On Lavender Lane

by JoAnn Ross

  “That comes through on the programs.”

  “Oh, please.” Maddy rolled her expressive eyes.

  “It’s the truth. And I’ll bet the network people told you the same thing, so if they and your viewers can recognize it, why would you think I wouldn’t?”

  “You’re just trying to win me over.”

  “Guilty as charged.” The fact was, they were both back where they’d begun, and she was just going to have to get used to being thrown together again. The same way she was going to have to get used to the idea that they belonged together. And always had. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.…”

  “So”—he moved the conversation back to his reason for coming to the farm today—“I hate the idea of gutting all the memories this place holds. Not just for me, but for everyone else who’s ever been privileged to eat here.”

  “The entire point was to tie the restaurant into the farm,” Maddy countered. “To emphasize fresh ingredients. If we leased some vacant building downtown, it might get us more walk-in tourist business, but it wouldn’t be the same.”

  “She has a point,” Sofia agreed.

  “Which is why I’m not suggesting that,” Lucas said. “Especially since whatever place you found would probably require a complete redo. And starting over, just the way you want it, is always preferable to a remodel, which would require new wiring, plumbing, sheet-metal work, and a bunch of other stuff to bring it up to code. That’s why I was thinking that an addition would make the most sense.”

  “An addition?”

  “You could build onto the left front.” He pointed toward the exterior kitchen wall.

  “And ruin the integrity of the farmhouse style,” Maddy pointed out with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

  “Good point, and one we wouldn’t want to do. After Dad and I decided to work together, I did a lot of research, since I didn’t have his architectural background and wanted to get up to speed.”

  He took out an iPad with the sketches he’d done after Maddy had left the cottage.

  “Since it’s important to maintain proportion when adding on substantial square footage to a farmhouse of this era, we’ll want to pay particular attention to scale and have the addition contribute to the appeal while being subordinate to the original.”

  “That’s very good,” Maddy allowed as she studied the first drawing, which was the farmhouse as it looked now. But he’d also drawn in the lavender fields, since they were an important part of the vision he’d come up with.

  “Thanks. I don’t have Dad’s talent for architectural design, but I can draw enough to get by.…What I’d suggest is locating the addition ten or twelve feet back from the facade. Also, since the most expensive parts of a house are the roof and the foundation, a two-story building would give you half the roofing costs and half the foundation costs. You also save money in plumbing and heating with two stories.”

  “Lots of restaurants in New York have the kitchen and restaurant on different floors, but I was thinking more of an open-kitchen concept,” Maddy said.

  “Do you think that’s wise, dear?” Sofia asked. “Given that students will be doing the cooking? They might get more nervous with an audience.”

  “Good point.” Once again, she was thinking of what her parents had done. But what worked for them in their small Umbrian town wasn’t necessarily right in this instance. “And one we’ll have to think about.”

  “If you did build up, you could always use the space above the restaurant for an apartment if you ever wanted to take on a boarder.”

  “Or have someone move in to help around the place,” Maddy suggested, getting into the spirit of the idea.

  Which didn’t seem to thrill her grandmother. “I may be old, dear,” she said with typical Sofia spunk. “But I’m not decrepit. At least not yet.”

  “Of course you aren’t,” Lucas and Maddy said at the same time. They exchanged a look. “But one of the concepts Dad was really into was working on projects dealing with aging in place. Having an available apartment might come in handy down the road. If not, there are a lot of things you could do with the space.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Sofia said. “Though it’s not as if I don’t already have guest rooms in the main portion of the house.”

  “Here’s another idea I was playing with.” Lucas scrolled over to the next page. “To keep from having this house in a state of construction chaos, I’m suggesting you might want to go for a traditional carriage house, which Victorians often put in their side yards.

  “It would connect to the main structure by this enclosed breezeway attached to what’s now the kitchen’s outer wall.” He used the touch pad to draw an enclosed walkway.

  “Oh, I like the windows,” Sofia said.

  “Although guests won’t be using it to go back and forth, you still don’t want it to seem like a tunnel. Or bunker. The windows let in light and continue the look of the house’s facade.

  “Then, since you don’t sound as if you need the space from a second story, how about using half of it for your training kitchen? It’s bound to take up more space than an actual one. You’d leave the other half open, which would give you a soaring ceiling to open up the dining room. Especially if you add skylights here. And here.”

  He quickly sketched what he was seeing in his mind. He’d begun using the electronic tablet while in Afghanistan, exchanging ideas and Victorian design features with his father by e-mail.

  “Oh.” Sofia literally drew in a breath. “I love that!” She turned toward Maddy. “What do you think, dear?”

  “I think it could work really well. The interior wouldn’t be traditional, like people would expect from a farmhouse, so it would add an element of surprise. And since the food is all about being fresh and simple, the design should reflect that. Though”—she looked up at Lucas—“it should also be homey. Nothing too stark and modern.”

  “I totally agree,” he said, thinking of the sterility of Brooke’s Portland apartment. “We can bring warmth in with paint and by putting in some exposed ceiling beams. I also thought it would be nice to duplicate this house’s front porch.”

