by Mona Ingram
The farther she got from the city, the more she relaxed. The highway climbed precipitously, and now and then she caught glimpses of the glittering ocean far below. Breathtaking in its beauty, the landscape invited further exploration.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten a thing today.
“Why not?” she said aloud, studying the signs along the highway. “There has to be something in this little town coming up... Arbutus Cove? That sounds promising.” She turned off, and a few metres down the road, she saw a small sign tacked to a tree: Arbutus Cove Diner. Success!
A secondary road led down to the water via a series of twists and turns. Here and there, driveways led up to what she assumed were homes, but she was too busy navigating the narrow road to catch more than a glimpse.
After several minutes, the road leveled out. A few homes perched on the water side of the road, facing the Gulf Islands, Georgia Strait and the Coast Mountains in the distance. She rounded one more corner and the road came to an abrupt end. A large paved area fronted an old building. A faded sign painted on the wall facing the parking lot announced that this was the diner. At first glance, the building looked like it had originally been a home, with sections added on over the years as evidenced by various types of siding. Somewhere around ten vehicles were parked haphazardly on the property, most of them pick-up trucks. Lexie got out, stretched and headed toward the building.
“Heads up!” A burly workman shouldered through, carrying several two by fours. He offered a brief nod and a smile, and disappeared around the far side of the building. Moments later, the high-pitched whine of a saw broke the silence, then was answered by the call of a Steller’s Jay. She didn’t blame the bird for complaining about the noise. Perhaps the restaurant wasn’t open for business, but she was here now... she might as well explore.
The interior was dark and cool. An L-shaped counter with stationary metal stools could have been the setting for a Norman Rockwell illustration. The counter was empty except for a man with a tool belt slung around his hips. He turned and acknowledged her presence with a brief nod, and then went back to his coffee. A row of booths hugged the far wall, and in the middle, Lexie counted eight empty four-tops. She noted in passing that the salt and peppers were clean and filled, and that the chrome on the sugar dispensers shone brightly.
“Oh, hello.” A young woman appeared from what Lexie assumed was the kitchen. Wild hair covering almost half of her head was the colour of Christmas poinsettias, splashed with patches brilliant blue for good measure. The balance of the girl’s head was shaved, the better to show off multiple piercings in her ear and lower lip. The effect was startlingly attractive.
Lexie looked around. “Are you open?”
“Sort of.” The girl looked over Lexie’s shoulder, and she turned to follow her line of sight. Beyond the restaurant, four workmen were screwing in flooring on a broad deck. From what Lexie could see, the deck was designed to open up in the summer months. “We agreed to stay open for the crew, but the cook hasn’t been here for the past two days.”
“You’re alone?”
The girl shrugged. “Kinda.”
“You either are or you aren’t.” Lexie smiled to soften the words.
“Yeah, I’m alone.”
“Too bad. I had my taste buds all ready for a hamburger.”
“I could make you a sandwich, and I have some coffee.” The girl was trying to please, and Lexie felt sorry for her.
Lexie slid onto a stool. “I’d love some coffee.”
The girl poured steaming liquid into a heavy mug.
Lexie took a sip. The coffee was good. “What’s your name?”
“Carly.” She fidgeted nervously. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I don’t think so, thanks.” She lifted the cup. “The coffee is good.”
Carly’s smile lit up her face.
“This is a beautiful spot. Is it okay if I go outside with my coffee?”
“I guess.” Carly glanced at the workmen. “But don’t get in their way.”
Lexie’s protective instincts came to the fore. “Have they been giving you a bad time?”
“No, they’ve been great. It’s rules about a construction site or something.”
“I’ll be careful. By the way, I’m Lexie.” She went outside and walked to the edge of the deck. Located about thirty feet above high tide, the diner clung to the edge of a spectacular cove. Apart from what appeared to be a couple of small cabins, the diner was the only building on the cove. A secluded site like this was a rare find, and she envied the owner of the property. It was almost a shame to locate a restaurant here, but she imagined it to be a popular spot no matter what the weather. With the summer rush right around the corner, the construction crew were undoubtedly under pressure to meet a deadline.
At the base of the hill, a dock jutted out into the water. The pilings looked to have been recently replaced; someone was putting money into the place. It took her a few moments to spot the meandering trail through the rocks. One branch of the trail led up to the restaurant, while the other meandered off in the direction of the cabins, which appeared unoccupied.
A temporary set of stairs led from the deck down to the path. She stepped down, and the sounds of hammering and mens’ voices faded into the background. Clasping the coffee mug in both hands, she looked out over the water. What would it have been like to explore this coast several hundred years ago and come across this sheltered spot? She craned her neck to see the water’s edge and thought she spotted a narrow strip of sand. Judging from the high water mark on the rocks, the tide was nearing its peak; no doubt a small beach would reveal itself in a few hours when the tide went back out. She found herself wanting to stick around and see if she was right.
Content to sit and soak up the sun, she allowed her mind to wander. She didn’t know if it was due to the calming rhythm of the waves on the shore below, but contentment seeped into her bones and she let out a long sigh. She could get to like this.
