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Brunch at Bittersweet Café

Page 31

by Carla Laureano


  And that alone told Melody they’d made the right choice.

  “The cream puffs and éclairs are gone,” she told Talia. “I heard someone say they were the best they’d tasted. Well done.”

  “Your recipes,” Talia said, but she beamed.

  And then somehow, it was eight o’clock, the end of their event. Melody told Mark to stop taking hot orders, though he could continue to serve from the bakery cases. Rachel and Melody cleaned themselves up and moved out into the main dining room. It was slightly emptier than before, and a few stragglers waited in line at the front counter. Melody scanned the room and saw Alex seated near the front, but Justin was nowhere to be seen.

  Rachel grabbed a water glass and tapped a spoon against it to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you all so much for coming to the opening of Bittersweet Café and Bakery. You’re all a part of getting us to where we are now, so thank you.”

  Applause broke out around the room, and Rachel waited until it died down. “This is a second chance for me. As most of you know, I had a rough stretch after what happened with my last restaurant. It’s been almost a year since I left as chef there, and at the time I thought it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.” She met Alex’s eyes and smiled. “I was wrong, of course, because it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Not least because, had I stayed, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to co-own my dream place with one of my very best friends, Melody Johansson.”

  More applause, a signal that it was Melody’s turn to speak. “Most of you know me mainly as a bread evangelist, pushing batards and baguettes at you with commands like ‘Eat this! You’ve never tasted anything like this!’” Laughter rang out in response. “It really is a dream come true to be able to open a bakery like this, to make all the things that I love to eat but can rarely find on this side of the city. I make all this stuff anyway, so now I just don’t have to eat it by myself. But I wouldn’t have wanted to do it without Rachel, who has been a great friend and mentor to me.”

  They hugged amid applause. Before they could thank their guests and say good night as planned, Alex stood from the table at the corner. “I’d like to say something if I could.”

  Rachel’s brow furrowed momentarily, but she smiled as he made his way toward her.

  “As some of you know, I was the inadvertent mastermind behind Rachel’s . . . ahem . . . change of direction.” More scattered laughter. “I couldn’t be happier for her. I know this is probably the biggest night of her life, and honestly, it’s a little intimidating as her boyfriend to try to top it. So I’m not going to.”

  Rachel now looked completely confused, but Melody’s heart picked up its beat.

  Alex took Rachel’s hand. “Rachel, I love you. I knew when I fell in love with you that I was not just committing to you, but also to your career and your restaurants . . . because yes, I know there will be more in the future. So it seems appropriate to ask you this tonight.” He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and knelt in front of her. “Will you marry me?”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. Her hand drifted to her throat, but she remained speechless.

  “Uh, Rachel? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

  “Yes! Of course yes!” Rachel laughed as he slid a ring onto her finger and then launched herself into his arms. The room erupted in applause when they kissed, hoots and catcalls coming from their friends.

  Tears pricked Melody’s eyes as she waited for her turn to hug the newly engaged couple. The larger part of her was thrilled. She squeezed Rachel tight and whispered the right words in her ear, then hugged Alex as well. And when her friends got caught up in the throng of congratulations, Melody slipped back into the kitchen.

  Rachel was getting married. Rachel, who had been wholly devoted to her work until she had it taken from her; Rachel, who was so skittish around men that she hadn’t had a real boyfriend until Alex.

  And despite the bubble of joy that welled up within Melody from knowing that her friend had found her soul mate, there was a spike of pain that went with it. No, not pain. Envy.

  She checked her cell phone, hoping that there was something from Justin, some reason for missing the biggest night of her life. Some explanation for the fact he hadn’t even bothered to call or text that he wasn’t going to make it.

  There was nothing.

  Melody shoved her phone into her pocket with an angry shake of her head and swallowed down the lump in her throat. She started the pre-ferments for tomorrow’s baking and then cleaned up her station. When Rachel, Sam, and Talia bounced back through the doors, their color high and voices excited, she managed to put on a neutral expression. “So, what do you guys think? I’d say that went pretty well.”

  “More than well. Look!” Rachel thrust her phone in front of Melody, showing the long list of tweets that had gone out about the restaurant from their friends and associates. A quick check showed even more on Instagram, and a couple of five-star reviews had already shown up on their online listings. Their friends had clearly embraced their new venture and were doing everything they could to announce it to the world. It would be a victory for anyone, but after Rachel had been eviscerated online through no real fault of her own, it felt like redemption.

  “Go home,” Melody finally told Rachel. “I’ll close up. I just want to finish a few things for tomorrow before I leave.”

  “Are you sure? I could stay . . .”

  Melody gave her a stern look. “You just got engaged. Go celebrate with your new fiancé. Stop by the store and get a wedding magazine or something.”

  Rachel laughed, glowing with happiness from the dual successes of the night. Melody managed to keep it together until Rachel packed up her things and left, and then the first tears fell.

