"Mommy?"
She lifted her hand and swallowed hard, nodding as she did so. "I'm all right." she said. "I'm all right." She closed her eyes and then took a breath and forced a smile. "Let's go, honey." she said, and opened the car door.
I stepped out, still concerned. She came around and looked at the building.
"It's open only for dinners," she said. "Isn't it nice?"
Cars whizzed by on the highway as we walked around to the front. We found the door locked. It was a decorative paneled oak door. The front of the restaurant had a rich-looking wood cladding with cream-colored shutters. Mommy tapped on the glass. There were some lights on within. but they were dim. She tapped again, and we could see a door in the rear open, the light from the kitchen spilling out and silhouetting the figure of a woman who paused a moment in the kitchen doorway and then hurried toward us. In fact, she looked propelled.
Seconds later the door was unlocked, and we faced a woman about Mommy's height with light brown hair styled in medium length, curling just under her chin. She wore a headband pulling her bangs back to reveal a smooth but very lightly freckled forehead. She had large hazel eyes that brightened with happiness at the sight of us. Her smile puffed out her cheeks around her cheekbones. but I thought she had a pretty face with very soft, feminine lips and a graceful jaw line. She was a little slimmer than Mommy and actually so many years younger I wondered if it was Dallas.
"Jackie!" she screamed, ending any doubt I might have had. They embraced. She held on to Mommy, her eyes closed, and they rocked in each other's arms. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. So..."
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly. They looked as if neither would be the first to let go, so they would be holding on to each other for days. Finally Mommy pulled herself upright. and Dallas Tremont turned to me.
"This can't be Grace. It can't be. Look how beautiful you've become, and grown-up."
"I guess you know this is Dallas. honey."
I started to nod, but she surged forward and embraced me tightly, popping a kiss on my cheek.
"Welcome to Florida," she cried. "Come in, come in. Warren's in his office pounding the computer keyboard to get it to come up with more favorable numbers. How was your trip?"
"It was fine." Mommy said. "We're actually both too numb to remember anything about it." she added to bring that topic to a quick end.
Dallas paused in the entryway and nodded,
"I'll bet." Her moment of concern collapsed quickly into a wide, bright smile that centered around those big hazel eyes. It was the kind of smile that could put a prisoner on death row at ease. 'But you're here now, and you'll take some time to rest and put Florida on like a new set of clothes. Come in, come," she urged.
We stepped forward. The entryway had a hostess desk on the right with a telephone on it. Behind it was a large painting of a green-tinted lake set in the lap of two heavily wooded mountains. Deer were at the rim of the lake, most drinking but two with their heads lifted as if they had just heard us enter the restaurant.
"You remember this," Dallas said. "Greenwood Lake. our magic mountain retreat in North Carolina. To this day Warren moans and groans about our selling that cabin. Like he would take the time off to spend a summer there anyway," she said, shaking her head.
After the entryway, there were two good-size dining areas, each with two large windows. The floor was a lighter oak, the tables darker, but all with tablecloths and vases of pretty artificial flowers. There were more paintings of mountains and lakes on the walls in each room.
"This isn't your typical Florida restaurant." Dallas explained quickly. "But that's the secret of our success, that and having the best chef on the southeastern coast. And the best service, of course." she added. "People. our regulars, whom you'll get to know quickly." she added, making the first reference to Mommy actually working there. "tell us the decor makes them feel cooler, as if they've left Florida for some mountain village. It's all smoke and mirrors when you get right down to it, isn't it? Image, decor, a show. The most successful restaurants, other than the chains, are little happenings. Warren always believed that going to a good restaurant was like going to the theater or stepping into a movie.
"He must be right. He's a successful
restaurateur. Wait until you see the quaint uniforms the waitresses and waiters wear. The waiters have these great vests, and the waitresses have little aprons sewn onto their skirts and bodices with lace collars. We look as if we're situated in the Alps or something. You'll love it," Dallas added.
I looked at Mommy. She was holding her smile, but I knew her well enough to know that smile was becoming a little plastic by now. The thought of her taking orders from people, wearing a costume, rushing about this place, filled me with a deep, dark sense of dread. Daddy would be so upset. I thought. From the wife of a naval officer to this. It wasn't that the job was beneath us or wasn't probably a good job. It was just so abrupt and so dramatic a change in lifestyle.
"We have four small private dining rooms in the rear for special parties or clientele. We get some very important people here, celebrities, wealthy Palm Beach residents who cross the moat to mingle with the masses."
"The moat?" I said.
Dallas laughed, "That's what Warren calls the Hagler Bridge. You cross it to enter Palm Beach."
"I thought we were in Palm Beach." I s
aid, looking at Mommy.
Dallas laughed again. "Oh, no. honey. Don't ever let a Palm Beach resident hear that. This is West Palm Beach. Palm Beach is a country unto itself, another planet. Some of the wealthiest people in the world live there. They think it's one level below heaven."
She smiled at Mommy and shrugged. "Who knows, maybe it is." She turned to me. "After you guys get settled in, you'll do some touring and go to Worth Avenue, and then you'll understand. Don't worry about it," she said. "In a matter of days you'll be like an old-timer here, and when you meet people with flies up their noses you'll laugh them off.
"Let's say hello to Warren, and then I'll show you to your condo in Palm Beach Gardens. It's only about twenty minutes away, which will make it really easy for you. Jackie. I was thinking Grace might enroll in the school Phoebe attends, Unless you were thinking of a private school for her. They are pretty expensive."