Page 63 of You Had Me at Merlot

Jamie downshifted, imagining the little girl with those big brown eyes that this man turned his back on and ignored for her entire life. What a contrast to the warmth her own father had shown her. Hugs each morning. Stories before bedtime. He’d taught her how to solve a Rubik’s Cube before she turned seven. Suddenly, the large apartment felt chilly and lonely in a whole new sense. Leighton had lost her mother a few years back, had never known her father or her half-siblings. She was, in a sense, on her own up in this tower. “I’m very sorry he did that to you. That wasn’t fair.” She felt the anger rise in her chest on Leighton’s behalf. Her nails dug into her palm.

“Thank you for saying that.” Leighton came to the sofa and took a seat, staring off into the night through the large window in front of them. The mood had definitely shifted, a weight hanging over them now. “I wrote him a letter.” She held up a finger to correct the statement. “I’ve actually written him many, many letters over the years, but this was the first one that I’ve mailed.”

“What did it say?” Jamie asked quietly, gazing at Leighton’s profile.

“I was sincere. Most of the others I’ve written were angry in tone. Not this time. I asked some questions about my family history, about his other children, and why he made the choices that he had regarding me and my mom.”

“Have you heard back?”

Leighton turned to look at Jamie, vulnerability and disappointment all over her face. “Nope.” She exhaled. “And here’s the thing that gets me. I wish I didn’t keep checking the damn mail every evening with a nervous stomach, but I do. I wish I didn’t imagine a parallel universewhere he was actually my dad and a part of my life, but I do that, too. I hate that I give him that kind of power.” She reached over and flipped the magazine closed, hiding her father’s face as if she couldn’t stand it another second. It made complete sense.

“I don’t think you should beat yourself up for being vulnerable. That makes you human.”

Leighton nodded but said nothing.

Jamie, in solidarity, took her hand and slid closer on the couch. Together, they looked out over the twinkling rooftops of the city, still alive, always pulsing with energy. “It’s going to be okay,” Jamie said softly a few minutes later.

“Thank you,” Leighton said, and though Jamie wasn’t sure, it looked like she wiped away a stray tear. Out of respect, she pretended not to notice, which didn’t mean that her heart wasn’t aching.

They stayed up late that night. Sitting quietly. Talking some. They even found their way back to laughter. In the end, it had been a truly nice evening together, and Jamie took pride in the strength of this newfound bond. Leighton mattered to her. And maybe all that happened between them was meant to bring them to this very moment. To each other.

* * *

There was one key difference between Bordeauxnuts in Chelsea and the new one, and that was the outdoor seating Jamie had been thrilled to add to the front of Bordeauxnuts Too. Well, that and the red and white awning that made her feel happy whenever she saw it. The property offered just enough outside space for four tables, two on either side of the door, and they already had seen a ton of use.

“Can I bring you a parasol, madame?” Jamie asked her mother as she placed a bowl of water in front of Pronto, the cutest looking little Chewbacca of a dog. Pronto was her mother’s new shadow and cuddle bug. He’d been groomed that week and had the most adorable fluffy hair and bangs.

“No, but can I have another one of whatever this thing is?” her mother asked, shaking the ice in her disposable cup. “And is it almost wine time? That’s my favorite time here.”

“It’s everyone’s favorite time. You know I’ll serve it whenever a customer asks, right?” Jamie placed a hand on her hip.

“No, I know that. But I like to wait until the café transforms, like a boring human morphing into a superhero.”

“Did you just call the coffee side of the bar boring?”

“What? No. I love the coffee side. That’s why I want another of this thingy.” Another ice rattle. “What is it again?”

“That’s a Holiday Spiced Iced Latte. I’ll get you another one.”

“I love this place. Don’t you?” her mother remarked to Pronto. “The service is just so good.”

Jamie laughed. “Not surprised. You’re literally the only human who gets table service.”

“I know. That’s why I come here.” She gestured to her dog, who now had one paw on top of her shoe. “Pronto approves, too. He likes the sun patches you so generously offer.”

“I snatched up this location just for him.” She scratched the dog’s head. “You’re a supermodel, Pronto. I dare anyone to argue.”

“Is Leighton coming by?” her mom asked. They’d run into each twice now at the café and had hit it off right away. “I want to tell her about the geraniums on my terrace. I brought a photo.”

“You’ve spent a collective two hours together and are best friends?”

“We’re birds of a feather.”

Jamie laughed. “A hardworking immigrant and a trust-fund baby. I see the parallels.” She was being a tad snarky and wasn’t sure why. But Jamie was aware that she constructed an invisible fence around Leighton. She loved spending time together, but she only let herself get so close. The trust just wasn’t there, and probably never would be to a full extent. Leighton’s bond with her mother felt a little like an encroachment on that barrier, making her squirm. Somehow, she would breathe her way through it. No harm, right?

“You’re just jealous that we bond over flowers and you struggle to keep yours alive. You should listen to our conversation sometimes. You might pick up a tip or two.”

“I killed two plants. Well, three, and now I’m a registered plant killer?”

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