Read Online The Memory of Lemon by Judith Fertig - Free Book Online

overreacting?
    â€œJust business. And I could ask you the same. Looks like you two are off to a great start.” He gave me a cool, appraising look.
    â€œWe are. Lots to celebrate,” I said, lightly, I hoped. “Ben said he’d take me to dinner because the bakery turned a profit,” I lied. “So, here we are, way ahead of projections.”
    â€œWell, cheers to you,” said Charlie, raising one eyebrow.
    He wasn’t a fool. But I decided to call his bluff.
    â€œWhy don’t you join us?” I asked.
    Ben shot me a puzzled look as I tried to telepathically tell him I was sorry that I could be ruining our date night yet again.
    I hoped Charlie would decline, say he was meeting clients or wanted an early night.
    But he didn’t. “Don’t mind if I do. And dinner will be on me. This is the most excitement I’ve had since I got back to Queen City,” Charlie said. “Which tells you a lot about this trip.” He grinned.
    As our attentive waiter was bringing over another chair for our table, Charlie held him back for a minute.
    â€œYou two get close there and let me get another photo. A memento of the trip and old friends,” Charlie said, taking his camera out of his pocket again. I didn’t want him taking another photo, but I didn’t want to look guilty, either. I forced myself to smile. He took the photos and sat down.
    When Ben sat down, I squeezed his hand under the table, and then he seemed to accept the charade.
    â€œYou got my letter last week, Neely?” Charlie asked.
    â€œI did.”
    â€œIt’s not personal, you know, just business. Have to take care of my client. But let’s not talk about that now.”
    Let’s not, I thought. But that didn’t mean the prenuptial agreement wouldn’t be on my mind for the rest of dinner.
    â€œSo, tell me about this regatta,” Charlie said, before our entrees arrived. “I’ve been to the Henley Regatta in England, all ascots and straw boater hats and lots of champagne.”
    â€œWell, this was more like sweatshirts and ball caps and empty Budweiser cans,” Ben said with a laugh.
    â€œIt’s about the environment around the Mill Creek,” I said. “Water quality and wildlife. Muskrats and blue herons and carp.”
    The waiter put my plank-roasted fish in front of me. The sauce smelled divine, but I knew everything would taste salty to me.
    â€œI hope that’s not Mill Creek carp,” Charlie joked.
    I grimaced.
    But Charlie plowed on. “Bet you two didn’t know that old John James Audubon himself once ventured up the Mill Creek from the Ohio River, the opposite of the way Ben went today,” Charlie said.
    â€œI didn’t know that Audubon was ever in Queen City,” Ben said.
    â€œJust a short while,” said Charlie. “One of my clients collects hand-colored Audubon prints, and they’re stunning. Worth a fortune. Especially the birds that are now extinct. Passenger pigeons. Carolina parroquets.”
    Charlie and Ben leaned back a bit from the table as the waiter put a sizzling steak in front of each of them.
    As we took our first bites, I tried to imagine what Queen City must have looked like in Audubon’s day, when all of this was new and green. When passenger pigeons and Carolina parroquets were unaware that their days were numbered.
    â€œThe Queen City Library has an original folio of Audubon’s birds and they turn it to a new page every day,” Charlie said, washing down his steak with a glass of red wine, the pricey Brunello he had selected. And that Luke was probably paying for.
    I wished I could turn a new page and end this evening.
    After an interminable meal and the start of a tension headache, I tried to explain myself to Ben on the way home.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our date. I should have suggested someplace off the beaten path. Can we try again next