Beyond Ruin (8 page)

"Audra filled me in on some of the details of the divorce and custody arrangements."

"Did she?" James used his thumb to crack the knuckles of the hand that rested near Natalie. The rest of his body seemed to stiffen almost instantly.

"It all seems so... civil."

"What other option is there when there are children involved?"

Children
. Any time she remembered that Celine was very much pregnant with James' child the numbness that had engulfed her heart lifted just enough to reopen the wound that at times threatened to suffocate her.

Don't fall apart, Natalie. Not now
. She cleared her throat and stretched her head from side to side.

"There's a Starbucks off of Parkway Calabasas. Would you mind stopping, please?"

"Sure."

There was a distinct chord of tension between them, and Natalie was dying to get out of the car and regroup. She busied herself with email on her phone as James exited the freeway and joined the mid-morning crawl of traffic of the suburban city. She had her bag in one hand and her other hand on the door handle before James was fully parked in a spot.

"I'll be right back." Ignoring the turning heads of onlookers, Natalie headed straight into the coffee shop and made a beeline for the bathroom. She barely got the door closed before the first tears came, welling up in her eyes with a stinging heat.

No, no, no.
Don't cry here
. She wiped at the tears before they could drop onto her cheeks.
What am I even doing here? I should be at home working, building my life.
It was a conversation she'd had with herself whenever she felt a sliver of pain over the loss of James and the life she once carried inside her. There was little point in dwelling on the negative, not when she'd worked so hard to pick up the pieces of her life and reassemble them into something she hoped was better than what she started with.

A soft knock at the door was all the convincing she needed to pull herself back together.

"Just a minute!" she called out. She quickly relieved herself, then washed up and searched through her bag for some hand cream. When she found a pair of oversized sunglasses instead she slipped them over her face and observed her reflection.
There
. It was as if it had never happened.

Feeling more like herself again, Natalie exited the bathroom and made her way to the register to order. To her surprise James was standing only a few feet away, a venti-sized drink in his hand.

"You still like the hot white mocha, right?" He held the drink out to her and she took it with a brief smile and a quick '
thank you
'. "I'm sorry about what I said. I should have considered my words more carefully."

"It's fine,” she said breezily. "Thanks for the coffee."

He looked a bit unsure of himself, of her, but only hesitated a moment before turning to head back to the car, gesturing with his hand to follow behind her.

I can do this
, Natalie chanted to herself.
It's only lunch
.

They made casual conversation the rest of the drive north alongside the ocean, but Natalie was aloof and curt when answering questions, opting not to elaborate when he asked her about what she'd been doing with her life in the months since their breakup. He'd fucked up, and the sunglasses she wore that covered half her face did little to hide the fact that she had been upset; she was hiding her feelings.

Knowing he had caused her pain, however acutely, ate at him from the inside. She reclined in her seat, head turned to look out at the mountains that bordered the freeway on the east side, her arm draped leisurely over the leather padded center console. He longed to touch her, to graze his finger across her skin again. He’d come to know the many versions of Natalie in the expanse of time they’d known each other, which in hindsight seemed unrightfully brief, but Closed-off Natalie was new to him. He didn’t know how to approach Closed-off Natalie.

Her cell phone vibrated in her lap for the nth time and she was quick to answer it, curling her body in closer to her side of the car. “Hey,” she greeted, her voice low but dulcet. “No, I’m not at home.” He could barely hear what she was saying, but thought he heard her say something about Santa Barbara.

It was hard not to listen in, but he was curious. There seemed to be so much about Natalie that had changed in the months since she broke up with him. It wasn’t just the hair or the weight loss. She was different. Changed.

“No, um, I’m with James.”

His ears burned. Who was she talking to? Not Quinn or Joe; they already knew she was with him.

“I’m not sure. Later this afternoon.” Something the person on the other side of the line made her laugh, and James felt his heart fall inside his chest. She could barely look at him, and it was someone else whose words made her laugh. Whoever it was James envied them. And possibly despised them.

