“There’s a new place in Mattapoisett,” she said. “Their seafood is said to be amazing, but I don’t recall the name.”
“If you mean the Battered Cod, I’ve been there several times.” Jim nodded enthusiastically. “It’s excellent.”
Liddy was looking around the lot for the gray sedan Jim usually drove, the one Jessie had named the Gray Goose, so she was caught off guard when he stopped at the passenger door of a new sleek black Mercedes.
“What happened to the Goose?” Liddy asked.
“She needed a new alternator, and given her age, I thought it best to retire her. Besides, I was ready for something new and exciting.” Jim unlocked the door and held it for her.
Liddy slid across the soft-as-sin leather seat, a frown on her face. Were his remarks about the Goose really a metaphor for her? Had he found a newer, more exciting model? Would it be in poor taste if she asked? Would she care if he had?
“It’s lovely,” she told him after he got in and settled behind the wheel. “So how exciting is she? I mean, it.”
“Very. Remember, the old Goose and I were a team for a long time. It was time for a change.”
The drive to Mattapoisett was a short one, and in no time they were walking into the restaurant.
“Oh, Mr. Bryant. Nice to see you again,” the pretty young hostess greeted him. “Your usual table?”
“That would be fine, Brandy.” Jim took Liddy’s arm and followed the hostess to a table overlooking the harbor.
“I’ll send Nell over for your drink orders.” She handed Liddy and Jim menus.
The twentysomething Nell was there in a flash to read off the specials and inquire about beverages.
“What do you say, Liddy? Shall we start off the evening with a nice wine?” Without waiting for her response, he ordered a bottle of something that sounded expensive to Liddy. She wondered when he’d abandoned his once-frugal nature.
Then again, she could be wrong about the wine. Or so she thought until she tasted it. She’d been right the first time. This was not the vintage Jim would have brought home in the past.
He poured into both glasses and handed one to her. “Let’s have a toast.”
“What are we toasting?”
“We’re toasting us. To new beginnings.” He tilted his glass in her direction.
She raised hers, touched the rim with his, and countered, “To Jessie.”
He nodded slowly and said softly, “To Jess.”
She took a sip, hoping to wash down the lump in her throat. Would a day ever come when she could mention her daughter’s name without wanting to cry?
“What do you think of the wine?” Jim nodded in the direction of the bottle.
“It’s delicious.”
Jim held the glass in his hand and swirled it, then watched the slow whirlpool inside.
“It’s local, from a vineyard about fifteen miles from here. They’ve become quite successful, even send their wines to a few of the top restaurants in Boston.” He smiled. “They’re clients of mine.”
“Nice. Tell them we enjoyed their product.” She turned her attention to the menu.
“I recommend the lobster thermidor. It’s exceptional,” he said without taking his eyes off the menu. “That’s what I’m having. I think you’ll like it.”
He gestured for Nell to return to take the orders. “Two orders of lobster thermidor,” he told her.
“Ah, actually, make it one.” Liddy folded her menu and handed it to the waitress. “I’ll have the scallops in citrus.” When she looked across the table at Jim, he appeared slightly taken aback.
“I’ll put your orders in.” Nell went off in the direction of the kitchen.
“Thanks for the recommendation, Jim, but I am capable of deciding what I want to eat, and I can order for myself.” She spoke softly, but there was steel in her voice.
“Of course. I apologize.”
He didn’t look contrite as much as injured, Liddy thought, but that was okay. All those years they were married, he’d always ordered for her without asking her preference, and she’d always let it slide. New day, new Liddy.
“So how’d things go at your bookstore today?” he asked, and she wondered if she didn’t detect just the slightest note of patronizing in the question.
“It was fine. It’s always a fine day in my shop, Jim.”
“I think it’s great you bought it, and anyone who’d ever been inside the place when old Fred owned it has to recognize how much work you’ve done there. It looks great now. I admit when I heard you were buying it, I had my doubts, but . . .”
“What doubts were they, Jim?”
“Well, let’s face it, Liddy. You never owned a business before, and as far as I know, you never worked in retail. And I bet that shop hasn’t made a profit in five years or more.” He spoke slowly and, she thought, condescendingly, as if she couldn’t understand the implications of buying a failing business unless he spelled it out for her.
She listened attentively, bit her tongue, and waited for him to finish tying the noose around his own neck.
“I was afraid you’d tie up all the money I gave you as our settlement in a shop doomed to fail.”
“And yet, here I am, inexperienced me, with a shop doing bang-up business.” Jim opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “You’re right, I don’t have a background in any sort of business, unless you count the years I spent doing the bookkeeping for your insurance agency. Which I did learn a lot from, so thank you for the opportunity.” She kept her voice low and tried to sound as rational as possible when what she really wanted was to dump her wine—delicious as it was—over his head. “But what I do have is a quick mind and a love of books. I know what people like to read and—”
“Because you were in book clubs for years?”
“Yes. Exactly. I know books. When I first looked at the shop, I admit I saw what you saw—a failed business, a depressing old shop that did not inspire flights of fancy, which is just what a great bookshop can do. And that’s what my shop does.” She sat back and, with some satisfaction, realized she’d done exactly that. “With some help from my friends, I’ve totally changed the character of the old building. I’ve made it inviting and welcoming, and it’s on its way to becoming solvent for the first time in God only knows how long. It failed in the past because Fred was failing. He couldn’t keep up physically with the demands of running a store, and his developing Alzheimer’s, over time, meant he’d often forget to order books or keep up with the new releases and the bestsellers. I’ve talked to the salespeople from various publishers who lamented the loss of the old Fred, who once upon a time was a genius at doing what he loved.” She paused. “Don’t you remember how the shop used to be? How Jessie loved nothing more than going to the bookstore to pick out a new book?”
She was tempted to tell him how often she imagined she could see Jess there, leaning against the doorjamb at the back of the store. Liddy would smile at Jessie, and she imagined Jess would give her a wink or a thumbs-up before fading slowly until she’d disappeared.
“Jess loved that place. I bought the shop because I remembered what it once was, and I was determined to make it that place again. I can say with all confidence I’ve done what I set out to do. The people in Wyndham Beach remember what they loved about it, and are delighted it’s open again and, if I may say so, better than ever. So please don’t lecture me on what you obviously feel was a poor decision on my part. It was the best thing I’ve ever done for myself.” She paused to reflect. “Maybe the only thing I’ve done strictly for myself in a very long time. I’m doing a great job, and I am happy. I’m working harder than I’ve ever worked at anything, and I’m having the time of my life.”