Unraveling the Pieces

by Terri DuLong

  Cynthia laughed. “Well, it’s not mandatory. But Earle has introduced me to some of his friends outside of the restaurant.” She waved a hand in the air. “Hey, maybe Peter just wants to keep you all to himself.”

  “Maybe,” was all I said.

  Peter had decided we should take advantage of the beautiful weather and drive south along A1A to have dinner at a restaurant he knew in Ormond Beach.

  When we arrived, it was obvious that the staff knew who he was.

  An older man came forward, pulled Peter into a bear hug, and clapped him on the back.

  “It’s been a while,” he said, a smile covering his face. “Marion was just saying the other day it’s been much too long since we’ve heard from you.”

  Peter laughed and nodded. “Busy. The business is keeping me tied up at the moment.”

  “Ah, but not too busy to escort a beautiful young lady to dinner? Good, good. Come this way. We have a nice table on the deck overlooking the water.”

  When we were seated, Peter said, “I know the legal drinking age is twenty-one, however, if you’d like a glass of wine or a cocktail, I think that could be arranged.”

  Up until now, I’d only ever had a few sips of wine or beer that Cynthia or a boyfriend had managed to get.

  “Really?” I said, suddenly feeling more mature than my nineteen years. “What do you suggest?”

  “Daiquiris are very popular right now. Rum and lime juice.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll try one.”

  Peter gave the waitress the drink order and sure enough, she never questioned my age.

  When she returned, I took a small sip and nodded. “Very good. I like it.” The tart, citrus flavor was refreshing and very different from the bitterness of beer or sweetness of the wine I had tried.

  He took a sip of his bourbon and water and nodded back. “I thought you might. That drink seems to be the rage with my sister and her friends.”

  “So how do you know the man who greeted us?” I asked.

  “Milo? Oh, he’s the owner and has been a friend of my family since before I was born.”

  I felt flattered that he’d chosen to take me to the restaurant of an old family friend. I would be sure to let Cynthia know this.

  “So how is your job going?” he asked.

  “Very well. I enjoy working at the hotel. Everybody is friendly, and Joyce—she’s the one we report to—really looks out for us.”

  “Did you have to sign an agreement to stay a certain amount of time?”

  I nodded. “Yes. We agreed to stay until the end of May and Memorial Day weekend. We were told that some of us might be asked to stay on through the summer. But I guess that will depend on how busy they think they might be with reservations.”

  He took a sip of his drink and nodded thoughtfully, before saying, “If there’s no further work for you at the hotel, what are your plans?”

  I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. May was still three months away.

  “I mean, will you return home?” he asked. “Go back to Pennsylvania?”

  “When I applied to come here to work, I was hoping to be able to stay in the area. Make enough money to attend a local secretarial school here and then find a job. But I’ll have to wait and see what happens in a few months.”

  The waitress returned with the menus and flashed a huge smile at Peter. “Milo said to tell you that he got a shipment of Maine lobster this morning.”

  “Ah, well, that settles it then. Lobster it is!” He looked across the table at me. “You do like lobster, don’t you?”

  Although I had never tried it in my life, I nodded and smiled. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  We continued talking as I soaked up the ocean waves rolling in to shore, Peter’s handsome face, and the tart taste of my drink. This was certainly a far cry from my previous winters spent in Pennsylvania.

  When the waitress returned and placed a platter of boiled lobster in front of me, I think a nervous expression crossed my face, because Peter said, “I’ve always found the easiest way to eat these things is to just crack them open with this and dig out the delicious meat with this one.”

  He held up unfamiliar utensils in the air.

  I nodded and mumbled, “Right.” And then proceeded to watch his every move.

  Within a few minutes, I found I was getting the hang of it and even dipping the succulent pieces of lobster into the small bowl containing drawn butter, just as Peter was doing.

  I didn’t think I had ever tasted anything quite so good. I was focused on the culinary feast I was enjoying when I heard Peter laugh.

  I looked up to see a smile on his face. “Enjoying it?”

  “Oh, my God! I can’t believe how good this is. I’ve never had . . .” I started to say and then realized what I was about to admit.

  But Peter brushed it aside and said, “Yeah, lobster is special,” before he reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just like you are.”

  The drink was tasty. The lobster, delicious. But being special in Peter’s eyes made me feel on top of the world.

  By the time we left the restaurant and headed back to Amelia Island, I knew I had never been happier.

  As had become our ritual at the end of an evening, Peter pulled into a parking lot along the ocean. But instead of staying in the car, this time he got out, reached into the backseat for a blanket, and then opened my door, saying, “Come on. Let’s go sit on the beach for a little while.”

  It was after ten and the beach was deserted when he spread the blanket and we sat down. I felt his arm encircle me before he lifted my face for his kiss. This time our kisses became more intense. More passionate. After a few minutes, it was Peter who pulled away, breathing heavily.

  He reached for my hand. “I like you, Rhonda. I like you a lot.”

  “I like you too,” I whispered.

  He let out a deep sigh and nodded.

  We sat there for a while longer in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts.

