by Geonn Cannon
She nodded and gestured with her chin. “Yeah. I saw yours was still there, so I told Clif I’d lock the office if you didn’t come by to pick it up before I left.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll go grab it.” She released Shane’s hand and went to the back of the dining room. Clifton’s office was a tiny cubbyhole tucked between the south wall and the kitchen. She went inside and found an envelope with her name on it in the usual place. She opened it, checked the amount as she always did, and tucked the envelope into the back pocket of her jeans.
She shut and locked Clifton’s office door as she left, cutting across the dining room towards the front door. She was about to leave when Shane’s voice brought her up short. “Molly.”
Shane was still standing in the kitchen door. She tilted her head toward the kitchen and said, “The rest of us are just sitting down at the family meal. There’s more than enough if you want to join us.”
Molly hesitated. She’d always felt uncomfortable at the family meal. It was a sort of victory lap for everyone who had survived the current day’s rush. Molly concocted reasons to miss it as often as she could; she felt unnerved by the intimacy it fostered, the togetherness.
But April was gone. Her parents, everyone in her family was gone. The kitchen staff was the only family she had left. She’d spent years running from April; she’d be damned if she would run from another family. Especially one that seemed to want her as its head. She let the front door close and turned the lock.
“What’s the meal tonight?” she asked as she crossed the room to join Shane.
Shane smiled. “Sockeye salmon.”
“Did you cook it?”
“No, Lilly did.”
Molly sighed. “I suppose it could be worse.”
Shane put an arm around Molly’s waist and pulled her into the kitchen. “I know you’re joking. If you really didn’t like her, you’d chase her from the restaurant with a butcher knife.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. They rounded the central island, with its headdress of knives and dangling pots, and Shane gestured at Molly. “Hey, look who I found slumming around outside.”
Lilly and the handful of waitresses who had chosen to join them greeted Molly politely. Molly said hello to all of them, complimented Lilly on how great the food smelled and took the seat Shane was offering. Shane took the seat immediately next to Molly and scooted her chair a bit closer. Molly smirked and whispered, “Subtle.”
Shane shrugged and said, “All right, folks. Dig in.” She picked up her fork with her left hand and rested the right on her thigh. Molly let her left hand slide across the distance between them to cover Shane’s. Shane looked up, momentarily surprised, and then turned her hand upside down. She laced her fingers around Molly’s and went back to her food.
Chapter Fifteen
Someone was torturing Jim Croce and his ghost had come back to haunt the world.
Molly kept her eyes closed but furrowed her brow in distaste as “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” went into octaves it was never meant to touch. She sat up, felt something weighing down on her shoulder, and realized there was a bottle of beer in her hand. She lifted it and cracked an eyelid. Empty. She let the bottle fall to the floor and reached up to move whatever had fallen on her shoulder. Her fingers met soft hair, and she turned to look. Shane was leaning against her, unconscious.
They were sitting on the floor of the kitchen, their backs resting against the prep table. The singing was coming from the dining room and, now that she was awake, she could tell it was Clifton. Molly eased Shane’s head off her shoulder and rested her against the table. Shane murmured something but didn’t wake. Molly pushed herself to her feet, took a moment to stretch the kinks from her back, and stumbled to the kitchen door.
“-- in the whole damn --” Clifton’s voice died in his throat as Molly stepped into the dining room. His eyes widened, and, from the expression on his face, he had just barely contained a scream. He cleared his throat and casually tucked his newspaper under one arm as he frowned at Molly. “What, uh...what are you doing here so early?” he asked.
“Fell asleep in the back,” she said. She looked around for a clock; just shy of eight in the morning. Sunday? No, Monday. She ran a hand through her hair and said, “We’re still opening at ten today, right? I have time to get home and change, shower...?”
“Yeah, go ahead. You can take as long as you want...I could have Shane come in to prep.”
The kitchen door opened, and Shane came out. Her hair was mussed, her eyes still half-closed, and she looked from Molly to Clifton. “Oh. Hi, Clif.”
Clifton coughed into his hand and said, “Okay. Uh, well...I'll get the morning crew to handle breakfast and lunch. Unless you happen to have them hiding back there, too.”
Molly smiled. She was too hung-over and exhausted to argue. “Thanks, Clifton. We’ll be back after the lunch rush.”
He unlocked the front door and ushered both of them out onto the boardwalk. Shane tucked her hands into her pockets and scanned the harbor as Gail’s front door was locked behind them. The first ferry of the morning was still at the dock, early-bird passengers still unloading into the street. Molly looked through the glass to see that Clifton had moved off towards the bar to read his paper. She turned to Shane and said, “So, last night...”
“Yeah,” Shane said with a pleased smile. “Last night was a lot of fun. What I can remember of last night, anyway.”
“We didn’t...” She moved a hand back and forth between them.
Shane smiled and shook her head. “No. No, after the family meal, everyone else left. You wanted to stay and talk, but mostly we just...drank.” She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “That six-pack you keep in the walk-in for emergencies? We’re going to have to replace that.”
