Page 123 of Summer After Summer

“James invited me.”

“You know what I mean.”

His shoulders sag as he adds ingredients to the pan. “I’m not sure this is the time to get into all of that.”

“What should we talk about, then?”

“I have no idea.”

I sigh. “Tell me about James. Tell me about his saving your life.”

He picks up a spatula as the pan sizzles, the smell of cooking onions already making me ravenous. “We were in a bad swell, and I was topside when I shouldn’t have been. James came looking for me, saw me get swept off. He acted quickly, getting the rescue rope, but then it got tangled in his leg. Each time I was pulling it, it was squeezing him, you see?”

He reaches above him for plates, like he knew they were there all along, and then divides the omelet in two, slipping half onto each plate. He turns around and puts one in front of me. There’s a container of cutlery in the middle of the island, and I reach for a fork.

“You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I didn’t. He pulled me out, but his leg was ruined. They wanted to amputate, but he insisted they keep it. He rehabbed it for years, but it hasn’t gotten much better.”

I dig into the omelet. It’s as good as the lunch. Better. “This is fantastic.”

He takes a bite, then another one, two, three. “I needed this.”

“I was hungry too.”

He takes another bite. “Anyway, then his fiancée got sick while he was in rehab oversees in Germany, and he didn’t make it back in time. So, he lost everything there for a while.”

“That’s a lot.”

“It is.”

“Did you help him with this place? Give him the money?”

“What makes you think that?”

I look down at my plate as I cut the omelet into smaller pieces, then eat them quickly. “It’s something you’d do, I think.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Really?”

His tone softens. “Top five for sure.”

We stare at each other for a beat too long, and a warning bell goes off in my head. I clear my throat and spear another piece of the omelet. “The investment?”

“I did invest in it, yes. I wanted him to be able to start over. And he was always talking about having a winery when we were serving together. It was their dream. His and Franny’s.”

“A nice dream.”

“It was. It is.”

Fred finishes his omelet. “Would you think me a complete pig if I made another one of these?”

“I was just working up the courage to ask you to do it.”

“Ha.”

I hold out my plate. “Please sir, can I have some more?”

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