Frosting On The Cake 2: Second Helpings Part 19

Jamie shook her head, unable to answer.

"Then I'll be home on the tenth. It's just two more weeks. I'll be home and maybe we'll just stay home for Christmas. I don't care-the holidays are where you are."

Jamie mopped her eyes on a dish towel. When she could talk again she said, "Mushball. And I love you."

"Two more weeks is forever," Jamie told Lady Dog Puppy. She sat on the mud porch idly petting the glossy coat. They'd gone for a very short walk while the last pies were baking. If Jamie didn't know the breaks in the sidewalk, stairs and potholes outside the Waterview, she might have broken a leg. Val had had to experience one of their blanket fogs to believe her about just barely seeing her hand in front of her face. If the fog didn't lift she wasn't driving anywhere.

And what's more, she had a kitchen full of pies that only a few brave souls would pick up. It was a good thing they were pre-paid, and she'd freeze them, if need be, for when the fog finally did lift, but what a pain. Folks would go without their Thanksgiving desserts. "And I'm going without my lover."

She pouted her way through kitchen cleanup, and a phone call to Liesel telling her to stay home tomorrow. She did get asked to Thanksgiving dinner, an offer she accepted gratefully. She promised to bring pie.

After dinner she tried watching an episode of Val's A Month of Sundays. Val in a tool belt was still a sight that made Jamie feel swollen and wonderfully weak. It was hardly helping her frustration with the fog. She browsed through her favorite moments from Val's Iron Chef and Top Chef appearances as a guest judge. Usually, she melted when Val said, "I appreciate the science that went into making this dish. I don't know how to use a laser to cook a shrimp. But I'm not convinced this is cooking. It's sterile, and food should cross the line from art to love." After all, Val was quoting her, and it was a philosophy of cooking they both shared.

No matter, she still missed Val. She gave up on television and dialed up holiday tunes on her iPod. A lovely jazzy number from A Charlie Brown Christmas left her smiling. But Karen Carpenter's b.u.t.tery, low voice failed to comfort. She didn't want to be wis.h.i.+ng Val Merry Christmas, darling, from a distance, not ever. Not any of the holidays.

Being apart sucked, and she was sick of it.

Obviously, it was time to bake something.

Anything-but the problem was she had no customers to sell the result to, because of the d.a.m.ned fog. She really needed chocolate too. If she made chocolate goodies she couldn't even feed them to the dog. She'd read lots of places that chocolate and pooches didn't get along.

Peanut b.u.t.ter cookies, maybe. She could feed them to the dog, and top her own with some chocolate ganache. And take the rest to Liesel.

Maybe it didn't smell quite as wonderful as chocolate, but peanut b.u.t.ter, brown sugar and toffee bits filled the kitchen with sweet aromas all the same. For cooking time she settled for something between chewy and crunchy, and frosted a half dozen with ganache. One of those and two plain cookies she took with her out to the porch.

Lady Dog Puppy seemed to really like peanut b.u.t.ter cookies. The tail was definitely wagging the dog, and she chomped so vigorously that bits of cookie fell back out of her mouth. She hunted eagerly for all the escaped crumbs and searched all around Jamie's feet. Finally, she rolled over and gnawed at the toes of Jamie's clogs.

Jamie didn't crunch her own cookie quite as loudly, but the chocolate, peanut b.u.t.ter and toffee worked wonders for her att.i.tude. h.e.l.l, her needs were pretty simple too. She was happy cooking for anyone-including a dog.

"So you liked that. You have a discriminating palate." Once she finished her own cookie, she scratched the offered tummy, and let the dog out for a few moments to make one last round about the inn's back yard.

She stood in the doorway and all her loneliness seeped back into her the same way the vapor tried to seep into the house. The fog m.u.f.fled all noise, and not even the occasional crash of waves beyond the headland bluff was audible. There was a hint of dripping, then Lady Dog Puppy was back, shaking her head. The ear flapping noise made Jamie smile. Silence fell again, without even the distant sound of the highway to break it. She and the dog might have been all that was left on the planet.

With that spine-chilling thought, Jamie didn't feel the least bit guilty when she scooped Lady Dog Puppy up in her arms and carried her upstairs.

"You can't sleep on the bed. You can't shed. You can't bark."

Slurp on the nose.

"I'm serious."

She looked at the off-white carpet, then the dog's paws. A trip to the bathroom sink got Jamie more wet than the dog. She spread a thick towel near the gas-lit fireplace and grinned at the enormous sigh Lady Dog Puppy let out as she settled down. At least she'd made someone happy tonight.

The dog isn't a person, Jamie told herself. She was too tired from baking all day to be awake for long, but her last thought was that she was not replacing Val with a dog. Not in the least. No, she wasn't...

