by Sonia Parin
When Jill slowed down to take a turn into the road leading to Mira’s house, Eve said, “Keep going. I need to get to the inn.”
“You’re just afraid of facing Mira. There’s no use hiding it from her. You know she’s going to find out about you being banned.”
“For your information, it’s Gerard’s day off and someone has to prepare breakfast.” Although, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to Mira’s reaction when she found out about her clash at the market.
Her aunt had lived on the island her entire life…
Oh…
Could Mira put in a good word for her?
“Hang on.” Jill frowned. “Cook? You’re kidding. You can’t cook with one hand.”
“That’s right,” Eve said. “You’ll have to be my right-hand person.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to call Gerard and tell him to come in?”
Eve shook her head. “I think he’s on his way to… somewhere. I can’t remember where, but I know he made plans with his girlfriend. We’ll be fine.”
“We? Could you be more specific, please?”
“Us.”
“You know I can’t cook to save my life,” Jill complained.
“This is as good a time as any to learn. Besides, I’ll only need you to stir the scrambled eggs and turn the bacon and… knead the bread.”
“Don’t you have a machine that can do that?”
Eve could not have sounded more shocked when she asked, “Is your lip quivering?”
“You might as well know I have a fear of failure. I’ve tried my hand at cooking and I suck at it, so I play it safe and steer clear of it.”
“And you know the best way to overcome fear is by facing it,” Eve said.
Jill stared straight ahead, eyes unblinking. Then she straightened. “I know what I’ll do. I’ll call Josh.”
“Are you sure you want your boyfriend to find out you’re afraid of a little cooking?”
Jill lifted her chin. “We have no secrets between us.”
“Say it with more confidence and then I might believe you.”
Jill pointed ahead. “Oh, look. The sun’s coming up. Finally.”
“Anyone who heard you would think this is the first sunrise you’ve ever seen.”
Jill looked away and hummed.
“It is the first time for you. Good heavens.”
“Is this the part where you tell me about working at your fancy restaurant in the city and getting up at four in the morning to hit the markets for fresh produce?”
“You already know that story. I was actually thinking you need to get up early more often. Sunrises are like sunsets, always different.”
Jill pushed out a hard breath. Glancing at Eve, she asked, “How’s your wrist?”
“Throbbing. It really doesn’t pay to be a Good Samaritan.”
Chapter Three
The Seabreeze Inn kitchen
“In milder wrist sprains, symptoms usually improve within two to three days. More severe sprains can take a number of weeks or even months to heal completely.” Eve stepped away from the computer and glowered at it. “Is that the best you can do?”
Turning to look out of the kitchen window, she saw Jill on the beach still playing fetch with Mischief and Mr. Magoo.
She must have sensed Eve watching. Calling out to her dogs, Jill trudged her way back to the house. When she opened the back door, Mischief and Mr. Magoo dashed inside and went straight to the sunroom to curl up on their favorite couch.
“All right, I’m here and I’m at your disposal. Just let me wash my hands and I’m all yours.”
Holding up her injured hand, Eve said, “You make it sound as if I’m going to stretch you out on a rack and torture you. Remember, I’m one-handed. And how long does it take to buy some rhubarb and blueberries?”
“I called Josh five minutes ago. You really need to lighten up.”
“Does he even know what rhubarb looks like?”
“Even if he doesn’t have a clue, being a detective in training, I assume he has the necessary skills to figure it out. Give him a break, he’s on study leave and now he’s running errands for you.”
“Only because you refused to go.” Although, Eve didn’t blame Jill. She might be young, but she had provided a reasonable argument, saying Chad and Wallace both knew she worked at the inn and would, therefore, not sell her any produce.
When Eve handed her the rolling pin, Jill’s eyes widened. She looked like a cornered mouse.
“I’m sure your guests will understand if they don’t have fresh bread for breakfast. Let them eat cereal.”
“Actually, it’s croissants for breakfast.”
Jill pressed her back to the wall, her eyes now wide with horror. “You never mentioned anything about croissants.”
“Relax. The pastry is made. It only needs to be rolled out and cut.”
“Yeah, right. You say that with so much confidence in my non-existing abilities.”
“That’s because I do believe in you. Besides, there’s no such thing as failure.” Eve checked her watch. “Time to start rolling.”
Wiping her hands dry, Jill took a tentative step toward the kitchen bench.
“You need to come a little closer. Come on, don’t be shy,” Eve encouraged. “You only need to roll this out. I’ll tell you when to stop. And, while you’re doing that, you can also tell me how to deal with the Farmers’ Market Association.”
“You don’t.”
“There has to be a way. They can’t deny me access to their produce.”
“Do I need to point out the obvious? They can and they have. Don’t give them an excuse to vote you out of the island, Eve.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not joking. Their influence is far-reaching. How do you think Roger McLain will react to the suggestion you be thrown out? He’ll insist on ringing the church bells.”
Eve clammed up but not before murmuring, “Why would he do that?”
“You know you scare him and you refuse to refer to him as the Town Elder.”
