by Angel Moore
After a refreshing shower, she headed over to the Ocean Breeze restaurant. One of Agnes Bluhm’s homemade burgers and a mound of fresh cut fries would fill the gnawing in her tummy after the work of the move.
As she pushed open the diner door, Agnes stopped wiping the counter long enough to greet her. “Hello, Mallory. I didn’t know we’d get to see you today.”
Mallory sat at the counter as Geraldine, her former co-worker, came by carrying a tray of lunches to a table at the opposite end of the restaurant. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Geraldine gave her a knowing nod. “I’ll be back to take your order in a minute.”
Agnes moved around the counter and gave Mallory a friendly hug. “Don’t you mind her.”
“I won’t.” Mallory hugged the sweet owner of the diner. She was young for her years, and always the picture of kindness. “Can I feed the fish while I wait?” The large aquarium stocked with beautiful fish was Ocean Breeze’s unique feature. All the kids loved to watch the fish swim around the pirate ship while they waited for their food.
“You know you can. I think you might be the reason that white one is so friendly. He thinks someone’s going to feed him every time they walk by the tank.”
Mallory stepped behind the counter and retrieved the fish food. The five years she’d spent working in this place made it more of a home than anywhere she’d lived after her parents had died. She’d been almost five years old when a car accident had stolen them from her. The other driver had been at fault, but he’d perished, too, so there had been no one to take out her anger on, or to ask why. The sadness of it had been heavy like a riptide, but with God’s help and Mrs. Griswold’s guidance, she’d forgiven the stranger. The police said he’d fallen asleep on his way home from work.
The memory of her mother smelling of sweetness and cinnamon had faded quicker than she’d wanted. Every effort she’d made to clamp her eyes shut and pull them back to the front of her mind proved futile now. Her father’s broad shoulders and gentle spirit floated away with her mother into a place in her past that she knew had been happy, but was forever closed to her. All she had was the memory of her mother pulling warm cookies from the oven and her father laughing when she swatted his hand because they needed to cool.
Mallory ate her burger and fries while Agnes and Geraldine buzzed around the restaurant helping their patrons. She would not miss the long hours on her feet or smelling of fried food every night when she went home. Working at Ocean Breeze for so long had provided for her future, but she was more than happy to see the job in her past.
Agnes came over and put a tall chocolate milkshake in front of her. The tall glass was frosted with the cold of the thick shake. Fresh whipped cream and a giant cherry finished off the picture-perfect dessert. “A celebratory shake to mark your move into a new place. On the house.”
“You’re too kind, Agnes.” Mallory dipped the long spoon under the cream topping to scoop out the thick ice cream. “Thank you.”
“So. Did you meet your new neighbor yet?”
“Victor Burton?”
“Yes. That handsome son of pirates needs a friend in his life.”
“What makes you say that?” Mallory didn’t know if she should tell her old friend about Victor making it plain that they would only be neighbors and not friends. In her heart she hoped he was wrong.
“His mother and I are friends. Before she moved to Florida, she told me she was concerned about him reconnecting in the community. Especially with the whole treasure hunt in full swing.”
Mallory dropped her money on the counter and stood. “I’ll be friendly. He can’t resist being nice to his best customer. You know my sweet tooth.” She reached across the counter for a paper cup and poured the rest of her shake into it. “I’ll see you soon. Not being much of a cook is going to send me here often.”
“Not much of a cook?” Agnes laughed. “I remember the one time I tried to get you to help in the kitchen. “Not a cook is more accurate. And you know I’m speaking the truth in love.” The older lady gave her a wink.
Mallory laughed with her. “I guess it comes from not being settled during my youth.” Agnes sobered, but Mallory put a hand on her arm. “Don’t be sad for me. I’ve learned so much from all the different families who opened their homes to me. Not being able to cook is not so bad. At least, Mrs. Griswold shared her love of antiques with me. I’m not sad about it, so don’t you be.”
“Okay. I’ll expect to see you soon then.”
“You will.” Mallory waved at Geraldine and headed back to work.
As she walked back to her shop, she wondered about Victor and his aversion to the treasure hunt.
The offered reward for finding the treasure had driven many people to focus on searching to the exclusion of anything else. It was as if the town had a new hobby. Everyone knew the story of Victor’s ancestor, Drake Burton, and the town founder’s daughter, Camilla, and their secret marriage. The sad death of the newly-married bride had driven the groom to hide her family’s fortune. He’d perished at sea soon after, and no one had seen a trace of the treasure until a terrible storm in March had unearthed a few pieces of gold.
Ten percent of the treasure would be an amazing sum. She’d been tempted to search for it herself, but focusing on her new business had prevented her from having any free time.
Maybe she could convince Victor to search with her. They could divide the reward. Both of their businesses could use the financial boost that would bring.
She smiled as she neared her shop. She may have just found the way to get Victor Burton to come out of himself and reenter the society of Treasure Harbor. Maybe he’d even make a friend or two in the process.