  More quick sketching. All those years of drawing with his own pencils and pad while sitting next to his dad as he’d worked at home had paid off. Lucas would never have any of his work hanging in a gallery, but he could get an idea across.

  “It’d give diners a nice place to sit out and have drinks and watch the sunset over the water,” he said. “Even on drizzly days, since it’s covered.”

  “That is so perfect!” Sofia said.

  “That’s a good idea,” Maddy allowed. He may still be in the doghouse, but she was beginning to warm to the idea. “It beats people standing around the hostess’s table or sitting on a bench inside,” she said.

  “You’ll probably want the bench, but we can make it work. We can also mix things up with lighting and interior design, which I’m totally leaving up to you. Since you’re the expert on restaurants.

  “You’ll want a lot of windows, which will not only bring in light, but give diners a view of the lavender fields and the ocean.” He took some tall, double-paned windows from the computer program’s library and moved them into place.

  “Maybe some atrium doors here leading out onto a patio.” He added a set of French doors. “Nothing too big or commercial-looking, but it’d probably be a popular spot on sunny days.”

  “I love it,” Sofia said on a long, happy sigh as she viewed the result. “What do you think, Maddy?”

  “Although I really hate to admit it, I think you’ve nailed it,” she told Lucas. “I also like that if we needed to, with a few upgrades and that breezeway, which would involve knocking through the exterior wall of the house, although we’re keeping this kitchen intact, we could utilize it if we needed it for larger groups. Say, a banquet or wedding.”

  “Along with the fact it’s the most logical place to add on to the original house, that was also my thought.”


  “But how are you going to heat the new section with that breezeway? Isn’t that a long way to push air?”

  “You’re right. The main house’s heating system isn’t capable of pushing hot air through the fifty feet of breezeway into the new addition, so my plan was to install a stand-alone gas heater and hot water system. We’ll also insulate the walls and ceiling to keep the warm air from escaping through the high ceiling.”

  “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”

  “It’s just a start,” he warned. “Since it’s new construction instead of a remodel, I’ll want to run it by one of the architect’s in Dad’s firm.”

  “What’s that going to cost?” Maddy asked.

  She’d changed from the naive young girl he’d fallen in love with. He supposed it wasn’t a surprise that she’d grown much more skeptical. “Nothing.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Yep. Definitely skeptical.

  “Number one, he was close friends with Dad.” He ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “Two, his wife’s a huge fan of your shows. And three, he happens to be my godfather. I was even ring bearer at his wedding.”

  Sofia beamed at that idea. “And I’ll bet you were just darling.”

  “I’ve no idea. I just vaguely remember being irked because when we went to the tux store, I didn’t get to wear a bear costume.”

  “A bear costume?” Maddy asked. Then he watched as understanding dawned. “You thought you were going to be a ring bear?”

  “Hey,” he said a little defensively, “I was five years old.”

  “Makes sense to me.” Her smile, the first full one he’d seen, lit up her face. “Okay, as much as I hate to admit it, that really is cute. I’d also pay to see you in a bear suit.…You said his wife’s a fan?”

  “Apparently, their TiVo is loaded up with your shows. Which she refuses to erase.”

  “I’m flattered. Do you think she’d like an autographed cookbook?”

  “I know she’d love one. As for the design, since I want to give him some ideas to run with, we should probably get a head start,” he suggested.

  “As if you haven’t already,” she said beneath her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

  “I was referring to layouts for your kitchen, the dining room, and such,” he said mildly. “Where you want the appliances, the storage, your students’ mise en place, that sort of thing.”

  “How do you know about mise en place?”

  “I told you: I’ve been getting up to speed on restaurant design. It’s French. Meaning ‘to put in place.’ ”

  “That’s it. But it’s more than having a physical place for ingredients and prep; it’s also a state of mind. In order to work in a professional kitchen, you have to be able to multitask while you weigh and assign each task its proper value and priority. Along with always anticipating and preparing for every possible situation.”

  “Sounds a lot like being a Navy SEAL,” he said.

  When she angled her head, a slice of sun streaming through the window lit on her hair, bringing out reddish highlights. When he imagined those wild curls draped over his chest, then lower, his mouth went as dry as sawdust.

  “I suppose it does,” she decided. He could tell she was surprised by the idea that they’d have anything but a rocky romantic history and shared chemistry in common.

  25

  One of the things Madeline had once loved about Lucas was the way they could talk about everything and anything. At first, when she was thirteen, somehow understanding that her grandmother had suffered her own horrible loss—that of a daughter—she’d tried not to dump too much of her own hurt and sorrow on the older woman.

  But Lucas, who’d not only lost a sister to leukemia but also his mother to divorce, had understood what she’d been going through, and had spent many hours with her, walking on the beach, sitting on the rocks, letting her spill out her pain and her anger at the unfairness of it all.

  “Life isn’t always fair,” she remembered him telling her. At fifteen to her thirteen, he’d seemed so much wiser. More experienced. “If it was, Elvis would still be alive and all those impersonators would be dead.”