Val had called five times on the drive up from San Francisco, whenever her cell would pick up a signal. Jamie did her rounds of the merchant stores early, with Lady Dog Puppy on a lead. As if to pretend the six days of fog during Thanksgiving week had never happened, the sun blazed yellow and sharp over the deep blue of the white-capped winter Pacific, which rolled for miles to the horizon. There were even a few tourists driving through town, looking for an open eatery and maybe a shop or two. The bookstore was open, and so was one of the artist consignment stores.

The wind off the water was cold, but it blew away every last cobweb in Jamie's brain. She loved Mendocino. She didn't want to leave it. She loved Val too and the past few months had been nearly intolerable.

"I'm going to do it," Jamie said to the dog. "It's time for me to look for a serious partner and spend more of my time in New York with Val. I love running the restaurant. I love being part of the town." She peered into the window of the kitchen gadget and fresh herb store. Nothing seemed amiss. "But every year it's harder to live without her. I don't want to figure out how to live without her, either. If I do that, then..."

She didn't finish the thought. She was certain Lady Dog Puppy knew where that road went. If Jamie figured out how not to miss Val, then why even bother having Val around?

She thought of Val on the highway, knew Val was smiling as she drove. Her body was already warm and melted in antic.i.p.ation of Val's hands. Tears threatened at the idea of waking up tomorrow and finding Val in their bed, where she belonged.

"The bed in New York isn't hers, it's ours. I belong there too. I'll work on another cookbook. Think of something to keep myself busy." Val could afford to stake her in a restaurant there, but if it didn't pan out-and more than half of all restaurant ventures failed-it would intensify Val's dependence on new projects, guest shoots and more programming. "I know-the Waterview runs like a clock. I love it. I could work on a cookbook here too. If I really wanted to."

The truth was, in New York she was a show biz wife. She enjoyed being social with Val, but it brought out her jealous side when baby d.y.k.es checked her out as if they were in some kind of compet.i.tion. She trusted Val absolutely, and she didn't like herself much in New York. Of course, if she was around more, the baby d.y.k.es would find some other star to l.u.s.t after, and it wouldn't be such an issue.

The headlands were beautiful today-achingly wild as the wind tore across the gra.s.s, carrying the scent of the sea. Val was having a beautiful drive. Jamie knew Val wanted to be here. But Val also wanted to be her trademark VV, the home improvement celebrity she was. They'd dreamed often of Val being able to film her second series, Simplicity, from the Waterview, or a studio kitchen they created in one of the other buildings that often came up for rent, but the cost was prohibitive.

It was too beautiful an afternoon to be thinking about that. She turned her steps toward home with Lady Dog Puppy happily chasing leaves for as far as the lead would allow.

There was the matter of the dog too. No luck finding a home, and Liesel had refused to keep the dog for a few days while Jamie broke the news and maybe wheedled a dog run for the backyard, and a way for Lady Dog Puppy to get from the mud porch to their living suite without being able to also stray into the kitchen. It could work-if anyone could figure it out, Val could.

Lady Dog Puppy happily made for her water bowl and the rug while Jamie paused to inhale the aroma in the kitchen. Orange and spice mingled with ginger and roasting chicken. The Waterview was closed for the day. Not for a million dollars did Jamie want to be distracted when Val arrived. She had a bowl of chocolate body paint and another of marmalade...and every intention of taking Val up on her offers made over the phone.

The last hour pa.s.sed quickly, especially with Val calling. It was silly, to be talking to Val as she parked in front of the inn. Jamie burst out the door before Val had even hung up, her heart aching and full, das.h.i.+ng away tears of excitement and happiness. Val caught her with a whoop.

And kissed her.

Kissed her like the first time. Like every time.

She filled her hands with Val's thick, dark hair. The gasped half-sentences they managed to say between kisses didn't matter-they all meant the same thing.

Val pushed Jamie up onto the hood of the car and kissed her one more time. It was an X-rated kind of kiss the singed the bottoms of Jamie's feet.

"We have to go inside."

"Uh huh," Val said. She leaned back and Jamie got her first good look at her lover.

As always, she thought she was incredibly lucky that this gorgeous woman loved her. Then, with a shock, she realized she was comparing Val's face with Val's publicity photos and the way Val looked on TV. Not with her Val. Her Val was the Val with no make-up, with sleep in her eyes, and hair in wild splendor on the pillows.

She'd forgotten how Val really looked.

She blurted out, "I want to come and live with you in New York." And then her chin crumpled and she gulped for air and burst into tears.

"Honey, honey," Val soothed. Her arms were so strong, and so warm.

Jamie thought she would melt with tears and loneliness and the pleasure of Val close to her, finally.

"I mean it, Val. I'm done with living apart."

