Beachside Beginnings, page 28
“So it’s done. How’d he take it?” Moira asked.
“Not very well, I guess. I can only imagine what he said to Seth. I’m sure he called me every rotten name he could think of.”
“Why is it always us who are the bad ones and never them?” Moira wondered.
“Do you think I did the right thing?” Would Emma ever come to think she’d done the right thing?
“I know you did. How many chances have you given him over the last couple of years?”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Maybe this will really do it. Maybe after this he’ll join AA and stay in.”
“I don’t know. All I know is I can’t ride that roller coaster anymore.”
Whether she could or not, Greg didn’t want to let her off it. He showed up at the house at ten o’clock that night, blaring his truck horn, then banging on the door and shouting insults. Annie sat on the couch with Moira, her jaw clenched and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“I should call Victor,” Moira said, reaching for her cell phone.
Annie put a hand on her arm. “Please don’t. Greg’s already miserable enough. I don’t want to make him even more miserable by calling the police on him. He’ll give up and go home eventually.”
Moira nodded and put her phone back on the coffee table, then grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV.
Greg did finally go away and Annie did finally get to sleep. Somewhere around three in the morning, after she’d lain awake second-guessing her decision not to call the cops. He’d plainly been drunk, which meant he’d been driving drunk. He could have hit someone, killed someone, and it would have been her fault.
She woke up feeling heartsick and gritty-eyed. She had to be at work at seven o’clock. It was going to be a long day. Maybe she should have waited until the weekend to have those papers served. At least she could have slept in Saturday morning.
But no. She’d waited long enough.
“You’ve waited long enough for everything,” her mother assured her when she called home. “Stop feeling guilty for things that are his fault and get on with your life.”
Her mom was right. She had waited long enough for everything.
The very next day, after completing her morning shift at Sandy’s, she started scouring the web, checking out food trucks for sale. By the end of the week she’d found what looked like the perfect one for sale in Long Beach, another town farther along the Washington coast. The truck was eighteen feet long, complete with a flattop grill, refrigeration, a three-compartment sink, prep space and a toaster. And it even had AC. She could get it for nineteen thousand, which would leave her with just enough left from her grant to buy supplies.
Courtney, who was taking a break from a sewing project, joined her at the kitchen table, and Annie turned her laptop so her friend could see it.
Courtney looked at the picture and wrinkled her nose. “Kind of blah. Reminds me of my parents’ old camper.”
“I could paint it and it would look really cute,” Annie said.
“Correction. We could paint it,” Courtney said.
“The price is right, and it’s only eight years old.”
“So why is the person selling it?”
“I don’t know,” Annie said.
“Maybe whoever it is couldn’t make a go of it,” said Courtney.
Annie sat back in her kitchen chair. What if she couldn’t make a go of it?
“You can, though,” Courtney quickly added. “Long Beach is only a couple hours’ drive from here. Call Seth and get him to go with us to look at it. We can go tomorrow after you’re off work. Meanwhile, call the owner and tell him not to sell it to anyone else.”
Seth was willing and ready to go check out the food truck, so the next morning she, Emma, Courtney and Seth climbed into her car and set off for Long Beach.
“Can I help cook?” Emma asked as they drove along.
It was good to see her finally excited about something. And speaking to her mother again, something she hadn’t done for two days after Annie broke the news to her. All the assurances in the world that she’d still get to see her daddy hadn’t been enough to buy forgiveness. Courtney had finally intervened with some very hard truths about Emma’s daddy, which had left Emma not speaking to either of them. Fortunately, this new adventure had provided a temporary truce.
“When you get a little older, if you still want to,” Annie promised. “Meanwhile, though, I’m going to need someone to stand nearby and help hand out fliers when we open.”
If all went according to plan and she could get the permits she needed in time, she hoped to have a soft opening the last weekend in June. Then, hopefully, she’d be ready for the Fourth of July. Her parents would be coming down for the day and then planned to take Emma back to Seattle with them the next day, which would give Annie the rest of the summer to work her food truck on the weekends and take advantage of tourist season. If she bought the food truck, she planned to cut back to part-time at Sandy’s.
Scary thought, especially with her catering business getting off to a slow start. But she knew she’d have to scale back on something. In the end, being her own boss and having her own business was bound to make her more money than serving up eggs and pancakes at a restaurant.
But what if the food truck bombed?
It wouldn’t. She’d done her research. She’d plan carefully and be frugal. It took time to build any business. She could be patient. She wanted this badly enough. She’d make it work.
They followed the directions to an old house that looked like it had been built in the early 1900s. It sat on a large lot and had a long driveway. Parked on that driveway was the possible future home of Simply Delicious...on wheels.
“Is that it?” Emma asked eagerly.
“Oy,” Courtney said and gave the gum she was chewing a snap.
“It’s got potential,” Seth said. “Could be a good deal if the engine’s sound.”
Courtney pulled up the drive and parked behind the food truck and they all got out, Emma running ahead.