“I’m older. How can I… Oh, for heaven’s sake. It’s so antiquated.” Eve huffed out. “Who do they think they are? Why do they have so much power?” Eve tapped her finger on the kitchen bench. “Try to keep the shape rectangular. That’s it. Now we let the pastry rest for a few minutes.”
Jill wiped her hands and dashed off.
“Where are you going?”
“To sleep for a few minutes.”
“What about breakfast?”
Jill made a point of pretending to think about it. “No, I think I’ll take sleep over breakfast.”
“Oh… I’d sort of hoped you’d help me…” Eve clutched her stomach.
“I see. This is about your breakfast.”
Eve held her injured hand up. “Did I mention how much it hurts?”
“How long do you think you’ll be able to use that as an excuse?”
Grinning, Eve said, “According to Doctor Google, it’ll take anything from a couple of days to several months.”
“In your place, I’d demand a second opinion.” Jill glowered at her. “From a real doctor.” She got a couple of mugs and organized the freshly ground coffee. “Bacon and eggs with toast. That’s all I’m prepared to make.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Mischief and Mr. Magoo knew when the bacon was ready. Despite staying out of the kitchen, they managed to communicate their keen interest in the tasty morsel by drooling and wagging their tails from the door.
Jill fixed a plate for her dogs and took it over, then she set another plate down for Eve and added a flourish for good measure. “Bon appetite.”
“Oh, how sweet.” She looked down at the bacon strips. “I noticed you cut it for them.”
“Yes, I don’t want Mischief and Mr. Magoo choking on the bacon.”
Eve picked up a strip of bacon and nibbled the end. “And I suppose we’re going to eat in silence because you’re annoyed with me.”
&nbs
p; Jill set her knife and fork down. “Words can’t express my dismay over your behavior, Eve. This is serious.”
“Well, excuse me for being dutiful. Some might even say I acted as a peacemaker.”
Jill gave her wrist a pointed look.
“I would do it all over again.” Eve grinned. “Especially since you said that if you could do it over you’d break my fall.”
“Now comes the cutting and folding. Use the cook’s knife and cut like a guillotine. You want triangles and you want them all to be the same size. And I still don’t understand why Wallace and Chad have so much power.”
Jill rolled her eyes. “You just can’t leave it alone.”
“My throbbing wrist is a constant reminder.”
“In answer to your question, Chad Burrows and Wallace Greenaway have history here.”
“I should join their club,” Eve mused.
Jill gave a slow shake of her head. “That won’t do you any good. You’re not a producer.”
“Huh?”
“They produce goods and you offer a service. It’s one of those things. Never the twain shall meet.”
“That smacks of discrimination. And, strictly speaking, Wallace Greenaway doesn’t make the rhubarb. It grows all by itself.”
The back door opened and Josh walked in carrying a box. “Here’s your stuff.”
“Thank you and… You don’t sound happy.”
Josh removed his jacket and pulled up a stool. “Those guys eyeballed me the whole time I was there. And they asked questions. Lots of them. Finally, one of them said if he found out I was buying rhubarb for you, he’d impose a lifetime ban.”
“Did you get the rhubarb pie recipe?”
Josh’s finger shot out and he stabbed the air. “No. I asked but that’s when the guy with the bushy eyebrows made his threat.”
“What are you worried about? He’s not going to do anything to you,” Eve said.
“I’ve lived in the area long enough to know who he is. Guys like him know how to pull strings. Before you know it, I’ll be banned all the way from here to the West Coast.”
“I didn’t know you bought your produce from the market,” Eve said as she inspected the rhubarb.
“I don’t. I’m talking about other places like the café and the bakery.”
Shaking her head, Eve instructed Jill to wrap the remaining pastry and put it back in the refrigerator. “I’ll make some coffee. Actually, as you can see, I’m incapacitated. So, Jill will make some coffee.”
Eve got busy unpacking the box. “These will have to keep until tomorrow when Gerard can put them to good use. We still have a couple of hours before anyone comes down for breakfast. I could use an extra hand.”
Josh grinned. “Would you like me to call Jack?”
“I don’t think our relationship would survive that test,” Eve said.
“You just don’t want him asking how you sprained your wrist.”
“That too. What he doesn’t know he can’t use against me to prove a point, which is what he’ll most likely do if he finds out. So, cone of silence, people.”
“Are you keeping secrets, Eve?”
They all turned and saw Mira walking in.
“What are you doing here at this time of the morning?” Her aunt usually got up early but she’d been keeping late hours trying to finish her current book and getting up in time for a mid-morning breakfast.
“I tossed and turned all night. So I decided to get up and go for a walk. I guess I walked further than I planned.” Mira looked around. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Jill is making croissants.”
Josh and Mira both stared at Jill who appeared to take exception to their raised eyebrows.
“What? I can make croissants. It’s easy.”
Mira indulged her with a warm smile. Then she looked at Eve’s wrist. “I think I’ll wait for Jack to arrive so we can hear the news together.”
Eve gave her a tight smile. “Jack doesn’t need to know.”
“What don’t I need to know?”
Eve turned and gaped. Detective Jack Bradford stood at the kitchen door, his hands hitched on his hips.
“You’re a detective. It’s your job to figure it out.”
He grunted. “Does it have something to do with the complaint lodged against you?”
