I turn my phone on, and immediately I’m inundated with so many texts, phone calls, and voice messages. Sometimes, I feel like I’m a slave to the damn phone. But I also know I need it if I ever want tradespeople to be able to get in touch with me.
It’s no use looking at any of the messages, so I delete them before I read them.
The cat stirs, and I remember I brought him home last night. He rode in the bed of the truck, like harnessed dogs do. But now he’s curled up on the bottom of my bed, purring as he sleeps. Wait, have I inherited a damn cat?
I hear someone outside, and I slink out of bed to go see what’s happening. Opening the door, I pop my head out to find Tabitha dressed and ready to go. “Shit,” she says when she sees me. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” I smile. “Are you leaving?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m going to the growers’ market to get some fresh seafood. I want to see what they have to offer, because I’m cooking tonight.”
“It’s like four-thirty in the morning. It’s not even light yet.”
“I’m a chef, and we get up at weird times. Anyway, I have to go.”
“Can I come with you? It’ll take me like five minutes to get changed.”
She looks at the time on her phone, and I can tell she’s itching to get there. “You have four minutes,” she says playfully.
Hell yeah, I can be ready in four minutes. I run inside, go to the bathroom, splash some water on my face and get changed. I come out, re-tying my hair so it’s out of my face. “Done.”
Tabitha does a double-take. “You’re a woman after my own heart. None of my girlfriends could ever be ready in four minutes.”
“If you check your phone, you’ll see it’s only three,” I proudly say as I quietly close the door behind me.
She checks, and nods with a huge smirk. “You go, girl.” We walk to her car, and I get in the passenger side. “Why are you awake so early?”
“Being in this business, sometimes I’ll work through the night because time is money. The longer I keep a house, the more it’ll cost me. It’s a bit different for Old Roger’s house though. I’m using my own money, and don’t have any carrying costs. But I still need to get it done.”
She starts the car, and reverses out of the spot, then continues down the long driveway. “Do you enjoy it, flipping houses?”
“Love it. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”
“It’s predominantly a male-orientated business, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. But more women are doing it now. I like getting my hands dirty.” I hold up my hands to her. “See, short nails. Calloused palms.” I chuckle, and so does Tabitha. “But the same could be said about being a chef. I mean, stereotypically, the woman does the cooking at home, but in a commercial kitchen, it’s primarily male chefs, right?”
“Yeah. There are a lot of female chefs coming up though, in comparison to what you do.”
“Look at us, both being rebels and all.”
There’s a long pause in the car, and I yawn as the tired hits me. “Aunt May really likes you.”
“Does she? I think she’s an amazing lady.”
“She is. I wish she was my mom. But she isn’t.”
I can tell by the sadness in her voice that Tabitha’s relationship with her mother isn’t exactly strong. “She’s very much a no-nonsense type of woman, and I like that about her. Nothing worse than people telling you what you want to hear.”
“Tell me about it. Aunt May says you and your brother flip houses together? How does that work? Doesn’t it get messy with you being related?”
“He accepts that I’m the boss,” I say way too quickly. She laughs. “I trust him with my life, and I know he’s good at what he does. There have been times we butt heads, but considering I’m the one who bankrolls all the projects, Charlie just goes with the flow. Even though I own the company, we’re both in it together. He’s really good at project management too, and between the two of us, we’ve got a lot of connections in the industry.”
“But you haven’t restored a house here in Hope River before, have you?”
“No! This is way out of my comfort zone. I live about five hours away, so the usual tradespeople and contractors I work with aren’t anywhere near here. But it’s all working out, so I’m happy about that.”
“I was so impressed with everyone helping to clear the yard. But that’s what Hope River is. It’s a community that looks after each other.”
“Yeah, I’m noticing. Tell me about you. Are you working anywhere?”
“I move around a bit. I’m not settled anywhere, except here. But Hope River doesn’t need a restaurant, so unless I find work in the neighboring counties, I’ll have to leave and come back whenever I need Aunt May.” She breaks my heart. It’s like May is her touchstone, the one person she can rely on. How sad that her parents aren’t there for her. Reminds me, I need to call Mom and Dad.
“What about your father?”
She groans. “Yeah, his idea of being a father is ‘let’s give Tabitha money and hopefully she won’t notice that I’m too busy for her and don’t want to make time for her.’” Ouch.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry.” I look out the window at the sun slowly rising in the horizon. “Wow, look at that.”
“Yeah, there’s something about Hope River. It really gets under your skin, and then you never want to leave. Or if you do leave, you can’t wait to come back. I know that’s how I feel. Everyone says the same thing.”
Except me. I’m leaving. “I can see that.” The moment Old Roger’s house is done, I’m out of here. Probably with the addition of a cat.
“But you’re still leaving, right?”
How does she know? Am I that transparent? “My life isn’t here.”
“It can be. It’s not that difficult to move here. It’s not like you don’t own a house.”
“That’s way too big for me.”
“What about a family? Boyfriend? Don’t you want those things?”
I’m forced to examine what River said last night, and I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. “To be honest, I don’t know.”