“Monday night it is then. Don’t worry, my expectations are set reasonably high.” Another laugh. “Okay. I know. You too. Bye.” Natalie set the phone back down in her lap and cupped her chin with her hand as she stared out the window, so far away from him, so closed off. In that moment, as they drove through the oceanside city of Summerland just minutes south of Montecito, James began to doubt himself.

Natalie swept her thumb absentmindedly across the smooth case of her phone when it vibrated again, drawing her attention away from the scenic views all around them. She turned the phone over in her lap and glanced at the screen.

‘Joe: Listing is up. Quinn is reaching out to some people at Brighton.’

‘Good. Have you looked at the intern apps I sent you yet?’ she replied.

‘Joe: I am now.’

‘Joe: BTW you looked good in my shirt.’

Natalie felt her cheeks flush. First Audra, now Joe. Never before had she had so much romantic interaction all at one time.

An old memory as clear as though it had only just happened came unbidden to mind.

‘This looks familiar,’ James whispered.

Natalie shut her eyes as her mind traveled back in time to the source of the memory, every sense from the first night she met James coming out of the shadows. Satiated from both food and sex, she had slipped on a tee shirt belonging to James - then a stranger to her - to sleep in.

‘Sorry. I sort of borrowed it from your suitcase.’

His eyes followed his fingers as they moved across the smooth cotton hem from her hip to stomach, then beneath the fabric hovering just above her skin.

His cologne stained shirt was still her favorite thing to sleep in.

Natalie swiped out of Joe’s message thread and scrolled down to the very bottom of the screen, past all the dozens upon dozens of text messages she exchanged with friends, colleagues, clients and her family. There, like a bookmark in an old tome she’d never managed to finish reading, was the last thing James Fitzgerald said to her.

'Gentleman Twelve: I love you. No matter what.’

The last thing until he showed up at her house for gelato less than twenty-four hours prior.

She let out a deeply held breath and felt something intangible lift from her chest.

“So why Montecito? Is the lunch in Los Angeles not as good?”

James expelled a chuckle through his lips that sounded more like a breath. “I thought it might be nice to get out of the city and go somewhere we’d never been to. At least not together.”

“I think you talked about wanting to go to Santa Barbara for a weekend way back when.”
Back in happier times
, she thought to herself.

James slowed the vehicle as he transitioned into the far right lane. “I did. There’s something about this place that makes me feel so relaxed.” He made a smooth exit off the freeway and turned left toward the ocean, driving along a road that looked like it wasn’t traveled too often.

“So where exactly are we going? I don’t see any restaurants nearby?” She didn’t see much of
anything
nearby, save for a few older houses.

“The restaurant is coming to us,” he said. Another turn and the Bugatti was parallel to the ocean heading towards a small but well-maintained park. There was an even smaller parking lot adjacent to the park, big enough for the Bugatti and one other vehicle - an unadorned commercial van with its back doors opened. Two men dressed in white button-down shirts with black pants were making quick work of unloading equipment from the back of the van.

“What’s all this?”

James engaged the parking break and shut off the engine. “This is lunch,” he announced. “Come on, Harlow.”

Everything was set up to James’ exact specifications. A white tent stood erect on the sandy shore of the beach, its canvas flaps swaying gently against the cool Pacific breeze. A table with two chairs had been placed beneath the opening of the tent, and two tall heaters flanked the table on either side. Some several feet away a makeshift kitchen was being setup by the two men in white shirts.

At the center of the table sat a voluminous bouquet of long stem roses in various shades of pink and cream. Each side of the table was set with bone china plates, crystal glasses and thick linen napkins wrapped in golden colored ribbon. The entire effect was soft, subtle, and elegant through and through.

James reached out to put his hand at her elbow, but stopped mid-way, retracting the limb back to his side. Instead he watched as Natalie’s eye swept across the scene, taking everything in. How he wished he knew what she was thinking.

“Natalie? You okay?”

