The Marriage Recipe (8 page)

“I'm sorry,” Colin said. He touched her hand, but Rachel snatched it away and held it up, palm out like a shield.

“Don't,” she said. “I don't want pity. I've had enough of that. Everyone gives me these glances. I can tell what they're thinking. ‘Oh, poor Rachel. If only she'd noticed the signs.' ‘Perhaps if she were better in bed, he wouldn't have strayed.' ‘Poor thing. She must be reeling.' So please, don't give me any of your pity. Just tell me we're going to kick his…” She checked her language. “His you-know-what. I refuse to lose my recipes.”

“And we're going to make sure you don't. Here's what I've decided to do.” As they finished their meal, Colin outlined the legal strategy. “I'll be sending out the first letter to his counsel tomorrow. I'll mail you a copy at your house.”

“Shouldn't I see it first?”

“You can, but it's all in legalese. You'll have to trust me. I know that's hard, but I have a good feeling about this. You just hang in there. It'll just take time.”

The waiter came by with the dessert tray, and Rachel leaned back against her chair, almost defeated. Time was something she seemed to have plenty of lately.

“Would you like to hear about tonight's offerings?” the waiter asked.

“Yes,” Colin said. His gaze sought hers. “I'd like something. Rachel?” He pointed to the tray. “The flan here is delicious. Or you could pick something else.”

The waiter began to describe the selections, and Rachel succumbed and chose a slice of chocolate cake that appeared positively delicious.

“I'll return with your desserts in a moment,” the waiter said, carrying the tray aloft and heading for the kitchen.

“The chocolate cake's a great choice,” Colin said.

“Since you ordered the flan, I figured I could always swipe a taste of yours,” she said. They used to do that as kids. She'd get the chocolate ice cream; Colin, the vanilla or butterscotch. They'd swap cones back and forth until nothing was left.

“I'll be happy to share if you do the same,” Colin replied, his blue eyes darkening, as if he remembered, as well.

“Of course. Although it's hard to even look at someone else's dessert right now,” Rachel said.

“Think of it as research,” Colin advised, rationalizing.

She nodded. “That's probably a good approach. I start baking all the desserts at Kim's tomorrow afternoon. First up are the pies my grandmother says she's tired of cooking.”

“She has been making them for years.”

“For as long as I've been alive, and even before that,” Rachel acknowledged as she lifted her coffee cup. “I'm ready for the challenge. Hopefully, no one will notice that I'll be tweaking the recipes. She's still making her crusts with lard. It gives the pastry a flakier crust, but it's not good for the arteries. While I was in New York, I created a crust that's just as light and intensely flavorful, but a lot healthier.”

Colin rolled his shoulders as if stretching. He noticed her concerned look. “Flying always has my back tightening a little. You shouldn't worry about modifying the pie crust. I doubt anyone will notice you've made any changes. Morrisville's not known for its taste buds.”

He'd said the wrong thing, and Rachel's face scrunched up involuntarily as she bit back tears. “I put my foot in my mouth. I mean—” he began.

She shook her head, stopping his explanation. “No, it's okay. Unfortunately, you're absolutely right. Elmer's a prime example. He eats a slice of peach pie a day, but he wouldn't notice the crust unless there wasn't one. Harold's the same way. The only person who really cares about things tasting spectacular is me. I'm the one who wants things five-star in a two-star town.”

“I'm not sure if I agree that Morrisville is a two-star town. There are some good things about it, but perhaps not once you've lived in the big city.” He toyed with her fingers. “You shouldn't feel guilty for caring about how things taste. Cooking is your passion. You should always strive to be the best. That's what I aim for when I stand up in court and argue for justice, even when it was something as silly as defending Judd after his dog dug up Mrs. Perkins's prize rose beds.”

“She always was persnickety over her flowers. I hope it worked out okay.”

“It did. She'd taken Judd to small claims to teach him a lesson. Once he offered to help her replant and put in an electric fence, all was well.”

Rachel frowned, her own situation weighing heavily on her mind. Her legal situation was “big-time,” not small town.

“We will win this,” Colin said, as if sensing her mood. “I don't think Marco has a legal precedent to stand on. When he realizes the effort's not worth it, he'll back down and drop the silliness.”

“And then I can go back to New York.”

As Rachel made her declaration, she removed her hand out of Colin's reach and broke the connection between them.

“Sure,” Colin said, oddly discomfited by her avowal. The waiter brought the flan, but suddenly Colin didn't feel much like eating it, despite the caramelized sugar on the top of the custard. Rachel had only been home since the last week of February, and he wasn't ready to lose her so soon. “You're not planning on staying?”

Rachel shook her head. “Never was. Morrisville is where I'm from. New York is where I want to be. It has such energy. I love it there.”

“I'd find it too gray,” Colin said.

She nodded. “Oh, it is, but I don't mind. Sure, on overcast winter days, you wonder where the sun is. But the skyscrapers cast interesting long shadows. My apartment window looks across a street and right into someone else's. We have to keep the blinds shut when we get dressed or we'd flash each other, and I'm not really into that stuff. There's always such energy.”