  I heard the tide lapping the shore, and I saw a sliver of the moon hovering over the ocean. I wondered where we were headed, where whatever it was we shared would end up, and I shivered.

  “Cold?” he asked, pulling me closer.

  I shook my head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “I’d like to take you to my house sometime,” he said. “To meet my father outside of the restaurant.”

  “That would be nice,” I replied as I smiled up at him.

  And I knew that Cynthia had been needlessly concerned.

  Chapter 9

  There had been no further word or visits from Jonah the following week. But this didn’t prevent him from occupying my thoughts

  I had been kept busy knitting away making spa cloths to give at our Christmas tea. And I had managed to volunteer on Monday and Wednesday at the shelter. Both times the first thing I did was to check to make sure Lucy and Ethel were still with us. They were. On the one hand, I felt sad that they still hadn’t been adopted, but on the other hand I was happy that perhaps Jonah might still have a chance to take them home.

  I awoke Thursday morning and remembered I had an appointment for Lotte with the vet in the afternoon. I wanted to get her registered at the local practice and she was due for her annual checkup.

  My phone rang mid-morning and I was surprised to hear Isabelle’s voice.

  “I promised I’d call,” she said. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing well. And you?”

  “Busy. Things have slowed down a little at work. People aren’t interested in house hunting a couple weeks before Christmas, but I’ve been busy shopping and decorating. I was wondering if you’d be free tomorrow for lunch?”

  “I am,” I told her. “Yes. That’ll work for me.”

  “Great. Why don’t we meet at LuLu’s at noon?”

  I hung up with a smile on my face. Damn Isabelle. I could be so annoyed with her, but I had to admit that I missed her company. Maybe tomorrow we could recapture some of what I felt we�
�d lost these past few months.

  * * *

  Lotte and I pulled into the parking lot of the veterinarian’s office about fifteen minutes before our appointment. I figured there would be some paperwork to do.

  I reached into the backseat and picked her up. “Come on, sweetie. You’re going to meet your new vet today.”

  I put her down near some shrubbery so she could pee before going inside. Today she was sporting a red-and-green Christmas beret on her head, but I’d passed on an outfit because of her exam.

  I glanced up and saw that the sign outside the office read “Wellington Veterinary Clinic.” Below this, was printed “Ben Wellington, DVM.”

  Walking inside with Lotte in my arms, I was greeted by a smiling young woman behind the desk.

  “Aren’t you a cutie,” she said, reaching out her hand for Lotte to sniff. “Petra Garfield with Lotte, right?”

  I nodded and returned her smile.

  She passed me a clipboard with papers and said, “If you’ll fill these out, Dr. Wellington will be with you shortly.”

  Lotte curled up beside me on the sofa while I completed the forms and then returned them.

  A few minutes later the door opened, and another young woman called, “Petra Garfield and Lotte?”

  “Yes,” I said, getting up and carrying Lotte down the corridor behind her.

  “Right here,” she said, indicating a door on the left.

  I placed Lotte on the exam table.

  “I’m Cathy, the tech. Any problems going on that the doctor needs to know about?”

  I shook my head. “No. She’s doing very well.”

  “If you could put her on the scale there, we’ll get her weight.”

  I did as instructed and heard her say, “Very good. Ten pounds, two ounces.” She went to the computer and entered some information. “Does she need her annual injections? Heartworm test?”

  I nodded. “Yes. She’s due for that.”

  “Appetite good?”

  I nodded again. “Yup. No problems.”

  “Great. Dr. Wellington will be in shortly.”

  She came over to ruffle the top of Lotte’s head. “She’s so cute. Love the Christmas beret.”

  “Thanks,” I said and smiled.

  I had my back to the door and was leaning over the exam table talking to Lotte when I heard it open.

  I turned around at the same time the vet looked up from his clipboard, and our eyes met.

  “It’s you?” I said. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Because standing in front me, looking as surprised as I, was Jonah’s father. Jonah’s father was a vet?

  “Yes. It would appear that it is me,” he replied. He adjusted his glasses in the same manner that Jonah did, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. “Do you still want me to do the exam? It’s up to you.”

  God! Talk about awkward. And why was Lotte acting like a traitor, wagging her tail and attempting to get the vet to pat her?

  I shrugged. “Yes. Sure. Okay. We’re here now.”

  He walked to the other side of the table, and the tech came back into the room to assist. Which allowed me to step back and slink into the corner.

  “Hey, there, pretty girl,” he said, addressing Lotte.

  She placed her front paws on his chest and began lapping his cheek. Oh, yeah, definitely a traitor.

  “We’re just going to check you over,” he said, completely ignoring me.

  He proceeded to remove the stethoscope from around his neck and listened to her heart and lungs. “Very good,” he said.

  He then palpated her back and ribs, checked her ears, looked into her eyes, maneuvered each leg and nodded.

  “She’s obviously very well cared for.”

  This was said without looking at me.

  “Okay, ready for your injections?” he said, before giving her the shots. “And now we’ll take a little blood for the heartworm test.”

  He passed the vial to Cathy, who left the room.

