“Because you never want to meet up for coffee before work. That means this has to be something big,” Holly said.
“And big automatically means bad?”
She nodded; her eyes wide. “Generally speaking, yes. When was the last time you had big news to share with me that was good?”
I cocked my head to the side and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “When was the last time I had big news to share with you that was bad?”
She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then closed it again. “I’m not sure actually.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. You’ve been watching the disaster shows again, haven’t you? I thought we talked about that.”
“There wasn’t anything else on,” she argued.
“Anyway, this news isn’t bad at all. Actually, it’s really good. I’m leaving the restaurant in a few weeks.”
Her eyes widened even more, and I worried they were on the brink of getting stuck that way.
“You’re leaving?” she asked. “What happened?”
“I just said it was a good thing, Holly,” I said.
“I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.”
“I was recruited by Derek King to help him at the new restaurant at his family’s vineyard,” I said.
I was expecting my announcement to get more of a reaction than my best friend just sitting and staring at me from across the table. And yet, here we were. Staring in silence.
“What?” she finally asked.
“Derek King,” I said. “You know him. He comes into the restaurant sometimes, and he was part of that guest chef series with the tasting menus last summer.”
“Yeah, I remember him. The ‘what’ was directed at his new restaurant and his family’s vineyard.”
“He and his brothers inherited a vineyard from their grandparents, and they want to turn it into a major destination. Which, of course, means a restaurant. He’s revamping the entire thing, and he recruited me to be his sous chef. His real sous chef, Holly. Not some line cook. Not a prep cook. He wants me to help him build the menu and everything,” I said.
“That’s amazing,” Holly said, finally seeming to catch the excitement train.
“I know. It’s going to be incredible. We already have some awesome ideas. I can’t wait to get started.” I waited for her to say something else, but she was just nodding, still staring at me. “What is it?”
“Oh,” she said, straightening up slightly as if she didn’t realize I could see the way she was looking at me. “It’s just … you were really happy when you got the position at the restaurant.”
“I know.”
“And it’s a steady, sturdy place. It’s not going anywhere.”
“I know,” I said.
“So … aren’t you at all worried about leaving an established restaurant to start up a new one you have no idea will succeed or not?”
“Wow,” I said flatly. “Way to rain on my parade, Holly.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I’m excited for you. Really. Yay!” She waved her hands up in the air to show her enthusiasm.
“I’m sure you know what you’re doing and that it’s going to be great.”
I smiled. “It will be. Now, let’s get some coffee and enjoy a few more minutes before we get to work. I’ve already heard the reservations for tonight are going to be hell.”
3
Noah
It was the end of the week, and I was damn tired already but looking forward to finishing the bulk of the stressful work at the vineyard. Planning to work through the weekend meant less time where I was at that moment, sitting on my deck, sipping coffee, but that was okay. While there was peace in that moment, there was also pain. Sometimes it was better to be busy.
I loved my house out in the deep part of the woods. It was gorgeous and quiet. Deer frequently wandered through my backyard at all times of the day. I owned a fair amount of property, and they instinctively knew they were safe from being hunted there. I could no more shoot one than I could saw my own arm off. They kept me company and reminded me of beauty in the world at times I had a hard time seeing it.
A doe poked her head through the tree line in the distance, and I caught a glimpse of her. Instinctually, I turned to the chair beside me, ready to tell my wife to look. It was like a cold knife ran through my heart. She had been gone for two years now, and I still wasn’t used to it. My brothers said it was because I hadn’t changed anything since she’d died.
I kept the house the same as she left it. The pictures on the walls were last touched by her. The blanket lying over her rocking chair in the living room was hers. The chair beside me on the porch had a table beside it, and a ceramic coaster still sat on it. The stains of her last cup of coffee had long been washed away by rain, but I couldn’t bring myself to move it.