by Jan Moran
Moments later, the computer screen flashed. Kai turned around, and the two sisters stared at the screen.
Chapter 14
“Who is Grandma COBOL?” Kai asked, leaning toward her laptop screen in the study. “And that looks like Ginger beside her.” She read the caption under the photo. “That hulking machinery is a Univac computer, early 1960s. Way before PCs.”
“In the age of the dinosaurs in computer terms,” Marina said. “Say, that’s about when Ginger and Grandpa were living on the east coast, isn’t it?” The old photo uploaded to a website was a little blurry, but Marina could make out Ginger. “Let’s see,” she said, clicking on the other woman’s name. “Grace Hopper. Commodore Hopper, that is. Recipient of a Presidential Medal of Freedom. I think that’s the highest honor in this country.”
“For what?” Kai asked. The sisters sat huddled in front of her laptop in the study. They’d almost forgotten about the new stickers that Kai was making for Marina.
Marina clicked again. “Wow. Grace was an amazing woman. Ph.D. in mathematics from Yale, Navy Reserve, and this.” She pointed to the screen. “She was known for translating mathematical notations into machine code. She wrote the very first computer compiler.”
“And invented the programming language, COBOL.” Kai pressed a hand to her forehead. “That’s huge. Wonder if Ginger worked with her?”
“Maybe. Evidently, Jack knows more about our grandmother’s professional life than we do. And she confirmed it. But that’s about all she said.” Marina folded her arms. “Have you ever noticed that Ginger is sometimes vague about the trips she takes?”
Kai nodded. “I never really thought of Ginger as more than a math teacher or a diplomat’s wife.”
“Those are both important positions,” Marina said, shooting her sister a look.
“I know, but hanging out with people like Commodore Hopper. And Julia Child, and princes and barons and who knows who else. I used to think she made up all her stories, but maybe our granny had another life we didn’t understand when we were younger.”
“Perhaps she still does,” Marina said, musing over what she saw on the screen. “Jack said she was a code breaker. A cryptologist. That’s easy to believe. We all played her games with codes and ciphers when we were little.”
“Looks like she knows more people in high places,” Kai said. She tapped another link. “There she is again on the grounds of the C.I.A.”
“But Grandpa’s work took them everywhere, and they would have met many high-ranking people.” Marina squinted at the image. “She’s standing in front of a sculpture that looks like alphabet soup. Wow, it’s beautiful, like a high, verdigris scroll unfurled with row upon row of letters. And she’s with the head of the C.I.A.”
Kai read the headline. “Kryptos: An Undecipherable Code?” Sitting back, she said, “Why do I feel like I’m Alice stumbling around in Wonderland?”
Marina laughed. “Or Forrest Gump, where our grandmother seems to have inserted herself into history, and we knew nothing about it.” She rested her chin on her hand. “But this sort of makes sense. Remember those clues she used to leave for us that led to birthday surprises? We had to solve them to find the gifts.”
“That was so much fun,” Kai said. “I remember the Caesar cipher she taught us. She’d hidden our new summer clothes and made us unscramble the code to find them. I think I was about seven years old.” Kai grinned. “Maybe Ginger has left more encrypted messages around here.”
Marina glanced around. “You never know.” Ginger often had reasons of her own for what she did. Enigmatic, that’s what people often called her. Although to Marina and Kai and Brooke, she was simply the fascinating grandmother they loved.
“Enough of this,” Marina said, slightly overwhelmed. She closed the computer browser, wondering if Ginger would share more with them later. “Right now, we’ve got work to do if I’m going to make it to the farmers market early in the morning.”
Back in the kitchen, after checking to make sure the baked goods had cooled, Marina and Kai worked together at the table to package the loaves and baked goodies. Marina wrapped while Kai put on labels.
“How much are you selling these for?” Kai asked.
“While I was at the market, I looked to see how other people had priced similar items.” She flipped open a notebook. “Here you go.”
Kai glanced at it. “Good prices. Are you sure you’re making money?”
“After the city fees, supplies, and ingredients—barely. But my initial costs will be defrayed over time. And I need to buy my ingredients in bulk—once I figure out what’s selling.”
As Kai listened, she drew her eyebrows together. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? I thought you’d go back to work in the fall.”
“I might have to, but that would depend on someone offering me a position. Right now, I’m persona non grata. You’ve seen my meme.”
Kai sighed. “You were trending on social media.”
“I didn’t need to know that,” Marina said, carefully sliding a loaf into a bag and closing it. “There’s a difference between popularity based on your work and notoriety from making yourself look like a fool.”
“I think a lot of women feel sorry for you.”
“That won’t pay the bills.”
“Now you sound like Ginger.”
Marina closed the notebook. “I have two children in college.”
“Maybe you’re putting too much pressure on yourself about that. If you can afford to pay their way, that’s great. But you did it by yourself.”
“That was difficult.” Marina recalled juggling work at a cafe to pay for her tuition. “And yet, that was also one of the happiest times of my life. Before Stan, before the kids, when I was on my own.”
