“So Fat Larry will lose you soon?”
Annie laughed. “I’m afraid so.”
“But you’re off all summer from school. Does that mean you could work here full time?”
“Full-time? Oh, that would be great.”
“Good. Because Fat Larry needs an office manager.”
“Office manager? Really? Then what will you do?” Annie asked innocently.
Jordan laughed. “Supervise, of course.”
Chapter Four
Jordan walked through the busy restaurant and into the kitchen, the smell of fried seafood bringing back delicious memories. Her father was dressed in his whites, chef’s hat and all, as he battered fish. Her mother ran the ordering system, juggling in-house orders with those placed online. She still couldn’t believe Matt had talked them into that but apparently it was working.
“Busy tonight, huh?” she said as she gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Yes, Friday nights are always like this.” She eyed her. “You had a busy day yourself?”
“Yeah. Got to visit with Annie Thomas. She’s nice. I’m going to hire her full time for the summer.”
“You are? But—”
“Let me run the store, Mom. You have your hands full here.”
“I know, I know,” she said. “Are you hungry? Did you come for dinner?”
Jordan smiled. “I placed an order online.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “You did?”
Jordan pulled her phone out of her pocket, looking at the time. “Supposed to be ready in ten minutes.”
Her mother nodded. “So? Maria went by Pelican’s Landing?”
“Yes. She had another woman with her. It only took them three hours to clean the place. You won’t recognize it,” she said.
“And Matt’s things?”
“I’ve got everything boxed up,” she said. “There wasn’t that much there. And I’ve already taken his clothes.” She saw the sadness in her mother’s eyes. “Keeping his clothes, Mom, didn’t make sense.”
“I thought we would wait—”
“Not for the clothes,” she said. “Someone will get use out of them.”
“I know you’re right, Jordan. But giving away his things, well, it—”
“Makes it final?” she guessed.
Her mother nodded. “And makes it real.”
“I know,” she said gently. “I’m sorry.”
“We should have taken more time,” her mother said. “But your father, well, being here at the restaurant makes everything seem…somewhat normal.”
“And that’s what you need,” she said. “Matt wouldn’t want you sitting at home grieving, you know that.”
“Well, being here keeps my mind occupied, at least.”
“Yes. Now, I’m starving.” She looked around, seeing a take-out box being stuffed with fish and shrimp. “I think that’s mine.”
Her mother bagged it for her, then added two tubs of tartar sauce. Jordan smiled, glad her mother remembered that she loved the stuff. She also noted that she omitted the cabbage slaw, something Jordan hated.
“So you’re staying there tonight? Not at the house?”
“Yeah, I’m going to stay there. I already have my things in the car.” She met her mother’s gaze. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Of course. We liked having you at the house, though.”
“Yes, it was nice. But…you know, I’m used to being alone.”
“I know you are. Will we still see you every day? Do you need some help with the store?”
“It’s under control. Annie’s going to keep it running pretty much like Matt did. There are only a couple of things I’m going to change,” she said. “And yes, you’ll still see me every day.”
Her mother’s eyes sharpened. “What are you changing? Matt knew—”
“Nothing major, Mom. Logging in timesheets, mainly. Matt was very lax. They’re paid hourly. I’m going to install a punch clock,” she said.
“That’s kinda old-fashioned, isn’t it?”
Jordan laughed. “It’s sort of a virtual one. It’s on the computer. It’s an add-on to QuickBooks. It’ll make payroll easier too.”
“Do you know how to do all of that?”
“Yes. Now don’t worry about the store.” She took the bag, already imagining biting into her father’s famous battered fish. “Let me get out of your hair. You’re too busy to be chatting.” She kissed her mother’s cheek again, then snuck around the fry station to do the same to her father. “Dad, thanks for dinner.”
“I made the fish extra spicy, like you like it.”
“Great. I’m sure it’ll be perfect. See you later.”
Of course, she didn’t make it back to Pelican’s Landing before sneaking a nibble of the fish. As promised, spicy. There were five fillets and at least a dozen jumbo shrimp. She would have enough left over for lunch tomorrow. At least she hoped so as she ate her third shrimp.
The beach house seemed almost empty with all of Matt’s clutter—mess—gone. A lot of the things left in the house were from her grandparents. Like the collection of conch shells which, as a child, she used to love to play with. These weren’t bought in a treasure shop, though. No, these were all found on the beach. Her grandmother had been a beachcomber. Not that you could find much here along the bay. Her grandmother, twice a week, would drive to the ferry and go across to Port Aransas, hitting the beach before sunrise.
On her way to the kitchen, she paused to glance at the shelf that held small baskets of sand dollars and smaller shells. She’d been with her grandmother when they’d found a lot of those. She’d always been close to her. That was yet another regret she had. By staying away, she missed out on her grandmother’s last years. Years she could never get back. Same with Matt. The years passed them by so rapidly, she hardly noticed. With a sigh, she pushed the guilt away.
Matt had a nice collection of wine, all red. She chose a bottle and opened it, then poured a generous amount into a glass. She took that, along with her food, out to the deck. The sun had set, but there was still a little color left in the sky. The early evening breeze was pleasant, and she didn’t bother with the ceiling fan. She opened up her box and grabbed a piece of fish with her fingers, plunging it into the tub of tartar sauce.
“So good,” she murmured around the bite.
She leaned back, sipping from her wine. This, she was used to. Being alone, having dinner alone. The view from her condo couldn’t compete with this, however. Pink and red still shimmered on the water, and she watched as a fishing boat cruised out in the bay, heading back to the marina in Fulton or maybe Rockport. A quiet peacefulness settled over her, and she wondered how long she’d be content to stay here, so far away from the big city rush that was her life. Could she endure three, four months of this? Would her job wait for her? Peter had told her to take as much time as she needed. Her position in the company afforded her that, at least. She hadn’t worked her ass off for nothing. But still, she had responsibilities there. Of course, she had responsibilities here too, she reminded herself. She’d neglected her family for far too many years. Her parents needed her now and she intended to honor that obligation.
She dunked another shrimp into the tartar sauce, enjoying the crunch of her father’s secret batter. She wondered if her mother even knew the recipe he used. As darkness settled over the bay, the fish and shrimp she’d intended to save for lunch tomorrow were dwindling fast, as was the wine. One fillet and two shrimp remained. She pushed the box away and emptied the rest of the wine into her glass.
Full darkness now and the breeze off the bay was actually cool. She let her thoughts drift to Fat Larry. Matt had turned the store into a success and she didn’t think she was going to change anything. Well, other than the time-keeping. Matt may have been content to pay them based on what they were supposed to work, but she was not. Tomorrow she would attack his office and try to spend some time with the books. And inventory. Maybe Annie would be able to help with that.