Only You
Page 53
“And I really like what I do, but a new scene will be a good creative challenge, I think.”
“Sure.”
“And things with Nate sort of fell apart,” I admitted, smoothing the napkin over my jeans.
“I wondered.” Mia pulled a bottle of wine from a fridge beneath the counter as Lucas came in through the back hall.
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath, hoping I could talk about this without crying. “It happened kind of suddenly.”
“I’ll do that, babe.” Lucas took the corkscrew from Mia and opened the bottle.
She gave him a quick pat on the butt before going over to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot. “What exactly happened?” she asked me.
“It’s hard to say, exactly. We had what I thought was this awesome thing going for a couple weeks, and then boom—it just exploded.”
“It exploded?” she asked, rising on tiptoe to pull a big shallow bowl from an upper shelf. “Or he blew it up?”
Lucas set a glass of wine down in front of me. “You know, Mia, this could be kind of a private thing,” he said to his wife.
She turned around and gave him a disapproving look. “Girls like to talk about this stuff. Go away if you don’t want to hear about it.”
He held up two hands. “I’m fine if Emme is.”
“I’m fine.” I sighed. “I mean, I’m fine talking about it. I’m still sort of reeling over the split. To answer your question, yes—he blew it up. I think we got too close for his comfort.”
Lucas leaned back against the counter, wine glass in hand, and nodded. “Sounds like a guy move.”
Mia ladled whatever she’d warmed up into the bowl, and grabbed a spoon from a drawer, shutting the drawer with her hip. “Honey, will you slice that baguette on the counter, please?” she asked Lucas.
“Of course.”
“So you think he sabotaged the whole thing on purpose?” She set the bowl and spoon down in front of me. “Here. Beef bourguignon cures everything.”
I inhaled the fragrant, steaming stew and my mouth watered. “You might be right. This smells incredible.”
Mia smiled and lifted her glass. “Bon appétit.”
I picked up my spoon and dug in, confiding in them in more detail—how careful I thought I’d been, how wonderful it was to see Nate growing to love his baby daughter, how seeing the changes in him had affected me, how learning about his family history and the visit to his childhood home had revealed so much about his emotional makeup. They listened thoughtfully, commented sympathetically, poured more wine.
“But in the end, either he hadn’t changed at all and I saw only what I wanted to see, or he got freaked out and decided to end things before they went any further.” I mopped the bottom of my bowl with a piece of bread.
“Hmm.” Mia lifted her wine glass to her lips. By now, she was sitting on the stool next to me.
“My guess is he freaked out,” said Lucas. “Just like Mia did.”
I looked at my cousin in surprise.
“What?” Mia shrieked, sitting up taller. “I did not freak out. It was you who was all, Marriage is futile and I never want kids.” She imitated his deep voice and exaggerated his French accent.
He laughed. “But right after we met, when we were still in France at the end of your vacation, you wanted to call the whole thing off. I wanted to see where it might go.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mia’s spine curled a little. “I always forget that part.” She recovered a little spunk. “But I only did that because I thought ultimately there was no hope for us—I wanted a husband and family by age thirty and I was already twenty-eight—”
“Twenty-seven,” Lucas interrupted, a rakish grin on his face.
Mia glared at him. “Fine, I was twenty-seven,” she corrected, “but I knew what I wanted and it was exactly what you didn’t want. I didn’t see how we were going to make it work, and I didn’t want to get hurt. I was half in love with you.”
“Oh, you were totally in love with me.” He drank, his eyes dancing over the rim of his glass.
“How did you?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Make it work, I mean.”
“I taught her to live in the moment,” said Lucas. “To stop obsessing over her silly life deadlines.”
“And I taught him to be open to the idea of lifetime commitment,” said Mia, shooting him a venomous look. “I showed him how amazing it would be to be married to me.”
“And she was right. It is.” He came over and kissed his wife’s lips, leaving a smile there. “Bottom line—it was trust, patience, and compromise.” Lucas pulled another bottle from the wine fridge. “Should I open it?”
“What time is it?” asked Mia.
Lucas checked his watch. “A few minutes after ten.”
“Yes, open it.” They exchanged a look I didn’t quite understand.
I was totally into another glass of wine, but I didn’t want to keep them up. “If you guys need to go to bed, I’m fine doing that, too,” I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “I know it’s late, and the kids will be up early.”
“No!” Mia turned to face me with a smile so bright I almost thought it was fake. “No, I want another glass too. And we’re not tired.”
“Not at all,” Lucas said, pulling the cork from the second bottle.
