Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 10
Bonnie’s response was quiet too. “I tried. But I don’t think he understood.”
Jude stood up from his stool. “Understood what? What am I missing here?”
His sisters shared a silent look. He was clearly out of the loop.
“Bonnie and Meredith,” Jenna eventually answered, “are dating.”
Bonnie took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing like a thousand pounds had been lifted from them.
Jude stood there, the coin dropping in slow motion—probably too slow, but thinking about his sister’s romantic life wasn’t something he ever did.
“Oh.” He thought back on all the times he’d been around Bonnie and Meredith. How they did seem closer than friends, even closer than sisters. If he really thought about it, their connection was different than two buddies.
Deeper.
He’d seen the way they looked at each other, how familiar it seemed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Now he realized where he’d seen those kinds of gazes.
It was how Jenna looked at her husband, Max, how he caught himself looking at Aurora.
“Oh.” Jude said again.
He was an idiot. A stone-cold doofus, so wrapped up in work, himself, and the weird new developments in his personal life that he didn’t recognize the obvious.
“Well…I…why didn’t you tell me I was being dense sooner?” He grinned.
He liked Meredith. She was good people, and for him, that was all that mattered.
“We thought you knew you were oblivious.” Jenna smirked.
Jude circled the herb garden. “No, I didn’t. I’m oblivious to being oblivious. Come here.” He reached for Bonnie and embraced her, smooshing her face into his chest in a bear hug.
He held her tight and didn’t let go. “Hey. I’m happy for you. I’m sorry I didn’t know, but I’m glad you told me.” The hug drew out, but she clung to him, and he knew it wasn’t time to let go. He pulled back enough to meet her gaze. “You know I love you, right?”
Bonnie nodded, her eyes misty.
“And I support you. In everything.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “Family is everything.”
“You’re a big softie.” She smiled.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
They separated and Bonnie swiped at her eyes. “What about you though?”
“What about me?”
Both of his sisters stared.
“What about your love life?” Bonnie asked. “Or lack of one.”
Jude cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re not in high school anymore,” she said. “You’re a grown man and all you do is work and hang out with us.”
He waved them off and picked at the mint. “I don’t have time for all that. Besides, there’s not really anyone who interests me.”
A shrill laugh popped out of Bonnie’s mouth. “Sure. Totes. I mean, definitely not the old love of your life who came by yesterday. She definitely doesn’t interest you.”
“Definitely.” Jenna nodded.
“I don’t even know if you can call us friends at this point, so don’t go barking up that tree. That tree fell in the woods, years ago. And, she doesn’t live here, in case you forgot. She’ll probably be gone soon, hundreds of miles away.”
“I don’t know. I sense something there,” Jenna insisted. “Bonnie?”
“Me too.”
“Maybe what y’all sense is two people being polite after many years apart, and a history together.” Even though she had run off when he tried to apologize. Not sure that counted as polite.
Bonnie crossed her arms, overly pensive to make a point. “Mmmm, no. That ain’t it.”
“The two of you have chemistry.” Jenna began gathering their snippers, deciding they were done gardening without asking for input. “You always have, and I think it’s still there.”
He shook his head and tried to deny it, but contrary to the way things had ended yesterday, he and Aurora had gotten along the rest of the time. They’d laughed, reminisced. She didn’t seem to hate him, and he certainly had no ill will toward her. Maybe some hurt feelings, a little raw nerve, but he cared about Aurora. He always would.
He’d like for them to at least be able to talk about the past and be friendly, but spending time together was like navigating a minefield. All they knew of each other, and the hurts of their past, dotted the landscape, easily tripped and ready to blow up in their faces.
“I mean, sure, you blew it in high school, but you’re older and wiser now.” Bonnie smiled like she’d given him the greatest of compliments.
“If you want a second chance, this is your shot,” Jenna added.
“First of all, I didn’t blow it. I was immature and hasty, but—”
“You blew it,” his sisters both insisted.
Jude tossed up his hands in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not gunning for another shot.”
His sisters looked at him, expressionless.
“Though it would be nice, and probably healthy, to have a normal, functional friendship with her, at least for the remaining time she’s here.” And to have some sense of peace when it came to Aurora Shipley. Something he hadn’t had for a decade.
“The two of you get along too well not to at least be friends,” Jenna agreed. “So, I guess friends is better than nothing.”
There was a time when even offering his friendship felt like going out on too shaky a limb. She would’ve had every reason to wish to go the rest of her life and never see him again.
Yesterday gave him hope.
He wouldn’t go so far as to hope they could ever be more than friends. Even if he did, putting himself out there, wanting something from her, needing her—only to be left behind again—he couldn’t do it.
Yes, he’d hurt her before, but she’d hurt him too.
When she left after their breakup, never returning and never responding to him, he’d felt…unforgivable. Like the worst, rottenest creature in the world.
No, they didn’t need to stay together and cost each other their dreams, their futures, but that didn’t mean they had to act like the other person didn’t exist. Like what they had together never meant anything.
