“I wonder if you might humour me, when things slow up a bit here.” His gaze is steady and sincere, twin lasers annihilating my defenses.
“What do you want?”
“I told you.” His eyes darken. “You can’t have forgotten that I came by to apologize.”
“But you did already.”
“No. I started. That was just the preamble.” He eyes me again. “I want to do it right, Sylvia, and I respect that it might not make any difference, but I’ve owed you this apology for a long time and it needs to be delivered.”
He did say he wanted to talk later.
I figure I can hold fast for a couple of sentences, and I would prefer to hear them when there’s no one else around. Sierra is already heading for the back door to be home with Una. I ask the question before giving myself time to reconsider. “What does your wife think of that plan?”
He smiles. “No wife, Sylvia. No girlfriend or significant other.” He sobers and looks a bit bleak. “Just tomatoes. So very many tomatoes.”
I can’t help but laugh at him and he grins at me, his eyes glowing. “Okay,” I say on impulse, as if that’s never gotten me into trouble.
Mike looks triumphant, like I’ve given him the keys to the kingdom. “Good,” he says. “Thank you, Sylvia.”
“You’d better eat while it’s hot,” I say, then head back to the kitchen.
Gah. When did I start sounding like Una?
I havea lot of expectations and am filled with assumptions. I could make a list of what I’m expecting Mike to say and do, and I compose my frosty replies to each and every possibility while we finish out the dinner service.
You can probably guess that he takes me completely by surprise.
But first, he has dessert, and Merrie takes it to him. She likes to do this when things slow down, says it’s a good practice to get out and talk to her customers. That she chooses to talk to Mike feels like a betrayal, but I smile on through it, even when she lingers to chat with him. He’s clearly complimenting her and she’s loving it.
I know because she takes him a Calvados in a warmed glass to enjoy with his dessert.
I give her a look and she shrugs. “He ordered a brandy. I told him this would be better. Like every wise man on the planet, he took my advice.” She gives a little sigh, one that sets my nerves on edge. “He knew I usedcrème fraichein the potato gratin. He even guessed where I got it.”
This is high praise from Merrie, who favours a perceptive eater over any other kind. I slant a glance at her, guessing there’s more.
I’m right.
“Andhe told me of another small dairy locally, one I didn’t know about. They have goats, which means localchèvre, which is giving me palpitations.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “Careful. I feel my resistance eroding fast.”
Then she sails off with the apple brandy.
It’s not fair. He can’t be nice to my friend and win her over without me.
That sounds so stupid that I can’t believe I even thought it.I go rinse plates for the dishwasher, once again more annoyed with myself than Mike. I have zero desire to be eighteen and gullible but it would be nice to be hopeful again. To feel alive. To feel attractive, like a person in my own right. Even one slow smile from Mike makes me feel all that again, which is what makes him dangerous.
I have definitely been on my own for too long and should fix that soon.
Meanwhile, I try to brace myself for whatever he’s going to say or do.
By the time Mike finishes his meal, the place is almost empty. I like this time of the evening. The café is warm and smells like good food as well as the fire. I extinguish some of the candles on empty tables, letting it get darker. Outside, Queen Street is quiet, too, few cars visible and even fewer pedestrians. I feel the soles of my feet and my lower back at this point of the day, and am glad that we don’t have any call for late meals here. I’ll be home with my feet up before nine, which is a glorious thing.
But first, Mike.
Might as well get this apology over with.
I take off my apron as I head toward his table and he glances up, then puts away his phone. He’s standing by the time I get close, looming over me like always. He looks a bit nervous, which makes me want to console him.
Instead, I fold my arms across my chest and wait.
