“How are you even going to collect if I live in another state?”
“You’ll come home for the holidays at some point, right? You’d never stay away from your family for too long.”
“Maybe I won’t tell you about falling in love with the hot Rhode Island guy,” I said teasingly.
Ellie held up one hand. “Please. You are incapable of holding back your feelings. Some people bury them, Win, but you toss them in the air like confetti.”
Our server appeared and set down a plate. “Ladies, the grilled peaches and burrata with prosciutto and arugula.”
“Did we order this?” I looked at the dish, my mouth watering.
“I don’t think we did, but it looks amazing.” Ellie smiled at the server. “Some other table is probably waiting for it.”
The server shook his head. “The chef sent it out for you.”
“He did?” Ellie laughed. “Is it Mr. Lupo?”
“Yes,” the server replied.
“Please say thank you for us,” I said, spreading my napkin on my lap.
The server nodded. “Enjoy.”
Throughout the rest of the meal, extra dishes were sent out to our table—tiny, single-bite amuse-bouches that surprised and delighted us every time. A sautéed scallop dusted with walnut crumbs, a pâté topped with fig and apricot, a roasted baby beet with goat cheese and mint. Our entrées, veal for me and stuffed pork chops for Ellie, were delectable. And for dessert, which neither of us had ordered, our server brought two house-made cannoli.
Although we protested that we were too full to eat them, we took one bite and kept going. When there was nothing but crumbs left on the table, our server came over and smiled. “Did you enjoy the meal?”
“Every bite,” I said. “But I’m beyond full, so don’t bring us any more food.”
He laughed. “How about a digestif? Maybe Limoncello?”
Ellie and I exchanged a glance and shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds good.”
“I’ll be right back.” He was only gone for a couple minutes, returning with two crystal cordial glasses of icy Limoncello.
“Thank you. And please tell Mr. Lupo how much we enjoyed every bite,” Ellie said. “That was so nice of him to spoil us all night.”
The server nodded, placing his hands behind his back. “You must be good friends.”
“He’s good friends with my parents,” she explained, taking a tiny sip of Limoncello. “I grew up calling him Uncle Nick.”
He looked confused a moment. “The chef tonight is Gianni Lupo. Not his father.”
Ellie’s mouth fell open. “Gianni was the chef tonight? Dammit! If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have eaten all those things he sent out.”
“Right,” I said knowingly. “Because we turn down house-made cannoli all the time.” I looked at the server. “Please let him know everything was wonderful, including the service. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He nodded and backed away. Ellie set down her drink and took out her wallet.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“I’m getting ready to leave. Any minute now, Gianni will come out here and gloat that we devoured all his stupid amazing food.”
“Ellie, you should be happy he’s so good. He’s coming to work for Abelard.”
“Well, I’m not. He bugs me.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to move on from high school grudges?” I picked up my chilled glass and took a sip of the sweet, tangy liqueur.
“I would if he didn’t still act like he was in high school and all girls should fall at his feet and everything he does is so clever and cute!”
“Evening, ladies. Talking about me?” Gianni appeared at our table in his white chef coat, looking pleased with himself.
“Thank you so much for everything tonight, Gianni.” I smiled at him while Ellie scowled into her Limoncello. “It was delicious.”
He bowed slightly. “My pleasure. I’m glad you liked it.”
“We loved it.”
Gianni looked at a seething, silent Ellie and grinned at me. “I don’t think your friend here agrees.”
“She does. She just can’t find the words to say how good it was.”
He laughed. “Well, I should get back to the kitchen, but I wanted to thank you for coming in and let you know everything is on the house tonight.”
“No way,” snapped Ellie. “We’re paying for it. Bring us the bill.”
“There’s no bill to bring you.” Gianni shrugged. “Just tip your server.”
“That’s really generous of you,” I told him. “Please come over to Cloverleigh Farms soon so I can return the favor.”
“I’d love to,” he said warmly. “I know the chef there, and I think she’s great. Really smart and creative.”
I smiled. “You’re always welcome.”
He looked at Ellie, and pointed at me. “See, that’s how you treat people, Héloise,” he said, giving her name the correct French pronunciation. “I’m beginning to think it’s good that you work down in a cellar and not front of house.”
“Bye, Gianni,” I said, wishing he’d just leave before Ellie lost her cool completely.
“Ciao, ladies. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With one last boyish grin, he went back to the kitchen.
“Okay, he’s gone,” I said, watching him disappear into the kitchen. “You can stop turning purple.”
“I can’t help it,” she blustered. “He infuriates me.”
I sighed and picked up my drink. “Come on, let’s finish up and tip our waiter. I don’t want to be out too late.”
“Why’s that?” One of her brows peaked.
“No reason.” I tried to sound breezy as I looked left again. The anniversary party was long gone, but they’d forgotten the balloons. “Fifty years. That’s a long time to be married.”
“It is,” Ellie agreed.
“I wonder what the secret is,” I said. “Like why does it seem to work for some people and not others?”
“Maybe some people just aren’t cut out for that kind of long-term commitment,” Ellie mused. “You have to have a lot of patience. And be really forgiving. And be accepting of the other person’s flaws or even just the things about them that make you crazy. Because there will be plenty of those.”
I smiled. “Are you thinking about your mom and dad?”
“Yes,” she admitted with a laugh. “I love my mom, but she’s just wired so tight, sometimes I’m amazed she hasn’t snapped yet. Or that my dad hasn’t snapped. They’re so different.”
“Yeah, but I feel like your parents have a pretty good time together.” I grinned as I took a sip of my drink. “I mean, judging from the box under—”
“Stop,” Ellie pleaded, her eyes desperate. “I beg you not to finish that sentence.”
I laughed and set my glass down. “Okay. But all I’m saying is, that kind of chemistry matters.”