Reserved

by Tracy Ewens

  “What do I want to put on this burrito?”

  “Cheese,” came a little voice.

  “Yes! Lots of cheese.” Kenna then pretended to sprinkle shredded cheese down Paige’s body, being sure to tickle her along the way. “That looks perfect. Now let’s add some salsa.”

  Paige squealed but tried to hold still as the game progressed. They added a few more things, including guacamole, Paige’s favorite, and then with as much dramatic flair as she could muster, Kenna did a gobble, gobble, kiss, tickle that would have made Cookie Monster proud. Paige laughed herself exhausted and then, with a big sigh, wrapped her little arms around Kenna’s neck.

  “That was a good burrito.” She kissed Kenna’s cheek.

  “It sure was.”

  “See, aren’t you glad you didn’t stay grumpy and miss out?”

  “I am, Peach, I am.” She kissed her daughter on her nose and clicked off the daisy lamp on her nightstand.

  “Mama?”

  “Huh.” Makenna picked up her towel off the floor.

  “You like My Travis, I can tell.”

  Makenna was so grateful she’d already turned off the light so her daughter couldn’t see the shock. It was hard to believe she was only going to be six next month.

  “Of course I like your Travis. He’s Uncle Rogan’s best friend and I work with him. He’s a nice man.”

  “No, I mean you like like him. You want to hold his hand and play kissy-face with him.” Paige was now hugging herself and rolling back and forth in her bed, giggling.

  Makenna picked up one of her pillows and gently hit her daughter on the head. “You are silly. There will be no kissy-face. Now go to sleep, silly pants.”

  “Night, Mama.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “You too.”

  Makenna walked out of her daughter’s room, closed the door to just a crack, and leaned up against the wall of their small hallway. It was true, she did want to play kissy-face with Travis and hold his hand. Kenna had always thought bringing a man into their world would be work, but Travis was sort of always there. He’d snuck up on her, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted him to leave. At the same time, she knew Travis and couldn’t help but wonder if this was another phase of his, sort of like scuba diving or when he decided he wanted to hike all seven peaks. She would like to think he would never involve himself if he wasn’t willing to stick around, but it all felt too easy. As her father had said a million times when they were growing up, “Nothing worth having is easy.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Is that a Ring Pop?” Travis asked the following Thursday morning as they gathered to discuss the Malendar wedding, which was now less than three weeks away.

  “Sure is.” Kenna sucked it between her lips, then licked her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose.

  Travis was finding it next to impossible to maintain a professional working relationship with Makenna sucking on a bright red Ring Pop, but just as he was about to suggest they share, Logan saved the day with his professional purpose.

  “Okay, Kenna spoke with Twisted Tree and they’re all set to provide the wine.” Logan flipped to a page on his yellow pad and sat next to both of them at the corner table of the bar.

  Travis looked at Makenna when she shifted and her leg bumped his. Her face was in her laptop, but he could have sworn she was doing all of this on purpose. She sucked the Ring Pop again.

  “We are doing the roasted vegetables with a choice of the sea bass or the filet?” Logan looked to Travis for confirmation.

  “No, the ham, remember?” Travis said, finally moving his eyes off the Ring Pop.

  “Right, and the smashed potatoes. I spoke with Lacey about the ham and she’s all set to deliver. They’ll smoke them, too.”

  Travis nodded, and Makenna scrolled through the menu on her laptop.

  “I’m a little bummed they didn’t pick the wild mushroom confit because that word looked great on the menu,” she said.

  Logan shook his head. “Kate doesn’t like mushrooms.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it.” Makenna had the nerve to look relaxed. He was now the one with the racing heart and crazy eyes. Damn, how long do Ring Pops last?

  “Okay, so cheeses—goat, some kind of double crème, the Comté, and”—Logan flipped the page—“and a blue, probably that bold one from Jordan’s shop.”

  “Is the Comté the one that tastes like it was dipped in toilet water?” Makenna scrunched her face as if she could smell it.

