Back to the Good Fortune Diner (29 page)

Tiffany upended the garbage bags of unpacked clothing in search of her good work clothes. She needed to get them cleaned and pressed right away. When she unearthed a bunch of pretty evening dresses, she remembered with a pang Chris’s invitation to Las Vegas. She couldn’t say no to the opportunity at Haute Docs. She’d have to turn him down.

Was it wrong to feel relief and guilt at the same time?

She picked up the phone.

“Chris,” she greeted, a lump rolling heavily around her stomach. “Listen...I’m sorry, I can’t make it for the weekend....”

“Of course,” he said quickly. “I should have asked earlier. I know your parents need you.”

She held her tongue. There was no point in telling Chris about the interview. She might not get the position, after all. It would be senseless to prepare him for something that might not even happen. “Summer is a busy time for the diner,” she said. The lump in her gut got heftier. “But you’ll tell John congratulations?”

“Of course. I’ll get to see you before I leave Saturday morning, though, right?”

“Sure.” She decided to keep her mouth shut about the interview for now. She didn’t want him brooding over it while he was in Vegas. He deserved to have worry-free fun.

Besides, he knew she’d never intended to stay, and they hadn’t talked about a future beyond the end of summer.

Why should she spoil what time they had left together? He would understand. In fact, he should be happy for her.

* * *

C
HRIS LUGGED HIS SUITCASE
down the stairs, a little less enthusiastic about his upcoming weekend in Vegas since Tiffany had told him she had obligations at the diner. A getaway was exactly what he needed, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her.

Simon was having breakfast at the dining-room table, reading George Orwell’s
1984—
a gift from Tiffany
.
Clover sat by his feet, watching his cereal bowl slowly empty. “You sure you don’t want to come?” he asked his son. “Last chance to see the Strip until you turn twenty-one.”

Simon looked up at him flatly. “No offense, Dad, but I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.”

Chris chuckled. He didn’t want to admit that he was kind of dreading being alone at this event. Ever since his divorce, his buddies had been trying to set him up with a series of comely female acquaintances. In the same way that a teenage son would have held the marriage hounds at bay, Tiffany would have been a good shield to hide behind. But she was more than that. Much more.

“Too bad Tiff couldn’t go with you.” Simon reached down and scratched the kitten’s chin.

“She’s working at her parents’ while her brother’s out of town. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Maybe I should go down to the diner and see if Mrs. Cheung wants to try me out for a few days.”

“That’s a good idea. Tiff will be there, so she can help train you.” Chris had consented to Simon taking on a job as long as it didn’t interfere with his studies and he could get to and from work safely. He’d work no more than ten hours a week. He’d talked with the Cheungs about it, as well. Tony was open to the idea, but stressed he couldn’t pay more than minimum wage plus free meals. Rose had reassured him they would train him properly, too. They actually sounded quite excited about it.

Chris also made it clear to Simon that if the Cheungs’ fighting made him uncomfortable, he had his permission to quit at any time. This part-time job was about learning and earning a little side money, not committing himself to a toxic environment.

Simon grinned. “I’ll give Cindy a call and see when she can bring me down.”

“All right.” He gave him a hug and slapped him on the back. “Take care of Grandpa while I’m away. Don’t let him feed you too much junk food. He shouldn’t be eating so much salt and fat.”

“I’m not a child,” William barked from the kitchen.

Chris went to the kitchen doorway. “Are you going to be okay for a few days?”

He glared. “In my day, we didn’t leave the farm during the busiest time of year.”

“I’m not missing John’s wedding, Dad.”

His father dismissed him with a wave. “Go on, then. Abandon your responsibilities and have a grand old time in Vegas. You’re not leaving anything important behind.”

But in fact, he was leaving something important behind. Tiffany had chosen to help her parents with their business over spending time with him. This was a good thing, he told himself staunchly. Maybe she was finally finding her place here and changing her mind about Everville. She might even find a reason to stay.

* * *

“
Y
OU PACKED WATER, RIGHT?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And a blanket? Flares? A road map?”

“Mom, I’m only driving to New Jersey.”

