A Family to Call Her Own. Irene Hannon
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must have been some favor,” Frances commented.
“Yellow roses. Now that’s interesting,” Rose mused.
Rebecca looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”
“The language of flowers, dear,” Rose replied matter-of-factly. “Yellow roses mean ‘I’ll never forget you.”’
Rebecca’s face flamed and she lowered her head, tucking the note into her apron pocket. “I doubt whether anyone knows that these days,” she remarked, striving for an offhanded tone. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Maybe,” Rose replied, her eyes twinkling. “And then again, maybe not.”
“Well, I don’t have time to speculate about flower messages,” Rebecca declared briskly. “There’s too much to do.” She picked up the vase and, without a backward look, headed for the kitchen.
The two sisters watched until the door swung shut behind her. Then Frances turned to Rose.
“Do you think they’re from him?” she asked eagerly.
“Absolutely. Who else would be sending Rebecca flowers?”
“So our Rebecca really does have a beau,” Frances breathed in awe.
“Looks that way,” Rose affirmed. “Now let’s just hope she gives him a chance.”
“Rebecca, some friends of yours are here,” Frances announced as she came bustling into the kitchen to pick up the salad course. “That nice couple from St. Louis.”
“Nick and Laura?” Rebecca said in surprise, turning from the stove where she was stirring the sauce for chicken Madeira. Normally she checked the reservations, but she simply hadn’t had time today.
“Mmm-hmm,” Frances confirmed.
“Tell them I’ll stop by and say hello at dessert, would you?” Rebecca asked over her shoulder.
“Of course.”
Rebecca smiled as she added some lemon juice to the sauce. She didn’t get to see her childhood friend often enough. Laura’s business as a landscape architect was booming, and her free time was pretty much devoted to Nick, “the man of her dreams,” as she called him. And Rebecca couldn’t blame her. Nick Sinclair would make any woman’s heart beat faster. Rebecca didn’t know much about Laura’s first marriage, but apparently there had been serious problems of some sort. Serious enough that Brad, who was not only Laura’s friend but her minister, had once told Rebecca that he doubted whether Laura would ever remarry. But then along came Nick, who somehow convinced Laura to take a second chance on love.
Rebecca was happy for her. She remembered that even as children, Laura, who was several years older than Rebecca, had always taken it upon herself to watch out for her younger friend and make sure she was included in the games and activities. Rebecca never forgot her kindness, and she was truly happy that Laura had found her own Prince Charming. And she also had Laura to thank for getting Sam and her brother together. If Sam hadn’t been Laura’s maid of honor, Sam and Brad might never have found each other. The Lord really did work in mysterious—and wondrous—ways, Rebecca reflected with a smile.
An hour later, as Rebecca put the finishing touches on the chocolate mousse with zabaglione, she was glad once again that she limited dinner service to a single seating on Friday and Saturday nights. Until she could afford to hire another chef, one seating was all she could manage. And when she had a full house—as she did more and more often lately—she was a zombie by Saturday night. But it was satisfying to know that her efforts were paying dividends, and not a day went by that she didn’t give thanks for her success.
Rebecca stepped back and surveyed the forty servings of dessert, nodding in approval. They were picture-perfect. She shrugged out of her apron, and as Rose and Frances entered the kitchen with two of the high school students who helped out on weekends, she picked up two servings of dessert and stepped into the dining room. Her gaze immediately went to Nick and Laura’s “special” table, the same one they’d sat at on their first visit, in the early stage of their relationship. They always asked for it when they made reservations.
As she joined them, Nick rose and pulled out a chair for her.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “But I’m not staying long. I don’t like to intrude on my guests’ dinner.”
“Oh, Rebecca, we want to visit a little,” Laura assured her. “We hardly ever get to see you anymore.”
“Life is busy. What can I say?” she replied with a grin. “And I’m not complaining. In this business, busy is good.”
“Mmm, I can see why you’re busy, with desserts like these,” Laura complimented her, closing her eyes as she savored the rich, creamy confection.
“I’ll second that,” Nick added appreciatively.
“It’s a good thing we don’t come here too often, though, or my figure would certainly suffer. Not that it will matter soon, anyway,” Laura said, smiling tenderly at Nick, who took her hand in a gentle clasp, his eyes warm and caressing as he gazed at her.
Rebecca glanced from one to the other as suspicion turned to certainty. “Does that mean what I think it does?” she asked with a smile.
Laura looked back at Rebecca, her eyes shining. “Yes,” she replied softly. “Our first little one is on the way.”
Rebecca reached over and took Laura’s free hand. “I’m so happy for you,” she told her sincerely, her gaze encompassing them both. “When’s the big day?”
“October 4, according to the doctor. It seems like such a long way off, but I know the time will fly. And I can’t wait to decorate the nursery!”
Rebecca felt her throat constrict at the glow of happiness on Laura’s face, and she blinked rapidly. She was thrilled for Laura, of course. Just as she had been for Sam. But once again, being in the presence of such a committed, loving couple only served to remind her of her own solitary life. She forced herself to smile, and with one final squeeze of Laura’s hand, she stood up. She needed to escape to the kitchen, take a moment to compose herself.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone to celebrate. You obviously have lots of exciting things to discuss.”
Nick stood up, as well, and took Rebecca’s hand. “It was wonderful seeing you again,” he said warmly. “And the food, as always, was superb.”
“Thank you, Nick.”
“Keep in touch, okay, Rebecca?” Laura requested.
“Of course. And if nothing else, I’m sure I’ll get regular updates from Brad and Sam. Good luck, Laura. I’ll keep you in my prayers.”
“Thanks, Becka,” Laura replied warmly, reverting to her friend’s childhood nickname.
Rebecca turned away and walked unseeingly toward the kitchen, struggling to hold her tears at bay, berating herself for indulging in such blatant self-pity. She had so much to be thankful for. It was wrong to feel sorry for herself. Just because she’d never found someone who had the key to unlock her heart didn’t mean…
“Hello, Rebecca.”
Rebecca stopped abruptly and glanced toward the voice that had haunted her dreams for the past week. Zach Wright was sitting alone at a secluded corner table. She swallowed and brushed her hand across her eyes before moving toward him, trying to compose herself and discreetly erase evidence of her teary state. Which was difficult to do when her respiration had suddenly gone berserk and her eyes still felt misty.
Zach watched Rebecca approach, his discerning eyes missing nothing as they raked over her face. She was upset. Almost in tears, in fact, although she was struggling mightily to conceal that fact. He’d watched her interacting with the couple at the table across the room, and she’d been smiling and happy then. Their parting had been warm