“You know, I’ve had a shit upbringing. Not in the way most people conjure in their heads. More like abandonment issues. And I never want to turn into my parents, so for me, kids and partners will never be in the cards for me.” Just like May.
“I’m sorry you’ve had that in your life. I can’t say I relate to it, because I don’t. It must be hard.”
She shrugs. “We’re here,” she says. I wish I’d taken more notice of where Tabitha was driving to. This place is amazing.
“Holy shit, I had no idea a place like this existed here.”
“It does if you know where you’re looking. Restaurants from up to an hour away come here to get their produce.”
We get out of the car, and walk down along the boardwalk. On the right side is the ocean. You can smell the rich saltiness from the water, and the breeze has got quite an early morning bite to it too. There are all kinds of fresh produce lining the other side of the boardwalk. “Wow.”
“You can get everything from seafood, to locally grown beef, to freshly killed chickens, to every herb and vegetable known to man.”
“Makes me wish I’d taken up cooking instead of carpentry.”
Tabitha laughs. “I love this. I’m in my element when I come down here.” We make our way through the plethora of people, and she heads directly to a seafood merchant. “These guys have the nicest softshell crabs. They’re always plump and taste the best.”
“I’m salivating and don’t even know what I’d do with them. But my God, they look so delicious.”
She turns to me and smiles. “So it’s settled; you and your brother are coming for dinner tonight.”
“What? We are?”
“Of course. Any allergies I should know about?”
“Shouldn’t you ask May first? She may only want it to be on
ly the two of you.”
“Aunt May will be fine. Allergies?” she asks again.
“No, we’ll both eat virtually anything.”
“Great.” She picks up a fish, and looks at it. “See this?” She points to the eyes. I nod. “Nice clear eyes, beautiful skin that’s not slimy. No fishy smell. That means this was caught within the last few hours.”
“Came in about an hour ago,” the fish monger replies.
“We’ll take this.” She hands him the big, red fish. He wraps it for her, and she hands over the money. “Here, you can be my apprentice.” She chuckles.
“Does that mean you’ll show me how to cook?”
“No way. As a first-year apprentice, it means you carry all the food, and peel all the onions.”
“Great,” I say sarcastically. “All the jobs I’m sure you love.”
“I could make you scale and bone the fish. Take out the guts. You know, all the fun things.”
My stomach roils with disagreement. “Funny that, suddenly I’m super happy to carry all the bags, and peel all the onions.”
She beams over her shoulder at me. “I thought so.”
I like Tabitha, I think we could be firm friends. Maybe once I leave Hope River, she’ll be someone I can keep in contact with. Like Elle, I’m hoping we can remain friends too.
“I’m about to head over to May’s, what time do you think you’ll be back?”
“I’m wrapping up here at the house, and I should be back in about half an hour. But, I want to take a shower first, because I stink,” Charlie says.
“You always stink,” I tease.
“Whatever. I’m going.” He hangs up, and I can’t help but smile. I love poking fun at Charlie. He’s such easy prey. He always bites back, which makes him even more fun to torment.
I grab the bottle of wine I bought at the liquor store earlier, and walk over to May’s. “Hello?” I knock on her door.
“For God’s sake, girly. I’m not getting any younger here. Why do you even bother knocking?” I hear May calling from inside.
May is such a wonderful lady. I open the door, and follow the aroma. “It smells so good in here,” I say.
“Hey there, neighbor,” Tabitha says. “Where’s your brother?”
“He’ll be here. He said he’s sorry, but he’ll be about half an hour late. Can I help?” I walk over to the range, and lean against the counter, watching. May’s sitting at the bar stool, chopping what looks like a salad.
“Yes, you can take over here. I don’t want to do this anymore,” May says as she stands, and walks out of the kitchen.
“Okay then. What am I doing?” I wash my hands before I take May’s place.
“It’s a pear, walnut, feta and arugula salad. I need you to slice the pear. Thinly, please,” Tabitha says.
“Yes, chef!” I smirk, and Tabitha does too, but adds in an eye roll. “So, have you thought of opening your own restaurant?”
“I had one, but it got too big, and it wasn’t for me.”
“Too hard?”
“Nah. Well, yeah. But it became a business, more than just the food. And I was under pressure, which I didn’t enjoy.”
“But isn’t being in a kitchen full of pressure anyway?”
“Yeah, it is. But when it turns into a chore, and the love is gone, I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to cook because I love cooking, not because I’m chasing a Michelin star, or I want certain celebrities to endorse me.” I get that. If I stopped enjoying flipping houses, my heart wouldn’t be in it and I’d stop.
“What about a chef for the celebrities?”
“It’s not something on my bucket list.” She shrugs. “I’m a qualified chef who doesn’t want anything too big. Maybe one day, I’ll open a café, like Elle’s. Obviously, not here in Hope River, because that wouldn’t be fair to Elle.”
“Why don’t you look into catering with Elle? You both worked well together and made that amazing spread on such short notice for me.”
“I didn’t have to go to culinary school to learn how to make a sandwich. I did enjoy it, but it’s not something I can see myself doing.”
“You know what? You’re a pain in the ass,” I say.
“I tell her that all the time!” May calls from the dining room.
