Phyllis was already measuring out flour and salt and preparing to cut in the butter. “You want them someday?”
“If it works out,” Lauren answered.
“Never married?”
Lauren flipped open her cookbook to her favorite cake recipes, recipes she’d tinkered with and doctored over the years until they were perfect, and perfectly her. “No.”
Six hours later she was in middle of bussing a table when she knew he was there.
Boone was back. She could tell, without even turning around, feeling the sizzle of energy he brought with him, an energy that surrounded him, illuminating him, making him bigger, stronger, more physical. More real. More potent.
He took his usual spot, right in the middle of the counter, and spread the newspaper out on either side of him, discouraging folks from taking the seat next to him.
“You’re back,” she said, smiling as she greeted him, aware that her hands were suddenly damp and her heart was beating a little faster than it should. He wasn’t the one for her . . . he wasn’t.
“Flew in late last night.”
“Phyllis said you were in Minneapolis.”
He nodded. “Started there, and then we played the Royals.”
“How did you guys do?”
He shrugged tiredly. “Good enough.”
“You look like you need a break. When do you get a day off?”
“Just had a day off, but it was a travel day, so it wasn’t all that relaxing.”
“Why didn’t you sleep in today, then?”
“I’m in a different time zone. But tomorrow it’ll be better. The first day home is always the hardest.”
She nodded, sympathetic. She didn’t travel, but she struggled with insomnia and knew firsthand how hard it was to function when you were sleep-deprived. “Let me get you some coffee, then.”
She took his order, left him to his paper, but kept an eye on his coffee as she took care of her other customers.
The door opened at one point, flooding the café with sunshine. Lauren paused and glanced out the open door at the cloudless blue sky. Beautiful day. But then, Napa had been beautiful all weekend—those golds and greens of the wine country were so inviting.
When Boone’s order came up, she brought him his meal, plus a small dish of her bread pudding with the bourbon sauce. “I want your opinion about the bread pudding,” she said. “That is, if you like bread pudding.”
“I love bread pudding. It’s one of my mom’s specialties.”
“Well, I can’t wait to hear what you think.”
He tried it right there and then, taking a big bite with his spoon. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, took another bite. “It’s good,” he said with a nod. “Really good.”
She leaned in, hearing an unspoken but in there somewhere. “So what’s wrong with it?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“No, there’s something. I hear it in your voice.”
“There is something, but it’s just my opinion. I don’t think you need the bourbon sauce. And I like bourbon sauce, and this is a good bourbon sauce, but the bread pudding is flavorful on its own, and I think in this case, the sauce overwhelms everything else.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So are you going to add the bread pudding to the menu?”
“Only if you think I should.”
“I think you must.”
She smiled, refilled his coffee, and moved on to take care of her tables, but she hummed as she worked, happy.
He really liked her bread pudding. Her day was a success.
It wasn’t until he looked ready to go that she returned to the counter and presented him his check.
“Do you ever get back to New Orleans?” she asked, glancing around to make sure no one needed her. But things had slowed down. Tables were emptying out and there were no customers waiting to be seated.
“Haven’t in a while, but I’ll be moving back when I retire.”
“You have family there?”
“My mom.”
“She must be happy that you’ll be going back.”
“She is.”
“Does she ever come watch you play?”
“She’s not a big fan of baseball. Mom hoped I’d go to med school. Wanted me to be a doctor like my dad. But I wasn’t interested in medical school. Have never wanted to do anything but play ball.”
“So what will you do when you retire?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far.”
“What do most players do when they retire?”
“Depends on the player’s age, and experience. Some guys have to get a job right away, others enjoy retirement. I know a lot of guys who sell cars, or start a business. Some of the smarter ones are able to live off their investments.”