“It’s bittersweet,” Del finally said, after blowing his nose. “Trim was…”
“Yeah, I know Delly.” And she did know, she’d been part of the process when he’d been figuring out the menu, digging archives and family cookbooks for things he might’ve missed in the first ten times he’d done it over the years.
Del cleared his throat. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give Paul a call, let him know Clyde is poaching.”
“All right. You hang in there, Del. Love you.”
“Love you too. Tell the family I said hi.”
They ended the call and Del got up to get himself a glass of lime-mint water from the fridge. He didn’t drink these days, but he’d once loved mojitos and well, sometimes it was all about the little pleasures.
He wandered to his office in the back of the house with his drink and cell phone, and sat down heavily. He felt old suddenly. Instead of dwelling on it, he called his lawyer.
Paul Winters answered almost immediately. “Del, hi.”
“Hey, Paul. Guess what?”
“What did Clyde do now?” Paul’s tone went into the pissed off rumble it always would. Neither of them had had the most positive experience with Clyde during the divorce proceedings.
“He called Bernice and tried to buy the Stew recipe,” Del replied calmly, then pulled the phone away from his ear to let Paul cuss out a storm in peace and without damage to Del’s own ear drums.
“But she doesn’t even have it!” Paul scoffed. “Did he actually offer her money?”
“I think it was heavily implied. He knows he can’t actually offer to buy anything from anyone in my family, so…you know.” Clyde was rich as fuck, but he wasn’t stupid.
“All right. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll make a note of it, in case we need this later, but let’s hope he gives up.”
“Trim isn’t doing so well,” Del said quietly.
Paul knew what Trim had meant to him. The fact that Del was sitting in the old house was a testament to that. He’d used all his savings to hire Paul so he knew Clyde would pay every cent for Del’s half of the restaurant. Well, that, and to make sure the divorce ran as smoothly as it could.
Once Del had gotten the money from Trim, he’d been pretty much set for a new life, but instead, he’d run back into his grandma’s house in bumfuck Oregon. He’d needed the comfort, and somehow, he was there still, a year later.
“So I’ve understood. You know that’s not on him and the people who matter know it too, right?” Paul sighed. “Look, Del, I might’ve never told this to you before, but I might as well now: Trim isn’t your legacy.”
Del blinked, not sure what to make of the statement.
Paul continued before he could gather enough words together for a sentence. “I don’t know if the cookbook is, either, but it’s a start of building something new. Maybe you’ll never own another restaurant, but you sure can run one. But first, you need to figure out what you really want out of life.”
“Yeah,” Del replied in lieu of saying anything intelligent. It smarted to hear the words from Paul who had become a trusted friend in the couple of years they’d known each other.
“Look, I got to go, I’m prepping yet another divorce settlement, but call me if you need me, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. Bye, Paul.” Del disconnected the call and put the cell on his messy desk.
* * * *
Del had met Clyde when he was twenty-five and working at a restaurant in Sacramento. Clyde had been everything Del wasn’t; self-assured, from old money, and college educated. He’d also been ten years older than Del, and a friend of the restaurant’s owner, Tony.
Del had been flattered with the attention Clyde gave him. The special thanks sent to the kitchen, the times he tried to chat Del up when their paths crossed in Tony’s office. Then eventually, he’d been waiting for Del out the back when he got off shift, and…well, the rest was history.
Del’s parents had been delighted that he’d met someone so sophisticated as Clyde, and when they got engaged couple of years later and married the next summer, well, they’d been so happy
When Clyde gifted him a half of a really nice restaurant in San Francisco and told him to go wild with it, Del ran with the idea. Clyde was happy in the office or wining and dining potential suppliers of rare, top quality goods.
Clyde had been the front of the operation, and Del had been happy in the kitchen, running a tight ship. Sadly, after more than six years of marriage, Del realized Clyde was cheating. The fact that he’d chosen Trim’s business manager, Diana, to do it with was a whole other can of worms.