“I got black-out drunk on a six-pack?” Molly said. She sighed and leaned against the railing. “I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“Oh, no. You were fine with the six-pack,” Shane said. “Splitting a bottle of white wine halfway through the six-pack probably wasn’t the best idea.”
Molly groaned. “Clifton is going to kill us.”
“Eh, there’s enough left to get the other crew through the morning and lunch. I’ll go to the liquor store on my way back here to pick up a replacement bottle. It’ll be fine.”
Molly trusted Shane to let it go for the moment. She walked towards her car, and Shane followed. Molly hesitantly asked, “Did we talk?”
Shane nodded. “About a lot of stuff.”
“Oh,” Molly said. She was suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s weird that you remember and I don’t. I feel like you’re reading my mind or something.”
“There are some things I’m fuzzy on. But I remember you talking about your sister.”
Molly looked away. The secrets and shame she’d been holding for years, suddenly she had blabbed everything to two different people in the space of a weekend. She had to admit, she did feel lighter. Like that stupid metaphorical weight people always talked about on their shoulders. Shoulders, she could’ve handled it. This weight had been on her chest. Bound around her torso, holding her so tight that she could barely breathe. She inhaled and closed her eyes, smelling the harbor and the exhaust of the tourists’ cars. It all smelled so sweet.
“I should hurry up and get home if I don’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”
“You and me both.”
Shane headed down the stairs to where their cars were parked and turned to face Molly. “I had a really good time last night. Maybe our next date, we can both remember what happened.”
Molly smiled. “I’d like that.”
Shane walked to her car and unlocked the door. “See you this afternoon.” Molly waved and watched until Shane pulled out of the parking space and disappeared around the corner. When Shane was gone, Molly turned her attention to the harbor. She thought to the conversation at the cemetery the night before
and thought about stopping by to check on Robin. She decided against it as she got behind the wheel of her car. Robin needed some time to deal with everything that had come to light during their conversation. It would be a hell of a lot easier if she wasn’t looking into April’s face while she came to terms with her death.
##
Robin woke and drew the blankets around her as she sat up and looked around the room. All her bags were packed and she was ready to go, as the song went. She and Molly had taken massive steps the night before. Robin felt relieved to let go of the memory of April’s death, felt like she could breathe easier now that she wasn’t shouldering the burden all on her own. She had dreaded Molly’s reaction, had braced herself for an attack or a confirmation of blame. What she’d never anticipated was Molly literally becoming April, taking such a huge step that had not only alleviated Robin’s guilt, but had unearthed a memory Robin didn’t know she had.
“Wake up, wake up, sleepyhead.”
She covered her eyes with her hand at the memory. April had been dying, and her last words had been a plea for her to wake up. “I’m awake,” she whispered. “Oh, baby. I’m finally awake. And I’m so, so sorry.”
Sorry their last conversation had been a fight.
Sorry that she hadn’t been paying attention to her driving.
Sorry for everything.
The difference, thanks to Molly, was that now she could imagine April possibly forgiving her. That alone was worth the trip to the island.
Robin threw the blankets aside and stood up. She wasn’t sure where she was going, if she was going to leave the island or stick around a few more days just to see Molly when everything had had a chance to settle. She’d fallen asleep after stripping down to her underwear, so she finished undressing and climbed into the shower.
She turned her face to the spray and let it assault her, let it flatten her hair and gather on her eyelashes. She let it flow over her shoulders, down her back and over her ass, down her legs to the drain. The water cleansed her completely, taking away the pain and the guilt that had built like a thunderhead at the front of her mind.
It was done. She’d come to the island to alleviate her pain and guilt by confessing. She’d done it, and now...she felt free to mourn.
She covered her face with her hands and pushed her short hair up and away from her forehead. She felt as if she was washing away the past, all the memories good and bad that had been crowding her like ghosts. She washed it all away, let it flow down her back and fade so that she could see the present when she opened her eyes.
But not April. She would never wash away April, she knew that, and she never wanted to. No matter what the tone of their last conversation, she knew April was The One. They had exchanged rings, they had made a commitment. The argument that ended April’s life would never have happened if there had been any way in hell they could have separated. Robin had wanted to run, April had wanted to stay. Parting ways had never been an option.
“I would have caved,” Robin whispered. “I would have stayed with you, April. No matter the cost, no matter the pain. I would have stayed with you in the end. You were my wife.”
And then, because she knew she had to say it out loud, she touched the wedding ring that hung against her chest. She slipped the tip of her index finger into the silver circle and whispered, “Good-bye, April.”
##
She and Shane relieved the morning crew after the lunch rush ended. As the afternoon wore on, between orders, the events of the night before slowly filtered back to Molly’s mind. Sitting with Shane on the kitchen floor, emptying a six-pack as Molly recounted how she’d spent the night. Shane held her while she cried. They’d graduated from the beer with three bottles left and grabbed one of the white wine bottles off the shelf. Molly popped it open with a corkscrew and poured Shane a glass. They’d toasted each other, swore they would go home after one more glass, and ended up passed out under the pass-through.
As they spun and danced around each other during the day, Molly kept catching Shane watching her. “Eyes on your work, hon,” Molly said with a smile.
“Sorry, babe,” Shane said.