I wasn’t sure I believed them, but it’s hard for me to say no to wine and good conversation, and I loved being around Mia and Lucas. Like Coco and Nick, they were so at ease with each other. They’d found a groove. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, there was still a fair amount of teasing and eye-rolling and poking fun, but underneath was this incredible chemistry, unspoken love and support. It was palpable in the air between them. They admired each other and desired each other. In the wake of my disappointment, it was comforting to know that it existed.
We moved to the opposite end of the room and settled on the large, comfortable furniture in front of the fireplace. Mia and Lucas sat next to each other on the couch and I curled up in a chair. I asked about the wine we were drinking, and Lucas chatted enthusiastically about the success he’d had with certain grapes up here that few other winemakers were trying. In the middle of that conversation, Lucas got a text and excused himself to make a quick phone call. When he came back ten minutes later, Mia was talking about the events she had planned for the winery this summer, and how the new guest cottages were almost completely booked from May to September. But I noticed the way she kept her eye on the clock above the fireplace.
Eventually, she yawned and stretched theatrically. “Well, I have to admit, I’m beat.”
“Me too,” I said. We’d finished the second bottle of wine some time ago, and I was pleasantly drowsy. I looked at my phone. “Wow, it’s after eleven already.”
“I’ll walk you to the cottage,” Mia said as she rose to her feet. “Let me grab a sweater.”
I stood up and brought my wine glass to the kitchen, setting it on the counter. Lucas began turning off the lights. “Thanks so much for dinner and the wine,” I said to him. “Everything was delicious.”
“You’re always welcome,” he said.
Mia appeared wearing a gray cardigan. “Ready?” She tugged on my hand.
“Yes. Night, Lucas,” I called.
He looked over at us and smiled. “Night.”
Mia practically pulled me down the hall and out the back door. Outside, she took off down a winding gravel path at a pretty good clip.
I laughed, trying to keep up. “Is there a fire? My heels are sinking into the gravel.”
“Oh, sorry. No, it’s just chilly. I want to get you all tucked into your cottage.” But she slowed down a little, pulling her phone from her pocket and checking the screen.
I breathed in the cool night air, scented with wet earth and the coming of spring. Tilting my head back, I looked up at the sky. “Too cloudy for stars,” I said with a sigh. “No wish for me.”
“Sure.”
“And things with Nate sort of fell apart,” I admitted, smoothing the napkin over my jeans.
“I wondered.” Mia pulled a bottle of wine from a fridge beneath the counter as Lucas came in through the back hall.
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath, hoping I could talk about this without crying. “It happened kind of suddenly.”
“I’ll do that, babe.” Lucas took the corkscrew from Mia and opened the bottle.
She gave him a quick pat on the butt before going over to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot. “What exactly happened?” she asked me.
“It’s hard to say, exactly. We had what I thought was this awesome thing going for a couple weeks, and then boom—it just exploded.”
“It exploded?” she asked, rising on tiptoe to pull a big shallow bowl from an upper shelf. “Or he blew it up?”
Lucas set a glass of wine down in front of me. “You know, Mia, this could be kind of a private thing,” he said to his wife.
She turned around and gave him a disapproving look. “Girls like to talk about this stuff. Go away if you don’t want to hear about it.”
He held up two hands. “I’m fine if Emme is.”
“I’m fine.” I sighed. “I mean, I’m fine talking about it. I’m still sort of reeling over the split. To answer your question, yes—he blew it up. I think we got too close for his comfort.”
Lucas leaned back against the counter, wine glass in hand, and nodded. “Sounds like a guy move.”
Mia ladled whatever she’d warmed up into the bowl, and grabbed a spoon from a drawer, shutting the drawer with her hip. “Honey, will you slice that baguette on the counter, please?” she asked Lucas.
“Of course.”
“So you think he sabotaged the whole thing on purpose?” She set the bowl and spoon down in front of me. “Here. Beef bourguignon cures everything.”
I inhaled the fragrant, steaming stew and my mouth watered. “You might be right. This smells incredible.”
Mia smiled and lifted her glass. “Bon appétit.”
I picked up my spoon and dug in, confiding in them in more detail—how careful I thought I’d been, how wonderful it was to see Nate growing to love his baby daughter, how seeing the changes in him had affected me, how learning about his family history and the visit to his childhood home had revealed so much about his emotional makeup. They listened thoughtfully, commented sympathetically, poured more wine.
