Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 11
“Well, buckle up then. This tale gets wild!”
Aurora’s phone buzzed in her purse.
A way to escape the conversation and catch her breath. “I better get this,” she said, pretending it was a call.
She made her way toward a sliding glass door and stepped outside onto her mother’s balcony. She pulled out her phone, half expecting a spam text.
The message was from Jude.
I feel weird about the way we left things when I took you home. Would you be able to meet up tonight? Just for a quick chat?
Aurora sighed.
She wasn’t happy with the way the day had ended either. With anyone else, she wouldn’t think twice about a quick chat, but with Jude, every encounter was loaded.
They’d left things estranged before, and it still bothered her. Better to be grown-ups about their situation and find some peace. Rather than text back, she called him. Texts couldn’t emote, and if they were going to make amends, emotions were going to be involved.
“Hey.” Jude answered on the first ring.
“Hey. Yeah, I didn’t like how things went either. I can meet you tonight.”
“Good. That’s…that’s good. Why don’t I come get you and we can grab a coffee or—”
“Okay.”
“I want us to have a chance to talk. Alone. Not that I don’t love my sisters, but—”
“Yeah, same. Alone is a good plan. Seven thirty okay with you?”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up then.”
Aurora stuffed her phone into her pocket. “It’ll be fine,” she tried convincing herself.
She peeked inside the glass door, watching her sisters talk animatedly with their mom. Lyle sat next to Anita, his hand on hers, smiling like he was having the time of his life.
Her mom seemed…happy. Not stressed.
She couldn’t remember the last time Anita had been jovial, even kind. And paid Aurora a compliment? It’d been years.
Not to say she was a bad mother. Far from it. But she’d spent her daughters’ formative years stretched thin with work and trying to deal with a man who refused to grow up and handle real responsibilities. It’d made their mom more hard than soft, more likely to push her daughters toward self-sufficiency and independence than to pull them in for a hug.
Seeing her mom this way was different. Nice. Perhaps Anita had finally found peace with someone who built her up instead of wearing her down. Aurora could only hope Lyle was the real deal. If her mother had found happiness in a healthy relationship, and Beth had found it with Sawyer, then maybe there was a chance such a thing still existed.
Chapter 12
Jude arrived at the Orchard Inn promptly at seven thirty. He went in the front door and found Aurora waiting in the main kitchen at the table with both of her sisters.
“Right on time as always.” Aurora immediately got to her feet.
She still looked like sunshine in distressed jeans, sandals, and a white blouse. Her hair was down, windblown and wild, and he fought not to smile at the sight of her.
“Hey, Jude.” Cece propped her chin in her hands.
“Hey.” The scent of fruit and basil caught his attention and he glanced down at the two flatbreads on the table in front of him. “What’s all this?”
“Aurora is trying something out.” Cece pointed to each one. “This one is fig, goat cheese, and prosciutto, and this one is apricot, goat cheese, and basil. Want to try?”
“Cece,” Aurora admonished.
“Of course I do.” Jude already had a slice of the apricot and basil flatbread halfway to his mouth.
The sweet burst of apricot eased into the creamy richness of the cheese, and then the clean bite of the basil. “Oh, wow,” he said, trying not to be rude as he chewed.
“So good, right?” Cece nodded.
It was amazing. “You made this?” he asked Aurora.
“Yeah. We should probably go.”
“She’s the best. And the figs and apricots came from our orchard.” Cece tooted Aurora’s horn for her. “And she got the basil from your farm and I got the cheese at the market. Can’t get any fresher than that. Try the fig.” Cece shoved a slice toward him.
“Where are y’all headed?” Beth asked as he chewed.
Jude shrugged, currently in tastebud heaven. He knew Aurora was talented, but the flatbread was out of this world.
“We’ll figure it out on the way.” Aurora grabbed her purse and started heading for the exit.
“Y’all are leaving right now?” Cece asked.
“Yeah,” Aurora called from the hall.
Jude shrugged again. He’d thought they might visit with her sisters for at least a millisecond, but apparently not. Aurora seemed laser-focused on getting down to their talk, and he couldn’t really argue. He considered a third slice for the road but decided against it. “Good seeing you both. Catch you later, I guess.” He waved on his way out.
He followed Aurora outside and then led her toward his truck. “Aurora, that food was…I’m impressed.”
“Thank you. I tend to cook a lot when I’m stressed.”
She was stressed, huh? “Do you want to just drive around a bit then?”
“I would love to. I need to get out and get some air.”
Jude popped a mint from the container in his cup holder and waited until they were in the truck and down the driveway before he asked, “Got a lot going on or just a lot on your mind?”
Aurora took a deep breath and gazed out the side window. “Both.”
He kept quiet, giving her room to say more if she wanted.
“And you know how it is with siblings,” she eventually added. “I love them, but everyone’s got an opinion, and their opinions tend to weigh in on your life choices.”
He chuckled. “Tell me about it.”
