neil, she tells him that she wants her job and she wants him too. Do you think having both is possible?
2. As she travels through Europe with Neil, Juliette feels as though their relationship exists best in a bubble. Have you ever had a relationship or friendship that formed under specific circumstances? Did it translate into everyday life?
3. Back at home, Juliette struggles to balance her work life and her family life. What do you do to establish work-family balance? In what ways do your methods need to be fluid?
4. The letters reveal Mireille’s great love for Gabriel and the tragic events that unfold during the German occupation of France. Why do you think Mireille never told Gabrielle about her father or her sister?
5. Juliette travels to Memphis and is surprised by how different it feels from her world. Where have you travelled that felt far from home? Would you consider moving to such a place for another person?
6. The more Juliette gets to know Adrian, the more her opinion of him changes. When in your life have you found your opinion about someone changing?
7. What do you think about Juliette’s telling Gabrielle about the letters? Would you have waited or told her sooner?
8. Juliette has family ties in both France and Italy, and she enjoys the local cuisine and culture as she travels. Which country calls to you more? If you had to choose between Rome or Paris, Provence or Tuscany, which would you choose, and why?
9. The food in Reservations for Two is a character all on its own. What kinds of recipes send you to the kitchen? Which recipes from this book would you consider trying?
10. Juliette decides to hope for good things, even when doing so doesn’t make sense. When have you had similar moments in your life?
Acknowledgments
I have many people to acknowledge and thank, but here’s a little secret: writing this book was not terribly easy, and I have blocked much of it out. So if you’re reading this and we had a lovely conversation and I forgot to thank you, your treasure in heaven shall be even greater.
My agent Sandra Bishop is always at the top of these lists, and I’m so glad to have her.
Many thanks to my editor, Shannon Marchese, whose thoughts and insights into each character proved invaluable, as always.
Thanks to Laura Wright, who shepherded this book (and the last) through copyediting.
I’ve said it before, but authors are some of the loveliest people you’ll ever meet. I’m so thankful for the supportive prayer and community provided by Carla Stewart and Katie Ganshert, the plot chats with Sarah Varland, the shop talk with Carla Laureano and Elizabeth Byler Younts, and the Bingo with Allison Pittman, which perhaps didn’t apply directly to the book but fed my soul just the same.
Giant thanks to Shiloh the Girl Band (a.k.a. Rachel McMillan and Melissa Tagg). You guys are the best, both in person and online, and you brighten every day.
Many thanks to Kara Christensen and Rachel Lulich, whose feedback I appreciate so much.
Merci beaucoup as well to Malika Renard and Diane Schwieger, for their (often late-night) French assistance. Grazie mille to Alessandra Gardino for her invaluable Italian translations, cultural input, travel advice, and tiramisu recipe.
/>
Super huge thanks to my recipe testers, Noël Chrisman and Aimee Madsen. This book tastes better because of you.
And speaking of, many thanks to the winner of the recipe contest, Heidi Toth, whose strawberry ice cream recipe fits the text so perfectly.
Many thanks to my family, who have always been so supportive of my crazy job.
And to Danny, who has to live (and work) with a woman on deadline, and who is so very wonderful at picking up Indian takeout and listening to the particulars of people who don’t actually exist. The character of Neil is based loosely on him, but the real Danny is so much better—I am so thankful for him.
About the Author
HILLARY MANTON LODGE is a storyteller at heart. She is the author of Plain Jayne, a Carol Award finalist, and Simply Sara, an ECPA best-selling book. A graduate of the University of Oregon’s School of Journalism, Hillary discovered the world of cuisine during an internship at Northwest Palate magazine. In her free time she enjoys experimenting in the kitchen, watching foreign films, and exploring her most recent hometown of Portland, Oregon. She shares her home with her husband, Danny, and their Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Shiloh.
COMING MAY 2016
Look for the Conclusion to the Two Blue Doors Series
Food writer Juliette D’Alisa can’t avoid her culinary heritage. With pressure from brother Nico to leave her career and start a new restaurant, Juliette finds relief talking to online love interest and non-foodie Neil McLaren. That is until a photo leads to family secrets and life gets stickier than ever before.
Read an excerpt from this book and more at
www.WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
Reservations for Two Page 30