“But you’ll stop at least once for a break, right? You can’t stay on the road if you’re sleepy, you know.”

Tiffany summoned her patience. It was because Daniel was gone that Rose hovered. “I’ll be fine.”

“You probably thought that on your way driving here, and look how that turned out.” She shook her head. “Why couldn’t you take the bus instead?”

“Mom. I have to go now or I’m going to be late for the interview.”

“Right. Of course.” She looked her over, frowned. “You’re not going to wear
that
to your interview, are you?”

“Ah-Teen—”
Poh-poh
scurried after her and handed her a plastic bag
“—cha siu bow.”

Tiffany opened up the bag. A cloud of steam rose from the fresh barbecue pork buns within. “I thought you gave Daniel the last ones?”

Sunny made a noise that was half tsk, half snort. “Of course I saved some for you.
Ah-Day
looked like he needed to feel special, though, so I lied.”

She laughed and bussed her grandmother’s cheek and got in the car. She dropped her mother off at the diner. Her father had gone in earlier to do some prep work.

“Are you sure you don’t want to pop in and say hello to Dad?” Rose asked as Tiffany pulled up to the curb.

“Nah. Just tell him hi for me. I don’t want him to feel like both his kids are abandoning him.” She knew how petulant her father could be. “I’ll be back by dinnertime.” Part of her thought this would be a good opportunity to hang out in the city, eat at her favorite restaurant and enjoy the nightlife. But she couldn’t afford to stay overnight, and she didn’t want to drive home in the dark.

Her mother wished her good luck and shut the door. She settled herself, readjusted her mirrors and put on a nice long driving playlist on her iPod. “Magic Carpet Ride” came on, energizing her. She turned on her signal, checked her mirrors and started pulling away from the curb.

And nearly plowed straight into Simon as he crossed the street.

She jammed on the brakes and was thrown hard against her seat belt. He’d frozen midstep, and stared back at her wide-eyed. Her heart pumped hard. She started to lift her hand in a wave, but then realized she’d told the Jamiesons she’d be working.

He smiled tentatively and made some motions with his hands that clearly asked, “What’s up?”

Tiffany didn’t have a response. All the neurons in her brain were firing blanks.

Putting the car in gear once more, she pulled around him in a wide arc and sped toward New Jersey.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T
IFFANY DIDN’T COME HOME
in time for dinner. In fact, she didn’t come home until nearly eleven, after her mother and grandmother had been whipped into a frenzy.

“Why didn’t you call?” her mother demanded as she dropped her purse on the sofa. “
Poh-poh
was scared you were in another car accident.”

Tiffany settled her hands over her grandmother’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I’m okay. Really.” She couldn’t hide her smile any longer and took her mother’s hand. “I got the job.”

Sunny and Rose cheered and clapped their hands. They looked genuinely happy for her, and real pride swelled in Tiffany. She’d half expected they’d accuse her of abandoning the family. But they didn’t. Instead, they settled her at the kitchen table, pulling out all the dinner leftovers from the fridge and insisting she eat and tell them about the new position.

She would start next week. Caitlyn wanted her in as soon as possible, and was so enthusiastic about having her work there that she’d gone ahead and arranged a few showings for apartments in the area with friends’ properties. Tiffany couldn’t say no to such an accommodating boss, so she’d happily gone on a whirlwind apartment hunt. That was why she’d been so late getting home.

It wasn’t until close to midnight that she had a moment to think about Chris. Now wasn’t the best time to be telling him her news. He was probably still at the wedding reception, dancing with a bridesmaid and taking advantage of the open bar. Or cruising along the Strip in a limo. Or winning big money at a high-stakes poker game at the Bellagio, all while wearing a tuxedo and flashing fancy silver cuff links.

She smiled at the thought, because she could hardly imagine Chris doing any of those things. When she pictured him, it was always in jeans and a T-shirt, boots caked with dirt, sweat on his brow and bits of grass caught in the dark gold stubble on his dimpled chin. She tried to imagine him rumbling away on his old motorcycle, but it didn’t seem to fit with his persona anymore. The boy she’d crushed on had grown into a man she was falling for....