“I'd rather have my space,” Colin said. “And trees. I can't live without trees.”

“Central Park's an easy subway ride away. There are all sorts of other parks around Manhattan. And there's so much to do. Museums. Broadway. Concerts. Great places to eat.”

Colin thought she was trying to sell the city a little too hard. “And how often do you get to do those things?”

Her expression tempered. “Not as much as I used to. Marco and I went out frequently, but really, life was pretty much the restaurant every night. However, you have to admit that New York has a lot more cultural and social activities than Morrisville, or even Batesville. What is there to do in Morrisville besides go to the country club? Oh, and Lions, Knights of Columbus, that kind of thing. You have to go to Cincinnati or Indianapolis to find any kind of city life.”

“Like I told you, I happen to love playing golf. In fact, one of my favorite things to do when I get the time is load up the clubs, fly to a different city and try a new course. You used to play. Do you still?”

“Not lately, but I'm sure I haven't forgotten,” Rachel said defensively.

“Well, maybe you can go a round with me while you're here. Maybe you'll find that it's a sport you might like reacquainting yourself with.”

“I'm sure I'll be baking.” Rachel shut the door.

Colin tilted his head and studied her. She squirmed under his scrutiny. “I'm not asking you to go with me as if you were some sort of charity case.”

“I just don't want you to get the wrong idea,” she replied, jutting her chin defensively.

Colin ate a bite of flan and moved the dessert toward her. “And what wrong idea is that?”

“That I'm wanting anything from you.” Rachel helped herself to some of the custard.

“We're friends, aren't we?”

“Yes, but we're no longer children. Morrisville is matchmaking hell. I'm single—you're single. Tongues will wag.” She took another bite of the flan. She'd already eaten half the chocolate cake and she pushed that toward him.

“And I'm supposed to worry about that because…?” Colin prompted, reaching for the cake plate.

“Because everyone will try to put one and one together and make two. You and me. That kind of thing.”

“Now you're the one trashing my ego,” Colin said, forking a morsel, which he raised in the air. “I'm not good enough for you?”

“Of course you are,” Rachel said quickly. “In fact, I might have had a teensy crush on you while we were growing up. But I'm not planning on living in Morrisville. You're not planning on leaving. So I'd say, plane or no plane, we're too geographically challenged ever to make anything work. Even if we liked each other, in the future. Not that we will.”

He was more interested in her revelation. “You had a crush on me?”

She shoved a bite of flan in her mouth. “Maybe. Just a little one. Nothing much.”

Liar. She'd never be able to play poker with him. Still, had he been wrong all these years? “I thought you liked Bruce.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “No. Why would I like him?”

“You were always hanging around him, trying to get his attention,” Colin said. He'd set the empty plate to the side.

Rachel appeared discombobulated, which was how he was feeling himself. “I was always hanging around attempting to get
your
attention. You never saw me as anything but the girl next door.”

The waiter's arrival with a coffeepot provided an opportune diversion that saved Colin from having to reply. Her declaration was like being blindsided in court.

Rachel had had a crush on him? Impossible. She'd never once given any indication that her feelings ran beyond being a pal.

Perhaps she was toying with him. But the way she was adding cream to her coffee and stirring told him otherwise. “You're about to make a whirlpool and slosh everything over the side.”

“Oh.” She removed the spoon, stopping the spinning current. “I wasn't paying attention.”

“I can see that.” Colin chuckled.

She wiggled in her chair. “Well, you've rattled me. This whole return to Morrisville has confounded me. No, my life started changing when I found Marco sleeping with the sous chef. Everything has been topsy-turvy. Nothing seems right anymore.”

Her statement gave Colin more insight into how confused Rachel really was. “I'm sorry if I've contributed to your stress,” he said finally. He sipped coffee and let the black brew slide down his throat like a bitter balm. “I'm sorry, Rachel. I feel like a cliché. I never meant to cause you any stress or pain.”

“Well, you know me. I love clichés and quotes,” Rachel quipped, in an attempt to regain her sense of humor. “My goal is to nip any of this tension in the bud. I mean, we cannot go back to high school, when I foolishly adored you. We must keep this relationship professional. Me client—you lawyer. That kind of thing.”

“You foolishly adored me?” Colin repeated, using all his skill to keep his myriad emotions from registering on his face. “Rachel, you're killing me here. You liked me that much?”

“Duh,” Rachel said. “You men really are clueless. You're perfect proof. We kissed. I thought that meant something. I mean, you asked me to prom, didn't you?”

“Yeah, but I thought you didn't want to go. You never mentioned it the next day. I thought you were embarrassed by what had happened between us.”

“Please. It was only a kiss.”

“Maybe to you,” Colin said. That kiss, with Rachel, whom he'd adored, had been all he'd wanted and more. “It crushed me that you chose to ignore that night and rationalized it away as the consequence of drinking cheap pink champagne.”

“Me?” She seemed shocked. “I thought it was all you not wanting to go.”

