Chapter 2
Hayley sat at her kitchen table, staring wistfully at her phone as Bruce and her daughter Gemma, who now lived and worked in New York City, breezed across Washington Square Park at dusk, the majestic arch at the foot of Fifth Avenue in the background, both their faces pushed in close in front of the camera phone.
“I wanted to take him to an awesome spaghetti joint I’m obsessed with in Little Italy, but he said he’s had his fill of Italian lately, so we’re going to my favorite French place on Bleecker Street,” Gemma yelled into the phone. “Then we’re going to go see Conner’s show uptown.”
Conner was Gemma’s fiancé, an up-and-coming Broadway actor who was currently enjoying success in a revival of Fiddler on the Roof playing the Russian student Fyedka, who romances the lead character Tevya’s daughter Chava. He had perfected a Russian accent, which he eagerly showed off to Hayley during a number of Zoom calls.
“I promised Gemma I won’t nod off like I usually do during any kind of long musical,” Bruce said.
“Just make sure you stay awake during Conner’s solo. He knows exactly where we’re sitting, so I’m sure he’ll have his eyes trained right on us.” Gemma laughed.
“I’m jealous,” Hayley sighed. “I wish I was there with you two right now.”
“Me too, babe,” Bruce said with a wink. “What are your big plans for tonight?”
“Liddy and Mona are on their way over for dinner. I’m doing a dry run preparing my spaghetti carbonara before the face-off with Chef Romeo tomorrow afternoon,” Hayley said. “I need to get the dish perfect, or I will never live it down.”
“I’m not even going to pretend to know what you’re talking about, Mother,” Gemma said, chuckling.
“I’ll explain everything over dinner,” Bruce said.
“We’re coming up on the restaurant now. Bye, Mom!”
Hayley waved at them. “Goodbye! Enjoy! Love you both!”
“I’ll call you after court is dismissed tomorrow,” Bruce promised, waving back.
And then they were gone.
Hayley felt a little lump in her throat.
With her husband and daughter gallivanting all over Manhattan, having a wonderful time after months of painstaking worry about Gemma and Conner’s safety there during the pandemic, Hayley found this moment bittersweet. She, of course, was excited to see Gemma thriving in the big city, her wedding plans with Conner restarted, her career as a food critic and columnist back on track, and she was happy for Bruce to be covering possibly the biggest assignment of his career, but at the same time, she felt stuck at home alone, missing out on these memorable moments.
But instead of feeling sorry for herself, Hayley stood up from the kitchen table and got to work on her spaghetti carbonara, whisking the eggs and cheese together in a bowl and frying the bacon in a pan on the stove until brown and crispy. She popped open a bottle of Pinot Grigio, which, in her opinion, was the perfect companion to her pasta recipe, and as if on cue, Liddy and Mona ambled through the back door, hands out for glasses of wine. By the time she had stirred in the garlic, pasta, egg mixture, and was seasoning with salt and pepper to taste, the three women were on their second glass. Doling out a healthy portion of the carbonara for all of them, they sat down at the dining room table, Hayley anxiously awaiting the verdict.
“Well?” Hayley asked, eyeing both of them as Mona shoveled a forkful into her mouth.
“Oh, Hayley, it’s divine,” Liddy cooed.
“Thank you, Liddy, but you would say that no matter what. Mona is the one I really trust because she never holds back punches.”
Mona swallowed, stared straight ahead, and then slowly nodded. “Not bad.”
“High praise indeed,” Liddy cracked.
“No, you don’t understand,” Hayley said happily. “Coming from Mona, that’s a rave review.”
Mona’s mouth suddenly dropped open, her eyes watering, and she quickly buried her face in her elbow and erupted in a giant sneeze, startling both Hayley and Liddy.
“I’d go easy on the pepper next time,” Mona suggested.
“Noted,” Hayley said.
Liddy twirled some more spaghetti on her fork and shook her head. “I don’t understand why this Chef Romeo is making you jump through hoops to prove you make a better spaghetti carbonara. What’s the point?”
“He’s very competitive and he’s used to being the best, so when I challenged him . . . well, his ego couldn’t resist calling me out to prove it,” Hayley said, before taking another bite of her dish, savoring it. “It is really good, isn’t it?”