She laid her head back on the head rest, turning her face toward him. “Sometimes I just need a little space from all the…I don’t want to call it noise, but noise, in order to think.”
“Yeah, I get it.” He took a left and headed away from town. “I go for a lot of drives and errands, just to think. Keep my own counsel.”
Aurora chuckled, and the sound of it danced across his skin.
“We can drive around and just listen to some music if you want.”
She smiled, and he tried very hard to ignore how his body and soul reacted to making her happy. “That would be really nice. Thanks.”
Jude steadied himself and found a station playing easy listening. He was happy to have the time to let Bonnie’s news sink in and ponder how he’d been so blind. They drove around for a couple of songs without either of them saying a word. The sun hung lower in the sky, softening the light before a summertime late sunset.
He loved this time of day in the summer. Work was done, it wasn’t quite a million degrees outside anymore, and the birds came out to socialize before nightfall. It was as though the day itself relaxed, taking a deep breath and winding down before the dark.
His family would all be together right now, everyone taking it easy, entertaining Wyatt, probably watching or ignoring some singing contest on television. Meredith would be teasing their dad, playing name that tune. Her knowing the more modern ones, him knowing the oldies.
The thought made him smile.
“What are you smiling about over there?” Aurora asked.
Jude’s gaze glanced off hers. “Just thinking about my family and…”
Should he say anything to Aurora? Was Bonnie’s talk with him confidential or was being secretive an insult?
He was, once again, oblivious about what to do.
He settled on, “Bonnie and I had a talk yesterday—about her personal life. I was just thinking about it.”
Aurora turned her face toward him. “What about her personal life?”
“Um…” he hesitated. “I’m not really sure I can say.”
She shifted, so her body faced him too. “Was it, maybe, about her love life?”
“Yep.”
She nodded, making a noise of affirmation. “About her and…?” Aurora let the question hang.
Jude glanced toward her, and immediately he knew she knew. The smile on her face, the recognition in her eyes.
He looked back to the road and again at her. “How did you know?”
“I mean, it’s not hard to see how they feel about each other. If you pay attention.”
He shook his head. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. But I’m glad she told me. I’m happy for her. For both of them.”
“Has she told your parents?”
Jude scowled. He had no idea.
“Oh, Jude.” Aurora giggled.
“What?”
“You didn’t even ask her if your folks knew, did you?”
“I didn’t think to ask!”
She patted his arm, humor crinkling the corners of her eyes as sparks fired beneath his skin. “Some things never change.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying, when you get home, maybe ask Bonnie if she’s talked to your folks and Jenna.”
He nodded, making a mental note. “Jenna knows. And I hugged her and told her I supported her. You think that was good? Was that enough?”
Aurora smiled softly. “I think that’s perfect.”
Her expression did something to his chest. Something painful, but pleasurable. It’d been too long since he’d seen that look on that face.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “You’re a good guy, Jude.”
He tried to focus on the road, but his mind hummed.
“You want to settle somewhere? Or maybe get out and walk?” he asked.
“Let’s walk,” she quickly answered.
He headed west, in the general direction of some of the area’s best parks and walking trails.
“Well.” Aurora sighed. “Your sisters probably adore you right now. Meanwhile, mine are stewing in silence because I don’t want to stay and work at the Orchard Inn forever,” Aurora blurted. “They’re supportive of me, but also a little mad and sad because I have to go back to L.A.”
“But you just came back to help out while things were rocky, right? They knew you’d go back eventually.”
“Exactly.”
“And now things are good at the inn.”
She nodded. “And they understand all of that, deep down. They always knew my time here was temporary, but we’ve had a lot of fun while I’ve been back, and we work surprisingly well together. I think they secretly held out a little hope I might change my mind and stay in town longer, if not indefinitely.”
He couldn’t blame her sisters. After only a couple of encounters, he found himself wishing Aurora would be around at least a little longer.
“They aren’t mad at me or anything, but there’s some tender feelings for sure.”
Jude glanced toward her, trying to read her expression.
She shrugged one shoulder and kept talking. “I guess they think the hospitality lifestyle out there isn’t good for me? The long hours, the grind to get to the top. I get it. Climbing the culinary ladder can be pretty cutthroat in a big city. It’s just different from laidback Fredericksburg, you know?”
No, he didn’t know. He’d never lived in a big city, but he could imagine.
“When do you think you’ll go back?” he asked instead.
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Aurora let her hands flop, open palmed, in her lap. “I’m waiting to hear from the manager on a new opportunity. In that case, I’d probably leave next week or early the week after.”
“And if the new opportunity doesn’t pan out?” he asked, earning himself her side-eye. “Not that it won’t,” he quickly added.
“If I get passed up for this new restaurant, then I—” Aurora bit at her lip, and stared out the side window. “I don’t know what I’ll do. Go back to what I was already doing, I guess.”
“Not thrilled about that second option, huh?”
She glanced his way with a smirk. “That obvious?”
“Very.”
“I have to go back though. Regardless. My life is there, my stuff, my roommate.”