He stared at her, not believing that such a simple thing could spin so far out of control. “I guess we had a huge lack of communication.”

“Big-time.”

He sat there for a moment, absorbing the revelation. He felt lower than a heel. “So I guess we screwed up. Or maybe you didn't and I did. I'll be a man and admit it was my fault. I misunderstood everything. I blew it.”

“It doesn't matter whose fault it was,” Rachel declared. “The past is just that—passed. Time has made us very different people. You have your life and I have mine. I just don't want some history and some silly parental fantasy muddling what has to be my main focus—getting back to New York and my career.”

“Yeah,” Colin said, not liking that one bit. The waiter refilled Colin's coffee cup, and as he did, Colin signaled for the check. Although he really wasn't ready to leave, they both had to work tomorrow and he knew they should be getting back. He watched Rachel as she polished off the last few bites of his flan before she reached for the white linen napkin and wiped her mouth.

Damn. He'd always been attracted to Rachel. Bruce had been right all along, and Colin had been too blind to realize what was, literally, right next door. He'd always had women hit on him, and the only one he'd wanted—well, she'd been his all along and he'd missed the signs.

Now it was too late.

 

T
HEY WERE QUIET
on the flight back. He'd turned on the XM Radio, and Rachel found herself too emotionally charged to nod off on the return trip to Morrisville.

Colin had admitted prom had been a big misunderstanding. He'd liked her.

That maybe she'd been wrong all these years ago had her reevaluating everything she'd ever thought about Colin Morris. Sure, they'd both grown up. They were now different people. High school was everyone's worst nightmare and, twenty years later, their fondest memory. Time healed all wounds, and Rachel was licking new ones from Marco, ones she knew she'd eventually get over. She was strong. Determined.

As for Colin, she could understand a communication glitch. The teenage years were giant soap operas where insecurities wrote the script. Very few, if any, teens mastered being a wordsmith. The risk of rejection was too great to practice communication skills. Still…she was just a little in shock that he'd liked her back.

“We'll be landing in twenty minutes. We've just passed Indianapolis,” Colin told her.

Rachel adjusted her microphone. “Okay.”

“Have you been sleeping?” he asked.

“No.” She waited to hear if he'd say anything else, but Colin remained silent. He didn't speak again until he announced they were changing altitude.

His voice came to her ear. “There are the runway lights.”

Rachel looked out the window at the parallel lines below. Within minutes, they were on the ground and Colin had parked the plane in its spot.

“Careful now,” he said as he opened her door and helped her out. Her hand trembled in his as he assisted her down. Could she ever touch him again? Somehow the only thing clearing the air had done was make her even more aware of the person Colin had become.

“I've got it this time,” she said, trying to lighten the moment. “Thanks.”

“Good. Here are my car keys. It's gotten a little chilly. Go ahead and start the car while I finish up.”

“You're sure you don't want me to wait here?”

“I don't want you getting cold. Here. If you would, just take my bag.” Colin opened the door in the tail and handed her his duffel bag. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Sure.” Rachel took it and soon had it and herself stashed in the car. She was used to northeast chill, but the open spaces of Morrisville seemed colder. Maybe that old saying about concrete holding in the heat was true.

Colin joined her a few minutes later. “You should have turned on the engine,” he chided, closing the driver's door behind him.

“I didn't want to waste any gas.”

“I'd rather you not have been sitting here shivering,” he said as he fired up the engine. “It'll be a minute or two before the car gets warm. You've got a seat heater. The switch is on your right.”

Soon Rachel felt the heat coming from beneath the leather. Colin put the car in Drive and headed back toward town.

“I had a nice time,” Rachel said, the silence now deafening.

“Good,” Colin said. He was bothered by something, and Rachel wasn't sure what.

“Are you okay? You seem really put out.”

Colin tapped his hands on the steering wheel. “No, it's nothing. Just realized I'd forgotten to do some things at home.”

“Oh,” she said, not certain whether he was telling her the truth. An element had changed since dinner, and whatever it was, Rachel didn't like it.

Moments later, he pulled into the driveway of Rachel's house. Their reservation had been for seven and the meal leisurely. The clock on the dashboard read a quarter to twelve. The house was dark, Rachel's grandmother and mother having retired long ago. “I guess we were out late,” he said.

“I had a good time,” Rachel repeated. “Thank you for dinner. It was fun getting out of Morrisville. I haven't been to Chicago since I was a kid.”

“I love Chicago. It's my second city. I never felt the need to move there, since I can fly up anytime.”

“Living in a city is different,” Rachel said. “It took me a while to get used to it. So many people and so many things going on. But I adjusted. I found myself there, I think.”

“That's from a movie,” he said.

“Caught me.” Rachel grinned. “
Sabrina.
She said she found herself in Paris. I liked the one with Audrey Hepburn better. She went to Paris to attend cooking school. In the modern version, Sabrina works at
Vogue.
”

“I saw both,” Colin said. “She thought she was in love with one brother and fell in love with the other.”

“That's right.” Rachel said, impressed he'd seen both chick flicks.