Then again, maybe he’d deserved it. Looking back at his teenage self, he didn’t know what to think. They’d both hurt each other, and he wouldn’t let that happen again. If that meant only ever being friends, then friends was all they’d ever be.
Chapter 11
Why do you think Mom invited us over?” Beth put her SUV in park and turned to them.
“She probably just misses us,” Cece reasoned. “She’s been gone on that long cruise and we haven’t really hung out since right when Aurora came back.”
“Mmm, I think there’s another reason behind it.” Aurora opened the passenger-side door and got out, another lavender-honey pie in her hands. She’d figured she might as well make use of the opportunity to practice her new recipe.
“Agreed.” Beth hit the remote lock on her key ring. “She never wants to just hang out with all of us.”
“Sometimes she does,” Cece argued.
“With you maybe, but not us, and never all three of us together.” From the time Anita Shipley moved out of the house in order to make it an inn, Aurora had never once hung out with her alone.
“Yeah, something must be up,” Beth agreed.
“Y’all are so suspicious, and judgy. Lighten up.”
“I’m not judging her for it,” Aurora argued. “I’m stating facts. This is outside the norm. I think it’s normal to wonder why, and why now.”
While Cece sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, Beth led the way up to their mother’s second-floor apartment.
After a gentle knock, Anita appeared at the door, with a tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man standing in the foyer behind her.
“See? Told you,” Aurora muttered.
“Girls! Come in, come in.”
Cece elbowed Aurora on the way inside.
They crowded into the foyer, each of them hugging their mom.
“You baked? Aurora, you shouldn’t have. But this looks divine. And it smells so good.”
Their mother’s perfume fought with the pie, the weighty gardenia scent filling the apartment.
Anita had always worn the same perfume, the smell of it taking Aurora back in time. She was instantly a child again, curious about the stereotypical things that made her mother a woman. She wanted to play with the makeup, dabble in her perfume. Her mother had fussed, refusing to let her play or teach her how to apply any of it.
Beth had been the one to eventually teach Aurora about makeup, shaving, and menstrual cycles.
As a result of her mother’s hands-off approach, Aurora had swung to the other end of the cosmetics spectrum, refusing to wear much makeup or perfume in high school. She was a college graduate before she ever owned more than mascara and lip gloss.
“Girls, I want you to meet Lyle. Lyle, this is Beth, Aurora, and Cece.”
Lyle gave them all a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Aurora felt like she’d been kneecapped with a baseball bat. Who in the heck was Lyle?
“Must be nice,” she muttered, and Cece elbowed her again.
“And this is Lyle. My boyfriend.”
Boyfriend?
Aurora blinked.
Whatever happened to “all men are liars”? Swearing she’d never be in another relationship after their dad ran out?
What happened to “all you need are your sisters and girlfriends because they won’t betray you”?
“Wow.” Beth was the first to speak. “That’s…great.”
Their mom and Lyle smiled, waiting for more of a reaction.
“Yeah. Great,” Aurora managed.
“We went on the cruise together,” their mom added, “and decided to make it official while we were gone.”
They all stood there for a moment, staring at one another. Their mom had gone away for almost two weeks, with a man, and they’d had no clue. Their complete lack of insight into their mom’s new life shouldn’t surprise Aurora, but it did.
“How did you meet?” Cece tried to fill the gaping silence.
“Here, let me take that.” Lyle held out his hands for Aurora’s pie. “And we can all sit down in the living room.”
Numbly, Aurora gave him the pie and followed her sisters into the living room. They sat, lined up on the sofa, with their mom and Lyle on a smaller love seat.
Lyle settled his tall frame, his hands open, palms on his knees, and he rubbed them back and forth. “So…how I met your mom…”
He was nervous and hiding it poorly.
The knowledge made Aurora feel a bit better. She didn’t want to be the only anxious person in the room.
“I was doing some work for your mom’s friend Loretta.”
“She had a new deck put in,” Anita added.
“And your mom came over to see it. We got to talking and hit it off, so I asked her for her phone number.”
“So I gave it to him.” Anita laughed.
She gave it to him.
After years of bitterness and swearing off love, her mother just…gave some guy her number?
“We just went out for coffee at first,” Lyle continued. “Then lunch, eventually dinner, and before you know it, we were dating.”
“How long have you been dating?” Cece asked.
“Four months now,” he answered. “Since I got her number.”
Aurora sat there, blinking, and tried to digest this information.
For so long, all she’d heard from her mother about dating and men and relationships was that she shouldn’t date. Disillusionment, disappointment, and distrust. All men were just like their father. They’d lie to suit themselves and walk out when the going got tough.
Then she’d met Jude and he was nothing like her mother’s claims.
He was caring, supportive, and honest. He’d been a wonderful boyfriend, right up until his loyalties were really tested, and he’d failed at being able to have a relationship and balance it with the other priorities in his life.
She hadn’t had the experience to recognize or label all the problems at the time, but Jude needed to be all things to all people, and there simply wasn’t enough of him to go around.