“Yes, she does,” Tabitha agrees. “Maybe something small, and only for dinner. That way I’m not competing with Elle. I have no idea. But truth be told, I’m not settled, and I don’t know when I’ll be ready to make a decision about something like this.”
“I told her she can move in here permanently,” May calls.
She may be in the other room, but her ears work perfectly fine. “Maybe,” Tabitha shrugs.
Reaching for another pear, I notice I’m done. “I’m finished. What else would you like me to do?”
“Grab a saucepan from over there. See that small one?” She pointedly looks at the pans on the counter. I grab hold of one of them. “Yep, that one. Here, put it on the heat, and bring it up to medium high. We want it very hot.”
“Do we need oil or anything?” I ask.
“Nope, we’re toasting the walnuts. It’ll bring out the nutty flavor and release some of their natural oils. But it’s got to be really hot, and don’t take your eye off them, I’ve thrown away many a blackened walnut because I’ve forgotten about them.”
I wait a moment or two, and look at Tabitha for guidance. “Should I scatter the walnuts yet?”
“I think so. Put them in, and keep shaking the pan.”
There’s a bowl of nuts beside me, and I toss them in. They immediately start making a sizzling noise, and it fascinates me how it can be so audible without any oils. I shake the pan, making sure they don’t turn black. I see them changing color right before my eyes. “Look at that.” I point to them.
“Keep shaking the pan, we don’t want them to burn.”
I shake it, then place it back on the flame, then shake them again. “Hey, look at me go. A regular chef.”
“Let’s go with a novice cook,” Tabitha says.
“Novice is right,” May yells out.
“Hey. No picking on the guest,” I say as I defend myself. But I know they’re joking.
“You’re burning them,” Tabitha says.
“Shit a brick,” I say as I take them off the heat.
“That would hurt, so no thank you, I don’t want to shit a brick,” May says.
Tabitha and I laugh. “They look done. Let them cool a bit, then you can scatter them over the salad. There’s feta cheese in the fridge, break that up, and scatter that too please.”
“Knock-knock,” I hear Charlie calling from the front door.
“What is it with you two? Are you trying to make an old lady exercise? Is that it?” May says to me as she walks past me to the front door. “Get in here. We’re waiting for you, and we’re hungry.” Charlie offers May a cellophane-wrapped bunch of brightly colored flowers. “You’re forgiven for being late.”
“Suck-up,” I say to Charlie.
He spies the bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. “Says the chick who brought wine.”
“Maybe it was already here,” I say.
“Dear Lord, give me strength not to yell at these two,” May says as she reaches to get a vase.
“Sorry, May,” Charlie replies as he lowers his head, but has a mischievous grin.
Tabitha opens the oven, a puff of heat escapes, and the aroma intensifies. Charlie and I both turn to look at what’s coming out of the oven. My mouth instantly salivates, and I can’t wait to eat whatever that beautiful, intense garlic aroma is coming from. I feel my mouth pooling with hunger. “Jesus, that smells good,” I say.
“Hell yeah. I’m starving,” Charlie echoes.
“Charlie, could you take that salad out to the dining table, Hope, I’ll get you to grab the citrus couscous from the fridge, and I’ll bring the salmon,” Tabitha issues the orders.
“Was that fish the salmon you bought this morning?” I
ask.
“Sure was.” She places the salmon on a wooden serving board, and slices up some lemons.
May’s already sitting in her spot, waiting with a fork in one hand, and a knife in the other. She’s wearing her napkin like a bib. I burst into laughter when I see her. May looks around, and cheekily smiles. She’s so much fun.
I grab the pinot grigio I bought with me. The wine glasses are already on the table, so I open the bottle and pour into all our glasses. May looks at the conservative amount I’ve poured and stares up at me, “I’m not a cheap drunk, girly.” She gestures with her finger for me to add more. I top her up. “That’s better.”
We all start placing food on our plates, and the chatter around the table is easy.
“Do you like being a plumber?” Tabitha asks Charlie.
“I don’t mind being a plumber, but when we’re restoring houses, it’s demolition that’s so much fun. I’ve been trying to convince this one, though, that the house she bought needs detonation, not restoration.” He points to me.
“I’ll wash your mouth out if I ever hear you say that again,” May says, quite seriously. “That house is part of Hope River. It belongs here just like I do.”
“Sorry,” Charlie says again.
“Actually, maybe you can help me, May. Did Roger ever find love again after his wife passed? Maybe someone in secret?”
“There’s no such thing as secrets in this town. Why do you ask?”
“I found something when River and I were upstairs.” I take a mouthful of salmon, and it literally melts in my mouth. “Oh my God,” I mumble. “This is heavenly.”
“Thank you.” Tabitha beams proudly.
“What did you find?” May asks.
“I found a small tin box, and it had a letter, and a pair of earrings, and shirt in it. It was enclosed, and hidden under a window bench seat. It’s had me thinking maybe it was buried for a reason.”
“What did the letter say?” May asks in a small voice. She’s not looking at us. Instead, her gaze is firmly on the table, and her knife and fork are placed on the plate. Her face has gone pale.
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