Summer Beach

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Summer Beach Page 17

by Jan Moran


  “Once all this is packed, let’s eat,” Kai said. “I’m already starving.”

  Marina withdrew some cash from her jeans and handed it to Kai. “My treat. You know my favorite places. Bring anything to tide us over.”

  “Sushi, Thai rolls, cannoli, or tacos?”

  “Surprise me. And before we leave, I have more foodie research to do. Are you up for staying another day?”

  “Yum, I like the sound of that. I don’t have to be anywhere,” Kai said, hurrying out the door.

  After Kai returned, Marina sat with her sister in a corner of the living room. They ate sushi while the movers loaded the van and talked about the summer ahead.

  Once the van was packed, Marina closed the door to the apartment and delivered the key to the landlord upstairs. Marina and Kai showered at the inn they had booked while the apartment was torn apart, and then they spent the rest of the day and the next morning visiting many of Marina’s favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Having lived in the neighborhood for years, she knew many of the owners. After sharing her plans in Summer Beach, several offered to help and told her to call anytime she needed guidance.

  “What’s the most challenging aspect of running your restaurant?” Marina asked one owner.

  “Consistency in food preparation, hiring the right employees—and standing on your feet most of the day.” The woman placed her hands on the counter and beamed. “But I like making good food that people enjoy. Food is love—and you have to love to serve others.”

  “I think that’s true of many professions,” Marina said. In her former position, she got up early every morning, eager to share the day’s news with viewers. Many contacted her through social media or wrote to her to thank her for her friendly, even-toned reporting style. When Hal arrived at the station, he had complained, saying that she was too nice—a dinosaur, in fact—and that today’s viewers wanted edgy shows.

  Edgy shows and sexy young women, that was the news show Hal wanted.

  He sure paid for that mistake. Now, Marina could laugh at that comment, although it had cut deeply at the time. If she were a dinosaur, that was fine with her. She was too old and experienced to go against her principles of journalistic integrity.

  Once again, she found herself eager to get up in the morning and ready to serve others. Only this time, instead of the fare being news, it would be good food and a relaxing setting by the sea.

  Marina couldn’t wait to get back to work.

  When Marina’s tiny car was packed, she and Kai drove by her old apartment one more time. With one hand resting on the steering wheel, she looked up at the old Victorian building. “This is the end of an era, isn’t it?”

  “It’s someone else’s turn to start fresh here,” Kai said. “You have Summer Beach.”

  “And the summer to kick off this crazy idea.”

  Kai put her hand on Marina’s arm. “It’s not crazy. I’d intended to spend a few weeks relaxing in the sun while Dmitri hammered out deals in Chicago and New York, but I’m all in with you on this project.”

  “You can go anytime,” Marina said.

  “I know, but I’m liking this vibe.” Kai drummed her hands on the dashboard. “Let’s go. It’s time that you got back to work.”

  “That reminds me.” Marina tapped a quick text to Ivy. On our way from SF. Okay to deliver the first batch of hors d’oeuvres to the Seabreeze Inn tomorrow?

  Ivy’s reply came quickly. Can’t wait! Drive safe, and see you then. Guests will be excited. When are you open for parties?

  With a frisson of excitement in her chest, Marina showed Kai the text. “Looks like we’re really in business.”

  Kai bounced in her seat. “Want me to make a shopping list for you as you drive?”

  “That would be great. I want to create standard shopping lists for certain dishes. That will save a lot of time in the future, and I can project costs for the dinner so I’ll know what to charge, and what kind of profit I can expect from each event. From that, I’ll calculate my return on investment and on time.”

  “Smart.” Kai stretched her arm into the back seat to grab a notepad out of her purse. “You already sound like a business owner.”

  “My visit to City Hall was a wake-up. At first, I found all those forms daunting, but that’s what it takes to be a professional.”

  “One step at a time, as Ginger always says.” Kai clicked her pen.