  Alex had proposed to Rachel and the restaurant and her future dreams. She had someone to share her accomplishments with, and now her entire life. Up until now, Melody had held out hope that Justin could be that for her. But the fact that he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t even called or texted, told her that she’d been living in a fantasy world these past few months. She’d just been a way to pass time until he left. A way to stave off inevitable boredom until he got on with the next part of his life. And now that he was staying in Denver, he was rethinking the idea of her being part of it.

  Melody swiped away the tears, put the labeled pre-ferments into the walk-ins, and then started to close down the bakery. Double-checked the lock on the front door, switched off all but the security lights; threw on her sweatshirt, grabbed her handbag, locked the back door behind her. When she hopped into her Jeep, she forced any thoughts of Justin out of her mind in favor of a recap of their first night. Tomorrow was the soft opening of the bakery, three days of sales before their advertised grand opening on Saturday. It would no doubt take a while for word to spread that they were open and to regain Agni’s old customers, so that meant they could work out the kinks of their baking schedule without pressure.

  Mark at least was worth his weight in gold. She’d noticed him chatting up the customers with a megawatt smile, pulling shots at the espresso machine like a pro, keeping the line moving without making people feel like they were being rushed through. The front of the house had been her one true concern, but now it seemed like the least of them.

  It was her dream. And it was all coming true.

  She drove home with surprising calm and parked on the street, where she remained, her limbs heavy, her body drained of energy. Justin would probably chide her for sitting out here in the dark in this part of the city, but then again, he—and her mother—had always had a much worse impression of her neighborhood than was actually true. Or maybe Melody really did have an unrealistically rosy perspective on things. If she’d learned anything tonight, it was that her optimism wasn’t always proven out.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  BY THE TIME JUSTIN reached Denver’s city limits, he was wrung out and aching, the pit in the center of his stomach filled now with rocks. To say i
t had been hard getting home would be an understatement. He’d thought he would be fine when by some miracle he caught a flight out of Atlanta for Seattle, a city so far removed from the East Coast weather that it should have been relatively unaffected by the delays that were stalling air travel up and down the Eastern Seaboard.

  And then he’d sat at SeaTac for nearly an entire day, flight after flight to Denver filling up without any standby seats available. Finally, he’d managed to get on a flight to Colorado Springs, ninety minutes away from his house and even farther from where his car was parked at Denver International Airport. By this time of night, there were no public transportation options from the Springs, so instead he’d opted for an extremely expensive Uber ride. By the time he retrieved his car from DIA’s long-term parking, it was after 11 p.m.

  He’d missed Bittersweet’s opening.

  For the twentieth time, he pulled out his phone and then returned it to his pocket without sending a message or making a call. It was a terrible, immature thing to do, he knew, not letting her know what had happened. But at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contact Melody without spilling the news that had plagued him for the last twenty-four hours. And that was a discussion that deserved to be had in person.

  He should go home to shower and change before he saw Melody. His shirt was wrinkled, and the cuffs of his wool pants were still damp from last night’s downpour. He probably smelled like a wet dog. At best, he looked like the walking dead with dark circles from lack of sleep and stress and dread.

  Instead, he drove straight to her apartment, hoping she would be there. Hoping she would even let him through the door.

  Her Jeep was parked at the curb when he pulled up, and he parallel-parked behind her, then practically raced up the front walk. He held his breath as he pushed the buzzer and waited for her to answer. “Melody? It’s me. Can I come in?”

  She didn’t reply, but the panel buzzed and the front door lock disengaged. At least she wasn’t shutting him out completely. He slowly climbed the stairs, his anxiety now tempered.

  She opened the door as soon as he knocked. The first sight of her, her beautiful brown eyes red-rimmed and swollen, punched him in the gut. He stepped inside and reached for her. “Melody, I am so sorry.”

  She stepped out of his grasp and folded her arms over her chest. “This was the biggest night of my life, Justin. I watched for you. I thought for sure you were just running late, because you knew what this meant to me. And yet you didn’t show up.”

  He swallowed down his misery. “You have no idea how terrible I feel. I got stuck in Georgia overnight because of the tropical storm. I finally made it to Seattle and then my flight—”

  “So you’re saying you were completely without phone service that entire time?” She arched an eyebrow, her tone hard.

  He swallowed. “No, but—”

  “No buts, Justin. We’re not sixteen. You were having a hard time getting home. You think I wouldn’t understand that? You didn’t think that maybe I just wanted you to acknowledge what an accomplishment opening this bakery is? That maybe I wanted to celebrate with you, even if it had to be over the phone? What’s so hard about calling me and saying, ‘I’m stuck in Seattle, but I’m so proud of you’?”

  “I am proud of you, Melody. What you’ve accomplished is worth celebrating. And yes, I should have called. Up until the last minute, I thought I could make it. It just all went wrong.” He took her hand, and this time she didn’t pull away. Taking that as a sign she was softening toward him, he tugged her against him, enfolding her in his arms. “I never meant to hurt you. I did this completely wrong, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I just wanted so badly not to let you down.”

  She sighed, relaxing against him by degrees. “You did do it completely wrong. And I’m still mad at you.”

  “As well you have a right to be.” And she would be even angrier in a moment when she found out what he was holding back.

  Somehow, she must have heard that hesitation in his voice. “There’s more, isn’t there? What is it?”

