Page 76 of Grounded
The waiter removed their salad plates and set down pasta alla carbonara for Jake and pasta primavera for Annie.
“They make the pasta here,” Jake said. “I wanted you to see this to catch a vision of what Bill’s Diner could be like.”
“Is Bill going Italian?” Annie asked.
“Not Italian, but we’re talking about changing it into a farm-to-table breakfast and lunch spot. It would be a great way to showcase the local foods. We just need to recruit a chef who has the same vision.” He turned his fork until he had several strands of pasta wrapped around it, then lifted it to his mouth.
Annie dropped her fork and sat back against the leather. “Does Bill have a say in this?” she asked, feeling heat rush to her face.
Jake frowned and then slowly, he began to grin.
“What?” Annie said, feeling the anger dissipate as fast as it boiled up.
“I forgot to tell you that detail. It was his idea to sell.”
“Why?
“Viola,” he said.
“The Alzheimer’s,” Annie said, understanding now.
“He approached me when he heard I was plugged into the local food stuff. He wants it to stay a restaurant. It’s been the heartbeat of town for so long. We’d all like to keep it going, just in another form.”
Annie was quiet a moment, trying to discern her emotions. Another change among so many.
Jake put his fork down and leaned in. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”
Annie sighed. “It’s not that. It just makes me sad to think about Bill’s Diner not being around anymore. I guess I’m feeling nostalgic now that I’m back. I want things to be how they were when I was young.”
“You’re still young, Annie. And if Bill wants to sell, at least we can make something good come out of it.”
“Sometimes I feel a hundred years old,” she said. “But you’re right, it sounds like a good solution.”
They talked the rest of the way through dinner, catching up on old friends and talking about the books he gave her to read. On the way home, there was finally a quiet moment and Annie let her mind drift.
“Sometimes I wonder,” she said aloud.
“About what?” Jake asked.
“What it would be like if I didn’t go back to New York,” Annie said, running her fingers through her hair. “I have no idea how I would make a living.”
“Do you have debt?” he asked, sounding like the banker he was.
“None. And I have savings, but that won’t last forever.”
“How much of a living would you need? You have a place to live. You can grow your own food.”
“True, but I would need some kind of car, and enough to help with utilities, taxes, insurance, all that. But I see your point. It wouldn’t have to be a lot, especially compared to what I’m used to in New York.”
“Annie, you could do this. You would have no trouble finding some kind of work around here,” Jake said, his voice growing passionate.
“I have been happier here, more at peace in the past weeks than I’ve been in years. But I’m afraid …” She wanted to tell him more, that the memories of what might have been would be too much, that she couldn’t bear to live near him and Camille if they ended up living here as a married couple.
“What are you afraid of?” Jake asked.
Annie searched for the words, but knew she could not tell him the truth.
“What, Annie May?” It was what he used to call her all the time, but that was before tenth grade, before things had changed between them.
