The Owl & Moon Cafe: A Novel (No Series) (39 page)

Lindsay came into the room dressed in slim new jeans and a long-sleeved Gap T-shirt. As petite as she was, she did not look twelve; she looked days shy of leaving her family for college. “What are you guys trying to do for my sake?”

Mariah smiled sheepishly. Gammy would say, You can fight the tide or let it carry you. “To get along with your grandfather.”

Mariah watched the way her daughter looked at each person, reading his or her expressions and body language. Ever since she could toddle upright, her daughter could read hearts the way fortune tellers did Tarot cards. Apparently all that time she had been taking the burden of what she learned to her tummy.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, “because I love all of you.”

Mariah’s heart cleaved in two.

“Dinner ready!” Cricket called from the kitchen.

The dining room had whitewashed walls with the occasional piece of decorative straw poking through. Above their heads natural beams supported an iron chandelier forged to look like branches. The sideboard held Nambe bowls and platters, and a Christmas cactus so enormous and full of buds that Mariah couldn’t imagine the stress of keeping it alive. Dr. Goodnough uncorked the wine and poured her a glass. The first sip reminded her of how stupid she’d behaved on Thanksgiving. She pushed her chair back to see if Cricket needed any help serving, and the tiny housekeeper snapped at her with a napkin.

“You, guest. Sit. Serving my job, not yours.”

“Might as well cave in,” Al said. “My housekeeper makes a formidable opponent.”

“Formidable,” Lindsay said, “is a word with three different meanings. One that hardly anybody thinks of is ‘to inspire respect because of ability.’ That’s what Dr. G means, Mom. It’s not like Cricket would ever hurt anyone. She’s really nice.”

“Smart girl, Dr. G granddaughter,” Cricket said.

Nice or not, this wasn’t like being out with Fergus in a restaurant, where the server was earning his or her money, and being extra nice for the tip. This was the pie chart leaping to life again. The stratum was unmistakable. The richest were bluebloods, lucky enough to be born into old money. Next came the upper-upper class, and then the just plain upper, who’d worked their way there. It was miles down the chart before gender, race, people working two or three jobs, those immigrants who left their families in their country of origin and sent money to them while the children grew up without a parent figured in. Mariah’s head began to ache. She wanted two aspirin, Lindsay’s stomach to be perfectly fine, her mother to stop being nice to her, and Gammy to move to a retirement village that offered bingo tournaments every evening and Mass every morning. She wanted Fergus to forget about Scotland, ask her to get an apartment together, Simon and his cop to work out, and if she could not find a teaching job, then at least she wanted a freaking vacation. She put her head in her hands and the weight of it surprised her. How had she managed all these years to hold it up on her skinny neck?

“What’s wrong, honey?” Allegra said. “Are you sick?”

“Just a headache,” Mariah said, looking up. “Sometimes I get migraines,” she said.

“I didn’t know that,” Allegra said.

“She gets them once a month,” Lindsay said. “When the weather changes or she gets her period.”

“Lindsay!” Mariah snapped.

“What? Migraines coincide with hormone levels, at least that’s what the medical literature says. If you kept a migraine journal, my data would be much more relevant.”

“I can get you something a little stronger than aspirin if you like,” Dr. G said, “but you can’t drink any more wine, and you’ll need a ride home.”

“I’ll be fine with aspirin and a cup of coffee,” Mariah said. Lindsay ran to fetch her both.

Allegra got up from the table and began to rub Mariah’s shoulders, and inside her the dam broke. Her always-difficult mother was using what little energy she had to work the knots from her daughter’s shoulders. Mariah felt tears slide down her cheeks, and didn’t bother to stop them.

“How’s that?” Allegra said a few minutes later.

“Good,” Mariah managed, wiping her face with her napkin. “Mom, you look so happy.”

Allegra smiled. “I could buy a tiara from Tiffany’s and never look as beautiful as you and Lindsay. You two are the masterpieces. Thanks for letting her stay over. I’ve missed her so much.”

“Then why don’t you come home?” Mariah said. “Why don’t you get your butt back in the kitchen and run your business?”

There was a brief intermission while Cricket served them soup.

“Cricket, this smells wonderful,” Allegra said.

“Hah,” Cricket answered her. “It not only smell wonderful but taste wonderful and you going to eat it all up or I make you sit here all night until you finish.”

“Cricket raised four sons,” Dr. Goodnough said. “Two live in Silicon Valley and are computer programmers. The other two are finishing up med school.”

“All good boy,” she said. “They eat this soup every week. This is good Korean soup. Encourage health.”

“What’s in it?” Lindsay said.

“Good food,” Cricket said, setting the tureen on the table. “Daikon radish, yellow squash, green onion, dry kelp, which also call
dashi,
cabbage, tofu, and one hot pepper. This soup cure cold, mend heart, and encourage will to live. So easy to make you should serve at your restaurant and give me co-mission.” She untied her apron and bunched it up in one hand. “Okay. My job done for today. I go home now and feed my birdies.”

“What kind of birds do you have?” Lindsay asked.

“You ask too many question, Miss Dr. G’s nosy granddaughter. For your information, my birdies all canaries. Sing good when you feed hot pepper seed. Maybe I bring you picture sometime. You leave dishes in sink, I wash tomorrow.”

She left the room, and they all looked down at their bowls at the same time. They smiled like civilized people. They lifted silver spoons that didn’t need polishing but would get it tomorrow anyway. They ate. And wonder of wonders, Lindsay helped herself to a second dumpling.

“Remember, no food after midnight,” Dr. G said.

“How can I eat when I’ll be asleep?” Lindsay said.

