Both had been distant with Leigh and Deana, darting just brief looks of recognition at the outset.
Nothing more.
Unlike Leigh’s own nightmares over Charlie’s funeral…
After eighteen years, memories of his death still lingered.
Leigh dismissed her gloomy thoughts and looked over at Deana. She gave a contented sigh. It was good, sitting here in the candlelight, chatting, eating nice food.
Not wanting to spoil tonight for either of them, she made a determined effort to lighten up, recalling another event.
One that had happened only that day.
A vivid reminder of the past.
“Cherry. Cherry Dornay!”
The red-haired girl looked up.
“Leigh West. As I live and breathe.”
“How’re things, Cherry? And,” Leigh paused, “how’s Ben?”
“Oh, Ben’s okay. Never married, of course.”
There was an awkward silence. The red-haired girl moved on, hastily. “And you? I recall you were set on owning your own restaurant all those years ago.”
“Yeah. I was. And I did.”
“Huh? You mean…all
Leigh gave a pleased smile, and Cherry said, “Wow!”
They chatted.
About this and that.
The old days.
How things had changed. Cherry taught art now, and was living in the San Fernando Valley. Ben was in IT—and still in San Diego.
They laughed a lot, reminiscing together. Yet Leigh still felt an awkwardness, a barrier that time had placed between them. She smiled at Cherry, remembering the seventies. San Diego. Lazy days on Mission Beach; meeting up with the crowd at Pepe’s Place on J Street. That trip to Tijuana when Ben had lost his precious guitar…
So
A lot of water had gone under quite a few bridges.
She thought of Ben. Strong, gentle; fair curly hair, worn shoulder length, hippie style. And the beard. Don’t forget the beard!
Yeah. Ben had been quite a guy.
Leigh and Cherry exchanged telephone numbers.
Promising to keep in touch.
“Mom. The door. I’ll get it.”
Deana left the table and went into the hallway.
“Wait, honey. Don’t open up yet.”
Deana looked through the spyhole.
Mace.
“Well?” Leigh asked.
“It’s Mace.” Deana pouted. Ordinarily, she would have been a little excited. Tonight she was disappointed. She’d had Leigh all to herself—and they’d been sharing some rare intimate moments.
Precious mom-and-daughter time.
Till around thirty seconds ago.
Leigh opened the door.
“Why, Mace!” Her head lifted. She laughed, raking a hand through her hair. “This
“Yeah,” Deana muttered. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Stepping inside, Mace threw her a beamer, not missing a beat.
He fished around in his pocket and came up with a palmful of sunflower seeds. He tossed them into his mouth, watching her all the time. His jaws worked around the seeds.
Deana frowned back.
Still grinning, his lips peeled back, showing her his rows of straight white teeth.
But his eyes stayed cool. Alert.
He turned to Leigh.
“Dropped by to say we backed your hunch that Nelson maybe
Mace and Leigh sauntered off into the living room.
Deana followed, suddenly feeling left out.
Looked like Mom and Mace were already an item.
Okay. Maybe Mom
But
She pictured Mom and Mace making mad, passionate love. His mouth on hers. Running his hands over her naked body…Mom panting a little, pushing him into her…
Deana squirmed at the thought.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Mace said, eyeing the table. “Were you two having dinner? I’ll be on my way. Have to catch up with Mattie, anyhow. This time of night and she’s
“Thought you and she were history. Like, you’re no longer partners?”
“Right. Mattie got a little bored in the car all day. Cramped her style, she said. Got herself an office job instead.” Mace huffed out a harsh little laugh.
Looking at him, Deana got the feeling there was probably more to Mace and Mattie than met the eye.
Maybe they
“Deana,” Leigh put in. “How about some coffee?”
“This is my first day back at the restaurant,” Leigh was telling Mace.
“That so? Sure you’re up to it?”