Riversong (32 page)

He walked toward the kitchen and she turned to see a young woman, in black pants and a clingy knit blouse, come in the front door. “I'm looking for the owner. I'm here from the Seattle Times.” The woman's collar bones and hipbones jutted against the clingy fabric of her clothes.

Lee stuck out her hand. “I'm the manager, Lee Tucker. The owner, Mike Huller, will be here in a moment.”

“Yeah, he's the one knows my boss. He made me come down here as a favor to him. My name's Sylvia. Sylvia Nox”

“Welcome to Riversong. May I seat you in the dining room?”

“Wherever.” Sylvia studied her. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I don't think so.” Lee looked at the floor and ushered her to a table by the front window. “You been doing this long?”

“No, I'm new to the paper. The food guy moved up to features, so they gave me the restaurant beat.” She had a petite face and short, spiky bleached blond hair, arranged in angry peaks on the top of her round head. “To be honest with you, I don't know a thing about food. I don't really eat.” She sighed and touched a plastered bit of hair that hung over her forehead. “I keep thinking, shit, I have a degree in journalism and I'm stuck writing about a restaurant in Podunk Oregon. No offense. I'm looking for a big story, one to show them what I can do.” She looked around at the empty room. “Guess I won't find it tonight. My boyfriend and I both got hired out of journalism school but he gets assigned to the business section and I'm stuck writing about food. Sexism is alive and well, let me tell you.” She brushed sweat from the sides of her nose with her fingertips and wiped them on the top of the crisp white table cloth. “Christ, it's hot down here and what's up with all the fat people at the rest stops? The paper's so cheap I couldn't take a flight and had to drive. I drink diet cokes by the gallon.” She reached into her bag and plunked a pack of Marlboro Lights on the tabletop. “Can you still smoke down here in the wild west? In Seattle you practically get arrested for buying a pack of cigarettes.”

Lee cleared her throat, placing her finger on the twitch next to her right eye. “No, this is a non-smoking restaurant. You can smoke outside if you want.”

Sylvia took a cigarette out of the pack and stuck it in her mouth. “I'll ask you a few questions and then take a little smoke break.”

“You should probably just talk to our owner. Our chef is busy getting ready for dinner hour. I'm just the staff, really.”

“Whatever. Let's just make it quick. I've got to drive home tonight.”

“Will you be having dinner then? We'd love to have the opportunity to show off our menu.”

She waved her cigarette in the air. “Sure thing. Whatever you want to send out, is fine. Except, did I mention I'm a vegetarian?”

“Will you excuse me a moment?”

Lee found Mike in the kitchen, sampling the specials. “Reporter's here. You ready to talk to her?”

He clapped his hands together. “Yeah, get Linus too. I want to make sure we tell the story the right way.”

She tasted blood and realized her teeth were clenching the insides of her cheeks. “Just leave me out of it.”

He took her hands and nudged her into the office. “Lee, you don't have to tell me again to keep you out of the paper. You gotta learn to trust a little. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you.” He patted her on the top of the head. “I'm growing real fond of you and I don't want you running off like a scared little bunny rabbit.”

She relaxed her shoulders and sighed. “Alright.” She pointed towards the dining room. “Just get out there and talk to the skinny reporter, or I could commit a murder before we sell our first steak.”

Tommy, alone on stage while his band took a break, was perched on a stool, singing an old folk song into the microphone. Lee nibbled on an appetizer at one of the tables, swollen feet on a chair hidden beneath the tablecloth and listened to the music, feeling relieved. Then she walked to the bar and ordered a soda water from Cindi, replaying the night in her mind. The minute the first customer had entered, Lee didn't have time to fret over anything but keeping up with the flow. By 7:00 every seat was filled, along with people waiting in the bar for a table to open. The local women were all turned out in full garb and make-up, the men in nice shirts. Several of the women thanked Lee for opening someplace nice they could make their husbands take them. Everyone raved about the food. At one point a couple called for the chef to come out to their table and when Annie entered the dining room, Ellen and Tommy stood and clapped and the entire restaurant followed. Annie, red-faced, tears in her eyes, took a small bow and returned to the kitchen.

Lee glanced at her watch. It was a few minutes after midnight, and the dining room had closed an hour ago. But the bar was packed with people ordering drinks and appetizers. Linus perched on a barstool, chatting with Cindi while she made drinks. Mike remained at a table in the dining room with a group of men, beaming at Lee from time to time. Lee assumed they talked business by the way they leaned their heads together and scribbled notes onto the paper bar napkins. She heard Cindi say to Linus, “Those guys with Mike, they ordered a 150.00 dollar bottle of wine. Think of the tip.” Think of the margin, Lee thought.

Annie came out of the kitchen and plopped down next to Linus at the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, Lee saw the men with Mike get up from the table and circle in the doorway. She heaved out of her chair and moved towards them, smoothing her dress over her extended stomach. The three men, dressed in Tommy Bahama shirts and trousers, smelling of expensive aftershave, nodded and smiled at Lee.

Mike stepped back, allowing her into the circle. “Lee, these are the gentlemen I told you about. They're developers from Seattle and we've been talking about how to turn this town into a tourist destination.”

The oldest of the group, a handsome, polished man in his fifties slapped Mike on the back. “Now, we're fly fisherman more than developers. But, we're interested in this little town. Have been for awhile and I think Mike's finally got us convinced.” He smiled at Lee. “This place has certainly helped sway our opinion. And, the bed and breakfast going in next door. Just great.”

