Before I Knew (The Cabots #1)

by Jamie Beck

  Her fall? Not even a doctor that young could buy that story. Alec clenched his jaw to keep from calling his dad out. The only thing stopping him was the fact that it would make things worse for his mom.

  “Thanks, Doc. When can I see her?” Alec’s father asked, still appearing out of sorts, which meant he was still processing Alec’s tirade.

  “The nurse will be in with release paperwork and care instructions. If you need anything, call this number.” The doctor handed him a card. “If you notice symptoms like vomiting, dizziness, or double vision, bring her back.”

  “Okay, thanks.” His father shook the doctor’s hand. After the doctor left, he raked his hand through his hair.

  “Give that to me.” Alec reached for the card.

  “I’ll be taking care of your mother. Once she finds out about how you treated your brother, I doubt she’ll want to see you for a while.”

  That might be true, but that would be her choice, not his father’s.

  “I don’t trust you with her.” Alec glared at the man he’d forgiven so often throughout the years. “Honestly, maybe I’ll file a restraining order on her behalf. If you won’t get counseling to deal with your grief, that’s your choice. But I already told you, I’m not going to sit by while Mom’s safety is in doubt.”

  A plump, elderly nurse disrupted their stare-down. She crooked her finger at Alec’s dad. “Your wife’s ready to be released. I just need to go over this paperwork with you.”

  Alec ducked out of the waiting room while they spoke, sneaking back to find his mom sitting at the edge of the bed, slipping on her shoes. She hesitated to make eye contact with him, as if she should be ashamed of what her husband did.

  He crouched down, setting one hand on the mattress. “Mom, I want you to stay with me for a while.”

  She sighed. “Where’s your father?”

  “With the nurse, signing your release papers.”

  “I don’t know, Alec.” She touched her bandaged stitches. “I just don’t know.”

  “Be honest with me. Has this happened before?”

  She shook her head. “I promise, he’s never hurt me. I’m not afraid of him, I’m just tired.”

  “I’m afraid for you. We’re lucky that blow didn’t do more damage. How many chances will you give him?” Alec stood and rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll never change if you don’t take a stand.”

  His dad walked in then, worried smile fixed in place. “Let’s get you home. Doc says you can’t do anything, so I’ll be your handservant for the next week. You should like that for a change.” His lame joke fell flat as he moved awkwardly around the room, trying not to spook her.

  The three of them waited in silence, listening to the sounds of shuffling feet and bleating equipment coming from the hallway. Alec held his breath, awaiting his mom’s decision.

  “Frank, I’m going home with Alec.” She slid out of the bed, keeping one hand on the mattress to test her balance.

  “Julie—” His dad stepped toward her.

  “No, listen to me.” She held up a hand. “I’ve warned you about the anger and bullying. Joe left a bottomless hole in our hearts, but I’m tired of living in mourning. I’ve begged you to try to move on, but you can’t or won’t, so now I need to think about my future.”

  When his father’s jaw slackened, Alec realized he’d never seen his father shell-shocked.

  “What are you saying, Julie? Are you leaving me?” His dad’s wide eyes and slumped shoulders almost made him look sympathetic. Lost, even. At the very least, that bombshell stopped his dad from blurting out Alec’s fight with Joe, which meant Alec would be able to tell her on his own.

  “Thirty-five years of marriage doesn’t entitle you to assume that you can run our lives however you want without consequence. If you want me back, you need to make some changes, and not just with me. We lost a son, but we have another one right here. One who’s been willing to forgive you for years of hurtful parenting, yet you continue to push him away. I’m not going to lose another son because you think you’re the only person whose feelings matter.” Her eyes watered, but her voice didn’t waver. She linked arms with Alec. “I need to stop at home to pick up a few things.”

  “Okay.” Alec wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her shaking.

  “Julie, for God’s sake.” His dad drew a deep breath. “Come home and we’ll talk about this, but don’t go to Alec’s.”

  “I have to.” She didn’t even look sad so much as she looked defeated.