  As Marina recalled what Boz had said, an idea struck her. She quickly explained the stiff competition local Summer Beach restaurants were facing. “I know I’m the new kid in town, but the right media coverage to illuminate the issue would help.”

  Listening, Kai shook her head. “The problem seems deeper than that. Restaurants in Summer Beach have great food, but visitors don’t know it. That could be part of the reason they’re visiting, aside from the great beach.”

  “That’s public relations,” Marina said. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she turned to Kai. “What if there were an annual event that showcased local restaurants? Like a giant tasting party.”

  “Maybe a famous chef that could rate the local restaurants?” Kai’s eyes widened. “Who’s that chef with the spiky white-blond hair and the cool car?”

  “He gets a zillion requests,” Marina said. “We need something we can count on, something fast and effective.”

  Kai flipped open the pad of paper and clicked her pen. “Brainstorming time. Ready when you are.”

  “Let the ideas flow,” Marina said, pulling into traffic. “We’re on our way.”

  * * *

  On the drive back to Summer Beach, Marina dictated shopping lists, menus, and even recipes she had in her head. The more she could standardize from the beginning, the easier the tasks would be, especially once the business started growing.

  Marina and Kai brainstormed ideas that could help the local restaurants and the entire community of Summer Beach. Marina couldn’t wait to share her ideas. She’d start with Ivy and Mitch.

  When they parked the car in front of the cottage and began removing boxes from the small trunk, Jack emerged from the guest cottage.

  “Welcome back,” he called out. Scout raced eagerly in front of him. “Need help with those boxes?”

  “Sure do,” Marina said. Scout circled her legs, begging for attention. “Hey, you, did you miss me?” She knelt to rub Scout’s neck, and then the dog whined to Kai to join in.

  “He sure did,” Jack said as he picked up a couple of boxes. “Tell me where to put these.”

  “Thanks,” Marina said. “In the garage. I made some space on the side before I left. Hit the opener in the kitchen by the back door. If Ginger’s here, the door is probably open.”

  After waiting until Jack was out of earshot, Kai said, “I think he missed you more than Scout.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t know,” Kai said with a little grin. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” Still, even as Marina uttered the words, she felt a little pinch in her chest. There was something about Jack that made her pulse quicken when he was near. “I don’t have the time to think about him.”

  “There’s something,” Kai said. “I know that look in your eyes.”

  “Okay, we had a good talk before I left. Jack was on the beach playing frisbee with Leo and Samantha, and the frisbee got away from Leo. Scout was chasing it, and we had a little run-in. Anyway, after we sat and talked for a while, Jack helped me up then dusted me off.”

  Kai’s eyes flashed. “In the theater, we call that the meet-cute scene.”

  “Oh, stop it. There was nothing meet-y or cute-y about it. Shh, here he comes.” Marina paused to watch Jack stroll back. Scout heeled beside him, looking up at Jack with adoring eyes.

  “Got another one for me?” Jack scratched Scout behind the ears.

  Marina leaned into the back seat to pull out another box. “Got it. Here you go. And those on the other side, too.”

  Ja
ck loaded up the next round of boxes and took off.

  “What did I tell you?” Kai let out a little squeal. “Did you see that? He was enjoying the view when you reached into the car.”

  “Kai! He was not. He wasn’t even looking my way when I brought that box out.”

  “Well, he wasn’t obvious about it, but I can tell. I’m trained to read body language. He looked away out of modesty. You know what that means.”

  “Cut it out right now.” Marina remembered a promise she had made to Jack and passed a hand over her face. “Look, Ginger’s waving at you from the window. Better see what she wants.”

  Kai turned around. “No, she isn’t. I’m not six years old anymore.”

  Jack returned with Scout prancing beside him. “What else do you have?”

  “Just these.” Marina pointed to the last boxes. Kai was leaning against the car, intent on staying right where she was.

  Marina cleared her throat. “Say, I’m going to cater the tea and wine gathering at the inn tomorrow. You mentioned you might want to check it out.”