“I hate to point this out, but you’ve come full circle. I love Heather and Ethan, but they can take care of themselves if you can’t. They’re eighteen, so they’re adults, too.”
Marina frowned at Kai. “Barely.” She thought about Ethan and what a difficult time he was having.
“You’re such a mom,” Kai said, shaking her head. “Let them stand on their own.”
“You have no room to criticize me. My children are the most important thing to me.” Marina stopped herself. Kai might never know what it was like to be a mother. And she knew that worried Kai.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” Kai shot back. “Just because you’ve been supermom until now.”
“I’m under a lot of pressure,” Marina snapped back. “You have no idea what it means to be responsible for children and their development into functioning human beings.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she was sorry.
“It’s not for lack of trying, is it? At least I have an engagement ring, and what do you have? A meme. And everyone is laughing at you.” Kai shoved away from the table and stormed outside.
“No, no, no,” Marina mumbled against a rush of regret. “Why did I have to go there?” She’d always been the big sister, the one who was supposed to make everything all right. She knew what Kai’s sensitive points were. “What’s wrong with me?”
The stress of unemployment, public humiliation, and worry about her children was getting to be too much to handle—and making her do things she wished she hadn’t.
“I need to apologize,” Marina mumbled, blinking back tears of anger at herself. Gazing from the wide kitchen window, she could see Kai angling toward the water’s edge. Her sister paused to kick off her shoes. Gripping a flip-flop in each hand, Kai started running, kicking up sand and gaining speed as she went.
Even from childhood, Kai often ran when she was upset, pounding her feet against the sand to relieve her anxiety.
Kai might have a lot on her mind, too, but Marina couldn’t help but feel responsible for her sister’s breakdown.
“Fresh bread,” Marina called out to the throngs of people passing by at the farmers market though no one stopped. She felt a little embarrassed, like a carnival barker.
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When no one paid attention to her, Marina went back to organizing her offerings. She must have shifted her loaves of bread with packages of cookies and tarts a dozen times. Nothing seemed to help.
She hadn’t sold anything in two hours while the two high school girls next to her had almost sold out of Rice Crispy treats. She was happy that they were learning entrepreneurial skills, but if they gave each other one more high-five after a sale, she would scream. And Cookie, the manager of the market, wasn’t impressed. She’d never get a table this way—or be able to pay for it.
What was she doing wrong?
“Fresh bread,” Marina called out in another attempt.
“Oh my gosh, you sound like you’re apologizing for taking up space.” Kai leaned against the edge of the table. “Don’t state the obvious.”
“Well, when did you get home last night?” By midnight, Kai hadn’t returned home.
Kai quirked a corner of her mouth. “Checking up on me?”
“No, I just noticed. That’s all.”
Kai picked up a loaf and a package of cookies. “Want me to show you how it’s done?”
“You’ve never sold anything at a farmers market.” Marina shrugged a shoulder, but if anyone could move the merchandise it was probably Kai. Being younger and blond couldn’t hurt. “Go ahead, charm them all with your gorgeousness.”
“You think that’s what it’s about?” Kai looked a little hurt as she opened a loaf of bread. “Do you have gloves?”
“For what?”
“How did you manage to get this space? I’ll be right back.” Kai crossed the aisle to another vendor, who, after a few words, gave her a pair of thin, food safety gloves, a knife, and a paper plate. Kai slid her hands into the gloves, then set about cutting up the rosemary bread, chocolate chip cookies, and a blueberry tart. Once she’d piled the samples high, she turned toward people streaming by.
“Homemade rosemary bread,” Kai called out in her confident stage voice. “The world’s best chocolate chip cookies. Blueberry tarts to die for.”
“You can’t just give it all away,” Marina said, watching people stop for samples, then walk away. One couple, who looked like they’d just stepped off their yacht, helped themselves to double samples. Marina rolled her eyes. She supposed she could always write off the loss on her tax return. That was thinking positive, right?
“Just wait.” Kai kept passing out samples.
The yacht couple got to the end of the aisle, and then they turned around.
The woman strode back to Marina’s table. As she pointed toward the rosemary bread, her armful of gold bracelets jingled. “That bread is horrible.”
“Excuse me?” Marina wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
The woman peered over the top of her dark sunglasses. “Because it’s going to be responsible for me having to add an extra day at the gym.” She smiled. “But it will be worth it. I’ll take two loaves. Imagine grilled cheese sandwiches with that.”
Her husband walked up behind her. “Don’t forget the chocolate chip cookies. Get a dozen.”
Marina gaped at them, hardly knowing what to say. Were they serious?
“Of course,” Kai said, darting beside Marina. “And have you tried the tarts? I like mine with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. They’re marvelous with champagne cocktails for brunch on the boat, or dessert as you watch the sunset.”
“I vote for a scoop of ice cream on them,” the husband said.
“We could serve them this evening at the dinner party,” the woman added. “We’ll take six of those.”
Marina was dumbfounded and flustered. Real customers, actually buying what she’d made. “Don’t you want to know how much they are?”
Kai and the woman looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing together.
“Just add it up,” Kai whispered.