  “What do you expect me to do now?” His dad’s hands went out, palms up. “Take a knee and beg?”

  “I don’t expect anything. All I know is that I’m not happy with the life we’ve been living. I don’t deserve to be standing here in this hospital room, either.”

  If his dad looked lost, his mother looked detached. Alec took no joy in this moment, but he did feel safer knowing she’d be with him for the night, maybe a little longer.

  “Let’s all take a deep breath and talk tomorrow,” Alec suggested. “Hand me the instructions and get some rest. Nothing permanent is being decided here.”

  Alec’s mom laid one hand on his father’s chest. “I love you, Frank. I just can’t live this way any longer.”

  She strolled out of the room without looking back.

  “Alec, don’t think you’ve won.” His dad’s voice was low and lethal.

  “No one’s winning anything, Dad. If you can’t see that, I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Go on and go. I can’t stand the sight of you right now.”

  “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.” Alec shook his head, having nothing left to say, and followed his mother.

  Confessing his fight with Joe and argument with his dad to her on their way home hadn’t been easy. She seemed more sad than angry, which he regretted. Still, a burden had lifted by telling the truth. Even as his family crumbled around him, he knew a certain sense of freedom from having finally stood up to his father.

  It wasn’t until he had his mother settled in his apartment that he’d even thought about work, or Colby. When he plugged in his phone, it lit up with a dozen messages and texts. He dialed the restaurant and waited for Becca to pull Colby off the floor.

  “Where are you?” she asked without preamble. “When I couldn’t reach you, I called the hospital. Is your mom okay?”

  “For now. I’m getting her settled.”

  “You’re still with her?”

  “Yes. She’ll be staying at my place for a while.”

  He heard Colby suck in a breath. “Where’s your father?”

  “At home. She’s threatening to leave him.” He sighed and began reciting the details of his afternoon.

  Colby listened to Alec describe his traumatic day, her heart sinking with each sentence. “I’m proud of you for telling the truth and standing up to your dad.”

  “Little good it did. Both my parents are hurting and disappointed in me, and it doesn’t change the fact that my mom ended up in the hospital because of me and our foundation.”

  Colby repeatedly stabbed her pen into the notepad on her desk. Once again, she’d been a catalyst for trauma in the Morgan family. “I’m sorry. I would’ve kept her name out of the article if I’d known her involvement was a secret.”

  “It’s not your fault. She posed for those photos.” Alec sighed. “Maybe she wanted to shock him.”

  A huge risk, considering how that vase could’ve caused much more damage. An image of Mark’s cracked skull flashed, turning her stomach. Why couldn’t she escape violence and tragedy? Her thoughts circled that question until Alec’s voice brought her back.

  “How’d Chris handle the dinner rush?”

  “I think well.” She pictured Gordon Jeffers sampling his entrée—flared nostrils, impeccable table manners. The enigmatic man had given no sign of his opinion. Her stomach dropped at the thought of telling Alec the news, but better he hear it from her than someone else. “Clyde thinks Gordon Jeffers was here ton
ight. I warned Chris, and the waitstaff was on top of the service end, so I’m confident it went well.”

  After a pregnant pause, Alec asked, “Are you sure it was Gordon?”

  “I didn’t ask, but we think so. He was with a woman, and they paid with cash.”

  “Fuck!”

  Silence.

  “Alec?” Had he put down the phone? “Alec?”

  “I’m here.”

  She envisioned him sitting alone in the dark, stabbing his hair with his fingers. No doubt this would go down as one of his worst nights in recent memory. She hated feeling so powerless. “Please don’t worry. Everything went fine.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “That’s probably true. But it wasn’t exceptional, I’m sure of that.”

  She heard a rattling, as if his fist had pounded against some object. “Don’t overreact.”

  “Overreact?” A strangled laugh followed. “I think I’ve earned the right to some anger tonight. Everything I’ve done to rebuild my reputation has been sideswiped. Trust me, Chris can’t do what I do yet. Dammit, I’m screwed.”

