Chapter 10
10
ENNIO
H mm, something was missing. I took another spoonful of the mushroom sauce I was making in my kitchen, a test before I’d put it on the menu at The Lodge. It had that earthy mushroom taste, a hint of roasted garlic, some herbed de Provence, enough salt and pepper, and that round, full sensation only cream could give. So what was missing?
I closed my eyes as I let the taste roll around in my mouth, lingering on my tongue. It was too round. It needed a touch of acid. Some lemon juice should do the trick.
This was my favorite part of being a chef: developing new menu items. I was always off on Mondays and I loved spending some lazy time in my own kitchen those days, playing around with ideas for recipes and trying out new things.
Marnin had left for Seattle after breakfast the day before. Despite the circumstances, I’d liked having him here. It didn’t have overnight guests often or someone to cook for and eat breakfast with.
But I was alone once more, so I’d set out to try another version of a new mushroom sauce I’d been playing around with. The silence had been a little too loud after Marnin’s departure, so I’d connected my phone to my Sonos speakers, which were now blasting Taylor Swift’s latest album. God, I loved that woman.
I’d just added a spritz of fresh lemon juice when my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Marnin.
Got a urologist appointment this Friday. Wish me luck.
I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel, then quickly thumbed out my reply.
What time? I’m coming with you.
I braced myself for his inevitable protest—which I was going to ignore. Marnin needed support, needed someone who cared, and there wasn’t a force in Forestville that could stop me from being that someone.
Seriously?
His reply came back quick, the words tinged with surprise, maybe even disbelief. I could almost hear the sarcasm in his voice, an affectionate undertone warming the usual bite.
Dead serious
OK. My appt is at 11.
It’s settled then. I’ll see you Friday. I’ll be there around 9.
Thank you. It’s not needed, but thank you.
Well, that had been easier than expected, but I wasn’t done yet. And this second battle wasn’t gonna be pretty. I took a deep breath and told Siri to call The Lodge, Mrs. Coombe’s reign of terror over every employee’s schedule looming over me like the ever-present mountains surrounding our little town.
“Mrs. Coombe, it’s Ennio,” I said, my voice steady despite the nervous lump in my stomach. “I need to take this Friday off. I have to accompany a friend to a medical appointment.”
“Ennio, we’re booked solid. You know we can’t?—”
“Sorry, but it’s nonnegotiable.” My heart raced, but my voice was firm, assertive. This was for Marnin, for that gruff man who’d always been my brother’s best friend but was now somehow becoming my friend too.
There was a pause on the other end—a crackling void filled with her unspoken objections. But I stood my ground. I rarely asked for days off, especially on such short notice, so she’d have to accommodate me.
“Ennio, you can’t take a day off on a whim. You know we have that large party coming on Friday night. Your personal life cannot interfere with your work here.” Her voice was steel wrapped in velvet, but I wasn’t about to let her dictate this part of my life.
“Actually, it can, and it will. I’ve covered shifts for others before when they had personal emergencies. There has to be some give and take. You know I rarely take time off.”
She huffed. “Your timing is not smart, what with us about to finalize the sale of The Lodge.”
My stomach dropped. “It’s sold?”
“The couple buying it are visiting again this weekend to finalize the details. I’d hate to have to tell them I can’t in full conscience recommend they keep you on as chef.”
That vicious, backstabbing… “You’d honestly do that over one day off?”
“They’d need someone reliable, won’t they?”
I gritted my teeth, my patience fraying like worn fabric. “When have I ever been unreliable? In the eleven years I’ve worked for you, I’ve always taken shifts from others when needed and have rarely asked them to do the same. A quick check in your system will show I have over fifty unused vacation days I am legally allowed to take. I’m incredibly disappointed in your attitude, Mrs. Coombe, and if the new owners treat me the same, I’m not sure I’d even want to work there. Anyway, I’m not coming in on Friday. And come to think of it, I think I’ll take the whole weekend off. Have a nice day.”
My hands shook as I ended the call, but I’d never been prouder of myself. It was about time I stood up to her. That woman really thought she could just run roughshod over me. Well, she was wrong. I had promised Marnin I would be there, and come hell or high water, I would keep that promise. Mrs. Coombe could go fuck herself.
As I returned to my mushroom sauce, the call with her kept playing through my head. Where did she get the nerve to call me unreliable? And threatening to badmouth me to the new owners… What a bitch. She was dealing with emotional and mental upheaval, I knew that, but that was no excuse to behave like this.
Maybe I should see it as a sign that my days in Forestville were coming to an end. If the new owners didn’t want to keep me on, my chances of finding another job in the area were slim. Forestville had Eddie’s Drive-In—which was not a drive-in at all—and the Double F offered food, but that was it. And surroundings towns offered few possible employers for me as well. Small towns could only sustain so many restaurants.
I’d have to try my luck in Seattle, where it would be much easier. But was I ready to leave my peaceful life here behind?