Val pushed her away just enough to be able to look into Jamie's eyes. Jamie wasn't surprised that Val also had tears in her eyes. "Me too, darling. I have a tenth anniversary gift for you. For us. I wanted to tell you in person."

Val's voice had softened and Jamie's heart leapt to her throat. Val was lit up with a smile that wouldn't quit. Her eyes sparkled, and it had nothing to do with fancy lighting.

"We syndicated to the UK last week. Full rerun package, the last seven years of A Month of Sundays and five years of Simplicity. And because Sheila got me the best agent in television, I'm going to make nearly as much from the syndication as I did the first time around. I'm home to stay, darling. Happy Anniversary, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, too."

It took a moment to sink in. Val was going to nearly double her income? Just like that? Syndication...the magic word in television. Slowly, she asked, "We can afford to build a studio for you?"

"Yes-I'm only leaving for location shoots. I'll probably sell the place in New York and use the network's rentals when I have to. I am not spending one more holiday away from you."

Val wrapped her close and didn't seem to mind the tear-soaked shoulder-she never minded.

Jamie finally had the presence of mind to get off the car and take Val inside.

They kissed and snuggled their way into the kitchen where Val took one look at the chocolate body paint and gave Jamie a look that melted her on the spot. "I love the way you plan ahead."

She had just swiped her finger through the luscious, rich mixture when scratching started at the back door.

Jamie decided to ignore it.

Then there was a bark.

Her index finger covered with chocolate, Val gave Jamie an arched eyebrow look. "Is that stray still around?"

"Uh...yes. See, honey, it..."

"Jamie-you can't have a dog in the kitchen."

"She's not in here, see? She's on the porch."

"A dog can't live out there."

"Well...not the way it is now."

Val opened her mouth to add another protest, but then they were both startled by a loud pounding on the front door of the inn. "What in h.e.l.l is that?"

Jamie walked through the dining room, shaking her head. She got to the door and said loudly, "We're closed. I'm sorry."

She was about to turn away when the middle-aged man on the other side of the gla.s.s pressed a paper to the surface.

"Did you put up this sign?"

It was the notice that read "Dog Found" and described Lady Dog Puppy.

"Yes," Jamie said slowly. "I put it up."

"Do you still have the dog?"

"Yes, she's fine."

"Thank G.o.d!" He turned his head to call, "She's here, Charlie."

Running footsteps pounded the sidewalk outside and Jamie, feeling more numb than she would have thought possible given Val's wonderful news, found herself opening the door. A little girl with short, wispy pigtails peered up at her.

"Do you have Dora?"

"Well, I have the dog I found. Come on in."

Father and daughter followed her across the empty restaurant and into the kitchen. Val was there, her finger still covered with chocolate. The man blinked at Val like he was trying to figure out how he knew her, but the little girl was following Jamie's every move.

Jamie opened the back door. Lady Dog Puppy moved back, used to Jamie picking her up to smuggle her upstairs.

"Dora!"

Lady Dog Puppy-Dora-let out a yelp and jumped into the little girl's arms.

"Bad dog," the little girl said, between sobs. "You aren't really an explorer. You shouldn't go off on your own."

Tears of joy, Jamie told herself. She had Val back, and for good, and she wouldn't miss the dog. Not much.

She refused the offer of payment from the relieved father. She accepted one last lick across the nose from Dora, though. Dora looked like she belonged with Charlie, and little Charlie was clearly going to trust for the rest of her life that miracles happened.

Dora barked what might have been a thank you as the sedan pulled away, little girl and not quite puppy in the back seat together.

Jamie locked the front door. Val was behind her, arms around her waist.

"I'm glad for the family, but sad for you, sweetie."

Jamie had thought she might cry, but it pa.s.sed. Dora was back in her home. It wasn't a sad ending. "I'm okay."

She leaned back in Val's arms. "I don't need a dog if I have you."

"That's gratifying."

Jamie lifted Val's hands from her waist and frowned at the clean fingers. "Where's my chocolate?"

"I thought we'd start over with that. In a bit. I was thinking why not a spiral pet staircase?" Val's voice had an edge of excitement, the way it got when she talked about tearing out walls and hammering stuff. "One from the porch to upstairs and one downstairs to the back yard and a dog run? Electronic collar triggers on the pet doors so we don't get squirrels."

The happiness of Val's announcement was starting to feel real, like something Jamie could keep and count on. Ten years, and they'd finally be together more than they were apart.

Turning in Val's arms, Jamie slipped a hand behind Val's neck. Nuzzling Val's mouth, she said, "We've got a studio to build first. Why don't we talk about all of that tomorrow?"

With a searing look that not one of her viewers had ever seen, Val reached for the bowl of chocolate body paint.

Stepping Stone.

Published: 2009.

Characters: Selena Ryan, independent film producer Gail Welles, actress, waitress.