“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” Quinn said. “I’ve put in a few emergency calls to chefs we’ve worked with in the past, but I haven’t heard back yet. I’m trying to get a handle on the food. Olivia had everything prepared. She’s been working with the sous chefs for two days and has full, detailed recipes for every course. I’ve asked the sous to come back so I can see how much they feel they can handle on their own. It might not be—”
“Stop, Quinn. I don’t want to hear about the banquet. I want to know where to find Olivia.”
“I don’t know. She left and wouldn’t tell me—”
The rattle and shake of glass bottles echoed in the main kitchen followed by, “Hello? Anyone home?”
Tate turned into the kitchen to a delivery man with a hand truck loaded with boxes that read “Wild Turkey”.
“Oh my God,” Quinn said behind Tate. “She…she… How did she…?”
The guy unloaded the boxes and handed over a clipboard with an invoice. “If you wouldn’t mind signing for the receipt, I’ll grab the rest from the truck.”
Quinn looked past Tate’s arm to read the invoice, stamped with a big red PAID at the bottom next to an amount just shy of ten grand. Next to the words Paid in Cash. Next to Olivia’s signature.
“Cash? Where in the hell would she—“ Quinn sucked an audible breath and took a step away. “Oh no.” Her wide blue eyes teared up. “Oh shit, no.”
And she dropped her face in her hands.
“What—“ Tate started, but the delivery guy returned with another load and Tate held his questions for Quinn.
The delivery guy pointed to the bottom of the form. “If you could just sign there, beneath the other signature.”
Tate scribbled off his signature. Something he’d done thousands of times. But when he saw it there beneath Olivia’s, a weird buzz kicked off in his head. It reminded him of his signature on his marriage license with Lisa’s. Then on the divorce papers with Lisa’s.
Tate had failed. Again.
He handed the board back and asked, “Do you know anything about this delivery?”
“Only that the lady gave me a hundred dollar tip for staying past quitting time to deliver it.” He tore off the top sheet and handed it to Tate. “Have a great weekend.”
As the guy walked out whistling, Tate was sure this was going to be the worst weekend of his life.
15
Olivia was sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing one of the dog tags from her father’s military service as a young man between her fingers when her mother arrived home.
She came into the kitchen from the garage door just like she had for decades. And as soon as she lifted her gaze and saw Olivia sitting there, Olivia knew Quinn had told her everything.
; “Olivia.” She was shocked and a little breathless. Her brow pulled and her lips quivered. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re still here. I thought you’d be gone.”
The pain that had receded over the last hour collected again and yanked in Olivia’s gut. She didn’t respond, not sure what she wanted to say. Caught between the desire to rehash every moment of the last ten years and never speaking to her mother again.
Her mother dropped her purse on the kitchen island and took a seat beside Olivia, pressing a hand to her knee. “Honey—”
“Do you remember these?” She lifted the metal tag with a sad smile. “Remember how dad gave this to me for a metal shop project?”
“And you made a key ring out of it,” her mother said. “You still have that old thing?”
“Yep. It goes everywhere I go. I always sort of felt like he was traveling with me, getting to go all the places he always wanted to go, but never got the chance.”
A sob escaped her mother and she put her fingers against her lips. “He would have liked that.”
Olivia nodded. And the tears started again. “I think he would want us to figure this out, mom.” She closed her hand around the metal and crossed her arms. “I think the way we’ve been living would break his heart.”
Her mother’s eyes closed and tears pushed beyond her lashes. The sight plunged another knife into Olivia’s heart.