She was so deep into the scene that she almost didn’t hear the knocking on the door until it got louder. Reluctant to tear herself away from her story world, she slowly got up, went into the kitchen and smiled when she saw who it was. She opened the door, and Jack walked in holding a big paper bag from Trattel’s Seafood. He handed it to her.
“Your lobster. A pound and a half. I shucked it myself.”
Kate had completely forgotten about the lobster. She hadn’t thought he was serious.
“Wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
He grinned. “I have an ulterior motive. That quiche sounded good.”
She thought for a moment, taking a mental inventory of what she had on hand. Everything but cream. She’d have to run to the store for that.
“What time do you go to work in the morning? Or if you want to come by after work, we could have it for dinner?”
“Dinner sounds good to me. I don’t want to have to rush off to work.”
That sounded better to Kate too. She could run out in the morning and bake it in the afternoon so it would be just made when he came by.
“What time is good for you?” she asked.
“I’m usually home by six and will need to jump in the shower so I don’t stink of fish.”
Kate laughed. He didn’t smell like fish at all, though after working around it all day, she didn’t blame him for wanting a shower.
“Why don’t you just come by whenever you’re ready then. Anytime is fine.”
“All right. I’m off to hit the shower now. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks again for the lobster.” Kate watched him go and then went to find her mother’s recipe. She’d emailed it to her after Kate had raved about the quiche.
Kate stopped working the next afternoon around four and set about making the lobster quiche. First she made the pie crust and then the custard filling. It really was a simple recipe. She just sauteed a little onion in butter, then added a splash of sherry and the chopped lobster. She let it cool then dumped it all into the pie shell and poured in the mixture of eggs and heavy cream. A sprinkling of grated swiss cheese over the top and it was ready to go into the oven.
A half hour later, her nose told her the quiche was done. When she checked, it was perfectly golden brown, and she set it on the counter to cool. When they were ready to eat, she would pop it back into the oven to warm up. She showered and made a simple tossed salad to go with the quiche.
She still had about an hour before Jack was due to arrive, so she opened her manuscript up again and dove back into the story. It was going much faster now as she knew where the story was going, and it was almost like a race to get it all down. The hour flew by and before she knew it, there was a knock on the door. She put her laptop away and went to let him in.
When she opened the door, she got a whiff of something nice. Jack had splashed on some aftershave, and it smelled great. He wore a hunter green button-down shirt and jeans, and his hair was still a little damp. He handed her a bottle chilled chardonnay.
“You didn’t have to bring anything! The lobster was more than enough.”
“My mother always said it was rude to show up empty-handed. I’m happy to open it if you feel like a glass?”
“Sure, that’d be great.” She handed him a wine opener and two glasses. While he was pouring the wine, she put the quiche in the oven to warm up.
Then she opened a can of roasted salted nuts and poured them into a dish. Jack handed her a glass of wine, and they sat at the island.
“The quiche won’t take long to heat up,” she said as she reached for a cashew.
“I’m in no hurry. How’d the writing go today?”
“Great actually. Did you know that anti-freeze used to have a sweet taste? They’ve changed it now so that it’s bitter, but my killer had access to an old jug that was stored in a garage. She added a little to the victim’s orange juice every morning until he got sick and died of natural causes. No one suspected a thing.”
“Should I be worried about that quiche?” Jack laughed. “Is that really true, about anti-freeze?”
“It is. There was a woman they discovered was a black widow—she killed two husbands with anti-freeze and then tried to frame her daughter for it.”
“You must have some interesting search histories on your browser.”
Kate laughed. “I know. It’s funny, I went to a writer’s conference with a friend a few years ago, and on the way to the airport we were brainstorming the best way to kill someone for her character. We got some looks from the other people in the shuttle van—until we told them we were writers.”
“You should write a mystery about a mystery writer who is also a murderer, they’d have the perfect cover…they could just say they were researching for a book.”
“Oh, that’s true. That could be fun, actually.” Jack seemed really interested in talking about her writing and shared that he was a bit of a mystery lover too.
“Who do you like to read?” she asked.
“There’s so many. Dennis Lehane is a favorite. My college roommate went to BC High with him, said he always got an A in English.”
“That makes sense. I love his books too. I actually lived in Charlestown, not far from where they filmed Mystic River.”
“Did you like living there?”
“I did. It’s so close to downtown Boston. I could walk to work or take the water shuttle across the harbor. I lived in the Navy Yard.”
“By Old Ironsides?” Jack mentioned the famous landmark. The USS Constitution was the world’s oldest commissioned Navy vessel, built in the late 1700s and lovingly maintained. It usually sat in dry dock, but occasionally was sailed around Boston harbor.
“Yes, right down the street. I walked by it most days on my way to the water shuttle.”
“That’s very cool, taking a boat to work. Do you miss it?”
Kate took a sip of wine and considered the question. “Yes and no. I loved living and working in Boston, but I love it here too, and it’s where my family is. I’d love to stay here, if I could. But there’s not a lot of demand for writers on Nantucket.”
