When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,78
reservation right now.”
Chapter Thirty — Christmas Eve
“This is nice.” I admired the wooden floor and the lit candles on the tables as we passed them by. “Why didn’t you bring me here before, Abby?”
“Because Top House is too expensive,” Abby said over her shoulder, following the waiter to our table.
“I hope I can afford it, or you’ll have to wash the dishes.” Father chuckled behind us.
When we were young, one of my father’s favorite jokes had been that we might have to wash dishes to pay for dinner. Abby and I had caught on to his teasing eventually, but once in a while, in true dad style, he still made that comment.
“This is your table.” The waiter set the menus down and then another waiter filled our water glasses. Shortly thereafter, he returned with a basket of assorted warm bread and took our orders.
“What do you want from Santa Claus, Ty?” My mother asked as she set a piece of sourdough bread on Tyler’s plate and then passed the basket to Dad.
Tyler was so preoccupied with the model ship that my mother had to ask him twice.
He jerked a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe my own tablet. I always have to ask my mom for hers.”
“What happened to wanting toys for Christmas?” Father shook his head and spread butter on his bread. “Times have changed.”
“What do you want for Christmas?” Tyler glanced between his grandparents.
“I already got mine,” my mother said. “I’m here with my two lovely daughters and my only grandson. I wonder if I’ll get another one.” Mom looked at me.
My mother never pressured me to get married, but once in a while she would make comments like that.
I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not married so don’t ask.”
“Anyone special?” my father asked.
Before I could answer, Tyler tugged my mother’s blazer. “Where do babies come from? How do you make a baby?”
The four of us looked at each other and laughed.
“Oh, look Ty,” I said to distract him. No one was going to answer him, anyway. “Did you see the Christmas tree? Isn’t it beautiful?”
“I like the lights hanging down the windows.” Tyler pointed with his ship. “We don’t have those at our house.”
“Maybe next year.”
“Are you coming next year?”
“Of course. Last year was different. I was really busy at work. But I promise to see you every Christmas.”
“Promise?”
“I pinky promise to the unicorns, rainbows, and all the sparkling things.”
The latter part came out without thought. Tyler pinched his eyebrows, looking baffled. Bridget would understand. My heart hurt more than it should.
I just needed time. Time would mend all things.
The waiter brought us our meals, left, then came back with a bottle of wine.
“I don’t think we ordered that,” Father said hesitantly to the waiter.
“No, you didn’t, but your friend told me to open the finest wine for this table.”
“Who?” Mother asked. With her fork in one hand and her knife in the other, she looked dangerous.
“Mr. Medici.”
I shot my gaze to Abby and then glanced around from the front to the back of the restaurant. Many tables were occupied, but he was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if my sister messaged him to let him know we were here. She had been suspiciously texting someone. But why would she? He didn’t care what I was doing tonight.
“Is Mr. Medici here?” I asked.
“Yes. He’s in one of the private rooms.” He waved a hand toward the back.
“Well, you can take it back and tell—”
Abby covered my mouth. “Please tell him we said thank you.”
The waiter poured the wine and left.
“Who’s Mr. Medici?” Father took a bite of his steak. “This is delicious.”
“Slow down.” Mother patted his arm.
Father ignored Mother and drank his wine and smacked his lips. “Wow. This is very good. Who is Mr. Medici? Did you already answer that?”
“No one,” Abby and I answered hastily at the same time.
“How can he be no one?” Father scooped up some mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Is he Kate’s latest? Is he that guy who cheated on her?”
“No, Dad.” I ran a hand down my face and turned to Abby. “Can you go thank Lee? I don’t want to see him.”
Abby glared at me and whispered, “Are you sure he was trying to set you up with his friend? He wouldn’t have sent wine over if that was the case.”
“It doesn’t matter.” My chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I’m leaving in three days. I need to get back to Los Angeles.”
I also didn’t want