"What are you going to do with yourself?" Jeremy retreats to his desk and I take a seat in front of it.

"I'm going to run Dad's restaurant," I say.

"What?"

"I'm going to manage Cafe Louis. It's what I want to do. I think."

"Think harder, Mimi. Running Cafe Louis isn't a reasonable option."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because we're selling the restaurant," Jeremy says.

"What?"

"We're selling the restaurant," Jeremy repeats. "We have received a good offer from SHRED to buy the building. SHRED is Schein Real Estate Development. The company is in the process of buying the buildings surrounding Cafe Louis. SHRED wants to tear down the buildings and build a shopping center."

"Just what the world needs."

Jeremy sifts through piles on his desk until he comes to a manila envelope marked with a purple and red logo. He hands the envelope to me. "We got the offer two weeks ago. My lawyer looked it over and gave it his seal of approval. We just need to sign the papers and it will be a done deal."

"You keep saying 'we,' Jeremy. I had no idea this was happening."

"You haven't been around, Mimi. I didn't think you would care."

"Not care that you are tearing down Dad's restaurant?"

My brother sighs and folds his hands on top of his desk. "Don't get emotional about this. Dad would want us to do what's best for ourselves and our families."

"Right," I say. "And who gets to decide what's best for me? You?"

"You don't seem to be doing a good job of it."

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry," Jeremy says quickly. "I didn't mean that. You're going through a hard time. I'm not trying to make things worse. Listen, Mimi. Selling the restaurant will give us a nice lump sum of cash. You can invest it. I can help."

"Turning a profit at the restaurant would also give us money," I say.

Jeremy exhales. "True. But that would require a lot of time and energy."

"Doesn't she deserve our time and energy? Cafe Louis is part of our family. How can we just give up on her?"

"Mimi, the restaurant is not a person. It's a property."

"Fine," I say. "That property is half mine."

Jeremy frowns. "Ally thinks that selling the restaurant is a good idea."

"Yeah? Well, Ally also thinks it's a good idea for Mom to start dating."

"What?" Jeremy's eyebrows stretch toward his hairline.

"Yep."

Jeremy grimaces. The prospect of Mom dating obviously distresses him. He is silent for a few moments. Then, he shrugs. "Ally usually knows what's best."

"Gag me with a spatula," I say.

Jeremy glares at me, but doesn't respond. Jeremy isn't a fighter. Never has been. Jeremy is the Brandon to my Brenda. "I'm sorry you feel that way" was his answer to any adolescent argument I tried to provoke. Antagonizing Jeremy isn't going to help me now, so I stifle myself.

"Don't you want to relax?" Jeremy says. "Take a vacation? Or at least regroup? You should spend time with Mom."

"I am spending time with Mom. I'm living with her. Remember?"

"I'm serious, Mimi. Mom isn't going to be around for long."

"What do you mean? Is Mom sick?"

"She has high blood pressure," Jeremy says.

"Since when?"

"Mom's getting older. All kinds of things are going to go wrong with her."

I squint at my brother. What's this all about?

Squirming under my squint, Jeremy runs his hands through his hair and changes the subject to our other parent. "Do you want to save Cafe Louis because you think that's what Dad would want? Because I don't think that's true."

"I'm not doing this for Dad," I say. "I'm doing this for myself. I don't want to take a vacation. I need to find a new life, because my old life just got turned upside down. Cafe Louis is an oasis of stability."

"Not financial stability," Jeremy says.

"I know Cafe Louis, and I know restaurants. Why shouldn't I try to rescue her?"

Jeremy starts to chew on his bottom lip. That's Jeremy's tell. When he's questioning himself, he bites his bottom lip. When he's really unsure of himself, he bites both lips.

"What about the people who work at Cafe Louis?" I continue. "A lot of them have worked for our family for years. Don't we owe them one last try?"

Jeremy keeps chewing his lip, so I keep talking.

"Labor and food costs can be brought down considerably," I add quickly. "I can easily rework the menu to increase check averages."

"You're going to do all of this by yourself?" Jeremy says.

"Madeline will help me," I say. Madeline knows nothing about managing a restaurant. But it sounds better than saying that I will do this work by myself.

"Madeline?" Jeremy says, "The one with all the boyfriends? Isn't she crazy?"

"Not in a bad way."

Jeremy switches his bottom lip for his top lip. I talk faster. "If we do make Cafe Louis a success, SHRED can build the shopping center around the restaurant. A shopping center would be good, even great. It would increase foot traffic. More customers for us."

Jeremy bites both his lips. I win.

"The Scheins aren't going to be happy about this."

"Tough nougies," I say. "Cafe Louis is more important than a shopping center."

Jeremy smiles. "We'd have to give it a time limit. Like, three months. If we don't turn a profit by the end of the summer, we sell to the Scheins."

"Summer is the worst season for the restaurant business," I say.

Jeremy raises his eyebrows. "Not up to the challenge?"

"You bet your babka I am. Three months it is." I offer Jeremy my hand. "Deal?"