Growing up near Toronto, her parents had owned a place in cottage country, up in the Muskokas, and she had fond memories of clambering over rocks and jumping into clear lake waters. She still enjoyed being near water, but if forced to choose, the ocean would win out every time. She loved the wild and dangerous aspect of the ocean, especially when winter storms lashed the shoreline in Victoria, sending spray high into the air before crashing over the roadway that skirted Ross Bay Cemetery.
Perhaps that’s why discovering this sheltered cove pleased her so much. This was the other face of the ocean. Sure, it could get rough here, as evidenced by random pieces of driftwood flung high up and lodged in the rocks, but generally speaking, Arbutus Cove represented a safe harbour. And a safe harbour was just what she craved.
She lifted her coffee mug, but it was empty. Too much daydreaming would do that. Glancing at her watch, she was surprised to find that she’d been sitting out here for half an hour. The sun had moved behind a tree but the heat of the early summer day lingered, releasing the scent of pines. Mixed with the salt air, it was better than any perfume, and she inhaled deeply.
A gurgle from her stomach reminded her that she was still hungry. She rose and made her way back into the restaurant, picking her way carefully through construction materials and the snaking cords from power tools.
The workmen were taking a break. Clustered around one of the tables, they discussed the new pitcher hired by the Blue Jays. Lexie waited while Carly put on a fresh pot of coffee, then drew her aside. “Are you sure you won’t turn on the flat-top and grill me up a hamburger? No offense to your sandwich-making abilities, of course.”
“I would if I knew how.” Carly darted a look toward the workmen. “They’d love one as well, but I just don’t know enough about it.”
Lexie made a decision. “Can I look? I’m a...” She paused. “I’ve worked in a kitchen before. Maybe I can put something together.”
“But...” Carly started to object, then changed
her mind. “What the hell. Excuse my French, but Sean’s been gone for two days and who knows how much longer he’ll be out.”
“Great.” Lexie entered the kitchen and looked around. It had been left clean, at least. “I suppose your cook uses frozen patties? Where does he keep them?”
“In the freezer. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Lexie grinned. “We’re about to find out, aren’t we.” She grabbed half a dozen patties, threw them into the microwave, then walked to the cooler. “I see he stored the buns in here. They’ll be a bit stale, but we’ll brown them on the flat-top and you’ll never be able to tell the difference.” She studied the switches, turned on the heat and looked around. “Onions?”
Carly opened a bin. “Here. Also potatoes. We cut our own fries.”
“Sounds great, but we won’t push our luck today.” She grabbed a clean white towel, tied it around her waist and tested several knives. “Sharp enough,” she stated, grabbing several onions and starting to peel them, her movements quick and confident. “What about toppings? What do you have?”
“What do you want? And why do you need half a dozen patties? I mean, I know you’re hungry, but isn’t that a lot?”
Lexie gave her a saucy look. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yes, but...”
“Believe me, when those guys out there smell these onions cooking, they’ll want one too. Now... toppings?”
“Well, we have lettuce and tomato. And you seem to be making those caramelized onion things I’ve seen on television.”
“Right. Stir those onions, would you. Ideally, they should be kept constantly moving. What about jalapenos? Or cheese? Do you have any of those?”
“We have both.”
“I suppose the cheese is those processed slices?”
Carly nodded.
Lexie shrugged. “Can’t be helped. Bring ‘em out. And some condiments. Get those out, too.”
A clattering noise in the parking lot drew Lexie’s attention. “What’s that?”
“Probably Brandon. The parking lot is the only paved space for a few miles and he uses it to skateboard.”
Lexie raised an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend?”
“Euuuw! No!” The young girl pulled back, but continued to watch Lexie’s every move. “He’s a couple of years behind me.”
“Two years. And you’re what? Seventeen?”
“Eighteen.”
“So that makes him sixteen. I know what you mean. Two years was a huge difference at that age.” Lexie flipped the burgers and pressed down. “We should probably get out some more patties. I don’t have enough here for us after we feed all the workmen, not to mention Brandon.”
“How do you know they’ll want one?” Carly placed a few more patties into the microwave.
Lexie laughed. “Show me a construction worker or a teenager who can’t put away a hamburger at a moment’s notice. Anyway, it’s on the house; they’ll love them.”
“On the house?” Carly’s voice rose. “How can I explain that?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay for them if necessary, but your employer should thank us for doing this. I don’t care how beautiful this spot is, he’ll lose all of his business if people can’t rely on the place. Oh, you should probably put on a second pot of coffee as well.” She started to assemble the burgers. “How many guys out there?”
Carly peeked out. “Five.”
“Okay.” Lexie cut the burgers in half. “Better warn them about the jalapenos on these two. Some people don’t like them, but I think they’ll surprise you.”
Chapter Four
“UH...” CARLY APPROACHED the table nervously. “Hamburgers, on the house.”
The men looked up. “Is Sean out back?”
“No. Lexie made these... the woman who was sitting outside. She said to warn you about the jalapenos.”
