Page 82 of Until the Storm Breaks
“The night is young,” Alex grins.
A server appears at Theo’s elbow with menus. “Should I tell you about tonight’s specials?”
“Actually,” Theo glances at Alex, who nods almost imperceptibly, some silent brother communication passing between them. “What do you think about doing the tasting menu? If you’re up for it? It’s seven courses that Alex has been perfecting.”
“Sounds perfect,” Calvin says, looking at me for confirmation. “Maren?”
“Are you kidding? Yes,” I say, probably too eagerly. “I’ve been dying to try it. Eleanor came in last week and wouldn’t shut up about some beet thing Alex made that apparently changed her life.”
“The beet carpaccio with goat cheese mousse,” Alex says, clearly pleased. “That’s course three tonight, actually.”
“Then I’m definitely in,” I say, and Alex grins before heading toward the kitchen.
The courses start arriving almost immediately, each one somehow better than the last. An architectural salad with microgreens and edible flowers that’s almost too pretty to eat, followed by seared scallops with a brown butter sauce that makes me close my eyes to savor it. A pasta with truffle cream that makes me reconsider everything I thought I knew about food.
Between the fourth and fifth courses, we’ve relaxed into trading stories. Alex tells about the time Calvin got stuck on the roof trying to retrieve a frisbee and had to wait three hours for the fire department. Calvin counters with Alex’s attempt to impress a girl by cooking dinner that ended with the smoke alarm and an evacuation. Theo moderates like always, laughing at both of them while occasionally throwing in his own embarrassing memories about that disastrous family camping trip where they forgot the tent poles.
“Remember that vacation to the coast?” Alex says, wiping hiseyes from laughing. “When Mom tried to convince us that hiking ten miles in the rain would be ‘character building?’”
“We all got so sick,” Calvin adds, shaking his head. “Even she admitted it was a mistake.”
“After we got home,” Theo corrects. “During the hike she kept insisting we were having fun.”
“‘Adventure is just discomfort viewed later with nostalgia,’” they all say in unison, clearly quoting Susan, and then they’re laughing again.
“Speaking of Mom,” Theo says when the laughter dies down, his expression shifting to something more serious. He looks at me directly. “Maren, we wanted to apologize. About the way the whole housing situation has been handled. The cabins, the sale, you not knowing until it was basically done. It wasn’t right.”
Calvin’s hand finds mine under the table, warm and steady. I can feel him wanting to jump in, to defend me, but he waits.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I say, and I mean it. The truth is, I understand why things happened the way they did. They were grieving, trying to manage an estate, dealing with Dominic’s legal authority. It’s messy and complicated and there’s no villain here, just a difficult situation. “I know you couldn’t really tell me before it was finalized. It’s a complicated situation.”
“It’s still not right,” Alex says, pushing his water glass in small circles on the table. “Mom would have hated this. The way it’s all gone down, I mean. She talked about you like family, and then we go and basically evict you without warning.”
“Two months isn’t eviction,” I point out, trying to lighten the mood slightly. “And honestly, maybe it’s time. I’ve been in that cabin for ten years. That’s a long time to be in such a small place. Originally it wasn’t supposed to be so permanent.”
But even as I say it and know there’s truth in it, my chest tightens. Ten years of morning coffee on that little porch while looking out at the Puget Sound, of watching the seasons changethrough those windows, of feeling safe in my small corner of the world.
“I still want to try to find a solution,” Calvin says, leaning forward slightly. “I just can’t accept our childhood home being bulldozed for some wellness center. And Maren losing her home in the process? There has to be another way. Maybe we can negotiate with the buyers, carve out the cabins from the sale, something.”
“Calvin, really, it’s okay,” I start, but he shakes his head.
“It’s not okay. None of this is okay. Mom and Dad built that house. We all grew up there. And you,” he looks at me, “you’ve made that cabin your home. You shouldn’t have to leave because some big company wants to build a meditation dome or whatever they’re planning.”
Theo and Alex exchange a look. Another one of those silent brother conversations that happens in milliseconds.
“Listen, Cal,” Theo says slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “If you really want to try to stop this or change it, I’ll talk to Dom about delaying things. Maybe we can buy some time, see if there are other options.”
Calvin nods, his expression softening. “Thanks, Theo. That would help. Maybe if we both talk to him, he’ll at least consider alternatives. I know he’s got the legal authority, but he’s still our brother.”
“Good luck with that,” Alex says, not unkindly. “You know how he is once he’s made a decision.”
“I know,” Calvin says. “But I have to try.”
“Okay, enough heavy stuff,” Alex declares, pushing back from the table slightly. “We need dessert. Life’s too short to skip the sweet course, especially when Theo’s pastry chef is having a good week.”
“That sounds great,” I say, grateful for the shift.
Dessert arrives, a generous slice of tiramisu thick with mascarpone and espresso-soaked ladyfingers dusted withcocoa, alongside a blackberry lemon curd tart topped with fresh mint. I’m in heaven from the first bite.