  A mix of anger and anguish, so raw it hurt her heart, tore through his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Alec. About your family, about the bad timing tonight. But getting worked up now won’t change anything. My finances are wholly tied to A CertainTea, and yet I’m not ranting.” We still have each other. Even as she thought the words, she knew not to say them. Not now, when they’d sound trite—even condescending—given his current state of mind.

  “I told you before, the executive chef gets all the credit and all the blame. You can fire me and get a new chef. A CertainTea will go on, with or without me. My reputation follows me wherever I go.” Alec fell silent, so she waited, listening to the sound of his breath through the phone. “I can’t talk about this now. My mother needs me.”

  “Should I stop by after closing?”

  “Thanks, but I’m exhausted, and I doubt my mom wants company.” Alec sighed. “For all I know, my dad may come storming over later to drag her home. Seeing you wouldn’t help. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Heaviness bunched up in her chest. He might not have meant for his offhand remark to hurt her, but it had. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t involved with me.”

  When he didn’t respond, she let out a long sigh, hoping the release would ease the ache in her lungs.

  “I don’t regret the time we’ve spent together.” Alec’s words might’ve been reassuring if his voice hadn’t sounded so hopeless.

  “Take tomorrow off to help settle your mom.” They needed time to regroup, and she didn’t want Alec taking out his frustrations on the staff. “We’ll manage brunch without you.”

  A sour laugh came through the line. “Guess the damage is already done.” After another muttered curse, he said, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”

  Would he think that if he knew that she’d ignored the rumor? Now would be the worst time to tell him, though. “Alec, maybe the review will be fantastic, and you’ll see that you’ve got a whole team to count on. That you’re not alone.”

  A beat of silence passed. “Let’s just talk tomorrow. My family has to be my priority right now.”

  Colby hung up and cradled her head in her hands. The navy-blue fund-raiser invitation, edged with silver glitter, lay on her desk, taunting her. The Maverick Foundation and its potential for good had inadvertently caused irreparable harm.

  Two years later, the aftershocks from their families’ tragedies were still wreaking havoc. What would they claim next?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anyone familiar with award-winning Executive Chef Alec Morgan would expect a select yet ambitious seasonal menu at A CertainTea, a new restaurant located on the east shore of Lake Sandy. Surprisingly, its menu lacked cohesion—the first sign that his much-anticipated return would not fulfill the promise of his former glory.

  Colby set the paper down again, unable to read the full review a third time. Statements like “time off left him rusty” and “inconsistent presentation” ping-ponged inside her head and would be like a knife to Alec’s chest. That bit about the menu lacking cohesion—totally her fault. Alec had only added that fried-chicken dish to please her. Now he’d suffer public humiliation, because that review was not at all what he would’ve hoped for, or what he’d be proud for his peers to read.

  She stared out her living room window at the foggy skies. For the past few weeks, Monday mornings had involved waking up wrapped in Alec’s arms, fabulous breakfasts followed by reading while he worked on a puzzle, like the partially finished one taking up half her dining table now, maybe a stroll to Powell’s or along the Willamette.

  This one, gray and silent, seemed lonelier than the years of Mondays sandwiched between Mark’s death and her new relationship with Alec. He’d barely spoken with her yesterday, so she’d given him and his mother space to recover. Doubtful he’d be more interested in speaking with her today after he read the review.

  She ripped the newspaper in half, crumpled it into balls, and tossed it in the trash. No use focusing on things beyond her control. Time to take action where she could, beginning with A CertainTea’s response to that damn critic. She’d need Gentry’s help with that. Fortunately—or not, depending on one’s perspective—Gentry was mere minutes away at Jake’s apartment.

  Colby grabbed her keys and ambled through several blocks of heavy fog to meet her sister at a park bench on West Burnside. She cooled her heels while waiting for Gentry, who apparently believed clocks were invented as a mere curiosity. When her sister finally arrived, she’d tossed a Voodoo doughnut in Colby’s lap as a peace offering.

  Sugar typically did the trick, but even a Lemon Chiffon crueller doughnut didn’t much lift Colby’s spirits this morning.