She had a life, stuff, and roommates here in Texas, too, but he kept that observation to himself.
“It’s just…I can’t think that way right now, you know? I might’ve hurt my chances by taking this leave and coming here, but to be fair, I’ve worked at that restaurant for years. No one works one place for years in L.A. I’ve earned the chance to head up a new place, even after taking some family leave.”
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me,” Jude insisted. “They’d be lucky to have you be their chef. They’re idiots if they go with someone else. You could outcook everyone in town—don’t tell my mom—when you were seventeen. Doesn’t take a genius to figure you’re three times as good now.”
“Try ten times.” She smiled.
“So, see?” He returned her smile. “Idiots if they don’t hire you.”
Her smile softened, and their gaze held. “Thank you for saying so. I guess I’m…I’m just at a crossroad with my career, and I’m ready to move forward.”
Jude pulled his gaze away. “Yeah, I know.”
“Thank you for listening. I don’t mean to unload on you,” she said.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind at all.”
This was a huge improvement from their first interaction. He wanted them to be able to talk. They should be able to talk.
“I’m sorry for the other day.” Aurora shifted in her seat to face him. “I know I freaked out when you apologized and then I jumped out of the car, but there’s a lot of”—she motioned between them—“stuff here and I just, I didn’t know how to react in that moment.”
“I know.” He nodded. “And it’s okay. Ours is a very”—Jude chuckled—“particular kind of situation. I think it’s okay if we don’t know exactly how to proceed now, ten years later. But I would like for us to be friends, if possible.”
Aurora studied him, her eyes scanning his face intently. “I’d like that too,” she finally said.
“Good.” He nodded, his heart doing backflips in his chest.
They had a ways to go, as far as friendships went, but this was a start.
He’d had Armstrong Park in mind, as a spot for them to get out and walk, but as they followed the winding road, they passed an old favorite of theirs from high school. McGregor’s lake.
Aurora chuckled as they went by.
“You remember?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do we dare?” Jude laughed too.
“I am not going swimming.”
His laughter grew. “I don’t mean swimming. I’m talking about the path around the lake. We can just walk and sit. Watch the sun go down.”
“And trespass?”
“It’s not trespassing when you’re friends with the owner.”
“You’re friends with Old Man McGregor now?”
“He’s not that old, and yes. He buys from the farm all the time now, and us from him. I can text him and let him know we’re here. He’s mellowed over the years, and I’m pretty sure kids come here regularly now, without all the sneaking and drama we had.”
“Aw, the drama was half the fun.”
He thought back to the time the two of them got chased off from an afternoon swim by the sound of McGregor’s loud truck, barreling toward the pond. Jude had never seen proof firsthand, but rumor was, if he caught you swimming, McGregor would shoot. Turned out, that was all fable, and likely just his angry truck backfiring, but it made for good rumor mill fodder.
Jude turned around in the middle of the country road and went back to the driveway.
Old Man McGregor, whose real name was Tom McGregor, was in his late sixties or early seventies, far from being an old man when they were in high school, and a very generous gentleman.
Jude reached the lake, parked, and sent him a quick text.
All he received in response was a thumbs-up.
“Okay, we’re good to walk around,” he told Aurora.
They got out and headed down a worn path. Wildflowers and grasses covered acres of fields on either side of the dirt path. Trees rose on the other side of the lake, as the path started its slow decline.
A small dock stood on the swimming side of the lake. Well, calling it a lake had always seemed generous. Large pond was more like it. On the opposite side, tall grasses and cattails dotted the lake’s perimeter. It wasn’t unusual to catch a heron cruising in for a landing.
“Can you believe we used to sneak onto this poor man’s property? We were awful.” Aurora fell into step beside him.
“We weren’t so bad. We were kids. Aren’t most teenagers a little selfish and stupid?”
“True.”
They kept walking and reached the edge of the lake. “Let’s go this way.” He led her to the right, following the path that’d been worn around the edge.
“I was, um.” He cleared his throat. “I was hoping we could talk. Like, talk talk.”
Aurora nodded as she matched his pace. “Talk about the past.”
“Yeah.”
“I think we should,” she said. “I don’t want to not talk about it. We’re both adults and, seeing you again, like this, I think it’s…”
“It’s time.” He stopped walking and faced her. The sun sat even lower now, and in this golden hour Aurora glowed, her reddish-blond hair wavy, falling to her shoulders, angelic.
“I want you to know that I did love you,” he said, and the hurt in her eyes broke his heart. “I don’t know that you knew that, back then. I’m not sure I made it clear, and that’s on me. But you can love someone and things still not—”
“Work out.”
“We were in love, and then it was just—”
“Over,” she finished the sentence for him.
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “And I know I was the one who ended it. I broke up with you, but I didn’t handle it right. We’d started having problems and rather than deal with them and take the time to sort things out, I got out. I was hardheaded and selfish, and I didn’t think about your feelings. I thought I couldn’t handle us and everything else on my plate. I was stinking up the mound in baseball, and my dad was riding my tail about that.”
