Page 70 of When I Come Back
“Thea, just… please tell me what’s happening.”
“Travis put in his notice last week. He’s having issues with his ex-wife and needs to move. He didn’t give an exact end date, but I know he wants to get Melody away from here as soon as possible.” She looks so defeated. “Please, let me get back to Rachel. She’s the first half-decent candidate I’ve managed to agree to interview. We can’t afford for her to leave.”
“Where is Travis going?”
“I don’t think he has that figured out yet. As far away from here as possible, I’m sure.”
There’s a long pause between us as I take it all in, and she’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Granted, I am smiling wide at what should be horrible news, so I don’t blame her for thinking I’ve lost it.
“Okay, I don’t understand what’s going on here, but I don’t have ti—” Thea starts to push past me to the door before I cut her off.
“Here,” I say as I hand her a large envelope. After a beat, I hold out my other hand as well, pushing the bouquet of peonies I’ve been holding toward her. “These are also for you.” Thea looks between the envelope, flowers, and my face, clearly puzzled. She slowly reaches out and takes both, bringing the flowers to her face quickly, taking in their aroma, her eyes fluttering shut at the scent, and a miniscule smile ticks ather lips. When she opens her eyes, her face hardens again in annoyance.
“Okay, yeah,” I say, rubbing my hand over my scruff. “I’d like to interview.”
Her milk chocolate gaze snaps to me, questioning.
“I want to interview for the head chef position,” I clarify.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Thea huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, Cary. I really can’t deal with this right now. Please, just let me get back to my meeting.”
“No, listen. I want to work here. I want to be considered. I’m sure I have the experience you’re looking for.” When her expression doesn’t change, I continue, “I’m sorry, I’m running on no sleep. Please open the envelope. It’ll make more sense then.”
Thea narrows her eyes at me and after a few moments shoves the flowers at me, freeing her hand to open the envelope and pull the contents out.
“What is this?” she asks as her eyes slide over the papers.
“It’s all yours. RED, the land, all of it,” I say. “You just have to sign at the tabs.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“This,” I say pointing at the papers, “is RED. I told you before: RED is you. You are RED. And it’s perfect the way it is. You don’t need me to run it. I had Elsher put everything in your name. You just have to sign.”
I watch her face. At first, all I see is confusion. But it slowly morphs into disbelief and cycles through a dozen other emotions I can’t quite decipher. She ends on anger.
Not exactly what I was aiming for.
“Are you—so you’re just going to wash your hands clean of this place? Go back to Seattle?That’syour plan?” It hits me then that this isn’t simply anger, she’s furious. “This was your big plan? Drop off the face of the Earth for almost a week and thenjust sign everything over and go back? Cut all ties? I should have known. It’s wha—” I gently put my hand to her mouth, cutting off her rant.
“Let me stop you right there,” I say calmly. “RED doesn’t belong to me, or at least it shouldn’t. You deserve this place. You deserve to run it, own it… grow it.” I pause and watch her, still skeptical of me. “But I want to be here to see what you do with it. If you’ll let me. Once you sign those papers, I have nothing tying me here to Indigo Hill. Nothing butyou. And I choose you, Thea. I don’t want to be where you aren’t.”
“But what about Seattle? What about your restaurant? Opening your own was your dream come true…” she says, eyes tearing up.
“No. You, Thea. You’re my dream come true. Not some restaurant in Seattle. Not a diner here in South Carolina. You’reit.And as for my apartment, I put it on the market, and I’m a silent, minority partner in the restaurant. Seth has more of a voice in what happens there than I do now.” I step closer to her, taking her face in my hands. Using my thumb, I brush the tears that have escaped onto her left cheek. “So, Lemon, for all intents and purposes, I’m unemployed. Can I please interview for the chef position?”
And before she can protest, I add, “I also think there might be a great opportunity for Travis in Seattle, if he wants it.”
“Thank you so much for coming in,” Thea says as she and Rachel stroll past me to the front door of RED. The restaurantis mostly empty now, just a few tables filled with the late lunch stragglers. It won’t pick up again for a few hours when dinner service starts.
Nat refills my water glass as I follow Thea’s movements across the restaurant with my eyes. They stop by the door and continue to chat, Thea smiling and nodding at something the other woman said. Despite offering myself for the position, Thea insisted on taking the interview with Rachel. They had been holed up in the office for over an hour.
When she first brought Rachel to the back, I assumed it was perfunctory, out of obligation, since she took the time to come out here. I took an empty seat at the bar to wait for her. After about fifteen minutes, the door to the office remained closed. After thirty, sweat started to prickle the back of my neck. Intrusive thoughts telling me maybe she didn’t want me here at all started up in full force.
At the forty-five minute mark, Nat dropped a Mediterranean salad topped with salmon in front of me. “Eat,” was all she said before stepping away to make drinks for other patrons. I savored the sweet tomatoes and tangy artichoke, imagining how the dish could be elevated with a simple dill vinaigrette.
With my stomach full from lunch, and my mind full of doubt, overwhelming exhaustion hit me like a train. I was in the middle of a yawn when the office door finally opened.
With a wave goodbye, Thea turns and heads straight for me. Her eyes take in my face, and she must see the fatigue in my features because with a quick, “Let’s go,” and a grab of my hand, she’s pulling me off my stool and out the door. We’re at her house in about fifteen minutes. She’d filled the car ride with music, silently telling me talking was off the table for now.
