Page 82 of Don't Remind Me
“Dani pitched you my restaurant idea?” I stood a little straighter as the pinball machine in my chest went off like the jackpot, sending my heart flying against my ribs as a new kind of pride seeped through me.
“She did. Did a convincing job of it too. To the point that I spent the last three hours looking over spreadsheets, considering it.”
“You’re serious?”
We’d talked about it before, but the plan had always been to wait at least a year after Ardena’s opening to fully discuss it. And until hearing her say just now that she was seriously considering it, I don’t think all of me had accepted she actually would.
“I am,” she confirmed. “If you are.”
Was I serious about accessible fine dining? Without question. Catering the symposium only reinforced for me that not only could it be done, but it could be celebrated. Hearing Jillian say she believed in it—inme—enough to back it with her money…it was the opposite of how my parents made me feel.
This was what Dr. Ohara had meant. Dani and Jillian—they were the ones who knew the real me, who saw what I was capable of, who made me feel good.
But it wasn’t just that.
What I was doing here with Ardena felt good too. This thing Jillian and I were building wasn’t finished yet, and what else the symposium helped me see was how much further it could grow. I wanted to be a part of that growth. Even if it looked different from what I’d originally envisioned.
Clarity settled over me, another piece of myself clicking into place. I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall. “Here’s what I propose.”
“He’s so little,”my brother said softly, gazing at the bundle of blankets in his arms that held his newborn son.
Oliver Lawrence Beauford, six pounds, fourteen ounces, born at 11:07 p.m. after nearly twelve hours of labor. No wonder Stephanie was passed out.
It was nearly two in the morning, and Alec and I each sat in one of the two reclining chairs beside her hospital bed. Alec rocked his chair as he cradled his son, happier than I’d ever seen him. I welcomed the warmth it brought to my chest, grateful and relieved to find no jealousy there beside it.
He glanced at me. “Thanks, by the way. For being here.”
My chest constricted. “Of course.”
He looked down shyly, his eyes returning to his son. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be too busy. Or…want to be here. With what happened at the shower and then after last night…”
I blew out a breath. “Look, about last night. I know I need to explain?—”
“No, it’s not that,” he said. “I’m not mad that you’re dating her. I mean, sure, I was surprised. But mostly I wish you’d felt comfortable talking to me about it. About anything in your life. I feel like I hardly know you anymore, you know?”
He wasn’t wrong. Truthfully I’d grown to assume over the years that he didn’t care whether I was around or not. He and my parents seemed to make this perfect family unit, and I’d figured he didn’t need me. That he probably thought I was making an endless stream of bad decisions, slowly wasting my life.
“You always had everything so together,” I said. “It didn’t really seem like you needed a big brother. And then when you were older, I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
I shrugged. “Felt like it sometimes.” Though, to be fair, that came more from my parents than it ever had Alec. I’d just assumed he agreed with them.
“If anything, I felt like it was the other way around,” he said. “You were off on these great adventures in different countries, following your dream, and it seemed like you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“I didn’t realize you saw it that way.” Now that I thought about it, I could see why he would. In trying to avoid my parents, I had shut out pretty much all of my life from back home. There were a few times I’d remembered to send Alec a postcard from abroad for his birthday or graduation, but I’d never called. Rarely texted or emailed. I hadn’t thought he noticed.
“Why do you think I was so excited to surprise you at the gala?” he asked. “I was finally going to get to taste your food.”
“You could have just come to the restaurant. I’d have set up a chef’s table, done a tasting menu. I would have loved that.”
He lifted a shoulder. “You never invited me.”
“You never asked.”
His mouth tipped up. “I guess we both have room for improvement, huh?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”