  He let her go and rubbed his hands through his hair, his momentary relief replaced immediately with the lingering dread. “Melody, sit down. I need to tell you something.”

  She swallowed hard and pulled up a chair at her dining room table. The very table where they’d decided to go forward with their relationship despite his imminent departure, in fact. Justin took a chair beside her, but this time he didn’t take her hand.

  There was no use beating around the bush. “The other offer for the charter fell through. They couldn’t get their funding.”

  Melody stared at him, clearly not understanding what that meant.

  “The owner countered our original offer. Pete wants to take it.”

  “And what do you think?”

  He sighed. “Melody, if it were up to me, I would stay here with you. But I promised Pete and Jessica. We’ve already set up the corporation. I gave my notice at work today and started the process of rolling over my 401(k) for the down payment.”

  Melody shook her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How long have you known this was a possibility?”

  “I always knew it was a possibility, but I just found out for sure last night.” He summoned the courage to say what he should have said long ago. “I’ve been racking my brain for another solution, but I’m not sure what else to do. This is my family. We’re halfway down the road already. I can’t back out. Is there any chance you’d consider . . . Do you ever think you could be happy moving to Florida with me?”

  Melody stared at him, her expression stunned. “How could you ask me that? We just opened Bittersweet. It’s beautiful. It’s going to be a huge success. Which you would know if you’d bothered to show up.”

  “Mel—”

  She looked away, but not fast enough. He glimpsed the tears shining in her eyes. “You know, there was a time when I absolutely would have given everything up to go with you. When the possibility of a happily ever after would have me leaving behind everything that I have here.” She turned to him and drew in a shuddering breath. “But I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of living for the future and the slim possibility that everything’s going to work out.”

  “Melody, I never meant—”

  She held up her hand. “The worst part is, I thought this time was for real. I thought for once, maybe I really could have it all.” She laughed, and it transformed into a sob. “I actually believed this was my reward for hanging on, for trusting God to work it out. And if I’m being honest, I thought I could change your mind. That you’d see God really is working things for our good.”

  “For a little while, I started thinking the same thing.” He gripped handfuls of his hair in frustration, welcoming the sting in his scalp. “Do you know what this is like for me? No matter what choice I make, I let down someone important to me. Except in my sister’s case . . .”

  “. . . it’s her health on the line. I understand. I do. I would consider me to be the less important part of that equation too.” Her voice sounded dull, robotic, and that pierced him worse than her anger.

  “No. No!” He grabbed her hand. “You are not less important. If I could do something . . .”

  Melody pulled her hand from his. “We both knew this was only temporary. I had my eyes wide open when I walked in. Maybe our mistake was trying to make it last.”

  She swallowed and forced a smile. “I don’t bear you any ill will. Not even for missing the opening. It makes things easier somehow. One chapter of my life ending; a new one beginning. And you’re moving to Florida to begin your own chapter. You’ll meet someone else, and I’ll just be a memory. Hopefully a good one.”

  Justin cleared his throat around the lump forming there. “Is that really what you want?”

  “Of course it’s not what I want, but it’s what has to be.” She moved close enough to take his hand and then leaned over to press a brief kiss to his lips. “Good luck. I hope it al
l works out for you and Pete and Jessica.”

  He’d never believed it when people said they could feel their hearts breaking, and he was right. It wasn’t broken. It was pulverized. Nothing left but a hollow spot where his last shred of hope had resided. “I’m sure Bittersweet is going to be a resounding success. Good-bye, Melody.”

  She walked him to the door and then closed it behind him, the bolt clicking into the frame a moment later, locking him out. Of her apartment and her life. He thought he heard sobs from the other side of the door, but that could just be his own imagination, his own wishful thinking that the decision hadn’t been as easy as she’d made it seem.

  He turned and slowly walked down the hall, stunned at how quickly things had changed.

  It was over. His life in Denver. His relationship with Melody. All of it.

  * * *

  The day after he and Melody broke up, Justin woke early and began ticking off boxes on his checklist: the list of things that would dismantle his life in Denver. He gave his thirty-day notice to his landlord, even though he would be on the hook for an extra month’s rent. He put in a forwarding notice for his mail to go to the business address at the Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood Airport. He ordered a storage cube to be delivered to his apartment to hold all his things until he found a permanent residence in Florida—no need to bring all his furniture with him if he was living in an extended-stay motel for a while.

  And then there was his dad. Normally he would have to check Rich’s schedule, but since he’d retired, he was enjoying his ability to stay in pajamas for most of the day, reading the newspaper and catching up on the five years’ worth of television shows on his DVR.

  “Dad?” Justin pushed the front door open and poked his head in. Silence. It was after ten, so surely he was awake. Even in retirement, he rarely slept past 6 a.m.

  The smell of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen, so he was obviously up. Justin followed the aroma deeper into the house, saw his dad’s coffee cup and empty breakfast plate on the counter. And then his gaze traveled to the sliding-glass door looking out into the backyard, where his dad knelt in the dirt with a spade and a garden claw, pulling out the bindweed that had taken over the flower bed.

 

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