Chapter Four
The Great Fire of 1846
“A complaint?” Eve croaked.
“You picked a fight with the wrong people, Eve.” Jack helped himself to a mug and poured himself a coffee.
“You can’t drink my coffee and then haul me off to jail.”
“Like I said, it’s only a complaint…” Jack looked up at the ceiling. “There was something else. Let me think… Oh, yes. Any accomplices will be dealt with accordingly.” His gaze shifted to the box sitting on the kitchen counter.
Eve put a protective arm over the box. “You can’t possibly take any of that seriously.”
“It’s Wallace Greenaway, Eve. Everyone knows better than to pick a fight with him.”
Eve flapped her uninjured arm up and down. “What is wrong with these people?”
Mira gave her a comforting pat on the back. “You’re not a local, Eve. Otherwise, you’d understand. We have history.”
Eve hummed under her breath. “I keep hearing about this history but no one will tell me what it is. And how is Wallace Greenaway a local? He doesn’t even live on the island.” She used her good hand to give the counter a distracted wipe.
“Actually, he does. His family has owned a property here since the 1800s. It was only after a family dispute that his grandfather moved to the mainland.”
“There you go. He is the one with a history of hostility. It runs in his blood.” Eve stabbed her finger in Jack’s direction. “He’s the one you should be issuing a warning to. In fact, I wish to lodge a complaint against him.” She gave a stiff nod. “Yes, indeed. I wish to make it official.”
When Jack only smiled at her, she added, “Take out your notebook and start writing, Detective. I have plenty to say about his lack of civility and general antisocial behavior. Some people might get away with being labeled colorful, but he borders on psychotic behavior. I’m not an expert but he displays certain aggressive traits, which need to be taken into account. He… He flung blueberries at Chad Burrows.”
“Eve,” Mira warned, “you don’t want to blow this out of proportion. People will think you have a combative nature. Have some chamomile tea, dear.”
Jill sighed. “Mira’s right, Eve. You’ll only make it worse. Everyone will band together against you.”
Eve lowered herself onto a stool muttering, “Unbelievable.” Drumming her fingers on the counter, she said, “Is there some sort of secret handshake I can use to get in on whatever this is?”
“Sorry. Mira could sponsor you but she doesn’t have any hereditary rights because her parents weren’t born here,” Jill explained.
“Huh?”
“Roots, Eve. Roots. They run deep. Even if she did have hereditary rights,” Jill continued, “Wallace Greenaway would always have the upper hand because he can claim a heritage that goes back to The Great Fire of 1846.”
Mira nodded.
Eve snorted. “I suppose you can claim hereditary rights too.”
“As a matter of fact, yes. My parents’ house was built on the burnt remains of the original dwelling. If you can’t claim a lineage to someone who lived through The Great Fire of 1846, then you don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“The fire of 1846?” Eve echoed, her voice filled with disbelief. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“The Great Fire of 1846,” Jill corrected.
“Was it some sort of barbecue that went wrong? Oh, don’t tell me… A witch burning?” she mocked.
“No, Eve.” Jill sighed. “The Great Fire of 1846, the one that raged throughout the island.”
Frowning, Eve dug around her mind. “Now that I think about it, it rings a bell.”
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bsp; “Does it? Maybe you heard Mira talking about it.”
“No.” Eve shook her head. “Tell me more about this so-called fire.”
“The Great Fire of 1846 destroyed a third of the town.” Jill shuddered and lowered her voice. “People lost their livelihoods. Some had to leave the island.”
The room fell silent as Jill continued with her story.
When she finished, Eve clicked her fingers. “Wait a minute.” She rose to her feet. “Wait a minute. I know where I heard that story. I spent a year working in a quaint little restaurant near Cape Cod. It’s straight out of Nantucket.”
Jill shook her head. “Impossible.”
Eve laughed. “You pilfered their history.”
“We did not.”
“You did. Admit it. They had The Great Fire of 1846.”
Jill slammed her fisted hands against her hips. “Ask anyone. The Great Fire of 1846 happened right here on Rock-Maine Island.”
Eve nodded. “Sure it did. In your imagination. Ha! You’re all delusional. You can’t even come up with your own history. You have to steal someone else’s.”
Jill pursed her lips.
“Eve,” Mira warned.
“Not you too. Mira, I’m shocked.”
When her aunt folded her arms and pursed her lips, Eve snorted. “If I didn’t know better I’d say there’s something in the water. You’ve all fallen for this… this collective false memory.” She dug inside her back pocket and produced her phone. After a quick search, she whooped. “It’s right here. Nantucket. The Great Fire of 1846.” Holding up the phone, she added, “Read all about it.”
Jill looked away, murmuring, “They probably stole it from us.”
“It’s mentioned in books. What more proof do you need?”
Lifting her chin, Jill swung on her feet and left the kitchen.
“I think I might have breakfast in town,” Mira said and followed Jill out of the kitchen.
Eve laughed. “Really? Fine, go out there and have breakfast with your own people. Huddle together and commiserate over The Great Fire of 1846.”
Josh stood up and cleared his throat. “Right… well… I guess I should get going.”