Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
O liver Laurier took a deep breath, standing at the entrance of the Key Lime Garden Inn. He was a striking figure, tall with sandy-brown hair that fell just above the chin, and expressive hazel eyes that held a hint of sadness.
Running his hand through his hair, he repeated the same words he’d said to himself on the drive to the Key Lime Garden Inn.
You’ve got this.
He’d taken a few minutes before his interview to walk around the property and look over the vegetable and flower gardens. No one seemed to notice him as he admired the soft pastel colors of the building which contrasted beautifully with the lush greenery. A faint scent of citrus hung in the air and for a moment he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, facing the sun. His mind began to imagine the meals he could create with the abundant and freshest vegetables outside the inn’s kitchen.
When he was ready, he straightened his collar, trying to shake off the nerves that had settled in his stomach, and walked to the front of the building. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a woman with a warm smile.
“You must be Oliver,” she said.
“Yes, that’s right. Oliver Laurier,” he replied, extending his hand.
“Riley Cuthbert,” she introduced herself, shaking his hand firmly. “Come on in.”
Oliver stepped inside, taking in the cozy charm of the inn’s interior. The living room was inviting, with soft furniture and a welcoming ambiance. A Christmas tree in the corner of the room reminded him of a time, not that long ago, when he was happy. He quickly looked away, refusing to go there in his mind.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee?” Riley asked over her shoulder.
“Water would be great, thank you,” Oliver replied, his mouth dry from anxiety.
Riley nodded and motioned for him to take a seat in the front room. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
He settled into a plush sofa, feeling the softness envelop him. Glancing around the room, he noted the tasteful decor and the personal touches that made the inn feel more like a home than a hotel. He’d done extensive research on the place, its history, and the previous and current owners. He needed every bit of information he could gather to ensure his new life would be stress-free and perfect for the solitude he craved.
Riley returned with a glass of water, handing it to him with a smile.
“Here you go. Maggie should be here any minute,” she said, taking a seat across from him.
“Thanks,” Oliver said, taking a sip.
Before Riley could respond, another door opened and Maggie Moretti came into the room. He’d already seen her picture online, but it didn’t do her justice. She was a petite woman with an air of confidence and kindness, something he’d hoped to find in his new boss.
“Mr. Laurier, welcome to the Key Lime Garden Inn. I’m Maggie Moretti.”
Oliver stood and shook her hand, returning the smile.
“Please call me Oliver.”
“Of course, Oliver. Please, have a seat. I hope Riley has been keeping you company.”
Riley chuckled. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk before you arrived.”
“Oh, well, I guess that’s a good thing. I’d hate to have you repeat everything over again.”
Just then, Iris entered the room. “Sorry, I’m late! Got caught up in the kitchen.”
“Oliver, this is Iris Bowman. She’ll be staying on when Riley leaves. Iris, this is Oliver Laurier, our potential new chef.”
Iris extended her hand with a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you, Oliver. Sorry about the chaos. It gets a bit hectic sometimes.”
Oliver shook her hand, returning the smile. “Nice to meet you too. No problem at all. I’ve been in plenty of hectic kitchens.”
Maggie continued her interview.
“Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself. What brings you to Captiva Island?”
Oliver took a deep breath, keeping his tone steady.
“I’ve spent most of my career in bustling cities, always on the move. After a while, it gets tiring. I needed a change, something slower and more peaceful. I discovered Captiva Island during a vacation a few years ago and fell in love with it. When I saw the opportunity to work here, I knew it was the right move.”
Maggie nodded. “It’s certainly a beautiful place to settle down. But I noticed there’s a gap in your employment history. You haven’t worked in over a year. Can you tell us why?”
Oliver’s heart quickened, but he kept his expression neutral. “I had some personal matters to attend to. It was a challenging time, but I’m ready to get back to work now.”
Riley and Maggie exchanged a glance, and Oliver noticed. He didn’t add anything more to his statement, figuring there was no reason to divulge so much to complete strangers.
“We’re not trying to pry, Oliver. We just want to make sure you’re ready for this position. Running the kitchen here is demanding, even if the pace is slower.”
Oliver met her gaze, his voice steady.
“I understand, and I appreciate your concern. I’m ready. Cooking has always been my passion, and I’m excited about the opportunity to bring something to this inn.”
Maggie smiled, seeming satisfied with his answer.
“That’s what we like to hear. What kind of cuisine do you specialize in?”
“I’ve dabbled in a bit of everything over the years, from French to Italian, even some experimental fusion. But what I love most is using fresh, local ingredients to create something unique and memorable.”
Maggie nodded, her eyes lighting up.
“That’s exactly the kind of creativity we need here. We pride ourselves on offering our guests something special, something they can’t find anywhere else.