The seller had seen them coming and was already on the front porch. He looked to be somewhere in his fifties with long brownish hair pulled back into a ponytail. The size of his gut proclaimed him a lover of food.
“He probably ate all his profits,” Courtney said to Annie as he hurried down the porch steps.
“Hi, I’m Joe,” he said, shaking hands with all of them.
“I’m Annie, and these are my friends.”
“And this is Julia,” he said, motioning toward the food truck. “Named after Julia Child. We had some good times together, Julia and me.”
“Do you mind my asking why you’re selling?” Annie said.
He shrugged. “The wife. She’s tired of it. Thought it would be fun at first, you know. And it was, for about a month. Then reality set in. Long hours, man. And if you hire people to work it, there goes your profits.”
Joe obviously wasn’t a natural born salesman. As he talked, Annie began to feel the urge to run back to the car before she could drive off the food truck cliff.
“We got grandkids and we don’t want to work this hard anymore,” he continued. “I ain’t getting any younger. You’re still young, got lots of energy, dreams.”
Dreams. Yes, how could she have forgotten for even a moment?
“You gotta follow those dreams and catch ’em. Otherwise you end up with regrets.”
Joe wasn’t a salesman but he was a good philosopher.
“Can we take a look under the hood?” Seth asked.
“Sure. She’s not in bad shape.” To Annie, he said, “She’s unlocked. You can go inside and take a look around if you want.”
That was all it took for Emma, who was the first one in the door. Annie and Courtney followed.
“This is kind of cool,” Courtney said, looking around.
It was more than cool. It was perfect. Annie stepped over to the work space. Yes, she could see herself putting together shrimp croissant sandwiches here. The grill was perfect. So was the sink.
“I can make this work,” she said. Yes, she could. “I want this truck.” No, she needed this truck like a fish needed water.
“It looks dumpy. We absolutely have to paint it,” Courtney said.
“Can I help?” Emma asked, forgetting she was mad at Courtney.
“Absolutely,” Courtney answered for Annie.
They stepped back outside to find the two men poking around the engine. Please don’t find anything wrong with it.
Seth went from the engine to looking around underneath the truck. Then he came back out from under it and he and Joe stood and talked another five minutes.
“The suspense is killing me,” Courtney said to Annie.
Finally, Seth strolled over to them and nodded. “Spark plugs need cleaning, got a frayed wire connecting the battery to the starter, but those are nothing. I’ve got a friend who can help with that. You’ll need new tires.”
“And a paint job,” added one-note Courtney.
“If you were me, would you buy it?”
“I’m not you,” he said. “I can tell you, though, owning your own business is a lot of work.”
He knew whereof he spoke. Seth owned a mold removal business and spent his days removing rust and mold from houses and business buildings around town.
“I’m not afraid of work,” she said.
“No, I guess you’re not. Then buy it.”
That cinched it. She got out her business checkbook and took the first step toward making her dream come true.
* * *
“My friend Devlin wants to come down tomorrow and bring his daughter,” Pearl said to Moira. “She wants me to cut her hair.” She might as well have added, I hope I get an A on the test.
Moira knew that Pearl and her friend were now talking on the phone every day, and Pearl’s Saturdays were rapidly getting booked with a lot more than Waves clients.
“She’s going to love you,” Moira predicted.
“I hope so. I hope she’s not one of those possessive women who doesn’t want to see her dad with anyone.”
“If she is, you’ll change her mind.”
Moira had yet to see the mysterious Devlin in person and was anxious to meet him, along with the daughter, who had Pearl more nervous than a mouse in a cage filled with mousetraps.
The following day Pearl came into the salon wearing slacks and a modest white blouse accented with a gold necklace and simple earrings. Classy and conservative—trying to make a good impression on the daughter. As if Pearl simply being her kind and generous self wouldn’t make a good impression on anyone.
Promptly at two in the afternoon, a large man with faded red hair walked into the salon. He wore jeans and a shirt rolled up at the sleeves and looked like what he was: an older man aging well. With him came a slender woman with the same large eyes and hair still a vibrant red. It hung to her shoulders and probably didn’t need more than a trim. So maybe this was a test. Or simply an excuse to meet the other woman in Dad’s life.
Moira was giving Jo the Cheapo a haircut so she forced herself to pay attention to what she was doing. But Jo had no problem watching the newcomers.
“Who’s that?” she whispered to Moira.
“New customer, I guess,” Moira replied. If Pearl wasn’t inclined to talk about the man in her life, Moira sure wasn’t going to.
“This is my daughter, Molly,” Devlin was saying.
Molly said hello to Pearl, a reserved hello.
“Your father’s told me so much about you,” Pearl almost gushed.
Moira gave her a psychic nudge. Play it cool.
“Really?” The daughter sounded as if Pearl had just shared some suspicious information.
“He tells me you have your own consulting business.”
“I do. It’s hard to get away.”
“I hope we can make it worth your while,” Pearl said.