“There’s a few famous writers that live here. Maybe you’ll be one of them.” Jack’s smile almost made her believe it was possible, someday.
“I don’t need to be famous, just make enough to support myself. I’ve picked up some freelance work though, from the magazine I used to work for, so that’s helping.” Amanda had emailed another assignment the day before, a round-up article on Nantucket’s ‘top ten’ restaurants. That would be a fun one to research. She told Jack about it as she took the quiche out of the oven and cut a big slice for each of them. She brought the plates and the bowl of salad to the island and they dug in.
“If you need any help researching those restaurants, you know, for quality control, I’d be happy to volunteer.”
Kate laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She took a bite of the quiche and sighed. It had turned out as good as her mothers. Creamy, silky custard and big chunks of lobster. Fresh lobster had a sweetness that wasn’t found in canned or frozen.
“This is amazing. Best lobster I’ve ever had, where did you get it?” He grinned as he took another big bite. “Seriously though, the quiche is awesome. Thank you.”
When he finished, Kate offered him a second piece which he eagerly accepted. They chatted easily for another hour or so, over a little more wine. Kate learned that they shared quite a few common interests besides their love of mysteries. Jack also appreciate art and had bought one of Kristen’s paintings at an art show a few years ago.
“It’s a small painting, but I saw it and had to have it. It’s classic Nantucket, stormy seas crashing into a lighthouse.”
“Kristen loves painting the ocean. Where did you put it?” Kate was curious to see the inside of his house.
“In my home office. It has a nice ocean view, so seemed like an appropriate spot.”
“Kristen has an art show this weeke
nd, at the new gallery downtown. And I think she said it’s all ocean themed. You should go.”
“Maybe I will.” He grinned. “Want to go with me? We can check out one of the restaurants on your list before or after.”
Kate didn’t have any plans set in stone yet. She knew her mother would likely be going with either Rhett or Sue, and Abby had mentioned that Jeff was taking her out to dinner and they might stop by after.
“Sure, why not?”
Jack looked a little more serious as he asked, “Are you still dating Philippe? I don’t want to step on any toes. He is a friend.”
“We went out once. He’s a great guy. We just want different things. I recently ended an engagement. He cheated.” She told him about walking in on Dylan and Ellie.
He looked furious on her behalf and sympathetic. “Man, that’s rough. Cissie never cheated, that I was aware of, but we just stayed together too long. We wanted different things, and it was easier to stay together than to break up. But she started pushing for a huge wedding, and we weren’t even engaged. I think she just wanted to get married, not necessarily married to me, if that makes sense.”
Kate nodded. It did make sense. Nantucket was a small island and the pool of available men even smaller. Jack, with his family business and overall good looks, was considered a catch. He’d be a catch anywhere though, and he deserved someone who was madly in love with him.
They chatted a little while longer, but when Kate suddenly yawned, Jack jumped up and took it as his cue to leave.
“Thanks so much for dinner. I’ll call you on Saturday, and we can make a plan.”
“That sounds good. Oh, take some of this with you. I can’t eat all this quiche myself.”
“If you insist.” Kate packed up most of the leftover quiche, saving one big piece for herself and handed it to Jack.
“See you on Saturday.”
Chapter 16
Kristen spent most of Wednesday afternoon carefully wrapping the paintings that Andrew had chosen for the showing on Saturday. Andrew had called earlier and said he’d be by around four to collect them. She was a little surprised and disappointed that she hadn’t heard from him since the first time he’d stopped by and they’d gone for burgers.
She’d enjoyed his company and thought that she’d sensed interest. But she’d also told Andrew about her breakup, and he’d told her he’d be happy to ‘hang out’ whenever she was up for it. But she hadn’t reached out either. It wasn’t her way to call up a man she barely knew and invite him out, even as a friend.
She hadn’t thought much of it until this past week, as she had been busy and was still trying to get over Sean. He didn’t make it easy though. She had several missed messages from him and finally a voice message asking her to please call, that it was important.
Once all her paintings were safely wrapped and waiting in the living room for Andrew to arrive, Kristen called Sean. She had a half-hour before Andrew was due to arrive, and she didn’t imagine the call would take long. She just wanted to make sure she was done and ready before she let herself get distracted. Sean answered on the first ring.
“Kristen?”
“Hi Sean. You called? It sounded important.”
“Yeah, I…I appreciate the call back. I miss you. It’s been a few weeks now, I’m just hoping that maybe you’ve missed me too. We can start over. It will be different this time, better.” She liked what he was saying, but she knew him by now.
“Does this mean you’ve filed for divorce? That’s great news.”
There was a long, heavy silence. “Well, no. Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? It’s a simple yes or no question, Sean. Are you getting a divorce?”
“It’s complicated. We’re separated, almost as good as divorced.”
“It’s a world of difference, Sean. I don’t do complicated anymore. Complicated is messy. I like simple. Divorced is simple. Single is too. Simple is good.”
“If you could just be patient and trust me.”