The oldest man spoke up. “Well, something smells good.” He checked his coffee mug. “Maybe you could bring some more coffee too, Carly.” He took a large bite of the burger and let out a moan of pleasure. “Doesn’t taste like anything Sean ever cooked.”
Carly beamed as though she’d made them herself. “I watched her, and she sure knows her way around a kitchen.”
“Old Sean better watch out. He’ll be losing his job.” One of the men pulled out a chunk of jalapeno and popped it into his mouth. “These pickle things are good.”
“I’ll tell Lexie you liked it.”
Lexie had almost finished cooking four more patties when Carly walked back into the kitchen. Compared to Sean, she moved at light speed.
“What’s the matter with your cook? Sean, I think you said?” Lexie laid slices of cheese-like substance on the patties.
Carly had been dreading the question. She’d heard horror stories about other cooks, but Sean had always been easy going and kind. Of course he drank too much; everyone in the small community knew that. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed to hold on to his job this long.
She lowered her eyes. “I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind.”
Lexie paused and rested her spatula on the edge of the flat-top. “I understand your loyalty.” She quickly assembled three hamburgers, making one with double patties for Brandon. “Here, take this out to your friend.” She took a bite of her own and studied the kitchen layout. There were a lot of places to hide booze; she’d already noticed two partial bottles of rum. The cook must be getting sloppy, because one of the bottles had been in plain sight. Since this restaurant didn’t have a liquor license, she had to assume they belonged to Sean.
She devoured her burger and wished she had another one. No matter... another cup of coffee would go down well. On entering the restaurant, she was met with applause. It stopped her in her tracks and a blush crept into her cheeks. She had created many outstanding dishes over the past few years, and had often been featured in Victoria’s foodie publications, but this show of appreciation from the construction workers touched her in a way that was hard to describe.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” She lifted the coffee pot. “Does anyone need more coffee?”
The oldest man rose. “Thanks, but we’ve been sitting here long enough.” He hitched up his belt. “That was a delicious hamburger, ma’am.” He cocked his head to one side. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
Caught like a doe in the headlights, she looked from one man to the other. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well... the boys and I sure enjoyed the burgers.” He indicated a pile of bills on the table. “That should cover it.”
Lexie stepped forward. “Oh, no. That was on the house.”
“That’s what Carly said, and we thank you. Maybe you could give her the money as a tip. With no food to serve, she’s been losing out on her usual tips.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Thank you.”
She watched the men go back to work. A far cry from her Bistro customers, many of whom seemed to think that the more they spent the ruder they were entitled to be. She started to clear off the table and then stopped to let her gaze wander around the simple restaurant. Yesterday she’d been a chef in a French restaurant and now, a little more than twenty four hours later, she was busing tables. The odd thing was, it felt good.
“What are you doing?” The horror on Carly’s face was almost comical. She grabbed a grey bus tray and started to load it with dirty plates and mugs. “You don’t have to do this.”
Lexie handed her the bills the men had left. “The guys left this for you as a tip and I accepted on your behalf.”
Carly stared at the money, then raised her eyes to meet Lexie’s. “I can’t take all this. Half goes to you.”
“No. The older one who seems to be in charge mentioned that you’re not earning any tips. He wants you to have it and I agree.” Lexie softened her tone. “You’ve made the best out of a bad situation and I admire that.” She gave the table a quick wipe with a corner of her makeshift ap
ron. “How did Brandon like his burger?”
“He loved it, and asked me to find out if you’ll be here again tomorrow.”
Lexie gave a self-conscious little laugh. “That’s the second time in five minutes somebody has asked me that.”
“What was your answer?”
“I told them the truth. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” She reached for the tray and set it on an adjacent table. “Sit down for a moment, Carly. I want to talk to you about something.”
The young woman perched on the edge of a chair. “Yes?”
“I want you to know that I understand about loyalty.” Her thoughts drifted for a moment. “But that’s another story.” She pulled her focus back to Carly. “What I’m trying to say is that I know the cook drinks on the job. I found two bottles in the kitchen, and there are probably more.”
Tears sprang to Carly’s eyes and Lexie laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m sorry if it upsets you to talk about it, but hiding his drinking isn’t doing him any favours.”
Carly knuckled away a tear that had rolled down her cheek. She seemed relieved to be talking about the problem. “I know. The thing is, everyone in town knows he drinks, but they all ignore it. We’ve all looked out for him so long; it’s become a way of life.”
Lexie sighed. “Does he do this very often? Not show up for work?”
Carly thought for a moment. “No. He’s often hung over, but he’s always showed up before.”
“I’m surprised that he hasn’t hurt himself.” Lexie nodded to herself. “His knives are just barely sharp enough to cut; now I know why. But there are a lot of other ways he could endanger himself. The deep fryer, for example.” A sudden thought struck her. “This renovation must be costing a pretty penny. With someone like Sean in the kitchen, fire is always a danger. I’d hate to see the owner lose his business because an employee can’t control his drinking.”