Jeremy shakes my hand. "Deal."

Zucchini I'm in Philadelphia, so I might as well get my boxes from Nick's.

Standing on the steps of Nick's row house, I ring the bell and pray that no one answers. Nick should be at the restaurant, which makes this a good time for me to get in, get my stuff, and get gone.

Using my key, I unlock the door and walk into what would've been my home. "h.e.l.lo?" I call, but the house is empty.

Thankfully, not much of my stuff is here. It's in storage. We were going to rearrange the closets, then bring over the rest of my clothes. What is here fits into my car. Within fifteen minutes, Sally is packed. Grabbing my mustard collection, I walk out of the house. And right into Nick.

We look at each other, then stare at the ground. "I came to get my stuff," I say.

Nick puts his hands in the pockets of his chef pants. "How are you?"

"Perfect."

"Where are you staying?" Nick asks.

"The Four Seasons."

I sneak a look at Nick's face and see that he is grinning. "I miss having you around," he says. "I miss talking to you about the restaurant. You gave me good advice."

"Oh?" I say. "So now my job is a good thing? You want me for my brains and not my body?"

"You can still come to work at Il Ristorante," Nick says. "With all the publicity hitting, I haven't been around much. Like, now. I had to come home to shower before I go to a cooking cla.s.s. Since you are in between jobs, I could pay you..."

"First of all, I have my own restaurant to worry about," I say.

"Oh, your dad's place?"

"Secondly, you better be careful that promoting the restaurant doesn't get in the way of running the restaurant. Your a.s.s belongs in the kitchen."

"I won't," Nick says. He smiles. "See? You give me good advice."

"Yeah? Well here's another piece of advice," I say. "Don't dip your zucchini in the house dressing. Ever heard of s.e.xual hara.s.sment?"

"Everyone in restaurants fools around with each other. You know that."

"Ironically, I told Claire, my replacement at DI, that she should know everything that goes on in the restaurants she represents. Like that chef in France. He's s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around on his wife. I know that. But I didn't ever suspect that you were cheating on me. It didn't even occur to me."

"I didn't want it to happen the way it did," Nick says.

"Have you ever read Proverbs, five?"

Nick looks down at his kitchen clogs. "I was going to tell you, in a calm, rational way, that the relationship wasn't working for me. I hoped that you would understand, and agree to work at Il Ristorante."

"That would've worked out well for you. Nice and neat."

"I would like us to be friends," Nick says.

"Maybe we should've been friends before we were lovers. My mom has this theory about taking relationships slowly. But anyway, no. I don't think we can be friends."

"Let me know if you change your mind," Nick says.

"I am changing my mind," I tell him. "I'm changing a lot of things."

Allison's Kitchen When I tell Mom and Allison that I have Big News, they immediately arrange for a family dinner. As I drive to Allison's house, I think of how pleased Mom will be with my plan to restore Cafe Louis to her former glory. Surely Mom wants Dad's legacy maintained. I'm less sure about Allison's reaction. She has no sentimental attachment to Cafe Louis.

No one answers my knock, so I let myself in. I adore this house. If-nay, when-I have a big house, I want it to be like this one. The walls of the foyer are painted pomegranate red. The ceiling is eggsh.e.l.l white, meeting the walls in cream-colored crown molding. The floor is patterned in black and ivory diamonds, and an ornate chandelier descends from the ceiling.

"h.e.l.lo?" I call, making my way into Allison's kitchen. The kitchen floor is a medley of berry-toned tiles. Above the granite-topped island hangs a canopy of pots and pans. The stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator stands in front of a Viking stove and six-burner range. Light wood cabinets are fronted by gla.s.s, bringing light into the kitchen and revealing Allison's neatly arranged plates, bowls, gla.s.ses, and mugs. French doors lead to the backyard, where I see a giant play center for the kids.

"Aunt Mimi!" Gideon and Ezra jump around my knees and I lean down to receive their apple-juiced kisses. They are still young enough to be unselfconsciously affectionate.

My niece, Sarah, is different. A very mature eight-year-old, she is the young lady her mother raises her to be. Sarah kisses my cheek, then puts her hand in mine. Sarah has her mother's blond hair, but there is something of my father in her face. Something wise. "Mom said that a boy made you very sad. But I'm glad you're home."

"Thank you, sweetie." I adore this child. I should spend more time with her.

With a mouthful of lasagna, Jeremy says, "Mimi doesn't want to sell Cafe Louis. She wants to run it for three months to see if she can make it profitable. If not, we sell to SHRED."

I'm wondering where the "we" went-as in "we agreed not to sell the restaurant"-when Mom says, "I think that's a big mistake."

I crunch my brow in Mom's direction. She says, "I thought your big news was that you found a job."

"I did find a job," I say. "Not a new job. An old job."

Mom says, "If you want to run your own restaurant, you should sell Cafe Louis and use the money to buy your own place."

"We have a restaurant up and running. She just needs a few changes to be profitable. Why would I start from scratch?"