Molly went back to work on her fish. Shane turned to pass a plate through the window. Her hip pressed hard against Molly’s, a steady pressure as she placed the hot plate on the shelf and took the next waiting order. Molly looked down, saw where her black-and-white checkered pants met Shane’s solid black, and pressed against her.
Shane pushed back and then disappeared.
“You’re invading my space, hon,” Molly said.
“Bite me, babe.”
Lilly looked up from her Sour Soup and said, “Are you guys fighting?”
Shane laughed and arranged shallots on her grill.
“No,” Molly assured the girl. “We’re not fighting.”
Lilly looked skeptical but went back to her order. Molly caught Shane looking at her over her shoulder and said, “We will start fighting, though, if Shane takes forever on that scampi.”
Shane rolled her eyes but obediently went back to work.
Molly looked back at her own prep table and realized she was smiling. She bit her bottom lip and slid the filet knife through the fish.
##
Robin stuffed the clothes she’d worn the day before into a woven bag, stuffed that into her suitcase, and looked around the bedroom for anything she might have missed. She patted her pocket to make sure her cell phone was indeed there, reached between the buttons of her blouse to make sure her wedding ring was still in place -- as she did almost every time she left someplace strange -- and finally shut the suitcase.
Downstairs, Mrs. Appleton was preparing lunch for the new guests that had checked in that morning. She turned when she heard footsteps on the stairs and said, “Oh, you’re leaving?”
“I am. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure, dear. You’ll come again sometime, won’t you?”
Robin hesitated and then looked through the curtains in the direction of the cemetery. “Yeah. I’ll probably come back at some point.”
“Good, good.” She patted Robin’s hands and said, “Would you like some lunch? I made more than enough.”
“No. But I’m glad you have some people to keep you company when I’m gone.” She waved politely to the two men sitting at the kitchen table and told Mrs. Appleton, “I’m going down to Gail’s for lunch, I think.”
Mrs. Appleton nodded and said, “Wonderful place, just wonderful. My Edgar used to take me there all the time, you know.”
“Really?”
“Mm, lovely place. Just great food. I thought it would change when Mr. Gail’s son took over, but it’s still just as good.”
Robin nodded. “I know the chef.”
“Oh, do you? Isn’t that something. I read about her in the newspaper...what was her name...? Margaret something?”
“Molly,” Robin corrected.
Mrs. Appleton nodded. “Yes, right. She does excellent work. Just wonderful. Enjoy your lunch, dear.” She looked at the suitcase and said, “Do you want to leave that here?”
“No, I’ll park at the ferry lanes and just drive onto the boat when I’m done eating.”
“Good plan, nice timing, of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.”
“I did,” Robin said truthfully. “Very much.”
Mrs. Appleton nodded and went back to preparing lunch.
Robin went outside to her rental car. She dumped her suitcase in the trunk and drove to the ferry lanes. She had an hour before the afternoon ferry and the line to Gail’s didn’t look terribly long. She parked in the farthest lane, giving herself a little extra time in case she ran late and the ferry started loading before she left the restaurant. She locked the doors, left the windows open a crack, and walked the rest of the way to Gail’s.
The hostess, who after three visits in as many days recognized her on sight, led Robin to a harbor-view table. Robin thanked her and ordered iced tea. The host
ess scurried off, and Robin looked over the menu. She tried to figure out what Molly would be most likely to cook. She settled on something called Poor Man’s Lobster, which was apparently boiled halibut, and leaned back in her chair to look out over the water.
##
Lloyd came to the window and held the slip out. “Poor Man’s Lobster,” he said.
Molly wrinkled her nose and waved the order slip away. “Bah, Poor Man’s Lobster. That’s not worthy of me. Lilly, take it.”
Lilly reached for the slip, but Lloyd held it up out of her grasp. “The waitress said that the customer is a friend of yours, Molly.”
Molly hesitated and took the order slip. As she read the scrawled order, she said, “Was it a tall woman, Italian-looking, really short black hair?”
“You forgot to add incredibly hot,” Lloyd said, “but otherwise you’re right on the money, yeah.”
Molly said, “I’ll take it.”
“You sure?” Lilly said. “It’s basically just boiling water.”
Molly nodded. She took a pan from the center island and filled it with water. As she set it to start boiling, she got a fresh slab of halibut and cut it into bite-sized pieces. She seasoned the water with salt and sugar, measuring carefully to make sure they wouldn’t overwhelm the fish taste. She dumped the halibut into the boiling water and pulled the quartered lemons she and Shane had prepped before the restaurant opened. She chose four lemon quarters instead of the usual two, since the order slip had said Robin was drinking iced tea. She placed the lemon on the plate at two, five, seven, and eleven o’clock.
A few minutes later, she checked and saw the pieces of halibut were floating on top of the water. She scooped them up, placed them on a bed of rice and squirted butter on them. She picked up the plate and said, “Shane, take over for me. Taking my break early.”
“You got it, babe.”
“Coming through.” she called just before she shouldered open the swinging door to the dining room. She spotted Robin at a table under a window and made her way over. “Lunch is served,” she said as she placed the plate in front of Robin.