  “Chill out, Sis. It wasn’t a terrible review. In fact, it might even get some people to come see if they agree or not.” Gentry flicked the fallen purple sprinkles from her Grape Ape doughnut off her skirt. “Even if it had been shitty, one crap newspaper review isn’t going to tank your business. Look at Yelp and TripAdvisor. In less than a month, you’ve racked up almost a hundred reviews, with an average of 4.4 stars.”

  “Alec cares about real critics’ opinions.” Jeffers’s review likely tanked Alec’s wish to be in the running for another James Beard Award this year and next. If only she hadn’t convinced him to change the menu, or altered his management tactics. If she’d just warned him that the critic might show up that very night.

  If, if, if. If she hadn’t interfered on so many levels, might Chris and the others have performed better on Saturday? Or had Alec’s original tactics caused the problem? More confounding what-ifs that would never be answered. “His reputation means everything to him. He’s worked so hard. His personal involvement with me and the foundation are basically why he wasn’t there Saturday night. I should’ve warned him about the rumor.”

  “Stop.” Gentry slapped Colby’s leg. “You’re more important to Alec than some stupid critic and awards from anonymous people.”

  “Don’t be sure. Those ‘anonymous people’ make and break careers. Alec’s self-esteem is tied to his talent and reputation. Losing Une Bouchée broke him before. I could throw up from thinking about how he’ll handle another perceived failure.”

  “We’ll spin this stupid Jeffers review. Alec wasn’t even working.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It’s his kitchen, and we’ll look desperate if we try to blame the problems on his absence.”

  “Everyone who’s eaten there knows the restaurant rocks.” Gentry scowled, licking the last bit of icing from her fingertips. “We’re not going to let one turd with an attitude have the final word.”

  Colby couldn’t help but laugh. Humor felt oddly out of place yet wonderful given the past couple of days. “Before you put anything out there, I want to see it. We need to be tactful.”

  “You think I can’t be subtle?” Gentry’s brows rose.

  C
olby eyed her sister’s lime-green sneakers and neon multicolored paisley top. “Not usually.”

  “Just because I don’t work in a cubicle—and I dress with a bit of flair—doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything from Dad and my mom. Trust me. I’ve got your back.” Gentry crossed her legs and lazily turned her top foot in small circles. “The problem is that the critic expected A CertainTea to be a carbon copy of Une Bouchée.”

  “It might’ve been if I hadn’t insisted on something a bit more casual. Now Alec’s being penalized for that compromise.”

  “It’s your restaurant, and nobody forced him to work there.”

  “It’s more complicated than that, and you know it. He never would’ve lost Une Bouchée if Mark hadn’t made that stupid dare.”

  “Again, not your fault. Besides, we can’t fix the past.” Gentry flicked her wrist, waving the history away as if it didn’t matter. “I say we go with the angle that the critic just didn’t get it. You and Alec weren’t trying to re-create Une Bouchée. You’re going for something hip, designed to appeal to a broader base, not a narrow band of critics.”

  Colby conceded it was their best option. “Run with that, but don’t directly reference the review. Do it more like a promo piece.”

  “See, I’m not an idiot.” Gentry grinned.

  “I never said you were an idiot.”

  “No, just ‘too intimidated’ to try.”

  “I already apologized.” Colby squeezed Gentry’s thigh.

  “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

  “I’ve had a hard enough time this weekend.”

  “Sorry.” Gentry put on her futuristic-looking Dior sunglasses. Colby grinned because Gentry always looked like she jumped out of an editorial shoot in Vogue. “Well, I should get going.”

  “Jake’s waiting for your return?”

  “Yeah.” The lack of enthusiasm surprised Colby. “I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be in the picture. I’m a little bored.”

  Colby refrained from clapping. “Oh?”

  “Like I’ve said all along, I’m just out for a good time. At first it was fun to hang out all around the city and meet tons of people. The extra cash was nice, too. But it’s becoming ho-hum now. My friend Melanie wants to take a trip to Napa, and I’d like to be single for that. Soooo, time to break up with Jake.”