The Complete Eagle Cove

Chapter 2 -8

Greg had been transfixed by the vision entering his restaurant. He’d been trying to find something to say, when he overheard her comment. He turned, selected a small dark-red dahlia from the vase that Vincent had dropped off to be a surprise at their family table—good man, he’d bought a nice arrangement that wouldn’t miss the one bloom Greg had just liberated—and he nipped off most of the long stem with the chef’s knife he kept sheathed on his hip.

“If I may?” He approached Jessica. While she’d stared at him in astonishment, he’d slid the palm-sized flower into her hair where she’d gathered it in a sidetail to flutter on one shoulder.

“There.” It brightened her appearance, making her look even more exotic and other-worldly than she already did.

“Uh thanks. So, that makes me completely certifiable?” Her smile made him feel far taller than his eye-to-eye height.

“Absolutely. Certifiably lovely.”

She snorted a laugh at him.

All he could do was grin in response. Even next to Natalya she was the standout in the room.

“Where do you want us, Greg?” Ralph Baxter looked the sea captain role. He stood six-two, fisherman-shouldered, and his own blond hair lightening toward white. He hovered protectively close to the women with him. He turned as Gina Lamont and Jessica’s mother entered as well.

“I don’t have a six-person table,” Greg was looking around for which two tables to pull together, but there were only so many tables in The Puffin and he hated to turn anyone away. Next time he’d push them together in long, communal rows so that there wasn’t a wasted seat.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Gina hooked her arms around her daughter and her niece. “We’ll just squeeze in all friendly-like at a four-person. Monica, you can just sit in Ralph’s lap, you lovebirds.”

Jessica rolled her eyes and Greg tried to smile at her in sympathy. But Gina’s comment only reminded him of the unbearably sad scenes he’d witnessed as the Judge had tried to figure out how to say goodbye to his wife of thirty years—sometimes cradling her for hours in his lap though he clearly had few words to offer. Greg did his best to ignore that memory as well as Jessica’s “And what the hell is your problem?” look by turning to seat the other arrivals.

Soon, The Puffin was crowded to the limit. In addition to the six stools at the counter, he had two couples standing at either end. He found a few more stools from the back and seated them behind the counter, facing their partners across too small a space. Next time he’d have to take reservations, perhaps even do two seatings. That was a first, which was absolutely incredible…and was freaking him out more than just a little. So many people, so many servings to do.

He took one last look about the room as he stood up from asking Vincent’s twins about their outing to Newport. It had included a visit to the aquarium which was always a big hit: Emma was more of a shark gal, Irma preferred the otter tank. Dawn looked only moderately harried from trying to satisfy them both. Vincent was doing a good job of getting the girls to tell him every detail and giving his wife a chance to breathe.

“How about next time, I go with you?” Greg told the twins. “Then when no one is looking, your dad and I can toss you both in to swim in the otter tank.”

Beneath their squeals of fearful delight, Dawn whispered to him, “Thanks for the flowers.”

“They’re from—” he didn’t get to finish.

“I’ve been married to Vincent for ten years and two children; I know who to thank, Greg.”

“He means well,” Greg did his best to reassure her. He’d never heard her as rough as she’d been this afternoon.

“Always,” she said it with a sigh, but he could also hear that she really meant it which made him feel more relaxed about what was going on with his two closest friends.

Greg stepped away before Vincent could know that their flower-ploy was blown.

He headed for the service counter, bewildered by the miracle of everything that was happening. The restaurant was packed solid with people and they’d dressed up to come—as if this was important. There was a buzz of merry anticipation in the air. Fine dining in Eagle Cove. It was enough to make him laugh, or hide in the back of the walk-in freezer and shudder with terror until they all went away.

Peggy began setting up the trays of Halibut-Scallop Ceviche appetizer and he served them out. He’d decided to use the heavy-bottomed wide Old Fashioned glasses he’d picked up cheap at a bar supply store. The thin slivers of red onion, the teasing microgreens, and the spheres of the dwarf cherry tomatoes made a nice contrast to the white halibut and pale scallops through the glass. He’d done all of the knife work on the fish himself, because first impressions were so important.

Becky came along behind him doing her brewmaster spiel and talking about the salmonberry pale ale as she poured just a few ounces into small juice glasses. She also had a soft cider that she served to Vincent’s twins and those who wished it.

Greg didn’t serve Jessica’s table first, but he didn’t serve it last either. A customer who received their meal mid-service didn’t feel the guilt of being served first along with the boredom of waiting while others finished.

He was delivering one of the final trays close by Jessica’s table when he heard her speak up, “When did the Judge get so fancy?”

He almost bobbled the last glass of ceviche into Dawn’s lap. He managed to recover and offer her a smile.

So much for trying to impress Jessica. It felt as if his longest chef’s knife had just been pounded in right between his shoulder blades. He abruptly wished she’d just go back where she came from. Why did she have to come back tonight of all nights? Gods, he sounded like a whiny Jewish Passover ceremony. Why on this night of all nights do we…let our hearts think there’s even a sliver of a chance?

He turned for the kitchen to oversee the First Course and all he could hear was the roaring in his ears.