When the chips were down, and it was Aurora and a future together or his dad’s approval and the farm, Jude had chosen the latter.
So, while Jude wasn’t a liar, he hadn’t exactly been loyal to her either. After their breakup, Aurora figured her mother was probably right, in general if not in every way.
Aurora had given up on finding love and someone to have forever and made do with finding someone for the moment. She dated a lot, never anything too serious and never for too long. Rarely intimate, and she never let anyone too close—she was happy filling her time with the distraction. Her career was demanding enough; she didn’t have time for a real boyfriend.
Come to think of it, only one person had ever carried that official title.
“Aurora?” Beth looked at her, both eyebrows raised.
“What?”
“Lyle asked you a question.”
“Oh. Sorry, what was that?”
“Your mom tells me you live in Los Angeles and you’re a chef out there?”
“Yes.” She didn’t know what else to add.
“Are you planning to head back that way eventually or—?”
“She’s going back soon. Aren’t you, honey? She’s made quite the name for herself out there. Tell him.”
Made quite the name for herself? Since when did her mother keep up with her career, much less brag about her?
Had she slipped into some kind of alternate universe? Had her mother been body snatched?
“I’m, um. I’m the sous for—” Like this man would know a thing about the names of chefs and restaurant groups? “I’m assistant chef for a very popular restaurant in Los Angeles.”
“Have you ever met any famous people?” Lyle’s wide-eyed earnest gaze was endearing.
There didn’t seem to be any guile or smarminess to him. He kept sharing warm looks with their mom, attentive to everything Aurora said. Perhaps he was a decent guy. Maybe her mom had changed her tune entirely because she’d met someone decent.
Stranger things had happened.
“I’ve seen a few famous people come into the restaurant. Not regularly or anything.” Working in hospitality on Sunset though, it was inevitable to hear about some famous so-and-so in the dining room, as the waitstaff gossiped during and after shift.
Aurora rarely got to see anything other than the serving line.
“You’ll probably be head chef soon.” Lyle looked at her expectantly.
Aurora laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Aurora,” her mom insisted. “You’re always so hard on yourself. You’ve been with them a long time. They obviously see your value if they let you leave to help out at the Orchard Inn and then come back.”
This was true. Look at her mom, talking sense instead of judging and second-guessing Aurora.
Maybe this Lyle guy was a good influence.
“Probably, but the head chef where I am now is very happy. I won’t be replacing him any time soon.”
She debated sharing her news, especially here of all places, but the eager enthusiasm from her mother was a refreshing change, and addictive. “I could be offered a role in a new restaurant in Malibu though.”
Her sisters shared a quick glance at each other, then at her.
“That’s great, honey!” Her mom beamed.
Aurora’s heart clenched. Where had this approval been for the last fifteen years?
“I have to go back soon. Obviously. Just waiting to talk to my boss.”
“When did this happen?” Beth’s tone was more than a little accusatory, and Cece cut her eyes over at their sister.
Aurora girded her loins. “Recently.”
“Why haven’t you told us?”
“I just did. Besides, we knew this was coming.”
Beth’s stare was more than a smidge accusatory. “Then you’re leaving really soon.”
Aurora opened her mouth to respond, but Cece placed a hand on Beth’s arm. “I think what Beth means is, first, congratulations, and we’re going to miss you. Right, Beth?”
Cece stepped right into Aurora’s peace-keeping role without missing a beat.
“Right,” she managed to bite off the word.
“Head chef?” her mother encouraged. “That’s an amazing opportunity.”
Aurora fidgeted with the couch cushion, unable to fully process her mother’s support. “It is. I love working at the inn, and being with family, but…”
“But?”
“I’m ready for the next step. Something of my own. And an opportunity in Malibu would be amazing and so generous.”
“I know.” Beth placed her hands in her lap and stared at them. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“We’ve loved having you here,” Cece blurted. “We love you being here and we really don’t want you to leave.”
“Cece.” Beth jerked her head up.
“Well? It’s true. We don’t. You and I have talked about it.”
Beth rolled her eyes with a sigh.
“You guys have talked about this behind my back? About not wanting me to go?”
“Of course we have.” Cece looked at her like she was dense. “We’re your sisters.”
“We’re proud of you.” Beth smiled. “But we don’t want some restaurant group to have you. Selfishly, we like having you right here.”
Aurora’s heart clenched again. She knew her sisters loved her, but they weren’t a family that often talked about their feelings for one another. In action, she was often reminded, but it was still nice to hear.
“That means a lot,” she admitted. “And we can talk about this more later. I’m sure Lyle wants to hear about more than just my job drama.”
“There’s so much I’d like to hear,” he said. “Anita talks about y’all all the time. I feel like I already kind of know you. I want to hear the story about the last runaway bride y’all had.”
“Oh my gosh.” Cece slapped her hands together. “You heard about that?”
Anita laughed. “I didn’t get into all the details, so you’ll have to tell it.”
