“Last fall. September. But it’s just temporary.”
“That’s good. Napa wouldn’t be the same without her.”
“And that’s what we keep telling her.” Lisa drew a quick breath. “Meg, honestly, I’d cater the reception myself, if it weren’t for this darn pregnancy. It’s been difficult and I’ve been on and off bed rest the entire time.”
“You’re pregnant, Lisa?”
“Eight months.”
“How wonderful!”
“Thank you. Matthieu and I are really looking forward to meeting our little one.” Lisa paused and the silence stretched over the line. “I’m so sorry, Meg, about Jack. I can only imagine how difficult this time is for you. Please know that our thoughts and prayers are with the whole family.”
“Thank you,” Meg whispered, her voice failing her.
“I’ll make some calls. Talk to my friends who are in the business. Maybe I can find someone who can help you on Friday.”
“That’d be great.”
“It will come together, Meg.”
“Yes. It will. And thank you.”
That had been twelve hours ago, and so far, nothing from Lisa, and no nibbles from any other caterers.
Too bad Jack hadn’t checked his calendar before crashing, realized that spring break wasn’t a great time for dying . . . far better to wait a couple of weeks.
Grimacing at her gallows humor, Meg left her bed and walked to the window with the view of the hills and valley, the sky a black canvas dotted with stars.
Looking up into the sky, she thought of her mom, and wished desperately that Mom were here with her now.
Meg sat down on the upholstered cushion of the window seat, amazed that just a year ago everything had been calm, uneventful. Mom had been healthy. Meg’s marriage had been solid. Life was good.
Maybe too good, because she hadn’t even known it. Hadn’t appreciated it. Hadn’t realized that she was living a fairy tale, because now it was a nightmare.
Forgive me, Jack.
Help me, Mom.
Her eyes stung, and her insides felt sore, shaken, broken.
Across the room, on the nightstand, her phone suddenly buzzed.
God calling, maybe?
Meg retrieved her phone. A text from Lauren Summer, Lisa’s little sister. Have you found a caterer yet?
Meg suppressed panic as she texted back, No.
Moments later her phone rang. It was Lauren. “Meg, I am so sorry.”
Meg gulped a breath. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t know. I only found out this evening when Mom forwarded me the obituary from the paper. I called Lisa and she told me you’d asked us to help—”
“It’s fine,” Meg said in a rush, embarrassed. “I didn’t realize you’d moved to the East Bay.”
“I’m managing a little place called Mama’s Café in Alameda. It’s different from our restaurant in Napa, but it’s what I needed.”
“Change,” Meg said.
“Yes.” Lauren paused. “So. The reception. What time is? How many people are you expecting, and what would you like for the menu?”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
“Yes. So . . . how many? What time is the reception? What do I need to know?”
Overwhelmed, Meg closed her eyes. “It’s a noon service,” she said huskily, “very short, approximately thirty minutes. Everyone is invited to the house immediately after. I’m thinking we’ll have at least one hundred people, maybe one fifty, although it could be more, so a buffet, and maybe something sweet.”
“Will you want to serve alcohol?”
“I’m Irish, and it’s a funeral, so my family will definitely drink. But I think we should just stick to beer and wine.”
“Anything else?”
“Maybe your soup, salad, and sandwich buffet . . . you did it for me a couple of years ago at Halloween, and everyone thought it was wonderful.”
“You want soup?”
“Since it’s Easter . . . I was thinking carrot might be nice.” Meg hesitated. “It was Jack’s favorite.”
“Right.”
“Do you mind handling the rentals, too?”
“We’ve got it covered.”
Meg could suddenly breathe again. Finally. Something good. “You’re a godsend.”
Lauren made a soft, rough sound on the other end of the line. “I’ll see you Friday. Take care of those kids.”
* * *
Hanging up, Lauren Summer sat higher in bed, curled her legs under her, thinking and not thinking, feeling and not feeling, hoping she wasn’t in over her head.
This wouldn’t be easy.
This wouldn’t be fun.
This wasn’t something she wanted to do.