Page 38 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
Adam’s brow furrows deeper with each word. “Caitlin, are you…okay?”
“Yeah?” I tilt my head to the side and give him a curious look. “Why wouldn’t I be? These pancakes are delicious, by the way. You’re getting really good at them.”
“Thanks,” he says slowly. “Look, about Thanksgiving. I’m going to talk to Mom about getting you a ticket too. I know it’s last minute, but I really don’t want to go without you, and if it comes right down to it, you don’t need your job. I make plenty for both of us–”
“Don’t be silly,” I cut in. “It’s a family thing, and Millie needs this. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to catch up on some reading. Maybe deep-clean the apartment. I’ve been meaning to do it.”
Adam sets down his fork. “You’re planning to deep-clean the apartment over Thanksgiving.”
“Sure, why not?” I say brightly, shoving a forkful of pancake into my mouth to avoid elaborating.
“Caitlin…” His voice has that careful tone, like he’s approaching a wild animal. “I know you’re upset. You don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I insist, the false cheerfulness in my voice cranked up another notch. “I’ve just realized that I need to be more understanding about your friendship with Millie. She’s been through so much after all, and you two have all that history. It’s sweet, really.”
Adam’s eyes narrow slightly. “This doesn’t sound like you.”
“Well, maybe I realized I’ve been too selfish.” I stand up and scrape my half-eaten breakfast into the trash. “I should get going. I have some stuff to do in town before work.”
“We’re not done talking about this,” Adam says, rising too.
“Nothing to talk about!” I grab my purse and keys. “We’re good. You go on your cruise, support Millie, be the hero. I’m one hundred percent behind you.”
Before he can respond, I plant a quick kiss on his cheek and practically skip out the door, maintaining the facade until I’m safely in my car. Only then do I let my smile drop, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white.
* * *
I drive to Rosie’s on autopilot. I don’t really have anything to do; I just needed to leave before the temptation to break character and put a fork in his eye grew too great. To distract myself, I map out what I need to do next. First step: give notice at work. Second step: figure out when I’m actually leaving. To do that, I suppose I need to find out when Adam is leaving. Third step: decide what to pack and what to leave behind.
Rosie’s is quiet when I arrive, most of the kitchen staff busy prepping for lunch. My boss, Iris, is in her tiny office off the kitchen, glasses perched on the end of her nose as she reviews invoices.
“Got a minute?” I ask, tapping on her open door.
She looks up, smiling when she sees me. “Morning, sunshine. You’re early. What’s up?”
I close the door behind me and take the seat across from her desk. “I need to give my notice.”
Iris’s smile vanishes. “That bastard at Riverfront finally poached you, didn’t he? I knew Frank would come sniffing around when he got an idea of what you can do in the kitchen.” She slaps her hand on the desk. “How much is he offering? If he thinks he can just walk in and take the best cook I’ve ever had–”
“It’s not another restaurant,” I interrupt gently. “I’m moving to Oregon. I have family there.”
That stops her cold. “Oregon? But…” Her eyes drop to my now ringless finger, then back to my face, and she raises a brow. “Is Adam going with you?”
I take a deep breath. “No. Adam is staying here. I’m… I’m going alone. Our engagement is ending. But please don’t mention it to anyone yet; I haven’t exactly told him I’m leaving.”
“Oh, honey.” Iris’s expression softens. “What happened?”
“It’s complicated,” I say, not wanting to get into the whole Millie situation. “Let’s just say I finally realized I’ve been trying to fit into a space that wasn’t shaped for me.”
Iris leans back in her chair, studying me. “You know,” she starts carefully, “I’ve lived in Mount Pella my whole life. Sixty-three years now. Had lots of chances to leave, and there are plenty of folks who would have preferred me to take them. But I’m a stubborn one. And I have to say, all these years living here and I’ve always been of the opinion that Paula Kelley is a complete bitch. And Rhonda Greene is just as bad.”
A startled laugh escapes me because that was not the direction I saw that heading. Iris chuckles too and then continues, “When I was younger, I used to take my grandmother to church every Sunday. She couldn’t drive anymore, and getting out of the house was hard on her, but she was a lifelong parishioner at First Lutheran, and she still enjoyed getting dressed up and singing some hymns and listening to a sermon. And I’ve never forgotten how Paula and her cohort treated us. Granted, I was pretty heavy into the punk scene, but Paula and Rhonda and their ilk looked at us like we were something they’d scraped off the bottom of their shoes. Because my grandmother was poor and I was different.”
I look at my boss with her deep purple curls caught up in an untidy knot on top of her head, fire engine red lips and nails, and bright orange sweater, and try to imagine her and neat, polished, always dressed to the nines Paula existing in the same space. I can’t.
“I worried about you, you know. When you first told me who your fiancé was. I thought, ‘Oh, she’s too sweet for thatfamily. They’ll chew her up and spit her out.’ Not that Adam isn’t a decent enough young man, it’s just…” she pauses, trying to collect her thoughts. “Paula’s had that boy’s life mapped out from the moment he exited her womb. She ruled him with an iron fist, and he went along mostly because he’s always been a good-natured boy. Well-liked by everyone. People were shocked when he left the state for college, and I thought, ‘Well good for him, he’s gonna break free’. And for a while it seemed like he had. Just a shame they roped him into coming back.”
The tears I’ve been holding back all morning threaten to spill over. “She never even gave me a chance,” I whisper. “And he never once stood up to her.”