They said their goodbyes and the door was no sooner closed than Mike squeezed her in a bear hug. “I've been working on those Suits for three years to partner with me to build a hunting and fishing lodge on the river. I own some choice property out there along River Road and it's perfect for a fishing lodge. They agreed to do it tonight.” He led her to a table, calling Annie to join them. “Now you sit back down and take a load off.” He pulled out a chair for Annie, slapping the table. “Girls, just super job tonight. Super. Annie, I would never have thought of lamb shanks with that blackberry sauce on top of it.”

Annie laughed. “You talking about my blackberry reduction?”

“Sure, sauce, reduction, whatever you want to call it, but heck, it might've been the best thing I ever tasted.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a checkbook. “I'm giving you both a little opening night bonus.” He scribbled on two checks, tore them out of the register and placed them on the table in front of them.

They were made out for five thousand dollars each. Lee was unable to speak, but Annie held her check in both hands and shook her head back and forth. “Five G's.” She leapt from the table and hugged and kissed Mike.

He blushed, brushing her aside. “You two deserve it, working in here these last months with hardly a paycheck.” He looked at Lee. “This was a gosh darn miracle.”

Annie's eyes glistened. “This is the most money I've ever had at one time.”

Mike looked between them. “I want to make sure you two stick around. There's more of that in your futures if we keep turning them out like tonight.”

After he left, Lee glanced around the restaurant and felt her heart swell with pride and dare she say it, happiness. She thought about Linus's proclamation earlier that he was opening a bed and breakfast while throwing his heart into a love affair. She thought about Mike's steadfast resolve to change the town and of Tommy and her staff and her friends. It all felt like her real life now and she didn't know how she could walk away if, when, Von found her.

She thought of Zac's money behind the desk and wondered for the hundredth time if she should steal it to pay off DeAngelo. She knew it was too dangerous. She, Mike and Zac were the only three with a key to the office. He'd figure it was her as soon as he discovered the money was gone. It was trading one danger for the other, except Zac knew exactly where she was. As long as Von didn't find her, she could keep saving until she had enough money to buy her freedom. She turned and watched Tommy's strong hands tuning his guitar, a gnawing emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

L
ee opened her eyes to sunlight peeping through the black-out shades in Tommy's bedroom. It was Monday morning and Riversong was three weeks old. She stretched and thought it felt like three years instead of three weeks. She rested her hand on her stomach which moved with the rhythm of the baby's habitual morning hiccups. There was a note on the bedside table from Tommy saying he went for a run and he would be back by 8:30. It was 8:40. She turned and rested her head in the indent of his pillow and breathed in the scent of his hair and the salty smell of his skin that lingered on the soft cotton.

Twenty minutes went by, and another twenty. She paced the floor, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, sweating, fighting the nausea. She showered, trying to scrub away the panic that invaded her but crazy thoughts ran like a wild fire and she was helpless to stop them. She sat on the floor of the shower gripping her knees, water hammering the top of her head. She imagined him dead on the side of the road from a hit and run. Maybe it was a heart attack or a rattlesnake hidden in the tall grasses that lashed out to bite his ankle, either way he writhed in pain, dying in the hot sun. Perhaps he decided she was too much work and had pushed his truck without starting it to the highway so as not to wake her and snuck out of town. Maybe he ran into one of the women from the bar and decided to follow them home.

Or did Zac come after him?

Or, Von.

Or, maybe he shot himself.

At ten after ten, sitting in his large armchair in the corner of the bedroom, she heard his keys drop on the front table. He called out, “Baby, I'm back. You up?” He came into the bedroom, sweaty and more alive than ever. He tore off his shirt. “I smell awful but it's the most fantastic day. There's some crispness in the air and it felt so good I decided to run all the way to the farmer's market to buy blackberries. I had a plan to get Ellen to make me a pie but when I got there I realized I had no way of getting them back. I mean, can you imagine me running back with a flat of blackberries in my arms?” He paused, considering her, while slipping off his sneakers by pushing the toe of his shoe into the heel of one then the other. “Why is your hair wet? You shower already?”

She stared at the floor in front of the chair, resting her arms on top of her pregnant belly. “I was about to go home.” The panic lingered and she felt as though she might suffocate.

“What? I thought we're spending the day together?”

She shrugged. “I have a meeting at the restaurant.”

He kneeled next to the chair and covered one of her bare knees with his hand. “This because I'm later than I said in the note?” He scooted in front of her and leaned closer to her face. Although she didn't meet his gaze, she felt him analyzing her and his voice was tender. “I worried you. I'm sorry. I didn't realize how long I was gone. I'm back now and it's okay, right?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about how much it would scare you if I was late. And I should have.”

She jumped up from the chair and grabbed her clothes. “I've got to get to my meeting.”

He sat on the floor and watched her getting dressed. “I know there's no meeting. Can't we talk about this?”

She held up a hand. “What's there to talk about?”

“Lee, I will always come back. No matter what. You need to understand that.”

She sobbed, making angry swipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You don't know that. You don't know all the things that can happen that could wreck your life.”

He looked at her, his face helpless. He opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it and shut it without another word. Although her insides roared with the desire to stay, she left the room and headed for the door.

At her car, he put his hand on the handle to stop her. “Just stay, let me fix you breakfast.” There was fear in his eyes, his need for her palpable and instead of softening her, it made her angrier still.

“It's way past breakfast,” said Lee.

“Will I see you later?”

“You're playing tonight, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then I'll see you later.”

She drove away, angry that he stood in his yard, watching her car move down the dirt road, a cloud of dust billowing behind like a giant apparition. She could feel his eyes bore into the back of her car and imagined she felt the pull of him saying,
come back, come back
.

Later that same night, she allowed him to take her to his home after the restaurant closed, feeling grateful he seemed the same as always. Her panic having subsided, they continued as if nothing had happened. But Lee was filled with dread, a foreboding that she could not shake.