“Perfect.”
Claire filled two mugs, set them on the counter, then pretended to inspect Olivia. “I don’t see any gaping wounds.” She settled onto the next stool. “If they were demolishing the cottage where I grew up, I’d be a basket case.”
“Actually, I haven’t given it much thought,” Olivia replied. “And that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And they’re not tearing it down.”
Arnaud offered, “That’s not what we’ve heard.”
“They’re moving it. At least for now. And the cottage is not the issue. Well, of course, it is. But it’s not at the head of today’s shopping list.”
“So what . . .” Claire realized her husband had sidled in so close he was almost touching. “Don’t you have something that needs burning?”
“It can wait. Go on, Olivia darlin’. What’s on your mind?”
Claire told her, “Say the word, I’ll shoo him back to the far corner.”
“Actually, it’d be nice if you both stayed,” Olivia replied. She took a huge breath, announced, “Bailey is in love with Dillon.”
They both froze. And might have remained that way for hours, if Claire’s other waitress had not pushed through the kitchen door and called, “New table of five. All want the special.”
“On it,” Arnaud said. “Olivia, talk loud.” He rushed over and began filling plates.
Claire demanded, “You think or you know?”
“I saw how she was watching Dillon. We spoke. She confessed.”
Arnaud passed over the plates and bounced back. “Bailey Long. Our mayor.”
Claire said, “Bailey told you she’s in love with the man who broke your heart.”
“Right. Him.”
Arnaud said, “The guy you’re going to be living with.”
“Not like that I’m not.”
Arnaud told his wife, “She doesn’t sound broke up to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “Obviously my brain is operating in the wrong gear. You’re actually telling us you are okay with them being, you know, together?”
Olivia replied, “I told her to go for it.”
The waitress reappeared. “Claire. Table eight wants dessert.”
Arnaud said, “Maybe we should just close for the day.”
“Tempting, but no.” Claire rose from her stool. “Don’t anybody say a single solitary word until I get back.”
Arnaud retreated to the stoves, worked his way through a couple of orders, dinged his pickup bell, prepped more plates. Claire came and went twice. Olivia found it mildly amazing, how they could both continue with their jobs while apparently looking nowhere except at her.
Ten minutes later, husband and wife were back. Claire said, “Hon, what exactly are you wanting to discuss?”
“I’m trying to figure out why I feel the way I do.”
“Okay,” Claire said. “The light is beginning to shine.”
