“Hi, Tilly,” Gail said.
“Great to see you back,” the waitress responded.
“It’s great to be home. We’d like a booth, please.”
Pressing a hand to her chest as if her heart was beating too fast, Tilly glanced at Simon, but looked away as soon as he met her eyes. “Right this way.”
She took two menus from the holder but dropped one. When Simon caught it before it could hit the floor and gave it back, she muttered, “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.”
Gail sent Simon a conspirator’s smile as Tilly marched ahead of them, but someone else hailed her before they could reach their seats.
“Gail!”
Simon turned at the same time Gail did to see Callie, the friend who’d made it clear she wasn’t happy to have Simon in Gail’s life, sitting at a table—with Matt.
* * *
Gail wasn’t sure how to react. Simon wouldn’t want to be waylaid by Matt or Callie, but Callie was one of her best friends, and nothing had happened between her and Matt that prevented them from being friends, too. They’d never even been a couple.
Still, it felt awkward to stand and talk at their table, and even more awkward when Callie put her on the spot by insisting she and Simon join them.
“Are you sure?” Gail asked. “I mean…haven’t you already ordered?”
“Not yet. We got here just before you.” The way Callie said it led Gail to suspect this might be a test to see how she’d react now that she was married to Simon.
Gail didn’t want Callie to think having Simon as her husband would make her any less receptive to her friends. “In that case…” She nearly sent Simon an apologetic glance, but knew Callie and Matt would see it, too, and recognize it for what it was. So she didn’t look at him. She returned Callie’s smile as she accepted, and even though Callie slid over, making a place for her, she sat on Matt’s side. With Simon’s right hand still bandaged, he needed to eat with his left. And Matt was so big she couldn’t imagine cramming another guy into the booth next to him.
“Have you eaten here since you’ve been back?” Gail could feel Simon’s gaze on her as she addressed Matt.
The glower that had descended on Matt’s face when Simon approached the table eased, as if he’d won a small victory when she sat beside him. “Once. I plan to come as often as possible before I have to leave.”
Gail took the menu Tilly handed her. “When will that be?”
“Whenever I’m capable of running without pain.”
“It’s terrible what happened to your knee. How’s the therapy going?”
“Okay. At least I get to be home while I do it.”
Tilly gave Simon his menu as Gail asked, “Who are you working with? Curtis?”
“Yeah.”
Curtis Viglione was one of the best therapists in the country. He saw a lot of professional athletes. After building a reputation and a considerable clientele in the San Francisco Bay Area, he’d moved to Whiskey Creek three or four years ago—Gail couldn’t remember exactly when. Now he had athletes come to his state-of-the-art center built in the hills about a mile outside town. “From what I hear, he’s a miracle worker. Sounds like you’re in great hands.”
Matt nodded, but his eyes kept moving to Simon, who was glaring at him. Why Simon would bother with this little rivalry, Gail couldn’t say. There was no point in acting possessive or jealous when he didn’t really care about her. But she figured it might be part of what he felt was expected of a husband, another aspect of playing his role.
Regardless, it made her uncomfortable. She wanted her friends to like him, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. Maybe it was just so they wouldn’t think she was foolish for marrying him.
She cleared her throat to gain Simon’s attention. “What looks good?” she asked, but he didn’t get a chance to answer. Tilly was still standing at the table, waiting to tell them about the daily specials. She rattled off a spiel about homemade chili and cornbread for $8.99 and beef Stroganoff with sour cream for $12.99. Then she announced that Luanne would be their server and, when she couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say, finally left.
In her peripheral vision, Gail could see Tilly whispering to two waitresses at the coffee machine. They kept turning to look at Simon, no doubt excited to have a movie star in their midst. But Gail was too wrapped up in manufacturing small talk to pay much more attention than that.
“How’s business at the studio, Callie?” she asked.
“Busy. I’ve been doing lots of family portraits. And a few weddings.”
“You’re a photographer?” Simon asked.
“I am.” She offered him a fake smile. “I would’ve been happy to photograph you and Gail at your wedding—but of course you didn’t really have one.”
Gail jumped in before Simon could respond. “We wanted to keep it simple.”
“You certainly accomplished that,” Callie said. “It doesn’t get any simpler than a few vows and ‘I do.’”
Luanne showed up with water for Gail and Simon; Callie and Matt already had theirs. She said she’d be back to take their order in a few minutes, but Gail caught her before she could leave, insisting they were ready now. They hadn’t even looked at the menu, but she wanted to get this dinner over with as soon as possible.
They all fell silent while they quickly perused the meal selections. Then Gail ordered the meat loaf, Simon the pot roast, and Callie and Matt went for the chili. After Luanne left, Matt spoke up. “So…how’s married life?”
Simon gave him a smile that, to Gail’s eye, looked a little too deliberately satisfied. “Second time’s the charm.”
“Too bad it didn’t work out that way for your father. How many times has he been married, anyway?”
Gail winced at Matt’s choice of subject, and the derision in his voice. She doubted he’d heard, but the fact that Tex was in town somehow made it worse.
“I haven’t kept track,” Simon said.
“Are you two planning to have children?” Callie asked.
Were her friends purposely trying to embarrass Simon? Gail answered, just in case. “Probably not.” She’d wanted to limit the conversation on that subject by sounding resolved. But she’d seemed too reconciled to not having kids. She could instantly tell that Callie was not pleased with her response.