“Daddy wanted me to meet you.” Molly looked around the salon. “This is cute.”
An observation more than a compliment. Moira tried to think of a descriptive word for this woman. Aloof came to mind. Or maybe just territorial.
“Did you want a haircut?” Pearl offered. The woman almost pulled back. A miscommunication there. She was obviously proud of her long hair.
“I guess I was wrong about that,” said her father.
“I tell you what, then. Why don’t we go on over to my house? I’ve made some clam dip I think you’ll both enjoy,” said Pearl.
Molly of the long red hair nodded and so did her father.
“Moira, will you close up for me?” Pearl called.
“Of course. Anything for you,” Moira added in an attempt to let the woman know how deserving of loyalty her boss was.
As soon as they’d left, Jo asked, “Is Pearl dating?” Fortunately for Moira, she didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, good for her. It’s about time she got a life.”
* * *
As Pearl ushered her company into her house, she tried to see it from Molly’s perspective. Relatively small, dated kitchen cabinets and counter. But decorated nicely, surely that had to count for something.
“Sit down,” Pearl said, gesturing toward the living room. “Make yourselves at home.”
They settled into matching armchairs. The arms were a little faded with wear. Pearl vowed to put her charge card to use and replace them.
“Have you visited Moonlight Harbor before?” she asked Molly.
“Of course,” Molly said as if Pearl had just asked the stupidest question ever.
“We came down to see Donnie and Arlene a lot over the years,” Devlin added.
“I don’t have time now,” Molly continued. “Between the kids and my business, I’m too busy.” As if to prove it, she checked her cell phone.
“Of course,” Pearl said politely.
“She’s almost too busy for her old man,” said Devlin.
“Oh, Daddy, I’m never too busy for you,” his daughter insisted.
Pearl handed them both glasses of iced tea, then returned to the kitchen for clam dip and crackers.
She was on her way back to the living room bearing a tray with plates and napkins, crackers and dip when Pumpkin put in an appearance. The greeting committee.
Pumpkin sauntered up to Molly and tried to rub against her leg, but Molly used that leg to nudge Pumpkin away. “I’m allergic to cats.”
“Oh, sorry,” Pearl said. She set the dip on the coffee table and hurried to pick up Pumpkin the Allergen.
“I wish I could have one, though,” Molly added. Sharing a little about herself. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Do you have pets?” Pearl asked.
“We’ve got a Labradoodle. Pixie.”
“Cute name,” Pearl said and Devlin’s daughter offered the beginnings of a smile.
“Would you like to try this clam dip?”
“I’m not much into clams,” Molly said.
“You used to like them when you were a kid. Give it a try,” coaxed her father, and Pearl wondered if he was talking about more than clams.
She took a plate, put a cracker on it and a microscopic dab of dip, then raised it to her mouth. She wore the same expression Pearl’s daughter used to wear when Pearl insisted she try some new food she didn’t want to eat. Suddenly Pearl found herself tearing up.
Devlin saw it. “What’s wrong?”
Pearl shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “You reminded me of my daughter just now.”
“Your daughter?” Molly asked, setting the cracker back down. “Daddy didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”
“I lost her a few years back. She died of an aneurysm.”
Here was the way to have a cheerful get-to-know-you chat. Except now Pearl didn’t feel like being cheerful or chatting.
“I’m so sorry,” Molly said earnestly.
“I didn’t know,” Devlin added, sounding shocked.
Of course he didn’t know. Their friendship was still new. He’d shared about losing his wife and she’d shared about losing her husband, of course, but she hadn’t felt comfortable laying out the rest of her losses. Not when she was beginning to move on into a happier frame of mind. She’d had no desire to smother something good with that heavy dark blanket.
“This is life,” she said with her usual attempt to be philosophical. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Of course you should have,” Molly said. “It’s hard losing someone you loved. I still miss my mom.”
Now her eyes were full of tears, too, and so were her dad’s. This was not going to go down as a good first meeting.
“I still miss her every day,” Molly said in a small voice.
“Of course you do,” said Pearl.
“No one will ever take her place.” It hadn’t been said as a warning, only a simple statement of fact.
Pearl had no intention of taking anyone’s place and was about to say so when Molly checked her phone. “I need to get back.”
“We just got here,” Devlin protested.
“I know. But it looks like Jimmy’s ride to the game tonight fell through and he’s pitching.”
“I thought Carl was taking him.”
“He’s got to work late.”
Had a text just come through? Pearl hadn’t heard a ding to signal a notification. Maybe something had, though. Or maybe Molly was making it up.
She stood, announcing an end to all strategizing. “Thanks for having us over,” she said to Pearl. “I’m sorry I’ve got to go.”
Pearl doubted it.
So did her dad. “Me, too,” he said, his lips pulled down.
“I hope you’ll come again,” Pearl said to Molly. “Maybe you can bring your kids.”
“Thanks,” Molly said, then, looking self-conscious, she scooted for the door.
