Page 23 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“December tenth.” She giggled as my eyes widened.
She looked like her due date was yesterday but she still had over a month to go. That baby was going to be a giant.
“Mommy, can Ms. Austin and Nick sit with us?” Rowen asked.
“Great idea, sweetie!” Gigi said. “We just got here and haven’t ordered yet. Please eat with us. It will make me feel like less of a behemoth if you take up some of the extra space at this big table.”
I felt Nick at my back. “Thanks, Gigi, but we can—”
“We’d love to!” I interrupted his protest. I took the end seat so Nick couldn’t sit at my side and touch me again like he had at the theater.
I got settled and quickly scanned the restaurant. The café had an old-fashioned diner feel. Blue vinyl booths ran along the edges of the room. A long counter with matching stools lined the back and behind it was an open view of the kitchen and cooks.
“How’s teaching going?” Gigi asked. “Is my baby girl behaving herself?”
“She’s perfect,” I said.
Rowen’s face split into a beaming smile.
I started to review the menu but looked up when Nick asked, “No pictures tonight? You don’t want to recreate the Prescott Café in downtown New York?”
“Funny,” I deadpanned. “And no. The Black Bull is just what I’m looking for.”
“The Black Bull?” Jess asked.
“Emmy is going to create a Montana steakhouse in Manhattan,” Nick said.
I stared at three skeptical faces. “I have a restaurant space in Manhattan that I turn over every year,” I explained. “We redesign and redecorate the space while my chef creates a brand-new menu. All of the proceeds go to charity and I thought a Montana-themed steakhouse would go over well. Last year, we did an old-fashioned Italian bistro and gave away three point four million dollars.”
I had always chosen authentic and classic restaurant themes. Most restaurateurs would choose something trendy, like molecular gastronomy or ramen burgers or a poke bar, but comfort foods have always appealed to me more. Large portions of simple, delicious food. Given the huge response we had gotten over the years, I knew I wasn’t alone in my desire for something unassuming.
“That’s impressive,” Gigi said while Jess and Nick looked at me in surprise.
“Thanks. This will be the seventh year my team has made the flip.”
“Which charities do you donate to?” Jess asked.
“I alternate every year but I always pick one whose main beneficiaries are children.”
“Why kids?” Gigi asked.
“My grandparents were devoted to the children of New York City and spent a lot of time volunteering at inner-city organizations. I used to go with them and found a passion for it.”
Those had been some of my best experiences growing up. I had adored my grandparents, and that time spent with them had been precious. They’d given me a different perspective on life and I tried to honor their memory with the restaurant and continuing their work.
“That’s remarkable, Emmeline,” Gigi said.
“For sure,” Jess added.
“Thank you.” I ducked my head to hide my blushing cheeks.
The restaurant had taken a lot of time and energy to get going, but each year, it became more and more successful. Outside of getting my teaching degree, it was my proudest accomplishment. I was glad to know that kids were getting hot meals and warm clothing all because I was able to convince the snobby socialites of New York that an unpretentious meal was worth four hundred dollars a plate.
“You didn’t tell me any of this the other night,” Nick said.
“You didn’t ask.”
We stared at each other for a moment until our waitress arrived and our table conversation split. While Nick and Jess were visiting, Gigi leaned toward me. “So, uh, you and Nick are what exactly?”
