Market Street by Anita Hughes Read Free Book Online

bunches of lilies in crystal vases, birds-of-paradise in long glass tubes, yellow roses, purple daisies, orchids on end tables, side tables, and on the fireplace mantel.
    “Thank you, darling. I love the white but I felt a bit like I was living in a Swiss clinic. The flowers add drama. Maria complains about having to refresh the water but what else does she have to do? She’s getting lazy.”
    Cassie smiled. Maria had been with her mother for thirty years and Cassie had never seen her without a dust mop in her hand.
    “We’ll have lunch in a minute, but I have something exciting to discuss.” Diana leaned forward on the love seat. “Next birthday I’ll be sixty, God willing. It’s time you came to work at Fenton’s.”
    Cassie gazed at her mother. It was hard to believe Diana would be sixty. Her skin was smooth as alabaster, and she had the hands of a debutante. Diana’s eyes were pale blue like Cassie’s, and she wore her auburn hair in a pageboy cut to her chin.
    “I have a full life, Mother. Working at the Edible Schoolyard and being a professor’s wife keeps me busy.”
    “I adore Alice, she is a dear, dear friend”—Diana waved her cigarette holder in the air—“but you’re mucking around in dirt with schoolchildren. It was fine when you were in your twenties but you’re thirty-two. It’s time to grow up. Fenton’s needs you.”
    *   *   *
    Cassie leaned back on the white silk cushion and remembered the last time her mother demanded she work at Fenton’s. It was a year after she graduated from Berkeley. Cassie had managed to turn her extra summer into a full year and was still in the first flush of love with Aidan. She kept her studio apartment in North Berkeley because Isabel still coveted Aidan’s undivided attention, but they managed to spend long nights together in his king-sized bed.
    “You’ve been playing for a full year now.” Diana sat at the desk in her office at Fenton’s. “It’s time you came to work.”
    “I’m not sure I want to work at Fenton’s,” Cassie had replied, hearing Aidan’s voice in her head. “Alice is starting an exciting project and I want to be part of it.”
    “Volunteering is fine.” Diana stood up and walked to the window overlooking Union Square. It was spring and the trees were covered in pink buds. Shoppers had shed their winter coats and wore bright colors: lime green dresses, orange pants, canvas loafers instead of knee-high boots. “But Fenton’s is your store.”
    “I love Fenton’s, but I’m not really made for it.” Cassie averted her eyes from her mother. “I don’t have your fashion sense.”
    “Nonsense.” Her mother turned and looked sharply at Cassie. “You’re young, your look will mature. The trick is to surround yourself with people who excel at what they do.”
    *   *   *
    After that first conversation with her mother, Cassie had driven over the Bay Bridge and gone straight to Aidan’s house. Aidan was in the kitchen, preparing an egg white omelet.
    “Sweetheart”—he kissed her on the mouth—“I picked up a 1996 Rutherford sauvignon blanc. Wait till you taste it.”
    Cassie sat on the stool and watched Aidan crack eggs. Her lower lip trembled. She loved spending Saturdays at the Berkeley Co-op with Aidan, combing the aisles for exotic vegetables. She loved growing spinach and zucchini and giving them to Aidan to use in their dinner.
    “My mother wants me to move back to the city and work at Fenton’s,” she blurted out.
    Aidan put down the spatula and wiped his hands on his apron. He led Cassie onto the deck and wrapped his arms around her.
    “Tell her you can’t do that,” he said.
    “I tried.”
    “Tell her you’re going to be very busy because we’re getting married.”
    Cassie pulled away and looked at Aidan. He was smiling his white, brilliant smile.
    “We are?”
    “We are.” His black eyes flashed. “In the Redwood Grove on campus, followed by an intimate dinner at Chez Panisse.”