* * *
Vic carried the last piece of furniture he wouldn’t keep to the back room. His mother giving Swashbucklin' Sweets to him after she married again had been a surprise.
He’d come back from culinary school hoping to work with her. His father’s obsession with the Callahan gold had ruined her life and Vic’s. Never could they spend a day without hearing the ancient tale of forbidden love and lost treasure. He’d carried on so that it cost him his family.
Their divorce had been final after Vic left for school, but he didn’t know his mother had been dating again until his graduation. She’d brought Mike Ramsey to the ceremony and announced their engagement to him at dinner afterward. Vic knew she meant it to be a happy surprise, but he’d been shocked. His plan to come back to Treasure Harbor and give her the life she deserved was ripped from him before he’d been able to share it with her.
He heard the front door open and went to greet his arriving customer.
Mallory raised a hand to him. “Hello, again.”
“Hi.” He stopped near the back of the shop. “Did you come for the furniture?”
“I did.” She smiled, and her face lit up. Her hair was pulled back and secured with one of those elastic things. He’d liked it better down around her shoulders.
“Where will you put it all?” He scolded himself for noticing her hair. But just as quickly, he noticed the shape of her eyes and the twinkle that seemed to always be there.
“I’ve got a good sized storage area. I’ll use it as a workshop. I’ll be able to work on pieces and be open to the public at the same time.”
“Okay. Well, since I don’t have any customers right now, I can help you carry it all over.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“Okay, then.” He’d just said that. What was the matter with him?
She grinned. “O…kay, then. Shall we get started?”
Vic cleared his throat. “Sure.” He turned and led the way. Maybe he could find his voice and gather some coherent thoughts before he said something else that made him look stupid.
Mallory grabbed up two chairs first. “I propped my back door open.”
“There’s a stick propped in the corner there.” He indicated the corner by the exit. “You can use it to hold my door open.”
> “Oh, good. Then we won’t have any more near misses.”
He was taken aback when he followed her into her space. He’d never been in the back of the shop when the previous tenants had sold surfing equipment. He’d never been in the front either. For someone who grew up at the beach, he’d never made the time to learn to surf. He was more of a kayaker. School had kept him away from Treasure Harbor for most of the last few years, and he hadn’t had much chance to enjoy free time. Since his May return, he’d been busy planning the future success of Swashbucklin' Sweets.
He set the table he’d carried next to where she put the chairs.
Mallory turned to him and held out her hands. “Would you like to take the tour?”
It would be rude to refuse after the excitement she’d shared in his store. “Sure.”
“This is where I’ll refurbish the pieces that need work.” She waved her arms dramatically to indicate the different areas of the workroom. “And this is where I’ll keep pieces that I haven’t delivered or pieces that are too fragile to put on the floor before they are repaired.”
With a flourish worthy of a model but as playful as a happy child, she went into the front of her building.
He tried not to laugh at her obvious pride. “So these are the finished pieces that are for sale.”
“Yes.” She dropped onto an old-fashioned sofa with a high, curved back. It had wood trim that gleamed from a fresh polishing and a red fabric with tiny flowers. She rubbed her hands across the rich fabric.
“Where did you find all of this? You must have been storing it away.” He touched the chains on a cuckoo clock that hung on the wall near the front door.
“I bought something every time I had enough money. There are auctions and estate sales in the area all the time.” She stood and shifted the placement of a small table. “I’d refinish them and use them in my apartment. I knew when I moved here I’d basically be sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but it was the only way I knew to build my inventory without having to pay storage fees for years. I used the storage money to buy more things.”
“How very frugal.” He cut his eyes to see her frown. “And wise.”
The frown disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Thank you.” She turned to him. An awkward pause hung between them for mere seconds before she said, “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your work. I best get the rest of those things out of your way.”
As Mallory led the way through the back door, he missed the playfulness she’d exuded moments before. Perhaps money was a subject best avoided. Maybe she was like him and didn't want people to know anything about her personal business.
They were able to move everything into her workroom in less than half an hour. The heat of the day had him longing for a cold glass of iced tea.
He went through the back door again and pivoted to tell her goodbye. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to use any of those pieces. If it was winter, at least they’d serve as firewood.”
“Oh, there’s a treasure in every one.” She smiled like she had most of the morning. Her excitement over moving in and opening her own place was infectious.
“You’ll have to let me see the finished products.” He lifted a hand and stepped back.
“Sure. And if you decide you want anything back, please tell me. I hate to see your history leave town with a tourist when it would be such a lovely reminder of your heritage.”
He stiffened. She didn’t understand how badly he longed to separate himself from his family’s past. “That is precisely why I won’t want any of it back.”
Chapter Three
Mallory backed down the ladder and moved it out of the way. She went to the edge of the sidewalk to turn and survey her handiwork. The large window in the front of her narrow shop was crucial to attracting customers. She’d spent the previous evening stenciling her logo onto the glass. This morning she’d painted every detail with love and care. Her future success depended upon her branding and work ethic. She promised herself that neither would ever be lacking.