Marina’s face burned with embarrassment. She was clearly out of place here. Had she been talking to a camera so long that she’d forgotten how to converse with people?
Kai slid one of Marina’s new cards into the couple’s bag. “Be sure to call or email when you want to reserve your purchases because we sell out so fast,” Kai said in a confidential tone. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed.”
“Why, that’s so kind of you,” the woman said. “And do you take special requests?”
“As long as I can make it,” Marina said, hesitant to boast of skills that were still rusty.
“My sister is too modest. She can make anything.”
After the couple left, Kai turned to her. “You almost had it right in the end, but you’ll get the hang of this.”
“You’re a natural,” Marina said. “I feel like such an idiot.” She could stare at a camera and read a news broadcast to a million or more people, but her personal interaction muscles had atrophied.
Kai flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Remember, I’m a professional. This is just another stage.”
With Kai passing out samples, Marina sold out of her stock before the farmers market closed for the day. Watching her sister, Marina thought about how much she loved Kai. She realized she was not alone, that even when they argued, the bond they’d woven since childhood was still strong.
As Marina cleaned the table, she touched Kai’s shoulder. “Did I tell you I’m sorry for my remarks yesterday?”
“You don’t have to,” Kai replied, taking her hand. “We’re both on edge, and I’m sorry, too.”
“Watching you out there, I thought of something,” Marina said, easing into a thought she’d had. “Would you like to come in on this enterprise this summer? I’m better in the kitchen, and you’re a natural with people.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Kai said. “You’ve been on the air for how many years?”
“That’s different. As a news anchor, I had to contain myself and bottle up my emotions and opinions. Here, I have to learn to relate to real people again.”
Kai’s expression softened. “Honestly, I’ve noticed that about you.”
Marina went on. “I know my talents, and I know yours. I might never work in television again, and I’m not even sure I want to. For once in my life, I want to love what I do, even if I don’t make a lot of money. That’s not too much to ask at my age. But what if I were to dream bigger? And team up with the people I admire the most, like you and Ginger? We’re all stronger together.”
“I’d like that, but you know that I’ll be gone soon.” Kai motioned at the crowd around them. “This is your stage, not mine. But if I were to stay anywhere, know that it would be here with you and Ginger and Brooke.”
“Keep my offer in mind, would you?” Marina paused, looking out over the ocean. “Now I understand why Ginger never wanted to get rid of the cottage, even when she and Grandpa were working elsewhere. This place is a slice of heaven. I can do a lot of good here.”
And it wasn’t only about her. Marina had been thinking about what she could do to help other restaurant owners here. What Boz had said about the deep-pocket competitors in the neighboring community had disturbed her. She hated seeing hard-working, dedicated people who’d built their dreams being taken advantage of. Business people would say it was merely the survival of the fittest, but some fights weren’t fair.
Kai returned the platter and knife to the neighboring vendor and thanked them. When she came back, she asked, “What will you do about Heather and Ethan and their college tuition?”
“I’ll do what I can. Maybe you’re right. My kids are old enough to understand that life can get complicated. I plan to have a talk with them about applying for financial aid.” Marina nudged Kai. “So, are you in?”
Kai lowered her eyes. “I can’t. I just made another commitment.”
“You got a part? That’s great.” Though disappointed, Marina was truly happy for Kai. She knew that Kai was feeling antsy being away from her work and the stage.
“No, but I will in the fall, I’m sure.” Kai bit he
r lip, hesitating. “Don’t yell at me, but I called Dmitri last night. We had a long talk, and I agreed to marry him this summer.” As Kai spoke, the light in her eyes dimmed.
Marina took her sister’s hand, which was trembling. “Are you sure?”
Kai hesitated before nodding. “You were right about a lot of things, too. I’m probably too old to start a family anyway. It’s time I settled for what I can get.” She winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Dmitri is a good guy, and he has a great relationship with his children.”
Marina saw Kai’s shoulders slump. Fifteen minutes ago, the confident Kai was full of joy, chatting with strangers and turning them into friends. “Do you have to act so quickly? You’ve only been dating for a month.”
“But I do,” Kai said. “If I don’t meet him in Chicago, he says it’s over.”
As Marina wiped down the table, she made a face. “That’s an ultimatum. Don’t fall for it.”
“You’re suggesting I abandon a decent man who wants to marry me, which—news alert—doesn’t happen every day?”
“Just because you’ve got the proverbial bird in the hand doesn’t mean it’s a good one for the long term. I sure learned that.”
“But Grady left you,” Kai said.
“You don’t have to remind me,” Marina said. “But I’ve given that situation a lot of thought, and I’ve learned from it. What if I’d decided to try to get Grady back? Would he have been worth it? Some mistakes can be forgiven, but he was way past the age of rehabilitation. It’s a rare old bird that can do that. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but the odds are against it. You have to come to terms with abandoning your dream of a family. I’m not sure you have. That’s the crux of the problem, and you have to be honest with yourself.”
Kai grew quiet, and Marina knew she’d hit her sister’s most sensitive nerve. They left the market, got into the car, and drove the short distance to the cottage. They could have walked, but the car had been full of baked goods that morning.