Page 88 of Nineteen Letters
“How have you been, sweet girl? We heard about what happened, and my wife and I were shaken by the news.”
Jemma smiles awkwardly and retreats a step. I see Naomi elbow him in the side and I have to roll my lips to hide my amusement.
“I’m doing okay,” she answers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. That’s when I notice she’s not only wearing her memory bracelet on her wrist, but also the shell earrings I gave her when we were kids.
“Come on, Matthew,” says Naomi, “leave them be. I have your table ready,” she finishes, turning to me.
“Only the best table in the house for our favourite customers,” Matt adds.
They lead us out to their private dining area on the balcony, overlooking a clear, uninterrupted view of the ocean. She wasn’t kidding about the best seats in the house.
I had booked this same table for our nineteen-day anniversary, the day of Jemma’s accident. It has taken us longer than I planned to make it here, but finally, the night has come.
I pull Jemma’s chair out for her when we reach the table. “Always such a gentleman,” Naomi states, elbowing Matt in the ribs. “You could learn a thing or two from him, Matthew Sutherland.”
“Do we know these people well?” Jemma asks when we’re finally alone.
“We used to dine here often.”
“Oh. They seem nice.”
“They’re good people.”
I watch her as her eyes move around the space. The old Jem would do that everywhere we went. “The view from here is spectacular.”
“It’s breathtaking,” I reply, looking straight at her.
“I love the way this place is decorated.”
“Would you be surprised if I told you that you decorated it?”
Her eyes widen. “No way. Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
She looks around in wonderment. “I’m impressed that I did this. It has a very nautical feel to it. The perfect décor for a seafood restaurant.”
“That’s the look you were going for.” She decorated it in a similar colour scheme to our own home: whites, blues, and a hint of yellow here and there. “You have an amazing talent for interior design.”
She goes quiet and I notice her gaze moves down to her lap, so I reach for her hand across the table.
“I secretly knew you’d been dying to get your hands on this place when Naomi and Matt took over. You hated how mismatched the old décor was.”
She giggles before squeezing my hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. I’m not sure where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for you. You keep me sane.”
I let go of her hand and sit back in my chair when the waitress approaches. She places a Corona with a wedge of lime in front of me, and to Jemma she presents a tall glass that contains ice and a dark orange liquid. It’s garnished with a piece of lemon and one of those tiny umbrellas. We both thank her before she turns and leaves.
“Did we order these?” Jemma asks.
“No. We’re here a lot and Naomi knows what we like, so they never bother taking our order.”
She picks up her glass and takes a sip of her drink. “Yum. What is this?”
“Vodka, lemon, lime and bitters.”