She tilted her head to one side, then another. A smile covered her face. It was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be. Nothing was perfect. And she, for one, was glad of that.
“Looks good, Mallory.” The mail carrier walked up and stood beside her. “I’d have expected nothing less than your own twist on the front of your store.” Amber Smith, her former classmate, handed the day’s mail to Mallory. “You need to get your mailbox up soon.”
“I’m hanging it after lunch. I painted the numbers on a while ago. It’s drying in the back.”
“Can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with for that.” Amber peered through the window. “I’ll have to come by with my mom and check out the inside this weekend.”
“I’d love to see her.” Mallory clapped the small stack of mail against her open palm. “Thanks for delivering before I got the box up.”
Amber shook her head. “You may not thank me after you read what everyone is getting today from the tax commissioner.”
“Oh, no! Please tell me it’s not bad. You know I’m on a shoestring budget here.” She flipped through the envelopes and found the one Amber warned her about.
“It’s a special tax assessment to cover the town’s expenses from cleaning up after the storm. It hit everyone. I’ve heard insurance rates are going up, too. Flood insurance on the coast was already bad enough, but the rates are climbing to keep up with all the storms the country has seen in the last few years.”
The door to Swashbucklin' Sweets opened, and Victor stepped onto the sidewalk. He gave a curt nod to her and Amber. “Anything for me today?”
Amber handed over his mail. “Don’t kill the messenger.” She waved to them both. “Hope tomorrow brings happier news.” She pivoted and went on her way, stopping at the next storefront and sliding the foreboding mail into the box.
Victor thumbed through his mail. “What was she talking about?”
“A tax bill.” Mallory hated the tremble in her voice. She couldn’t afford anything extra right now.
“Why?” He slid his thumb under the flap of his notice and tore the envelope.
“To pay for the storm clean up.”
He muttered to himself. “That’s the last thing I need.”
“Tell me about it. It’s taken all my savings to move and get the utilities on and the security deposit paid.”
He looked at her then. “I’m running on a shoestring myself. Mom handed over the business, but Dad had used all the capital before the divorce. It was all she could do to keep the place open. If we hadn’t owned the building outright, I’m sure it would have been gone years ago, too.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Is that why you are wanting to change things?”
“Exactly why. It’s one thing to want to have a history, but I need to have a future.” He stared down the sidewalk toward the pier. “I shouldn’t be worrying about keeping the business afloat. I should be celebrating its success and perhaps opening another location in a neighboring community. My family history has robbed me of everything that should have been here. I won’t let it take my future, too.”
“I was blessed to get this place. The rent for a building in the Harbor View area is usually more than twice the amount on my lease. Mrs. Griswold’s father offered me the place as soon as the surf shop owner’s lease ended. I’ve got to make it work.”
“If you’re renting, why would the tax bill come to you and not the landlord?”
“It was part of the agreement for the low monthly rent. I take care of all repairs and bills associated with the property.”
“Will you buy it from him in time?”
“I have that option in the lease, but I have to make a go of it first.” The sadness of more obligations pulled at her spirit.
Victor looked at his tax bill again. “This is going to make things very difficult for me, too.”
Mallory had an idea. He might not agree, but it could possibly solve both of their problems. �
�Victor! What if we look for the treasure together? The reward could save us both.”
The choppy sea at the end of the pier was nothing compared to the storm in his eyes. “I go by Vic now. And I will not look for treasure. That treasure is why I don’t have any savings.”
“But how will you manage? You’re remodeling, and this bill is due in six weeks.
His face was closed to her. The underlying pain or tension she saw in him with every encounter was there again. “I’m hoping to have the shop looking good by the weekend. July 4th always brings good business to the pier and beach.” He opened his door. “I better get back to it. The weekend will be here before we know it.” He went inside.
A long, slow exhale did nothing to calm her new anxiety. A prayer as she breathed in again might be her only hope. But it was always good to pray.
Lord, You knew about this tax bill before it was ever mailed. You know our community needs the money. And we are the community. Help the tourists to come. And please let them be in a buying mood.
She took the mail inside and came back out to clean up the painting tools. Nodding her head at the finished window, she said, “It’s going to be okay. I know in my heart it is.”
After lunch, the mailbox was her next project. She stepped out into the afternoon heat. Her pencil dropped to the sidewalk as she tried to level the mailbox and mark the wall for the mounts.
The pencil appeared in her peripheral vision. “Do you need a hand?”
Victor.
“Thank you.” She held the antique metal box with one hand and took the pencil from him. “You’re everywhere, it seems – for someone who said we’d be too busy to be friends.” She made the last mark and set the box on the windowsill.
He picked up her drill and made the holes for the mounts. “I saw you through the window. Looked to me like you needed an extra hand.”