She turned to look at him, her expression as unreadable as her thoughts. If anything she looked confused. “I think this is single-handedly the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I overdid it,
he thought to himself. “You’re right.” He grabbed for the vase of flowers -
Jesus Christ, these are heavy
- and handed them to one of the men, who had just happened to pass by at that moment. “That better?”

Her cheeks billowed as her chest heaved a little, and just when he thought she was having some sort of panic attack she let out a burst of laughter so loud it startled him.

“Yes, taking away the roses
completely
tones down the whole catered-lunch-on-a-private-beach motif.” She burst with laughter again, her cheeks and eyes filling with humor. It was infectious. James couldn’t help himself from laughing along with her.

Suddenly there was a lightness to her countenance again, and she was still laughing even after he held out her seat for her before taking his place across the table from her.

“You’re going to be feeding me bon bons in a bubble bath for dessert, aren’t you?”

“Imported chocolate from Europe actually,” he replied jokingly.

“Oh my god, you are just like your daughter!” Her eyes rolled to the heavens but she kept laughing. “Do you know that she eats sandwiches made from homemade bread and cheese she procures from an artisanal shop?”

“Yes, I did know that,” he laughed. His heart soared with pride at the mention of Frankie. “She brings some home to me every time she comes to visit. She and Celine have already started scouting out new food places to try in L.A.”

Natalie’s laughter quieted some, but her smile remained.

A third man wearing a chef’s jacket and hat approached them, a pleasant smile on his face. “Good afternoon Mister Fitzgerald, Miss Harlow. My name is Scott, I am the executive chef of The Boathouse on Hendry’s Beach.” He extended his hand first to Natalie and then James, shaking both with a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Scott,” James greeted.

The chef turned to Natalie and handed her a menu. “Mister Fitzgerald has tasked me with the pleasure of creating a special menu in your honor, Miss Harlow. Everything you see here has been created just for today’s occasion, and is cooked to order. When you’re ready let me know what you’d like, and in the meantime,” he paused to wave towards one of the attendants in white shirts, “we have an excellent selection of wines for you to choose from.” Both attendants appeared carrying a large metal trough filled with ice and bottles of various wines, all white. “All of the wine is local from the surrounding cities of Solvang, Buellton and Lompoc, and of course Santa Barbara.”

“Mmm.” Natalie grinned as she browsed the menu. “What would pair well with the crab cakes?”

“Very good!” the chef praised her. “A crisp sauvignon blanc or riesling would do quite well.”

“Riesling, definitely,” she nodded.

“For me, too,” James nodded.

“Excellent. I’ll begin those crab cakes for you, Miss Harlow. Enjoy.”

The second attendant poured them each a generous glass of wine before disappearing out of sight in the makeshift kitchen.

“How is Celine doing by the way?” Natalie asked before taking a sip of her wine.

It could have been the most awkward moment of the whole day, second only to the conversation they’d had shortly before stopping at Starbucks. But there was an earnestness in her face that told him she was sincere, though not entirely without pain.

“She’s doing well,” James nodded. “Not terribly thrilled to be moving given…-“ he broke off. There was a knowing look on Natalie’s face, but her smile and the small flick of her eyebrows encouraged him to continue. “Given her condition,” he finished.

“Do you know the gender?”

“It’s a boy.”

Natalie nodded solemnly before taking another large sip from her wine. He could only imagine how difficult it was for her to ask the question, let alone hear the answer.

“Have any names picked out?”

“Celine is leaning towards William. She says it’s very regal sounding.”

Natalie shrugged and made a soft
hmmm
noise. “I like Oliver.”

“Me too.”

They stared at each other a moment, eyes locked and their thoughts presumably the same. James again fought the urge to reach out and touch her in some way; a tender hand on hers or to sweep his thumb across her temple. No matter how intimate they had become while in a relationship together, breaking up took with it the freedom to merely reach out and feel the other person. He clenched his hands tightly together before picking up the menu the chef had placed on his side of the table.

“So what looks good for lunch?”