Iris chimed in. “The island has some great local produce and seafood. It’s a chef’s dream.”
Oliver smiled, feeling a spark of excitement. “I look forward to exploring that. There’s something special about creating a dish that reflects the place it comes from.”
Iris leaned forward, her curiosity evident. “Oliver, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your approach to handling a busy kitchen? We have our fair share of rushes, especially during tourist season.”
“Communication is key. I believe in clear, concise instructions and fostering a team environment where everyone feels responsible for the success of the meal service. It helps keep things running smoothly, even when it gets hectic.”
Iris nodded. “I agree, communication is everything.”
Oliver could see that although it was Maggie and Riley who were most in control of the interview, he noted that Iris was given as much time as possible to ask questions. He could see himself working alongside Iris Bowman, and hoped she felt the same.
Maggie leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“You mentioned wanting a quieter life. What else drew you to Captiva?”
Oliver paused, carefully choosing his words.
“I’m renting a small bungalow on the beach. It’s a simple place, but it’s perfect for me. I wanted to live somewhere where I could enjoy the little things—morning walks on the beach, watching the sunset, things I never had time for before. It’s a rent-to-own situation. I know the owner.”
“Well, if it’s quiet you want, you’ve come to the right place,” Maggie said, and then suddenly realized where Oliver was living. “Are you renting the Gately cottage? I know Frank Gately. He was one of the few people who welcomed me to Captiva when I arrived four years ago. I know exactly which house you’re renting,” Maggie added.
Oliver nodded. “Yes, he’s moved in with his daughter in Naples because of his health. He’s been welcoming and supportive in helping me get acclimated.”
Riley nodded. “I heard his health wasn’t great. I guess it’s worse than we thought if he’s selling.”
Maggie nodded. “You might be right.”
Maggie turned back to Oliver. “Would you be willing to create an entree or two for us? It might be an unconventional way to interview, but I think it would help us all see how you work in the kitchen.”
“Absolutely, and it’s not unconventional at all. I’ve done it in other interviews. Should we get started now?”
Iris beamed with anticipation. “I’d love that, if you could stay for a bit.”
Oliver nodded. “Just point me to the kitchen, and I’m ready to go.”
For the first time in over a year, Oliver felt a surge of excitement to demonstrate his culinary talents. Maggie’s request for him to cook on the spot was the clearest sign that he might truly have a chance at this job.
What Maggie Moretti couldn’t know was that she’d given him a sense of purpose that had been missing for so long. A purpose as simple as having a reason to get out of bed in the morning and put one foot in front of the other.
He accepted that it might take a while before he could stop thinking of himself as walking wounded—alive, but not really living. For now, he would focus on the work and his new friends at the Key Lime Garden Inn. Life beyond that was impossible to imagine, so he didn’t try.
The sun was high in the sky the next morning as Maggie and Chelsea stood on the inn’s front porch, waiting for Sarah. The air was crisp, and the scent of saltwater mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Maggie sipped her coffee and thought about how she would tell her daughter and her best friend about the lump. She took Paolo’s advice and decided that while they were having lunch, she’d tell them at the same time.
“These to-go cups are the best thing you’ve ever purchased,” Chelsea said, and then took another bite of the blueberry walnut scone.
“I know. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about stopping for a coffee while I’m out doing errands. I can’t believe how much they want for a cup of coffee these days.”
“Well, I’m grateful to get mine from you, because that way, I get to steal a scone or two.”
Maggie laughed. “Why are you always hungry?”
Chelsea shrugged. “What can I say? High metabolism, I guess. Speaking of food, how was your interview with Oliver Laurier?”
“Oh my goodness, Chelsea, the interview went well, and at the last minute, I had the crazy idea to have him give us a sampling of his cooking. You wouldn’t believe the dish he made. He went to the refrigerator and then looked in all our cabinets and drawers, and then went to work. Riley, Iris and I sat there and watched him move around the kitchen with such precision. It was like watching a choreographed dance. He didn’t miss a beat.”
“What did he prepare?” Chelsea asked, practically drooling.
“He made Cornish game hens with garlic and rosemary that were to die for. We all ate every last bit. There wasn’t even a crumb left on our plates. I swear I almost licked my plate.”
“That would have impressed him, not to mention how classy you’d look,” Chelsea teased. “So, did he get the job?”
Maggie shrugged. “I haven’t hired him yet. His cooking and way around the kitchen impressed all of us, but I need to do a bit more research on him and his past.”
“You mean a background check?”
“Is that so bad?”
