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Authors: Pamela Binnings Ewen
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sacrificing her career. She would put the thoughts aside. For now.
“Let’s go out to dinner, Rebbe. I’m already in vacation mode. How about Pascal’s Manalefor barbecued shrimp?”
She turned to him, smiling. “Yes. Let’s do that.” Suddenly she was hungry. Swinging back to the mirror, she began brushing her hair again and planning what she’d pack to take along. Despite the dull lump of worry that lodged in her chest, she smiled at Peter in the mirror. “We’ll plan the trip tonight.”
He pushed off the door and glanced at his watch. “Give me half an hour. I’ve got some calls to make. I’ll be down in the study.”
As he turned away, she longed to reach out, to call him back and unburden herself right then and there—to let him hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. That their lives wouldn’t change all that much; that her career could remain intact, even with a child. That they would work this out together. She twisted around, and called to him before she could stop herself.
With one hand still on the doorframe, Peter swung back into the doorway, brows lifted, smiling. Their eyes met, and for a split second she almost told him. And then she lifted one shoulder with a little shrug, and put down the brush.
“Never mind.” She said. “It was nothing.”
Pascale’s Manale on Napoleon Avenue was, as always, crowded at seven o’clock, even on a Tuesday night. The tiled oyster bar near the door was busy. Customers sat waiting on benches in the corner of the front room under the celebrity photographs and behind the place where the oyster bar stood. The maître d’ looked at them when they came in and nodded, then entered their names on the list. Peter located two seats at the bar for the wait.
“Busy tonight,” Peter observed. He’d decided to put the case that Mac was working on a back shelf in his mind, for now. It could turn out that this was all just a terrible mistake. He didn’t want this case to put a damper on the excitement about their weekend vacation.
Peter leaned close to Rebecca, his eyes shining. “I asked Molly this afternoon to make plane reservations for Thursday, late in the day, around five or so.”
“Sounds great,” she said.
He pulled back, grinning. “Well I’m looking forward to getting away for a few days. We haven’t done this in a while.”
She told him about her new office, how large it was, and how quickly the firm had moved her in, and all about the new furniture someone had picked out for her because of the magazine interview.
“You haven’t told me about that! What magazine?”
So, she told him all the good news of the day—about the Spin-it people coming down from New York to interview her tomorrow, and about the article, how she’d been picked as one of the top ten women in the legal profession to watch on the national scene.
With a huge grin he opened his arms wide and pulled her into a hug. “I knew you’d make it in a big way, Rebbe. You’re one amazing woman.” He drew back, looking into her eyes. Then he tipped up her chin and gave her a soft, quick kiss before letting go. “I’m so proud of you.”
Smiling, she pulled back her hair, twisted it, and let it fall. “Thanks, my love. And I can’t wait for this weekend. I’m ready to go someplace far away, just the two of us.” She paused and picked up the glass of water. “I’ll have to be back by Wednesday next week at the latest though.”
Peter swung his stool around, facing her. Fingering a lock of her hair, he gazed at her. “No problem, Beauty. We’ll stay at La Sirenuse and relax.” Their honeymoon hotel.
She saw her love reflected in Peter’s eyes.
Someone called to Peter from across the room, breaking the connection between them. He waved and shouted something as she turned back toward the bar, eyeing the glittering rows of bottles near the mirror. Perhaps the place, the village, and the same hotel would bring good luck when she broke the news
“Let’s go out to dinner, Rebbe. I’m already in vacation mode. How about Pascal’s Manalefor barbecued shrimp?”
She turned to him, smiling. “Yes. Let’s do that.” Suddenly she was hungry. Swinging back to the mirror, she began brushing her hair again and planning what she’d pack to take along. Despite the dull lump of worry that lodged in her chest, she smiled at Peter in the mirror. “We’ll plan the trip tonight.”
He pushed off the door and glanced at his watch. “Give me half an hour. I’ve got some calls to make. I’ll be down in the study.”
As he turned away, she longed to reach out, to call him back and unburden herself right then and there—to let him hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. That their lives wouldn’t change all that much; that her career could remain intact, even with a child. That they would work this out together. She twisted around, and called to him before she could stop herself.
With one hand still on the doorframe, Peter swung back into the doorway, brows lifted, smiling. Their eyes met, and for a split second she almost told him. And then she lifted one shoulder with a little shrug, and put down the brush.
“Never mind.” She said. “It was nothing.”
Pascale’s Manale on Napoleon Avenue was, as always, crowded at seven o’clock, even on a Tuesday night. The tiled oyster bar near the door was busy. Customers sat waiting on benches in the corner of the front room under the celebrity photographs and behind the place where the oyster bar stood. The maître d’ looked at them when they came in and nodded, then entered their names on the list. Peter located two seats at the bar for the wait.
“Busy tonight,” Peter observed. He’d decided to put the case that Mac was working on a back shelf in his mind, for now. It could turn out that this was all just a terrible mistake. He didn’t want this case to put a damper on the excitement about their weekend vacation.
Peter leaned close to Rebecca, his eyes shining. “I asked Molly this afternoon to make plane reservations for Thursday, late in the day, around five or so.”
“Sounds great,” she said.
He pulled back, grinning. “Well I’m looking forward to getting away for a few days. We haven’t done this in a while.”
She told him about her new office, how large it was, and how quickly the firm had moved her in, and all about the new furniture someone had picked out for her because of the magazine interview.
“You haven’t told me about that! What magazine?”
So, she told him all the good news of the day—about the Spin-it people coming down from New York to interview her tomorrow, and about the article, how she’d been picked as one of the top ten women in the legal profession to watch on the national scene.
With a huge grin he opened his arms wide and pulled her into a hug. “I knew you’d make it in a big way, Rebbe. You’re one amazing woman.” He drew back, looking into her eyes. Then he tipped up her chin and gave her a soft, quick kiss before letting go. “I’m so proud of you.”
Smiling, she pulled back her hair, twisted it, and let it fall. “Thanks, my love. And I can’t wait for this weekend. I’m ready to go someplace far away, just the two of us.” She paused and picked up the glass of water. “I’ll have to be back by Wednesday next week at the latest though.”
Peter swung his stool around, facing her. Fingering a lock of her hair, he gazed at her. “No problem, Beauty. We’ll stay at La Sirenuse and relax.” Their honeymoon hotel.
She saw her love reflected in Peter’s eyes.
Someone called to Peter from across the room, breaking the connection between them. He waved and shouted something as she turned back toward the bar, eyeing the glittering rows of bottles near the mirror. Perhaps the place, the village, and the same hotel would bring good luck when she broke the news
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