  “Sure,” Jack said, his face brightening. “I need to get out from behind the computer.”

  Marina hooked a thumb into her jeans pocket. “How’s the writing?”

  “Still organizing my notes. But I’ll get there.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks for the help.” After what Kai said, Marina felt awkward. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Wouldn’t miss your debut for the world.” He snapped his fingers and pointed toward the cottage. Scout raced ahead of him toward the guest cottage.

  Once the sisters were inside the house, Kai burst out laughing. “Jack’s interested, no doubt about it.”

  Marina thought of the conversation they had on the beach. She could feel herself falling for Jack, but she feared stepping into another insta-love mess as she had with Grady.

  “I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Marina said, feeling flustered. “Especially after Grady. Kai, I’m no kid, and I’m raising two of my own.”

  Ginger emerged from the kitchen. “I saw Jack helping you with those boxes. Is everything okay between you two now?”

  “Just fine, except my sister has it in her head that I’m interested in him.”

  “Okay, if you insist,” Kai said, shrugging. “Although what I actually said was that he’s interested in you.”

  Ginger raised her brow. “He’s a fine specimen of a man. Might make someone happy.”

  Marina’s mouth opened. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  Ginger whipped around, her zebra-striped caftan fluttering in the breeze off the ocean. “Well, I ain’t dead yet,” she said before returning to the kitchen.

  Marina swept her hands over her hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you, but I’ve got to shop for groceries.” Picking up her purse again, she headed outside to her car.

  Having an interest in Jack—or any man right now—was the last thing on her mind. And Jack had problems of his own. She didn’t know what they were, but there was something he was hiding. She could just feel it.

  Marina wanted no part of complicated problems. I have enough of those, thank you very much. She started the car.

  Kai came running out waving a list they’d made on the drive home. “You forgot this.”

  Marina rolled down the window and snatched it from her. “I don’t want to hear any more about Jack Ventana. I have work to do. Ethan might have quit school, but I still have to provide for him and make sure Heather stays in school. This is my life, Kai.”

  Kai folded her arms on the car door. “Exactly my point. Tough stuff happens, but if you’re not at least trying to make every day special, then what’s the point? As for Jack, I know you’re just getting over Grady, but isn’t it nice to know there’s someone who finds you attractive? Do with that what you will.” She made a face and whipped a hand around in a theatrical gesture. “And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.”

  Marina started laughing. She didn’t want to be angry at Kai. “This is one crazy family, you know that?”

  Marina was including herself in that statement. Still, Jack was creeping into her thoughts more often. With all that she’d endured with Grady, she wasn’t sure that was wise. One summer, that’s all this was.

  Chapter 17

  The next morning, Marina went to work in the cottage kitchen, preparing the hors d’oeuvres for Ivy’s afternoon event at the Seabreeze Inn. After taking her chilled pie dough from the refrigerator, she pulled out Ginger’s old wooden rolling pin from a drawer.

  Sprinkling a little flour on the dough and the roller to reduce the stickiness of the dough, she pressed the rolling pin down, smoothing out what would form the crust for the miniature mushroom and walnut tarts she’d made many times.

  “That old rolling pin has seen almost as many years as I have,” Ginger said as she walked in the kitchen. “That was a wedding gift from one of my aunts, and it traveled the world with me.”

  Marina tapped the rolling pin on the counter. “The first time I remember using it was to flatten modeling clay.”

  “Isn’t it interesting to think that mere objects will enjoy a longer life than we will,” Ginger said, glancing around the kitchen.

  Marina raised her head. That kind of talk from Ginger made her nervous. “Are you feeling okay, Grandma?”

  Ginger put an arm around Marina and kissed her cheek. “I’m fine, sweetie. You don’t call me Grandma very often.”

  Marina was grateful that she and her sisters still had Ginger. “Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic. I was thinking about when I first made these tarts for you and Grandpa. I think I was about eighteen.”

  “Perhaps I should have encouraged you more toward the culinary arts back then. Why, Julia Child would have loved to have met you and shared some of her dishes with you.”

