Just Add Spice

“My stomach started growling as soon as I walked through the door.” Despite the fact he’d already eaten. There was no passing up Vesta’s food. She was the family’s best cook.

“Where’s Uncle Frank?” Rafe asked as he settled at the table with his food and coffee.

She joined him with an espresso in her hands. “Off to Sonoma with your grandparents. They wanted to pick up some wine from Viansa.” A quaint winery they frequented.

“I’m sure they’ll spend the day sampling,” he said with a chuckle.

“That’s why they personally buy cases instead of having them shipped.”

Rafe ate half the toast while Vesta watched him. Waiting patiently. When he set his fork aside, she asked, “Problem with Jenna?”

He sat back in his chair. “I have all of these thoughts in my head that aren’t coming together. They’re taunting me, and I know I have to figure them out.”

“Tell me.”

He sighed. “Aunt Zelda and Uncle Joe came into the restaurant last night

with their brood. They completely overwhelmed her. She had to spend a few minutes in the kitchen regrouping.”

“But she’s used to being surrounded by people.”

“It’s not the same. The people she’s surrounded by are all involved in her work projects. They have something to do, not dote on her. And her fans don’t pick at her and hug her and kiss her. She’s never really dealt with the touchy-feeling stuff. I suspect her parents weren’t very affectionate, and so she’s not used to being around such demonstrative people.”

“Hmm. I hadn’t noticed her discomfort. She hides it well.”

Rafe thought back to some of the family get-togethers Jenna had attended and said, “She smiles and nods, but then she slips away for some breathing room.”

“Well.” Vesta stood and took her empty cup to the counter.

“Don’t be offended. She adores you. She adores everyone. This is just a lot for her to deal with.”

“I’m not offended,” Vesta said over her shoulder, looking surprised he’d inaccurately surmised that. “And I know Jenna is sincere. What I was thinking, tesoro mio, was how do we make her feel more comfortable? If I tell everyone not to be so ‘touchy-feely,’ as you say, she’ll know one of us has said something to the family.”

Rafe nodded. “And that’ll put her even more on edge. She wouldn’t want anyone to act differently in front of her, or curb their natural tendencies, just because they unnerve her.” Rafe finished his toast before adding, “It’s more than this, Aunt Vesta. She has a sister she hasn’t seen in thirteen years, and she hasn’t spoken to her parents in I don’t know how long. So maybe being around our family makes her more painfully aware of how estranged she is from hers.”

“Interesting observation.” Vesta poured glasses of water and returned to the table with them.

Rafe told her, “Jenna also has a best friend who doesn’t know much about her life in the RV. He was upset to learn about Linney. I don’t blame him. I was upset when I found out she’d been suffering in silence at our family functions.”

He stood and paced the large kitchen. Mere seconds later, he drew up short and muttered, “Shit.” He planted his hands on the kitchen island and dropped his head.

“Tesoro mio,” Vesta scolded.

Rafe lifted his head. Ignoring the reprimand, he said, “Even when Jenna was traveling and working so much those first two years, we were still always connected. I missed her, yes. And I wanted her with me. But I talked to her every day and…she was still mine.”

Vesta gazed at him with notable concern.

Rafe said, “I thought about this previously, but I didn’t have the chance to delve too deep. I suppose it’s time I do… It wasn’t until after I filed for divorce that things truly fell apart for us and we stopped talking every day. A couple of months slipped by, neither one of us attempting to reach the other. It was only when I couldn’t take the separation any longer that I called her for the first time since she’d signed the papers. We went on and on about everything under the sun. Then realized we’d been on the phone for two or three hours and finally hung up. We’ve repeated that every two or three weeks from that day forward.”

Naturally, Rafe would spend days afterward with a rock in his gut and a sharp pain in his chest—missing her like hell.

His heart sank now as he faced a very disturbing and disconcerting truth.

“I did this to us.”

“Oh, tesoro mio.” His aunt’s hand covered his.

Rafe groaned. “Maybe she wasn’t around a lot those first two years, but we were still together. And she did have a home, even if she wasn’t accustomed to thinking of the loft and the restaurant and the family in those terms. What if—”