I tasted the mushroom sauce again. Yup, that bit of lemon juice had done the trick, and I noted that on the recipe. There, done. I turned off the heat and poured the sauce into a glass container. I’d let it cool for fifteen minutes or so and then put it in the fridge. It would be perfect to take to dinner with my parents the next day and serve it with fresh pasta.
That done, I leaned against the counter. On impulse, I grabbed my phone again and hit the dial button for Marnin.
“Hey, what’s up?” Marnin’s voice, always so sharp and direct, cut through the static of my thoughts.
“I had it out with Mrs. Coombe over needing to take Friday off.”
“Tell me she didn’t try to chain you to the radiator.”
“Ha, might as well have.” I paced the length of my tiny kitchen. “She called me unreliable, then threatened to badmouth me to the new owners, so I told her where she could stick her job.”
There was a pause, the kind that stretched, filled with Marnin’s analytical processing. “Good for you. You don’t need that kind of bullshit. Setting boundaries is important.”
His words were like a balm, soothing the raw edges of my anger. “You don’t think that was stupid? I mean, if she fires me, I’ll have nothing.”
Literally nothing, considering my savings were gone, but I didn’t say that. There was no need for Marnin to know about that. Telling Auden had been enough torture, though he’d been nice about it.
“No, it was the right call. She’ll walk all over you if you don’t set firm boundaries. For her to threaten to talk negatively about you to the new owners was a new low. Though I didn’t know The Lodge had been sold officially.”
“It’s not official yet. She said they’re coming in this weekend to finalize things. It’s a couple, by the way.”
“They’re planning on keeping it a hotel?”
I’d finally stopped pacing, that flare of anger at Mrs. Coombe seeping out of me. “I don’t know for sure, but if they’re interested in keeping on staff, they’d have to, right? What else would they need staff for? We’re usually booked solid, so financially, it has to be a good investment.”
“Hmm, maybe. I’d have to see the books first. Not sure if they’ve been operating at a big enough profit.”
And that was why I was so hesitant to be a business owner. I didn’t have a head for those kinds of considerations and calculations. “That’s outside my wheelhouse, but I suppose you’re right. The main point for me is that my job isn’t secure, and that’s a little scary, not gonna lie.”
“You’ll be fine, Ennio. With your resume and experience, you’ll find something else in no time. I know Forestville is your home, but Seattle’s got plenty of opportunities if needed. You won’t be on the streets.”
I sat in my favorite chair and curled my legs up. “Maybe it’s time to move there anyway. Forestville might just be getting too small for me, both for work and for…love. Or even sex.”
Marnin chuckled. “You don’t need to convince me, darling. I love visiting, but I’m always happy to see the town disappear in my rearview mirror again.”
“I’m not quite there yet, but we’ll see what happens. I took the whole weekend off, by the way. Not just Friday. Guess I was feeling a little rebellious or even vindictive after her reaction.”
“Oh, so you’re staying the whole weekend? That’s no problem at all. You planning on hitting a club again?”
I hadn’t planned to stay with Marnin for the entire weekend, but he didn’t sound upset about the idea. In fact, he seemed almost…happy? No idea why, but I wasn’t gonna say no to that opportunity. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“No.” His answer came fast. “It’ll be…good to have you.”
“Okay.”
“Really good.”
His tone struck a deep chord inside me. Marnin, the man who prided himself on casual connections and maintained an emotional fortress, sounded almost…vulnerable.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll see you Friday.”
“See you then.”
He ended the call, and I stood there with my phone in my hand.
Marnin had always seemed like an island to me—self-sufficient, impenetrable. Yet his eagerness, that rare display of warmth when I told him I’d stay the weekend, cracked his facade, revealing a solitary figure on that island. It hit me how much he must crave company, connection…
“God,” I muttered. The insight struck me like lightning. “He’s lonely.”
How had I never seen this before? He’d kept up such a good front with his sarcastic wit, always deflecting whenever things got too close. But underneath, he was hurting. He was as alone as I was.
The realization had me sink slowly into a chair. “I’ll be goddamned.”
Marnin Rosser was lonely. He actually wanted my company.
Sure, maybe it was born out of desperation, fueled by his panic over whatever medical issues were plaguing him. A confrontation with one’s mortality made one reevaluate life choices, I guessed. He was certainly the right age for a good midlife crisis—though I’d never be stupid enough to say that to his face.
But it felt like more than that. If it had merely been the company he needed, he could’ve chosen to spend another weekend with any of his friends here in Forestville. He could’ve called my brother, for example, and asked to meet up.
But he hadn’t. He’d asked me… Well, technically, he hadn’t asked me. He’d wrongly assumed I wanted to spend the weekend with him, but he’d been happy about it. He’d said it would be really good to have me.
Really good.
He’d started by saying good and had then amended that to really good , as if good hadn’t been a strong enough description. That meant he was truly happy to have me, right? Or was I now reading too much into it? Ugh, leave it to me to overthink two words.
I’d have to pay attention to his reactions this weekend. The man was a master at hiding his emotions, but maybe now that I’d seen a crack in his facade, I’d be able to peer behind his proverbial curtains and see more of the real Marnin?
I couldn’t wait.