“But in the end, either he hadn’t changed at all and I saw only what I wanted to see, or he got freaked out and decided to end things before they went any further.” I mopped the bottom of my bowl with a piece of bread.
“Hmm.” Mia lifted her wine glass to her lips. By now, she was sitting on the stool next to me.
“My guess is he freaked out,” said Lucas. “Just like Mia did.”
I looked at my cousin in surprise.
“What?” Mia shrieked, sitting up taller. “I did not freak out. It was you who was all, Marriage is futile and I never want kids.” She imitated his deep voice and exaggerated his French accent.
He laughed. “But right after we met, when we were still in France at the end of your vacation, you wanted to call the whole thing off. I wanted to see where it might go.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mia’s spine curled a little. “I always forget that part.” She recovered a little spunk. “But I only did that because I thought ultimately there was no hope for us—I wanted a husband and family by age thirty and I was already twenty-eight—”
“Twenty-seven,” Lucas interrupted, a rakish grin on his face.
Mia glared at him. “Fine, I was twenty-seven,” she corrected, “but I knew what I wanted and it was exactly what you didn’t want. I didn’t see how we were going to make it work, and I didn’t want to get hurt. I was half in love with you.”
“Oh, you were totally in love with me.” He drank, his eyes dancing over the rim of his glass.
“How did you?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Make it work, I mean.”
“I taught her to live in the moment,” said Lucas. “To stop obsessing over her silly life deadlines.”
“And I taught him to be open to the idea of lifetime commitment,” said Mia, shooting him a venomous look. “I showed him how amazing it would be to be married to me.”
“And she was right. It is.” He came over and kissed his wife’s lips, leaving a smile there. “Bottom line—it was trust, patience, and compromise.” Lucas pulled another bottle from the wine fridge. “Should I open it?”
“What time is it?” asked Mia.
Lucas checked his watch. “A few minutes after ten.”
“Yes, open it.” They exchanged a look I didn’t quite understand.
I was totally into another glass of wine, but I didn’t want to keep them up. “If you guys need to go to bed, I’m fine doing that, too,” I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “I know it’s late, and the kids will be up early.”
“No!” Mia turned to face me with a smile so bright I almost thought it was fake. “No, I want another glass too. And we’re not tired.”
“Not at all,” Lucas said, pulling the cork from the second bottle.
I wasn’t sure I believed them, but it’s hard for me to say no to wine and good conversation, and I loved being around Mia and Lucas. Like Coco and Nick, they were so at ease with each other. They’d found a groove. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, there was still a fair amount of teasing and eye-rolling and poking fun, but underneath was this incredible chemistry, unspoken love and support. It was palpable in the air between them. They admired each other and desired each other. In the wake of my disappointment, it was comforting to know that it existed.
We moved to the opposite end of the room and settled on the large, comfortable furniture in front of the fireplace. Mia and Lucas sat next to each other on the couch and I curled up in a chair. I asked about the wine we were drinking, and Lucas chatted enthusiastically about the success he’d had with certain grapes up here that few other winemakers were trying. In the middle of that conversation, Lucas got a text and excused himself to make a quick phone call. When he came back ten minutes later, Mia was talking about the events she had planned for the winery this summer, and how the new guest cottages were almost completely booked from May to September. But I noticed the way she kept her eye on the clock above the fireplace.
Eventually, she yawned and stretched theatrically. “Well, I have to admit, I’m beat.”
“Me too,” I said. We’d finished the second bottle of wine some time ago, and I was pleasantly drowsy. I looked at my phone. “Wow, it’s after eleven already.”
“I’ll walk you to the cottage,” Mia said as she rose to her feet. “Let me grab a sweater.”
I stood up and brought my wine glass to the kitchen, setting it on the counter. Lucas began turning off the lights. “Thanks so much for dinner and the wine,” I said to him. “Everything was delicious.”
“You’re always welcome,” he said.
Mia appeared wearing a gray cardigan. “Ready?” She tugged on my hand.
“Yes. Night, Lucas,” I called.
He looked over at us and smiled. “Night.”
Mia practically pulled me down the hall and out the back door. Outside, she took off down a winding gravel path at a pretty good clip.
I laughed, trying to keep up. “Is there a fire? My heels are sinking into the gravel.”
“Oh, sorry. No, it’s just chilly. I want to get you all tucked into your cottage.” But she slowed down a little, pulling her phone from her pocket and checking the screen.
I breathed in the cool night air, scented with wet earth and the coming of spring. Tilting my head back, I looked up at the sky. “Too cloudy for stars,” I said with a sigh. “No wish for me.”