Chelsea shook her head. “Not at all. I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, let’s face it, Maggie. Between the two of us, you’ve always been the nice one. You don’t know how to internet stalk like I do.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t call it that. It’s not stalking. I’m a potential employer and I need to make sure I’m not hiring a mass murderer.”
Chelsea nodded. “Thank you for that. Captiva doesn’t need another criminal showing up like Kristin’s ex-husband. I don’t think any of us want to see that drama again.”
Sarah’s car pulled into the driveway right on time. She stepped out, looking bright and cheerful.
"Good morning! Ready for our shopping adventure?"
"Absolutely," Chelsea replied, giving Maggie a playful nudge. "Let’s get this show on the road."
“Oh, by the way, you both will be happy to hear that Linda St. James is away visiting her aunt in Georgia. She’ll be gone for two weeks.”
“How did you find that out?” Maggie asked.
“Trevor told me; his sister Jacqui told him. Since Jacqui rents in Linda’s building, she was given the keys to her place so she can water Linda’s plants.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “You know what that means? It means if we join Claire’s book club after all these months of us putting Linda off about starting a club, she’ll accuse us of doing it behind her back.”
“Who cares?” Chelsea insisted. “We’re grown women who can do what we want. We don’t need Linda’s approval. As a matter of fact, I’m liking the idea of joining Claire’s book club even more now that I know it will make Linda mad.”
Maggie and Sarah laughed at Chelsea’s typical response to Linda’s temper tantrums. Linda was known to be inflexible and downright controlling about many of the island’s Town Hall projects. She didn’t seem to care or even realize how pushy she’d become over the years.
“Let’s not talk about Linda St. James. I want to enjoy the day,” Chelsea added.
They all piled into Sarah’s car, and soon drove through the scenic roads of Captiva Island, chatting excitedly about everything under the Captiva sun.
Uncertain who might cry first, Maggie wanted to wait until they were in public at lunch. She looked at her watch and wondered how she’d be able to keep such important news to herself for several more hours.
She distracted herself by looking out the window for the best shops to buy Christmas presents but the more Sarah and Chelsea talked, the harder it was for Maggie to stay quiet.
“Sarah, pull into this next parking lot,” Maggie said.
“What? I thought we’d all drive to the Miramar Mall on Corkscrew. There are plenty of great stores there. I don’t think we’ll find what we want here on the island, Mom. Besides, we can always check the shops on Periwinkle on our way back.”
“I know, pull in anyway.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Chelsea asked.
Sarah drove her car into the next parking lot and parked the car in front of a closed seafood restaurant.
“I’m sorry to do this now, but I won’t be able to focus on anything else, if I don’t.”
“Mom, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
Maggie sighed. “I found another lump. It’s under my right armpit, and I’ve already left a message for my doctor to call me when he can.”
No one said anything for several seconds, and Maggie turned her wedding ring around several times, unable to look at either of them. Finally, Chelsea broke the silence. “It might be nothing, Maggie. Let’s not assume the worst.”
Sarah leaned over and hugged her. “Whatever it is, we’ll get it out just like we did the first time. It’s good you found it. Don’t worry, Mom, everything is going to be all right.”
Maggie was stunned. In the blink of an eye, her daughter had taken the role of mother while she felt as vulnerable as a child.
She looked at Sarah with new eyes and felt so much love for her daughter.
Maggie pushed a strand of Sarah’s hair off her face and behind her ear and marveled at how special she was.
“You’re beautiful, do you know that? When did you get to be so beautiful?”
Sarah smiled.
“I have too many freckles, and I think that’s your fault.”
Maggie laughed at that, and shortly after, Chelsea and Sarah joined in. Before long, the three women were laughing so hard they were crying.
Maggie took a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.
“I didn’t want to say anything until after Christmas, but Paolo insisted.”
“And he was right to do so,” Chelsea added. “You shouldn’t go through this without the support of your family and friends.”
Maggie nodded. “I have to admit, I feel a little better for having told you. I know it’s going to be hard if it turns out to be cancer. I have moments when I feel I can’t go through this again. I might as well warn you that if that happens again, and I’m sure it will, I’m going to lean on you all for support and encouragement to keep fighting.”
“When do you think the doctor will call back?” Sarah asked.
Maggie shook her head. “I have no idea. The worst part is that it’s right before Christmas. We’ve got so much going on, I can’t afford to spend time at the hospital.”
“Mom, forget about that. You can’t afford not to get to the doctor. This is just one Christmas, there will be plenty more to look forward to. We’ll be right beside you, Mom, don’t worry.
Maggie smiled and tapped Sarah’s hand. “I know you will. Now that I got that off my chest, how about we go spend some money?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Chelsea added as she squeezed Maggie’s shoulder. “Let’s go spoil those grandkids of yours.”