Elin Hilderbrand - The Blue Bistro

Adrienne walked by table fifteen, where Thatcher was chatting with Brian and Jennifer Devlin. She heard the word “Galápagos” and stopped in her tracks. A woman at the table behind had gotten up to use the ladies’ room and Adrienne took great, slow pains in folding the woman’s napkin so that she could listen to Thatcher.

“We leave on October ninth,” he said. “Fly to Quito overnight then to the islands for ten days. We’re on a fifty-foot ship. I’m really looking forward to it.”

Adrienne returned to the podium. Rex finished “American Pie,” and half the restaurant applauded. She thought back to her first breakfast with Thatch: As soon as we close this place, I’m taking Fee to the Galápagos. She wants to see the funny birds. He had told Adrienne right from the beginning that he was going away with Fiona. There was no reason for Adrienne to expect that he would change his travel plans just because he and Adrienne were now dating. But she did expect it. She had made peace, sort of, with the dinners. The dinners were business. They talked about the restaurant mostly, he said. The dinners were important.

Fine, Adrienne could live with the dinners. He came to her house afterward and always spent the night. But hearing him talk about ten days in the Galápagos with Fiona physically hurt. And yet what could she say? His best friend was sick and she wanted to see the funny birds. He would take her.

Caren came in off the beach and charged past the podium into the ladies’ room. The ladies’ room only accommodated one person at a time, so Adrienne knocked. “It’s me,” she said.

Caren cracked the door. “Men!” she said, leaving Adrienne with nothing to do but agree.

By quarter to nine, most of the tables had finished eating and Adrienne went crazy running credit cards. The guests moved out onto the beach to order more drinks and settle in their chairs. Adrienne ordered a coffee. She was exhausted and her red T-shirt dress was soaked with sweat.

Thatcher rallied the waitstaff. “We have an hour of peace and quiet. Once these tables are stripped and reset, you’re free until the finale of the fireworks starts. Then I want you back in here ready for second seating.”

The fireworks began at ten after nine. By that time, the guests for second seating had all arrived and the only people working out front were Duncan, who was pouring the drinks, and Bruno and Christo, who were serving them. Thatcher took Adrienne by the hand and led her out of the restaurant. She wanted to say something to him about the Galápagos, but she had yet to come up with the right words. Please don’t go? Take me with you? Or how about this: Would you at least not say you’re looking forward to it?

He led her into the sand dunes behind the restaurant. Adrienne took off her shoes and climbed after him. They plopped in the sand, hidden from the crowd by eelgrass. Thatcher held Adrienne in his lap like she was a child, and she pressed her face into his neck. She could feel his pulse against her cheek.

“How are you?” he asked. “Isn’t this great?”

There was a bang, and a burst of red exploded in the sky, like a giant poppy losing its petals. The water shimmered with color. Then gold, blue, purple, white.

Adrienne’s best Fourth of July, just like the other best moments of her life, had happened Before-before her mother got sick. Adrienne was eleven years old. In the morning, Rosalie and Dr. Don worked together in the kitchen preparing a salad for the potluck dinner while they watched Wimbledon on TV. Then, at four o’clock, they walked across the street. (Adrienne remembered her old neighborhood in summer-the smell of the grass, the huge, beautiful trees, the grumble of lawn mowers and the whirring of sprinklers.) Seven families gathered at the Fiddlers’ pool for swimming and croquet and a cookout. And Popsicles and flashlight tag and sparklers. Adrienne had been part of a family with the other kids, kids she hadn’t seen or thought of for years and years: Caroline Fiddler, Jake Clark, Toby and Trey Wiley, Tricia Gilette, Natalie, Blake and David Anola. The girls lined up their Dr. Scholl sandals and lay back in the grass looking up at the stars and searching for any hint of the big fireworks being set off in Philadelphia. They talked, naïvely, about boys; Natalie Anola had a crush on Jake Clark. The world of boys at that point to Adrienne was like a wide, unexplored field and she was standing at the edge. At ten o’clock, Rosalie and Dr. Don, flush with an evening of Mount Gay and tonics, dragged Adrienne home where she fell asleep in her clothes. Happy, safe, excited about the possibilities of her life.

That one was the best, and Adrienne had spent all the interceding years mourning, not only the loss of her mother, but the loss of that happiness. Right this second she felt a glimmer of it-Nantucket Island, in Thatcher’s arms, watching the colors soar and burst overhead, feeling a breeze, finally, coming off the water. Forget the Galápagos, she told herself. Forget that there were 125 people yet to feed. Forget that Fiona would have twice the amount of time alone with Thatcher that Adrienne had. Forget all that because this moment was great, great enough to make it into her memories. Adrienne savored every second, because she feared it wouldn’t last.

Hydrangeas

July was true summer. It was eighty-five degrees and sunny-beach weather, barbecue weather, Blue Bistro weather. The bar was packed every night, and the phone rang off the hook. Florists came in to change the flowers in the restaurant from irises to hydrangeas. Hydrangeas like bushy heads, bluer than blue.

Adrienne was admiring the bouquet of hydrangeas on the hostess podium when the private line rang. It was a Monday morning and she was covering the phones while Thatcher met with a rep from Classic Wines.

“Good morning, Blue Bistro.”

“Adrienne?”

“Yes?”

“Drew Amman-Keller. I’m surprised you’re not out jogging. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Well, you know,” Adrienne said, glancing nervously around the dining room, “I have to work.”

“I’m calling to confirm a rumor,” Drew Amman-Keller said.

Adrienne held the receiver to her forehead. Should she just hang up?

“What rumor is that?”

“Is Tam Vinidin eating at the bistro tomorrow night?”

“Tam Vinidin, the actress?”

“Can you confirm that she has a reservation?” he asked.

Adrienne laughed. Ha! “I wish she did. Sorry, Drew.” She hung up.

A few minutes later, JZ’s truck pulled into the parking lot. He rolled in the door with two boxes of New York strip steaks on a dolly.

“Hey, Adrienne!” he said.

“Hey,” she said. “How’s everything? How’s Shaughnessy?”

“She’s fine,” he said. “She leaves for camp in two weeks.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good,” he said. “I’m going to sneak over here for a vacation.”

“That’ll be nice,” Adrienne said. “Fiona will be happy.”

JZ backed up the dolly. Before he headed into the kitchen, he said, “I heard Tam Vinidin is eating here tomorrow night.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Guy on the boat told me.”

“She hasn’t called,” Adrienne said. She flipped a page in the reservation book. “I hope she calls soon. We’re almost full.”

As JZ pushed into the kitchen, Hector popped out. Of all the Subiacos, Hector was Adrienne’s least favorite. He used the foulest language and was merciless when he teased his brothers and cousins. Adrienne was not excited to see his tall, lanky frame loping toward her.