  Add playful, Travis thought. She was downright playful.

  “No.” Logan was not amused and moved on. “Warm bread, those seeded crackers we made for Restaurant Week, some roasted grapes, and maybe like an apricot spread?”

  “Fig,” Travis said, eyes still on Makenna.

  Logan nodded and made notes. “Okay, that’s it for now. Did you order the flax linens and email the invoice to—what’s her name again?”

  “Sloan,” Makenna added, finally looking up from her laptop.

  “That’s really a perfect name for her. She came in yesterday to ‘observe’ and she’s very wedding planner-ish, don’t you think?” Logan asked.

  “Yeah, not the Jennifer Lopez movie version, more like The Devil Wears Prada Meryl Streep version, if she were a wedding planner instead of a magazine editor.”

  Logan nodded, and Travis sat there enjoying watching the two of them play off one another. There was a rhythm to their relationship that worked well professionally and connected them personally. Logan always seemed to know where Makenna was at with just one look, and she had a way of getting into his head better than anyone. They were siblings, but not in any way that was familiar to Travis. The connection was enviable and probably the result of years of caring and hard work. He felt a longing but let it go. As much as he had enjoyed kissing and would probably continue kissing Makenna, he had little experience with that kind of connection.

  “Did you get that, Travis?” Logan asked.

  Travis tried to search his mind for what had been said while he was thinking about things that had nothing to do with work or weddings, but he drew a blank.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “The cheese, I ordered it and they’ll deliver two days before the wedding. I want to make sure it doesn’t end up in the refrigerator.”

  “Oh yeah, room temperature. That’s a given.”

  He glanced up and Logan shook his head at him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just fun watching you figure things out. Strawberries or no strawberries.” Logan laughed, tore off a piece of paper from his pad, and handed it to Kenna. He turned to leave and then turned back.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. They’re using Grady’s Nana’s Depression glass for nonalcoholic drinks and Kate’s grandmother’s red punch bowl. Both have sentimental value, not to mention they’re probably worth a fortune, so Grady wants us handling those as part of food. He’s having someone drop them off next week.”

  Makenna added it to her list, closed her laptop, and the dueling Rye family cyclones left Travis sitting at the table, wondering whether Ring Pops came in strawberry.

  Makenna picked Paige up at school and drove her up to the farm for the night, as agreed. One of the goats, or does, as Paige kept correcting her, was going to have her babies soon. Makenna had spoken with her father, who was thrilled at the prospect of having sleepovers with his granddaughter until the big day. Donk, as Paige called him, agreed to drop her off at school in the mornings. They were on day one of goat watch, and Makenna was hoping it didn’t take Gracie too long to have her babies.

  With the evening free, she arrived back at work right in time to see Vinnie.

  “Vinnie is at table six. This time with a new redhead,” Makenna whispered through the service window about twenty minutes after arriving.

  “Has she gone to the bathroom yet?” Travis asked, still tossing the Brussels sprouts in his pan.

  “Not yet, but they’re halfway through the mai
n course, so it should be any minute now.”

  “Let us know when the show starts,” Logan said as he added chicken to a spinach salad and put it up in the window.

  Vincent Pastorelli, as he always introduced himself, was one of their first regulars. He’d divorced three wives and had more money than any of them would ever see. He came in for dinner every Thursday night, in some version of his Adidas tracksuit, white socks, and brown dress shoes. His hair was black with the help of Grecian Formula. He had a tan—its origin was the subject of much debate among the pizza guys. Some thought it was natural; some swore it came from a bottle. Vinnie was a nice man, a horrible tipper, and a character. He always had a date for dinner and she was usually much younger. There were a few repeat dates, but most of the time he had a different woman each week. Makenna was sure he must use a dating service—probably online, she thought as she rolled silverware and waited for the show. It wasn’t lost on her that Vinnie seemed to be more skilled at dating than she would ever be.