  “But I had you, and you had her recipes, even her special ones. Which ones are your favorites?”

  “One can’t go wrong with her Boeuf Bourguignon or Quiche Lorraine. And her Crepes Suzette are always to die for. Those recipes are in her books that I gave you.” Ginger filled a kettle with cold water for tea and put it on the stovetop. “Watching her cook with Jacques Pepin on Cooking in Concert was such a treat. That show always reminds me of the time I spent with her in Boston.”

  Marina pressed a round cookie cutter into the dough before fashioning the small rounds into a miniature muffin tin. When that one was full, she filled a second one.

  Ginger inspected the areas where Marina had organized and measured her ingredients at different stations. “Very nice mise en place.”

  “You taught me to start organized and stay organized. Sure helps the process.”

  “Need help with anything?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this,” Marina said. She was in the flow and enjoying herself.

  Ginger measured out loose Earl Grey tea, and the citrusy bergamot aroma wafted through the kitchen. She poured the leaves into a mesh ball and snapped it shut before hanging it inside a teapot. “What type of hors d’oeuvres are you preparing?”

  “This pie dough is for mushroom and walnut tarts with fresh thyme from your herb garden. There was plenty, so I thought you wouldn’t mind. I’ll also serve cucumber curls with crabmeat, topped with an avocado emulsion, and a dollop of tobiko.”

  “Good choices. You’ll serve the cucumber crab first? It’s lighter on the palate.”

  “Of course,” Marina said. “Along with pear slices topped with goat cheese and crispy pancetta—all drizzled with honey. I’ll have ingredients ready for final assembly at the inn.”

  Marina motioned to a glass dish. “And I’ll finish with my luau spare ribs, which I’m marinating now. I’m using rice vinegar, soy sauce, ginger, and garlic, and then I’ll sprinkle the spare ribs with sesame seeds and slivered green onion stalks. I’ll also serve my rosemary and olive breads with olive oil.”

  “Sounds delicious. I’m sure the guests will enjoy it.” Ginger brought
two antique teacups from the cupboard. “When do you think we’ll have our first dinner here?”

  “Ivy is going to make an announcement at the gathering.” Marina paused to stir a mixture of mushrooms, walnuts, thyme, and onions on the stovetop. “As for other marketing, I’ll pass out flyers at the farmers market this weekend, Kai has the website ready, and I’m going to test some local ads on social media to drive traffic. I’m aiming for two weeks to get dinners underway. In the meantime, I’ll keep selling at the farmers market.”

  Ginger warmed the teacups with hot water. “Events like this one at the inn will send the word around Summer Beach in no time.”

  “I hope so.” Marina recalled the list of ideas that she and Kai had brainstormed on the drive from San Francisco. “Has Summer Beach ever had a food festival showcasing local restaurants?”

  “Not that I recall. Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what Boz said at City Hall, about chain restaurants stealing business from local places. Wouldn’t it be interesting to organize a tasting festival here? We could make Summer Beach a destination for foodies and support the local economy.”

  “I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Ginger said. “And where would you have this event?”

  “Ivy mentioned that they had an art show on the grounds of the Seabreeze Inn last year. We could do it there.”

  “Or here,” Ginger said. “The yard is certainly large enough. People can easily walk from the village, and we have plenty of street parking. That would bring attention to your work.”

  “Kai has offered to handle the entertainment, which we could set up on the deck. I can contact the local and regional news to gain coverage.” As she spoke of the idea, Marina was growing more excited. “We might call it Taste of Summer Beach, a food festival. Kai can whip up a website fairly quickly, and I’ll pitch it to local restaurateurs.”

  “Cookie could probably help you, too,” Ginger said. “I like your drive and enthusiasm. So, what’s stopping you?”

  Marina laughed. “Guess I’d better get to work. I’ll talk to Bennett to confirm a good date on the summer calendar. I imagine we’ll need at least a month to pull it together.”

 

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