“I’m all out of patience Sean. And I have to go. Please don’t call me again.”
“But, Kristen….”
“Bye, Sean.” Kristen ended the call and walked into her kitchen. A few weeks ago the conversation would have reduced her to a pile of tears, now she felt sad, but there were no more tears for Sean. She made herself a cup of hot cinnamon tea and breathed in its heady, sweet spice.
As she took her last sip, she heard footsteps outside the door and then a polite knock. Andrew had arrived.
She opened the door and felt her spirits lift when she saw him. His smile was easy and big, reaching his eyes as he saw her.
“It’s almost the big day,” he said as he stepped inside. “Are you excited?”
“Yes. A little nervous too,” she admitted.
“Nothing to be nervous about. I’ll be there, and I expect we’ll be packing them in. Daffodil weekend gets crazy.”
“It does. Are you going to the parade?” There was a vintage car parade in the afternoon, and people planted their blankets along the side of the road to tailgate and watch the cars and people go by.
“Probably not. I’ll be in the gallery all afternoon and evening.”
“Of course.”
“What about you, will you go?”
Kristen shook her head. “Probably not. That’s not really my kind of thing. Too crowded.”
“How’ve you been? I thought about calling you a few times, but I didn’t want to be a bother. I was hoping you might reach out to me if you wanted to hang out.”
“I’m good. I’ve just been working a lot. And it wouldn’t be a bother. If you called.”
He grinned. “Good to know.” They had an awkward moment of silence until Andrew nodded at the lined up paintings.
“Are these all going?”
“Yes, they’re all there and ready for you.” She helped him carry the paintings out to the gallery van.
Once they were all safely settled, Andrew turned to leave.
“Do you have plans for Friday night?” he asked.
Of course, it was the one night she did have plans. “I do, I’m going to dinner with my sister and mother. We’re going to the opening of the new restaurant near my mother’s house.”
“Oh, that’s opening this weekend? You’ll have to let me know how it is. Maybe we’ll grab a drink after the show on Saturday. If you’re not too tired. I know it can be draining to be ‘on’. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
She laughed. “I’m sure that never happens to you. I’d love to have a drink after.”
* * *
Lisa was counting the days until Gina’s ‘vacation’ was over. Every time she turned around it seemed like she was running into the woman. As Rhett had predicted, Gina had yet to make it down for breakfast, but she’d chased Lisa down every day for something, extra towels, bottled water, suggestions on who to call for a taxi or where to go for lunch or dinner. Fortunately, she did have friends staying downtown and had met up with them several times so she wasn’t looking to spend all her time with Rhett. Still, she liked to remind Lisa that they were married for over ten years.
Lisa was getting the mail on Thursday when a sleek silver vintage Jaguar roadster pulled up to the house. Seconds later, Gina came flying out the front door, screaming and waving.
“It’s Delilah my daughter!”
A tall, elegant young woman with her mother’s long wavy dark hair got out of the car and came over to them. Lisa knew that she was Rhett’s step-daughter, the one he’d said was going be bringing his car to the island for Daffodil weekend.
Gina introduced them.
“Michelle, this is Lisa. She owns the house where Rhett and I have been staying.” She said it almost as if they were there together, which irritated Lisa.
“Nice to meet you, Michelle.”
“You too.” She turned to her mother. “What time are we going out to dinner? I need to shower and change first.”
“Not till around seven or so
. We’re going to go to Rhett’s restaurant. Tonight is their opening night, so he has to be there, but he’ll be able to join us once the restaurant slows down a bit.”
Michelle yawned. “Cool. Maybe I’ll have time to lie down for a bit then.”
“Go ahead and rest up honey. We’re in the room at the end of the hall, upstairs. I left the door ajar.”
Michelle grabbed her overnight bag and went inside. Gina seemed to have more to say, so Lisa waited patiently and glanced at her mail. All bills, as usual.
“We’re so excited to go and support Rhett’s new restaurant. When are you going?”
“Tomorrow night.”
Gina nodded. “That makes sense. Tonight is the soft opening when they work out the bugs. It will mostly be family and friends.”
“Rhett said he wanted things to be as close to perfect for us. We don’t really care when we go, it’s all good.”
“Right. Well, I’m off to visit with Michelle. Enjoy your day.”
As Gina walked off, Lisa shook her head in amusement. Gina seemed determined to try to convince Lisa that she was Rhett’s priority. And it didn’t matter a bit which night they went to celebrate Rhett’s opening. She understood that he wanted to have them wait a day, so they could work the kinks out.
* * *
The following morning, she was surprised to see Gina walk in for breakfast for the first time, along with Michelle. Rhett had just sat down with his first cup of coffee and smiled when he saw them.
“Michelle got you up, I see,” he chuckled.
“Not by choice. She’s not exactly quiet in the morning.” Gina poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them, sitting next to Rhett.
“You’re just a grump in the morning,” Michelle said with a smile as she put a bagel in the toaster and helped herself to a glass of orange juice.
The Nantucket Inn Page 15