A full-body shudder rippled through her like an earthquake. She wasn’t falling for him. She’d had a crush, sure, and sex with him had been phenomenal. But she wouldn’t say she was in the
L
word with him. The
L
word required an ability to see a future together. And she didn’t. She was heading to New Jersey and her dream of becoming an editor at a big publishing house.

But first, she’d have to tell Chris.

A sour taste filled her mouth and her heart palpitated. She sat down hard. Maybe she was getting sick.

A glance at the clock, and she decided she could wait to tell him her news. He’d be back tomorrow afternoon. He’d be jet-lagged, but it was better she tell him sooner rather than later. She’d have to break the news to Simon, too. Another doubt smacked her between the eyes: How was he going to cope through the rest of school?

You don’t need to worry about him. He’ll be fine. He’s responsible for himself.

Of course he was, the same way Chris was responsible for his own well-being and she was responsible for hers. She hadn’t promised Simon anything, either.

Not that that made her feel better.

* * *

S
HE DROVE TO THE
farm the following afternoon. Chris’s flight was scheduled to arrive at the airport at 2:30 p.m. Tiffany wanted to be there when he came home.

William was sitting stiffly on the porch in an old ladder-back chair. It didn’t look comfortable. His palms were planted on his upper thighs, and he watched her with a cold expression.

“Hello, Mr. Jamieson,” she greeted. He nodded in response, unsmiling. She waited for him to invite her in or tell her where Chris or Simon was, but he simply sat there. “Is Chris home yet?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She looked at her watch. “How about Simon? Is he around?”

The old man inclined his chin and nodded toward the barn. “You’ll find him in there.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated, wondering if she should ask if everything was okay. He was probably just feeling grouchy. The weather had been somewhat oppressive lately, gray and wet with a leaden sky.

Simon was cleaning the horse stalls. He had his earbuds in and his MP3 player blared some loud hip-hop beats. She approached and called his name, but he didn’t respond. She touched his shoulder and he turned. Hurt and betrayal clouded his features and his eyes became two hard stones.

“How’s it going?” she asked brightly. He lifted a lip in a sneer and turned back to his work without acknowledging her. An uneasy feeling settled in her chest. “Simon? What’s wrong? Did you get your summer school marks?”

He still didn’t respond. Her stomach pitched. Oh, no. He’d failed. No,
she’d
failed him. She hadn’t adequately prepared him for the essay portion of the exam, had she? She’d seen he had some difficulty expressing himself on paper. Why hadn’t she worked on that more?

“The exam?” she asked tentatively, dread dragging her spirits to the ground.

A pitchfork full of manure scattered across her sandaled feet and she squeaked. “Hey!” She shook off her toes.

“I got an A-minus on the exam,” he blurted. “I passed the course with a B-plus.”

“Simon, that’s fantastic. Congratulations.” The clenching of her stomach eased.
Thank God.

But still he would not look at her. Another steaming pile nearly landed on her toes.

“Simon, what is it? What’s your problem?”

“
My
problem? What’s
your
problem?” He finished with the stall and went to wheel the full barrow out.

Part of her wanted to believe he was mad at her for almost running him over, but she had the sickening feeling it was something much worse than that. Before she could explain why she hadn’t been at the restaurant yesterday, he’d disappeared around the corner, obviously in no mood to talk.

She walked back toward the house. William was still on the porch, and as she approached, he gave her a long, steady look. “What’s going on with Simon?” she asked.

“Not talking to you, is he?” He said it matter-of-factly, and his tone grated.

“Is it something I did?”

“What do you think?” He picked up his crutches and eased out of the chair, hobbling inside slowly.

She followed him into the kitchen, guilt and anxiety making her fidget. “I’m guessing he’s mad about something I did—”

He whipped around, eyes blazing. “What are your intentions with my son, Miss Cheung?”

Her throat closed. “My intentions?”

“You told Chris you couldn’t attend that wedding in Vegas with him because you were helping your parents at the diner. Then my grandson spots you hotfooting it out of town and finds out you were driving to New Jersey for the weekend. Do you have any explanation for that?”