  “It’ll just take a few minutes for the results,” he told me, briefly glancing in my direction.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, going to the table to cradle Lotte in my arms. “Good girl,” I whispered to her.

  He busied himself at the computer, entering information. It was obvious that Lotte was taken with him. And I couldn’t help but recall that dogs are excellent judges of character. He had been very nice to her and certainly seemed to be a caring vet. And that was when I recalled he had attempted to make amends to me with the flowers.

  Cathy came back into the room and said the heartworm test was negative.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “She’s in very good health. Continue with her heartworm pills. Do you need a refill?”

  I nodded. “Yes. A one-year supply, please.”

  Cathy left to get them.

  “You know,” I said, “I wanted to . . . ah . . . thank you for the flowers. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a nice gesture.”

  His head swung around to stare at me and I could see by the expression on his face he had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

  “The what?” he said as Cathy returned and passed me the packet.

  I realized in a heartbeat exactly what had happened and thought I might die of embarrassment right there where I was standing.

  “Oh . . . um . . .” I had no words and knew the best thing was to get out of there. Fast.

  I scooped Lotte into my arms, stopped at the front desk, paid the bill in cash because it was quicker, and all but sprinted to the car.

  I placed Lotte in the backseat, slid into the driver’s seat, and blew out a huge puff of air. My head dropped onto the steering wheel as I let out a groan.

  Throwing back my head, I said, “Oh, my God! It was Jonah! It was Jonah who got the flowers, brought them to me and then pretended they were from his father.” Why in the world would a ten-year-old kid do something like that?

  I pushed the keyless ignition, backed out of the parking lot, and headed straight up Granada. To Koi House. Where I could hide in my shame.

  * * *

  I was so upset by what had happened, I changed my mind about going to the yarn shop as I had planned. Walking into the house, I headed straight to the fridge, poured myself a glass of Pinot Grigio, and took a big gulp.

  Settling myself on the counter stool, I shook my head. What had just occurred was like something from a romantic film. I took another sip of wine. After a few minutes, I got up to check the chicken dish I was cooking in the Crock-Pot.

  An hour later I wasn’t feeling much better, but it did occur to me that I never had to see Ben Wellington again. I could just find another vet for Lotte. Right. There were plenty of vets in the area. And if I never told anybody what had happened, then nobody would ever know the extent of my humiliation.

  There was no doubt about it—I had never been this mortified in my entire life.

  Chapter 10

  I almost choked on the bite of my salad tomato. “You think it’s funny?” I hissed at Isabelle. “Why are you laughing?”

  I should have stuck to my original plan and not mentioned one word of my encounter the day before. But over a glass of wine and a girlfriend lunch, I was feeling mellow and missing the sharing that Isabelle and I used to do. So I decided to bring her up to date on Jonah, his father, and the humiliating vet visit.

  “Well, you have to admit,” she said, “it is a bit humorous. You meet this guy, he tells you off, and then you find out he’s your vet.”

  I took a sip of wine. “I’m not so sure he’s going to remain my vet.”

  “How was he with Lotte?”

  “Good.” I neglected to tell her that he was in fact very good and that Lotte had been way too friendly.

  “I would think that’s all that matters.”

  “Yeah, well, it was very awkward. Bad enough that it was the guy who put me in my place at Petco, but then I thank him for flowers he didn’t even send.”

  Isabelle nodded. “Yeah. Wh
at was that all about? Why would his kid do that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  She waved a hand in the air in her usual dismissive way. “Well, don’t let it bother you. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it.” She took a bite of salad before saying, “Unless . . . unless you might be attracted to him?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  She shrugged. “It’s just that you’d normally brush off something like this. Why is it bothering you so much?”

  She did have a point. I had innocently mentioned the boy’s mother. And then I was merely being polite thanking him for the flowers. How was I to know he had not sent them? There was really no reason to dwell on the embarrassment of the situation.

  “Well?” she questioned when I refrained from saying anything. “What’s he look like?”

  “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.” I took another sip of wine. “But he’s . . . kind of preppy looking . . . in a sort of... sexy way.”

  “Hmm. Interesting.”

  I didn’t bother to question her definition of interesting. “So how’s Chadwick?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

  A smile covered her face. “He’s great. Meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me. Well, after having Haley, that is. But yes, he’s fine. As a matter of fact, he’s booked a holiday for the three of us to the French Alps to go skiing. We leave the day after Christmas and Haley is beside herself with excitement.”

  “Oh, my gosh, Isabelle. That is exciting! You’ve never gone skiing, have you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Never. But he’s arranged for Haley and me to have lessons. I think it’ll be a lot of fun.”

  “It certainly will. I’m really happy for you, Isabelle. How long will you be gone?”

  “Ten days. My mother said she’d take Ginger for us. Haley was worried about her dog, but she’s happy her grandmother will keep her at her house.”

  “That’s great. Your life has certainly turned around in the past year.”

  She nodded. “Don’t I know it. Yeah, a year ago I had made the decision to move to Ormond Beach, but I had no clue what the results would be.”

  The next hour was consumed with Isabelle talking about her favorite topic: herself.