The next day, Rachel and Nate take me to the building they’re going to rent for their new business.
“Nate had the idea,” Rachel tells me as she pulls into the parking lot of an upscale strip mall. “A café with a play-care area. There are tons of young kids in Wallanan. Lots of moms and dads. Nate thought, with my experience in food and his in business, we could really have something. We’d start out with only breakfast and lunch and coffee and snacks, and then we could eventually phase it into a kid-friendly dinner place. I was even thinking of calling it Kid Friendly, but Nate wants to call it Rachel’s.”
“I think it sounds more personal,” Nate says. “Plus, the place is going to have Rachel’s heart. It might as well have her name.”
Rachel laces her fingers through his. “We just signed a lease on the space,” she tells me. “See, there’s a great kids clothing store here, and a day spa. Places moms come all the time. We need to do some renovation work on it. We want to open by February.” She squeezes Nate’s hand in her excitement. “Nate will handle most of the business end. And I’ll be testing recipes for the next couple of months and over Christmas. It would be a fun time to be a houseguest, hint hint!”
We get out of the car. Rachel gets the keys out and opens the door. I guess I don’t have much imagination, because all I see is a big empty space.
Rachel taps a heel on the floor. “We’re putting in a new floor; this carpet has to go. And our idea is to have a little raised platform over here—kids love that—with chutes they can climb up and down on. You can sit here and have your coffee, or your salad, and watch your kid play… And here is the kitchen, and we’re going to redo the bathrooms. We’ve got the best contractor in town. You have to give him a hefty deposit, but we’ve nailed him for December…” Rachel spins around. “You could be a waitress, Gracie! And go to school here, and live with us…”
And I can see it. I can see going to that gleaming school, and biking over here and tying an apron over my jeans, and bringing nice moms like Rachel their chicken salads and their balsamic vinaigrettes. I can see living in that third-floor bedroom, getting to know my dad, starting all over in a new place, with the person who should have been at my side from the beginning.
Nate smiles at Rachel and turns to me. “No pressure, Gracie. Of course we want you here, but we know you have a life on Beewick.”
“Of course,” Rachel says. “I just want her to know that she’s welcome.”
Nate slings an arm around my shoulders. “I hope she knows that already.”
I feel his arm on my shoulders, and for once, I don’t flinch. I like feeling the weight of it.
We head for the door, but a balding middleaged man is coming in, a ring of keys dangling from his fist. “Rachel, Nate, how are you?”
“Howard, it’s nice to see you,” Rachel says. “We were just doing some planning of the space.”
“Good, good. Listen, I just thought I’d speak to you, because I didn’t get your check. I’m sure it’s an oversight, but…”
“But we mailed it last week,” Rachel says, frowning.
“Uh, no, we didn’t, honey,” Nate says. “Totally my fault, Howard. I had it in my pocket and I forgot to do it. I found it this morning and dropped it off at your office. I left it with your secretary. It should be there.”
“Okay, I’m sure Monique forgot to tell me. Enjoy your day, folks.”
Rachel and Nate start out, and we wait while she locks the door.
He lied.
I know it. I can feel it. I can feel the lie.
Things tumble in my brain, things I don’t want to face.
You don’t know him. Don’t make him into something that you want him to be.
Something here isn’t right. And I have to find out what it is.