Page 59 of You Had Me at Merlot

Courtney looked thoughtful. “My dad was an asshole. You saw firsthand. There’s a part of me that wished he’d been missing from my life. Maybe yours did you a favor.”

“Either way. I’d like him to answer a few questions for me. Acknowledge my existence for five seconds.” She set down her glass with purpose. “He’s lived what looks to be a fantastic life. Success in politics, a happy little family of four, and then there’s me, his dirty little secret. Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Courtney said with fire in her eyes. “You deserve more.”

“And so did you, by the way. At least yours set us all up financially. Left you an empire to run.”

“Let’s not give him too much credit.” She watched Leighton with concern slashed across her features. “Whatever happens, I hope it helps rather than hurts.”

Leighton thought on the sentiment. “I don’t think he can make things any worse, but we’ll see.”

“Dads.” Courtney shook her head and leaned in. “We might need another glass.”

* * *

Bordeauxnuts Too, as Jamie had officially named the new place, was nearly ready to meet the public. She liked that the sign in front let folks know that this location was a sequel, maybe prompt them to check out the original if they were ever in the neighborhood. The countdown was on, and the excitement was brimming. After two months of mild remodeling, heavy decorating, a new coat of paint, equipment delivery, intermittent staff training, and lots of her own sweat and love, she couldn’t have been happier with the result. The space with all its dark wood and high ceilings was exactly what she wanted. Cozy. Happy. Somewhere you want to stay awhile while you read a book of poetryor knit a scarf, like Marjorie. She surveyed the dining area, complete with matching light brown and dark brown tables, imagining who the new Marjorie might be and how long it would take for new regulars to assemble.

“I don’t want there to be a new Marjorie,” Marjorie had said earlier that morning with a pout. Most of the other regulars, except for Marvin in his corner, had packed up and headed off in different directions, but Marjorie hung back until after lunchtime, which signaled she had something on her mind. “What if she’s cooler than me? She probably cut a good five inches off her hair and has taken up swimming in the evenings. She looks like a million bucks now. She might have a secret lover. I can’t keep up with new Marjorie. I give up.” She sat back in a frustrated huff. These days, she’d swapped knitting for crossword puzzles. Her pencil rolled to the edge of the table and plummeted, much like Marjorie’s mood.

“Nope. No new Marjorie. I checked under all the chairs,” Jamie said from behind the drink station as she wiped down the equipment during the midafternoon lull, a routine. “You’ll have to represent all Marjories.”

She didn’t seem placated. Marjorie rested her chin in her hands. “I’m afraid once the new shop opens, you’re going to spend more time there and forget all about us. We’ll be the also-rans. I depend on this place, Jamie, and you’re part of that.”

Jamie frowned and came around in front of the counter. “It’s impossible that I would ditch any of you. This bar is my first baby. I just have two children to keep track of now. I don’t love either one more than the other.”

“Listen. Hell’s Kitchen is no Chelsea. She’ll be here more than there,” Marvin said with a shrug. “Who wouldn’t be? The sheer number of people uptown gives me palpitations.”

But Jamie had to admit that change was part of life in the hospitality business. The crew of regulars also had an ever-changing status, which was par for the café course. People moved into the group, and others moved out. Lives, plans, and trajectories changed. She only glimpsed Lisa and Chun once every couple of weeks now that they’d focused their flipping efforts on Brooklyn properties. But Naomi, a student at NYU, had taken to using a table near the front of the dining area for studying. After a few weeks of audition, the others had readily addedher to their routine conversation. She was the quietest one in the group, but when she did contribute, her words were always valuable.

Naomi looked up from a bioscience textbook with a serene smile. “Bordeauxnuts is not going anywhere. It’s spreading its wings and so is Jamie. I’m here for it.”

Jamie pointed at her. “This is why we’re keeping you. No new Naomis.”

And now here she stood in the new bar, days from the soft opening, with butterflies dancing in her stomach and excitement radiating from every pore.

“Will your parents be swinging by for your big opening?” Leighton asked, watching Jamie test out the new doughnut maker on the back counter. She’d sprung for the newer model and was impressed with its speed.

“You can sayours. It’s okay. Want to try one?”

Leighton closed her eyes. “You know I can’t say no to these things. I keep waiting for you to disclose their doughy narcotic center.”

Jamie dusted cinnamon sugar onto the doughnut and passed Leighton the napkin. “No drugs involved.”

She smiled at her new doughnut friend “Ouropening, then. I feel important all of a sudden, and kind of guilty because all I did was put up cash.”

“We aren’t here without cash. And we will most assuredly see my mother. Couldn’t keep her away, even with the promise of a dozen puppies. Not that I’d want to.”

“I remember you telling me once upon a time that your dad used to swing by daily for an Americano. Not anymore? What happened?”

“A lot actually, and rather quickly.” Jamie smiled, mid-counter wipe down. “I would give anything for him to swing by, but he passed a year and a half ago.”

“Oh no. That day on the bench. The test results?”

The space went silent. “Yeah, it wasn’t good for a long time after that. Then we lost him.”

Leighton shook her head in shock. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” The sincere sorrow that crossed her features tugged at Jamie’s heart. “I feel awful for asking.”

“It’s okay.” She walked over and gave Leighton’s hand a squeeze, which actually softened the room noticeably. “My dad’s still with me. Ifeel him every day, arguing with me about whether to take ten minutes for Wordle or get to work without having to rush.”

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