Part 26 (1/2)
”You're also going to need to pay a fine,” the police officer informs me, writing something on a pad of paper. ”I'm citing you for violation of city ordnance five three one. You'll need to come down to the courthouse and talk to the judge.”
Great. Nausea surges in my stomach. The band starts to shuffle their equipment back into their van. I sign the violation notice, write out a check to the band, and rush to help settle the rest of the chaos.
Inside, the noise level is starting to decrease as mothers haul their children toward the door and other customers walk out. I return to the Castle Room, which is now empty.
In addition to the mess of overturned chairs and crumpled paper plates, the murals of black mountains and flying monkeys have been smeared with yellow and blue paint, several of the crystal ball centerpieces are cracked, and there's an entire cake smashed near the stairs.
With my heart feeling heavy as an anvil, I pick up a trash can and start to clean up the plates and cups.
”The Alice in Wonderland room took a hit too,” Allie says from behind me. ”But this is the worst of it.”
I shake my head. ”What happened?”
”Everything,” Allie says, her voice tight with frustration as we start to straighten the chairs. ”First Brent had to go out of town, and Sarah called in sick. Then in addition to the invited party guests, Becky thought it would be fun to tell all her friends to bring their friends. So over fifty five-year-olds showed up, and I knew we couldn't turn them away so we had to scramble to get enough food for them because we hadn't placed that big an order.
”Then the band was late, and they had way more equipment than we'd been expecting, so it took them forever to set up and by then the kids were getting impatient and wreaking havoc in the cafe because most of their parents had left. A bunch of them were yelling that they wanted cake, which wasn't supposed to happen until after the band, but then Becky saw it sitting on the sideboard and decided to carry it downstairs to the terrace.”
She waves toward the cake smashed and trampled on the floor. ”Well, of course she dropped it and then got hysterical, but she didn't want any of the cafe desserts as a subst.i.tute. So her mother went out to buy another cake, which meant she wasn't here when the kids started ripping open all the presents.
”I managed to get the band to start, but someone must have complained about the noise, because the police officer showed up asking for our permit-which you a.s.sured me you'd take care of-and the band had to shut down, which made all the kids upset, and then one little boy thought it would be funny to eat the cake with his hands... and next thing you know, they're throwing cake at each other, Becky is crying, her mother is yelling at me to fix things, the band is complaining about how they came here to play, and the police officer is telling me I have to pay a fine.”
She whirls around to pin me with a glare. ”And you weren't answering your stupid phone.”
”Oh, Allie.” Tears flood my eyes, and I sink onto a chair. ”I am so G.o.dd.a.m.ned sorry.”
”I don't get it, Liv!” She spreads her arms out. ”What happened? Where were you?”
Embarra.s.sment scorches my face.
”I was with Dean,” I admit.
Allie blinks in bafflement. ”With Dean?”
”Sort of a date night. Or day. Whatever. We haven't spent much time together since Nicholas was born, and he took me out and... well, I usually have every other Sat.u.r.day off and I completely forgot about the party.”
”I'm not begrudging you a date night with your husband,” Allie says. ”But it's so unlike you to be so irresponsible.”
The word hits me like the tail end of a whip. I've spent my life trying to prove I'm anything but irresponsible.
”You were the one who pushed for us to have this party,” Allie continues sharply, ”and not because you knew we could handle it, but because you were trying to do some t.i.t-for-tat kind of thing with Edison. But you know that's not what the Wonderland Cafe is about.”
”What can I do?” I ask, shame filling my chest. ”How can I fix it?”
”I have no idea. I already gave Monica her deposit back. The band is upset because this hurts their reputation for making kids happy, and now we're on record as having been fined. Plus we had to turn regular customers away because we were too busy, and now there are at least three grandmothers out there p.i.s.sed off because we couldn't provide the high tea they had promised their granddaughters. That's going to mess with our business too, as if our grand opening disaster wasn't enough of a hurdle to overcome.”
With that parting shot, she stalks out of room and down the stairs. I stare at a cracked crystal ball, feeling as if Allie just slapped me. Or as if I just tripped on my own feet and face-planted on a concrete floor. I rest my head in my hands and indulge in a good crying jag.
Of course it was all too good to be true. I finally have everything I've been working for-an incredible husband, a beautiful son, a successful business, a good reputation-and when the final piece of my marriage gets put back into place, all the other b.a.l.l.s I'm juggling come cras.h.i.+ng down.
I wipe my eyes on a napkin, my insides suddenly aching with longing to see Nicholas. I text Dean that I have to ”finish up” some things at the cafe, then I get back to work cleaning up the mess and trying to patch up the damage I've done.
Allie doesn't talk to me for the rest of the afternoon, and by the time we close the cafe I'm starting to wonder if I've permanently damaged both our friends.h.i.+p and our business partners.h.i.+p.
”Allie, I don't know what else to say or do,” I tell her, as we turn off the lights and lock up.
”Nothing right now, Liv.” She turns away from me, her back stiff. ”I'll see you Monday.”
I watch her walk away, guilt simmering like acid inside me. I get into my car and head back to the b.u.t.terfly House.
I leave my purse in the foyer and go into the sunroom, where Dean and Nicholas are building an intricate, towering structure with the blocks Dean brought back from Tuscany. Twilight s.h.i.+nes through the picture windows. The song ”All Around the Kitchen” drifts from the speakers, loud enough that neither of them glances up from their task.
For a moment, I stop and look at them-Nicholas in a blue sweats.h.i.+rt with his hair a mess and dried jam on his cheek, and an unshaven Dean, wearing an old T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans, his reading gla.s.ses on as he studies what appears to be a diagram of the tower they're constructing. He makes a notation on the picture and hands a triangular block to Nicholas, who places it carefully on top of a stack.
”Mama!”
Nicholas pushes to his feet and waddles toward me, his arms outstretched. I drop my bag on the kitchen island and crouch to pull him against me, inhaling his toddler smells of baby shampoo, sour milk, and strawberry jam.
”Hey, you get everything done?” Dean approaches, rubbing his hand over Nicholas's head as he bends to kiss me.
”Yes.” I lift Nicholas into my arms and straighten, not yet wanting to tell Dean about my egregious mistake.
I lean closer to him, squis.h.i.+ng Nicholas between us in a group hug as I breathe them both in. The scents of my husband fill my nose-coffee, laundry detergent, and chocolate mint.
”You found my secret stash of peppermint patties,” I remark, rubbing my cheek against his chest.
”You need to work on your hiding skills, lady,” he replies. ”Did you really think I wouldn't find them behind Nicholas's yogurt bites?”
”Next time I'll hide them behind the organic kale chips.”
A chuckle rumbles through his chest. ”Well, I guarantee I won't bother to look there.”
”Tower!” Nicholas shouts, squirming in my arms.
I lower him to the floor, and he hurries back to the unfinished tower. Dean reaches out to twist his hands around the ends of the purple silk scarf, which I'd forgotten I'm still wearing around my neck. He tugs on the scarf, pulling me to him for another kiss.
”I missed you,” he remarks. ”I had more plans, you know. Dirty ones.”
”Oh, I know.” I slide my arms around his waist and squeeze, loving so much the solid strength and heat of his body. ”Sorry I had to leave so suddenly.”
”S'okay.” He rubs my back. ”Just gives me more reason to whisk you away again for another night of debauchery.”
If only it were that easy...
”Mama, tower!” Nicholas calls.
I pull away from Dean, and we join our son on the carpet. We spend the next hour building, reading picture books, listening to music, and refereeing a toddler fuss that is soothed with a sippy cup of milk.