“Is business going okay?” Allegra asked. “I imagine with the monarchs’ return, you’re doing about twenty-five percent above average. I hope you ordered more paper goods. We run out fast when tourists arrive. How are the Christmas baking orders?”

“I’m taking care of it,” Mariah answered.

“How’s Gammy?”

“She gets tired quickly. I think we need to hire two wait-people,” she said, just to see what Allegra would make of it. “Gammy can’t stay on her feet that long, and if you’re not sure when you’re coming back…”

Allegra nodded, and took hold of Dr. Goodnough’s hand. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?”

Allegra nodded. “Babe, I’ve decided to sign The Owl and Moon over to you.”

“You’re giving me the restaurant? What am I supposed to do with it? I’m a teacher, not a cook.”

“Well,” Allegra said, “you could hire someone to run it. I’m sure Simon would jump at the chance. You could rename it, change the menu, serve dinner, or you could lease the space and rake in the rent. However, there’s a deal breaker. I don’t want you to ever sell it.”

“I don’t understand. If you sold it, you and Gammy would be set for life.”

“Oh, I could never do that. Not just because the land is so valuable, but also because it’s the Moon women’s chunk of the earth. When Myron died, it was the only thing Gammy had left. I had no idea of the details of their marriage until I overheard you talking that day in the café. But what matters is that it’s precious to her, just as it is to me, and I hope to you and Lindsay.”

Mariah noticed how quiet and pinch-lipped Lindsay had become. “That’s a generous offer. Can we talk about it later?”

“Sure,” Allegra said.

“If you need waiters,” Lindsay said, “can I have a job?”

Both Mariah and Allegra turned to Lindsay at the same time. “You are not going to work as a waitress the rest of your life,” they said in unison, then looked at each other, and Mariah thought if this were any other time in their lives they would have laughed.

“How about the Lakers this season?” Dr. G said. “Kobe’s amazing.”

“What are Lakers?” Lindsay asked.

Dr. G sighed. “I can see I have my work cut out for me.”

“Gammy and I were always going to give it to you, honey,” Allegra said. “That was the plan from day one. Believe me, we have offers every week to sell the property. We both feel that if you hang on to it, by the time Lindsay goes to college, it’ll be worth so much she can mortgage it and go to Harvard, Yale, Juilliard, wherever she wants.”

“Mother,” Mariah said fighting back tears as she looked at Allegra’s hardly touched soup. “You have to eat your dinner.”

Dr. G put his arm around Allegra’s shoulders. “Mariah’s right. Otherwise, my dear heart, you are definitely looking at a feeding tube.”

“You’re both such meanies,” she said, and lifted her spoon.

While Lindsay and Dr. Goodnough fooled around on the computer, Allegra took Mariah outside. “Come sit on the deck for a while,” she said. “Take off your shoes and wiggle your toes in the sand.”

Mariah would rather have lost another teaching job than have this conversation. “It’s too cold for you out here.”

“Two minutes won’t kill me. Sit. Pretty please?”

Mariah felt the sand slide into her shoes, and hoped the cool air would clear her head enough so she could drive home.

“How’s that handsome Scotsman?”

Such a typical Allegra question. Cut to the heart of things without warning. “Going home to Scotland for the holidays. Going back there permanently in May.”

“Bummer. That must take the joy out of sex.”

Always with the sex. “Well, he’ll be back in February,” Mariah said. “When he leaves for good, he leaves. I knew that from the start.”

“You still have five months,” Allegra said. “A lot can happen in that chunk of time. What do you think, babe? Is he the one?”

“The
one
what? I like him. He’s smart, but he’s a citizen of another country who’s leaving here in May.”

“So?” Allegra said.

“So what?” Mariah answered.

“Mariah, if he’s the real deal, you go after him. Don’t make the mistakes I did. Go to Scotland if you have to. Don’t let him get away.”

“Be realistic. When would I have time to undertake a project like that?”

“Hire a manager to run The Owl and Moon. Al and I will watch Lindsay. Gammy can stay at the apartment by herself, or come here and stay with us. We’ll make sure Lindsay gets to school and does her homework. If you see your happiness out there on the horizon, honey, you run for it like hell’s hounds are on your heels. Don’t let somebody else steal it.”

“Sounds like something Gammy would say.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Mariah remembered when her mother excused her from school for the day to hear Noam Chomsky lecture on Middle East policy and the American Peace Movement, which made Mariah miss her world history exam. Cronkite was fussy that day. They rode the bus to Berkeley, and stopped for organic juice. Mariah’s solid A turned to a B because she missed that test. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m still mad at you, too.”

“Mother, how can you justify being mad at me? I’m not the one who kept a monumental secret. I’m the one you kept the news from for thirty-four years. I’m the injured party!”

“Oh, Mariah, don’t talk to me about injuries. Embrace this miracle,” Allegra said. “All your life you’ve been badgering me for his name. I finally give it to you and what thanks do I get? Screamed at on our first family holiday. Humiliated in front of your father.”

“Well, to be fair, you had months to talk to me.”

“Maybe I was too embarrassed. Did you ever think of that? Have you no compassion for the stupid sixteen-year-old girl who gave birth to you? Did I make you feel bad when you got knocked up with Lindsay? I opened my arms. Try imagining Lindsay three years from now giving birth to a baby.”

“That will never happen.”

“How do you know? Are you planning to lock her in a convent? Mariah, life’s messy, embarrassing, sometimes everything you know falls to pieces and you pick yourself up, get rearranged, and then boom, you get cancer, and like some kind of cosmic joke the man you love arrives.” She threw up her hands. “That’s it, the extent of my motherly wisdom. If you want a pithy saying you’ll have to go to Gammy.”