  “Showtime,” she said quietly through the service window. The pizza guys were already exchanging bets. The wager was always the same—whether or not Vinnie would finish out the evening once his date returned from the bathroom or if he would stand, make some excuse, and leave. Either way, every time his date went to the restroom, and for some reason they always did, Vinnie would begin having an entire conversation with himself. It was full of hand gestures and strange facial expressions and sounded like a critique of his date. Vinnie was entertaining to watch, although the first time it happened, one of the servers thought he was having some kind of seizure. It wasn’t until she moved closer that she realized it was a highly animated conversation for one.

  Tonight things were different because the redhead returned from the bathroom and they even had dessert.

  “Vinnie may have found a keeper,” Logan said as he placed two salads in the serving window.

  They were all smiling, and money was exchanged among the pizza guys as Vinnie put on his date’s coat, left his usual dollar-fifty, and waved good-bye.

  Travis took Makenna’s arm and walked her to the back kitchen. He pulled off his apron with the hand not holding her and threw it over the hook. When he saw Todd chopping carrots to whatever song was on his iPod, Travis let out a quick breath, pulled her into the dry storage, and closed the door. His eyes were wild with what looked like excitement as he paced in front of her.

  “Would you like to go out? You know, like on a date?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’d like to take you on a date. Dinner, a movie. I know you said you’re not exactly dating anymore, but I never got a chance to participate. I think I’d like to participate.”

  Kenna started to laugh and then realized he was serious.

  “You’re serious.”

  “Well, not if it’s that funny.” He turned to leave, but she took his arm.

  “Travis, come on. We don’t . . . we’re not . . . you don’t date women like me.”

  “Forget it.” Travis pulled away easily and was at the door.

  She knew once he walked out and that damn apron went on, he’d be back in front and she wouldn’t get another word in for hours. Which was great. She should have let him go because he was talking crazy. They had nothing in common. Physically they appeared to work, sure, but Travis McNulty was complete freedom and motorcycle driving and she was all about responsibility and field trips. It was perfect that he was going back to work. She should do the same and all would be right with the world. That’s what should have happened, but instead, she grabbed him again, spun him around, and pulled. Her body responded as it always did lately and promptly started to go up in flames, so she kissed him. This time, she was in charge. She was the one starting and finishing the conversation, and it was as if she were showing him that this, kissing, was all they were really good at. Her hands found their way into his hair, and when he pushed her up against the closed door, she could hear voices in the kitchen. He pressed his body into her and his hand traveled up the curve of her side. It was simple, innocent even in certain circles, but her entire body begged for more. They were at work, a stupid voice in the back of her head said. Anyone could come through that door at any minute, but she didn’t care. She was kissing a beautiful man in a pantry. When was that ever going to happen again in her life?

  Finally finished with him, she pulled back and pushed at his chest.

  “Is that a yes?” Travis asked through barely open eyes and a smile so wicked she almost went back for more.

  “This is crazy.”

  “Hey, that time was all you. Really fine skills there, by the way.”

  “I’m not your type. Dating isn’t like making lunch or cookies even. Dating could lead to complications and, well, what if you don’t even really like me?”

  “Pretty sure I do.” Travis looked down at the front of his pants, and Makenna blushed. She wondered if the blushing would ever stop.

  “I’m not like this, Travis. I’m different.”

  “I know.”

  “Then let’s just call that a kiss. We’ve had a couple of them, we’ve made some cookies, and now let’s get back to our normal back-and-forth teasing. You have clearly lost your normal, so maybe you should call up someone, a model or someone who enjoys wearing heels, and walk away. Because I’ll want a second date. And a phone call. I’m all about commitment. I have a daughter.”

  “Yes, you do, and she’s incredible.”

  “I need someone who knows . . .”

  “Knows what?”

  “Someone who knows what I need, not just what my body wants.”

