The light . . . is obscured by a cloud, the truth is not perceived.

Saint Augustine

Chapter Six

Ellyn

“Guess who jest make a reservation for tonight?”

I shrug. “No idea, who?”

“De Doctor. Dr. Becker—6:00 p.m., party of three.”

Three? I nod at Rosa. “Good.” I look at the clock above the desk. 5:14 p.m. “Busy night.” So Dr. Becker keeps his word. Not that it matters.

“Si.”

I walk back into the kitchen, Rosa on my heels. “Show time, Paco.”

“Let’s do it, Bella. Another Saturday night.”

“I let you know when he get here so you can say hello.” Rosa pushes through the swinging doors to the dining room before I can respond. Great.

“Paco, you’ve got to drop the Bella. Have some respect for my position as owner and executive chef. Your boss, remember?”

Paco laughs. “I know, Bella, I know.”

I love the banter with Paco, a man who loves his wife and kids more than dessert. Just as it should be. We’ve worked together for eight years and settled into our routine early on.

As far as me being the boss, we all know it’s Rosa who runs the place and keeps us in line.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” I head back to the office, grab my purse out of the top filing cabinet drawer, and pull out my compact and lipstick. I open the compact, brush some of the matte powder across my nose, cheeks, and chin. It sounds like Rosa will have me make the rounds in the dining room tonight, so I might as well be ready. I don’t take a second look into the small mirror. Instead, I reach for a clean apron and then head back to work.

Thirty or so minutes later, Rosa pops back into the kitchen and tells me there’s a new woman having dinner here.

“Okay, and that’s unusual because?”

“Because she staying here for a year. She might become regular if you nice to her. You come say hello.”

I look at Paco, eyebrows raised.

“Go ahead, everything’s under control.”

I look around the kitchen—he’s right. It’s the lull before the storm. I take off my apron, toss it over a stool, and follow Rosa to the dining room. Patrons are just beginning to come in. Rosa heads to a corner table near the window, where a woman sits alone. She seems familiar . . .

Ah yes. The woman I saw in Dr. Becker’s waiting room on Monday.

“Dis is our executive chef and owner of Ellyn’s—Ellyn DeMoss.”

I hold out my hand. “Hello.”

She looks at me, a question on her face, and then recognition. “Hello, I saw you in the doctor’s office on Monday, right?”

“Right. Rosa tells me you’re new to town?”

She reaches out her hand and clasps mine. “Yes, I’ve rented a house here for a year. After that, who knows?” Just like in the doctor’s office, I see something in her eyes that I can’t read, though her smile seems genuine this evening. “I’m Sabina Jackson.”

“You two can be friends. Two single women alone in dis town. You need each other.”

I shake my head. Rosa—the Queen of Relationships.

Sabina is quick to respond. “Oh, I’m not single, but I’m here alone. So it’s good to get to know a few people.”

I nod. “Well, please, come in any time. And if you need anything while you’re here, just call.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back. I’m not much of a cook myself.”

“I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

I turn to go and see Dr. Becker and a woman walk in the front door.

Too late to hide. Oh, why can’t I be invisible? Boy, he’s dating a young one.

Then another woman comes in the door behind them—Nerissa Boaz.

“Hi, Ellyn.” The young woman says.

Dr. Becker looks from me to the young woman at his side. “You two know one another?”

I look again and smile. Of course. The tattoo. “Twila, hi. I’m glad to see you.” I smile at Dr. Becker. “Twila and I met at Corners of the Mouth recently.”

“Great. That’s where we met too.” He turns and motions Nerissa forward and drapes an arm around her shoulders. “You two must also know each other.” He looks down at Nerissa.

“Of course.” Nerissa steps forward and gives me a hug. “Like many of the chefs in the village, Ellyn pops in from time to time to pick up some last-minute produce.”

Well, aren’t they a cozy little group. “I haven’t seen you in the store in a while, Nerissa.”

“I’m not there as often as I used to be. I’m doing more consulting with clients.”

And consorting with doctors, it seems.

“When my wife, Sarah, was . . . sick, Nerissa helped me put together a diet to help treat her.”

“Oh . . .” I exhale—something I don’t think I’ve done since they walked in. “Twila, I’ll see what kind of vegan dish I can put together for you.”

“Thanks.” She looks, wide-eyed, around the restaurant. “Wow, this is really cool. I love the vibe.”

“Thanks.” I laugh. “Come to think of it, I kind of like the vibe too.” I look around the dining room and try to see it through Twila’s eyes.

“I’ll have whatever you make for Twila.”

“Are you a vegan too, Dr. Becker?”

He smiles, “It’s Miles, please. No, I don’t follow a vegan diet as a rule, but I figure it’s good for me once in awhile.”

“Well, I hate to turn customers away, but maybe you should have gone up to Raven’s.”

“Raven’s is good, but we wanted to come here. Just a salad will work for me, how about you, gal?” He looks down at Twila again.

“Sure, whatever.”

Nerissa chimes in. “You know me, Ellyn, I’ll eat anything you cook. I couldn’t do it on a daily basis, but when I want to splurge, I want you to be the one doing the cooking.”

“Well, thanks.” I look back at Twila. “I’m sure I can come up with something besides a salad. Rosa will seat you and I’ll head back to the kitchen. Nice to see you all again.”

Rosa’s been standing in the background. If she knew about Dr. Becker and Nerissa, she didn’t mention it to me. Didn’t I just tell her to keep me filled in on the local gossip?

Rosa comes forward with three menus in her hand. “Right dis way, Doctor.”

I turn back to the kitchen and slip through the swinging doors. “Paco!” I hiss his name. “What can we put together for two vegan dishes?” I think through what’s on our menu for this week. “What about the ravioli with the fresh tomatoes and crisp vegetables?”

It has to be good. No, it has to be great.

“They’re cheese raviolis—asiago and romano.”

“Yes, but we can use the tomatoes and vegetables on something else. Listen, Corners is open until 8:00. Run down there now, and I mean run! Get some polenta. I’ll substitute the polenta for the ravioli and in the meantime, I’ll make them a salad of greens and . . . something. Go, Paco, go!”

“Si, Bella. I’ll go. But who are we serving? The president?

“Just go!” I push him toward the back door. The president. Ridiculous. My heart races in my chest—as fast as I hope Paco races to Corners.

But then, that’s silly. It isn’t as if Dr. Becker hasn’t eaten here before. I take a deep breath and look around for Rosa, but don’t see her.

Good thing it was just Paco who noticed my . . . my what? My whatever. Rosa would never let me hear the end of it.