Mona reached for the bottle of white wine and upended the rest into her own glass before slamming it back down on the table. “Got any more of this?”
“Yes, in the pantry,” Hayley said, standing up from the table and removing the empty wine bottle from the table.
Mona gulped down the rest of her wine.
“Don’t you have to be up at like four in the morning to haul your lobster traps tomorrow?” Liddy asked, eyebrows raised.
Mona shook her head. “Is that your way of saying I’m drinking too much?”
“No, that goes without saying,” Liddy quipped. “I’m just asking.”
Hayley was in the kitchen uncorking the bottle of wine, but could still hear their exchange.
“Well, my boys are covering for me for a while,” Mona muttered, not exactly overjoyed to be sharing this news.
“Why? Are you taking a vacation?” Hayley asked as she returned to the dining room with the fresh bottle of wine.
“Nope. They keep yammering on about how they’re grown men now and can run the business, and how it doesn’t make sense for their dear, aging mother to be doing so much hard labor,” Mona snorted. “Can you believe that nonsense?”
Hayley poured Liddy some more wine.
Liddy swished it around in her glass as she spoke. “Yes, I can! Your sons are big, strong, strapping men now, fully capable of the physical demands of running a successful lobstering business. Why should you and your tired, crumbling old bones be out on that rickety, leaking boat in the icy waters of the Atlantic every day at some ungodly hour?”
“It’s all I know!” Mona wailed.
“You can still run the business from home,” Hayley said. “Take orders over the phone, look after the books . . .”
“You both know I flunked every math class they made me take in high school. Besides, my daughter Clara’s much smarter than me when it comes to numbers. I let her keep track of all that. If I stop hauling traps, I won’t know what to do with myself.”
“Find yourself a hobby,” Liddy said.
“I’m not the knitting circle type, okay?” Mona moaned.
Hayley reached over and lightly touched Mona’s hand. “Look, all we’re saying is, maybe it’s time to take a step back, just a bit. Relax and enjoy your life a little more.”
“I’m bored already just thinking about it,” Mona spit out, glowering.
“You should be grateful you can afford to do it,” Liddy said. “The real estate market has been in the toilet lately. I haven’t had a sale in months; I’m bleeding money; I have credit card payments overdue; I am close to the point of having to augment my income with a second job. Maybe I should be the one out there hauling traps.”
Hayley and Mona exchanged a look, then busted up laughing.
“All right, it sounded just as ridiculous to me as I heard myself saying it, but I’m going to have to do something soon or I’ll be filing for bankruptcy. I can just hear my mother now if it comes to that!” Liddy wailed.
“You could try living on a budget,” Mona suggested.
There was a tense silence in the dining room before Liddy exhaled a long breath. “I am just going to pretend you did not say that.”
Mona lifted her glass, toasted Liddy, then gulped down the rest of her wine.
Hayley sat back in her chair. “My whole adult life I have always been on the lookout for ways to make more money, but over the last couple of years all of that has suddenly changed. Marrying Bruce essentially doubled our income; I’ve got an empty nest with the kids gone and on their own; and well . . . financially speaking, things have gotten easier, but . . .”
“But what?” Liddy asked.
“I don’t know. Something’s missing. Don’t get me wrong: I never expected to get married again, but I love being married to Bruce. That’s not it . . .” Hayley sipped her wine thoughtfully. “I guess I wish my job at the Island Times was more fulfilling.”
“You can’t quit your column!” Liddy cried. “Do you know how many people all over the island can’t wait to read you every day!”
“It’s not the columns! That’s my favorite part of the job. It’s the office managerial duties. They’ve become so monotonous and, not to be too dramatic, but a little soul-crushing. I’m so tired of handling customers’ subscription complaints, and even more demeaning, keeping the coffeepot full throughout the day.”
“Sal would be lost without you,” Mona remarked.
Hayley nodded. “I know . . .”
“So what are you going to do?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. The only plan I currently have is to kick Chef Romeo’s butt tomorrow with this spaghetti carbonara recipe! Which reminds me—there is enough for three more helpings.”
Liddy threw her hands up in the air. “Ladies, we all know excessive carbs solve nothing!”
Hayley collected their plates and headed back to the kitchen, overhearing Mona say, “No, a salad solves nothing. Spaghetti carbonara solves everything!”