  She remembered it being the first time she’d laughed since being told about that plane going down.

  He’d been a friend before he’d become a lover. Perhaps, she thought now, they might find their way back there again.

  “Although I’m not an architect like my dad, I did build my share of Lincoln Log and LEGO buildings,” he said now. “And I’ve read a lot about architecture, because while I might not have wanted it for my own life, there’s nothing like being part of a building coming to life. And while I was reading about the culinary business, I realized it has a lot in common with building.”

  “How?”

  “Both cooking and building came into being to fulfill necessary human needs.”

  “Eating and shelter,” Sofia said.

  “Exactly. Both involve a merging of science and art. Both, if they’re done right, depend more on taste than on any current fashion, and both serve patrons.”

  “That’s very insightful.”

  That line, more crease than dimple that Madeline had always loved, winked in his cheek when he smiled. “Thank you.”

  “And carrying that analogy further,” she mused aloud, “construction involves building elements, which could be seen as ingredients, plus, as you pointed out on the placement of the new wing, there are dimensional rules for proportion and size—”

  “Which would be your measurements,” he agreed. “And then once you have those, an architect or builder has to combine them in the most harmonious way.”

  “Which would be the same as a recipe giving the best taste,” she said.

  Another quick grin warmed his eyes. “Bingo. Give the lady a Kewpie doll.”

  She wished he hadn’t put it that way. It reminded her of the time their last summer together when he’d taken her to the county fair, spent ten dollars winning her a stuffed dog at the shooting arcade, then kissed her dizzy on the Tilt-A-Whirl.

  “I’m impressed,” she said. It was the truth. He’d really done his homework and gotten up to speed fast.

  “Thanks. I try.”

  “So, now that we seem to have a basic plan, why don’t you stay for dinner?” Sofia suggested. “Maddy dug some clams this morning.”

  “He knows,” Madeline said. “We ran into each other on the beach.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” Sofia smiled. “Well, she’s planning to make Kokkinisto, and I already have a marionberry pie, which I remember being your favorite.”

  “With ice cream?”

  “Vanilla bean,” she confirmed. “I made it myself. Afterward, you and Maddy can start discussing details.”

  “I appreciate the invitation,” he said. Then turned toward Maddy. “And I’ve love a chance to taste those clams, since you’ve never cooked for me.”

  Madeline folded her arms. “Which isn’t my fault,” she reminded him of that fateful night.

  “Touché. But here’s the deal. I’ve already accepted an invitation from Charity to have dinner with her, her jarhead, and Sax and Kara.”

  “By jarhead, you would be referring to a U.S. Marine.”

  “That’s it. But, apparently, he calls me a frog boy, so I figure we’re square. She also said something about a cupcake baker.”

  “From Take the Cake?” Blonde, blue-eyed, and lean as a whip?

  “That’s her. Which, thinking of it, maybe we can talk to her about financing.”

  “What would a baker know about financing?”

  “That’s the same thing I asked Sax when he told me she was responsible for him getting the money to fix up Bon Temps when the bank wouldn’t give him a loan. Apparently, she’s a former CPA who knows a lot of finance people.”

  “Oh. That’s quite a career change.”

  “Sedona’s smart as they come,” Sofia said. “And so nice. She actually grew up on a commune in Arizo
na.”

  Where she undoubtedly picked up the concept of free love, Madeline thought as something stirred. Something that felt too much like jealousy for comfort.

  She realized that somehow Lucas had picked up on her train of thought when a too-sexy sparkle lit up his eyes. But, thankfully, he didn’t comment.

  “Then I’ve got to run up to Portland tomorrow morning to handle some stuff left from Dad’s estate,” he said. “How about we meet here around three?”

  “Fine.”

  She shouldn’t be piqued that he’d turned down an invitation to dinner. After all, Sax was his closest friend and former teammate, and Charity, being his stepsister, was the only family he had left other than his mother, whom he didn’t appear to be all that close to. And no wonder, given the circumstances of her having left her husband and son to fend for themselves in such a sorrowful time.

  Plus, despite his ridiculous earlier claim he was going to marry her, she’d already insisted their relationship was only business.

  Which, suddenly, perhaps because of the sexy cupcake baker, he appeared willing to accept.

  It was what she wanted. What she’d insisted on.

  So why did she feel like a teenage girl stood up on prom night? For the head cheerleader?

  She might not have a CPA. She might not look like a quintessential California girl with that smooth slide of blond hair and big Barbie blue eyes. But she was an intelligent woman. A talented, successful chef. A celebrity. Of sorts.

  She could multitask with the best of them, was levelheaded, and, unlike so many in her profession, was not given to temper or wild swings of emotion.

  So, she wondered as she stood at the kitchen window and watched him walk back to his truck, with all that she had going for her, how had she managed to make such a mess of her life?

  26

  “So,” Charity said as she handed Lucas an icy bottle of beer. “Kara tells me that you’re planning to stay in town a while.”

  “Which she undoubtedly heard from Sax.”