  “That’s why we need a date. Just you and me, no lunches or work, just the two of us so we can figure this out. This isn’t about getting in your pants, although whether you know it or not, you’re sexy. Smart as hell too, which is a major bonus. I’d like to take you out.”

  “What has gotten into you? What about work and Logan?”

  “I don’t want to date Logan.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’ve already talked to him. He knows I’ve got a thing.”

  “You’ve talked to him? You have a thing?”

  “Makenna, relax. It’s just dinner. Sunday, I’ll pick you up around two?”

  She felt herself slip further.

  “In the afternoon? Two in the afternoon?”

  “Yeah, unless you want me to stop by in the middle of the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Her face flushed again.

  “I’ll have to get a sitter for Paige.”

  “I’m sure Logan and Kara would love to have her for the day.”

  “Why are you taking me on a day date? What, do you have a real date that night?”

  Travis laughed. “No. I want to spend time with you. Get started early.”

  “Holy hell, who are you?”

  Travis smiled, kissed her gently, and walked out. “See you Sunday at two.”

  He closed the door behind her as if he knew she needed a minute. When had he started knowing her? Her heart was racing and she’d never been more confused in her life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At first she thought she was looking up at a full moon, but Makenna looked closer and realized it wasn’t quite full. It was the one right before full—when all the glow was there except a tiny sliver—and it lit up most of Makenna’s small backyard as she stood on her patio with a cup of tea. Kara had given her a new citrus-mint green tea that she was actually starting to enjoy. Paige was thrilled and had begun spouting the benefits of green tea almost daily.

  Makenna warmed at the thought of her daughter. She was up at the farm for night two of Gracie baby watch, and Kenna missed her. She missed her noise, she thought, taking another sip and a deep breath.

  Looking up at the moon, as she often did at night, she felt small. It was strange how daily life could consume a person so much that even the little things seemed huge, like they were matters of life
or death, when really they meant nothing. She’d learned what was huge and what wasn’t when Adam died. The lesson had faded over time as doctor’s appointments, clean toilets, and whether she was wearing the right shoes or should get one of those Louis Vuitton bags owned by all the mothers at St. Christopher’s took on greater importance, but when she was quiet with herself, looking at the moon, she remembered.

  Almost a full moon, she thought. Maybe that’s what she was. It was possible a sliver would always be missing, left there by her mother or Adam or all the things she told herself. Maybe all that stuff combined kept her from being a full and glorious moon. Tears filled her eyes at the thought, but she swallowed them and held her hands to the warmth of her teacup.

  A breeze rushed through the trees and she closed her eyes, listening to the tinkling duet between her wind chime and the one next door. She loved it here, loved her home. She and Paige lived in a section of Pasadena known as Bungalow Heaven. They’d moved into their little house a couple of years ago once Kenna figured out which school she wanted Paige to attend for kindergarten. Their home was just over 1,700 square feet and it was a Craftsman, as were all of the homes in the area. When they were looking, she had loved that about the neighborhood; the houses were all built the same way, but on the outside they were so varied. Some had porches; others were shingled. Some properties had big trees and others had small manicured shrubs. The neighborhood had it all and yet there was a thread of similar.

  “Reminds me of a family,” her father had said when she brought him to see the house. “Similar, but no two are the same.” After his lovely metaphor, he proceeded to spout statistics about the crime rates and where the closest fire department and police stations were. He had come right out and said he was uncomfortable with a single woman and a little girl living alone. Kenna hadn’t had the energy to be offended at the time, and now looking back, she only saw the love behind the comment. Makenna’s mother had run off with “some rich asshole,” as her brothers liked to say on the rare occasions their mother’s absence came up in their adult lives. She was five when her mother left. With the exception of a pair of brown-and-cream colored heels with a tiny ankle strap and a silver ring with a bright blue stone her mother had worn on her middle finger, Makenna didn’t remember her. Not what she looked like or smelled like. She had no memory of bedtime stories or bath time. Every now and then when she was growing up, she would try to reach back, but there was nothing there.