Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
RONIN
Blue Fields’ Summer Seafood Festival—one of my favorite celebrations of the year—is kicking off this weekend, and Double Shot has been prepping for days, our freezer overflowing with crab, salmon, mussels, clams, and every other seasonal fish available.
I’ve been showering twice a day just to make sure I get the smell out of my hair.
I don’t know how Kian does this full-time and never shows up stinking of fish.
The entire town square has been taken over by booths that will offer all sorts of merchandise and foods, from tasting booths to homemade crafts and everything in between.
Just this morning, Mel texted me a photo of her mother’s dining table covered in tiny crocheted sea creatures.
This is the first year Grace will be running her own booth, and Mel has been helping her finish the last batches of little seahorses, crabs, and octopuses.
Through the large front windows of the diner, I catch a glimpse of a team of volunteers busy hanging string lights in the trees and draping colorful streamers around the gazebo.
Another pair of townspeople are constructing a large photo op standee that’s shaped like a giant clam with space in the center for kids to sit for a picture.
Off to the side, there are two more cutouts already standing proud and ready—a matching pair of lobsters with holes cut out in their heads.
Needless to say, the festival is a huge draw for our town. We’ve been swamped with tourists flooding in from all over the country, and today is no different. The dining room is packed full of people, and I can only imagine that the few inns dotted throughout the area are sold out.
William rounds the corner just as I’m finishing up an order at the bar, coming from the hallway that leads to our offices. He spies me behind the counter, his expression grim, and as he makes his way over, my belly immediately drops.
Something is wrong.
“Do you have a moment?” he says as he approaches. “It’s a little urgent.” He nods his head over to the corner, away from the patrons that are seated at the bar.
“Sure,” I reply, tucking the rag I was cleaning with in my back pocket. I follow him over to the corner, apprehension starting to trickle down the back of my neck and spine. My mind scans every possible scenario for what he’s about to say—concern for my grandparents or Mel at the forefront.
When William lifts his head, I find his eyes are rimmed red and glassy. “I’ve got to leave town for a while, Ro. My father had a stroke.” His voice catches on the last word.
My heart plummets. “Oh fuck.”
His chin dips, taking a minute to compose himself before continuing, “It happened just this morning. I got a call from my mother about an hour ago. They don’t know how serious it is yet.
I’m flying to Arizona on a red-eye tonight.
” Will runs a hand over his shaved head, letting it slide down to rest on the side of his neck.
His eyes are wide and helpless as he stares blankly at me, and the motion gives him a childlike essence that absolutely breaks my heart.
“Of course,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you need, man. I’m here. I’ll take care of this place. Don’t worry about it.” I swallow hard at the ball of emotion creeping up my throat. “Just go be with your family for as long as you need to.”
William pulls me in for a half hug, slapping my back a few times before pulling away. “Thanks, man. I know I can count on you. Having you running this place will be one less thing I have to worry about.” He shoots me a tight smile.
“We’ll keep it standing for you.”
He hurries back to his office to gather up his belongings. I give him a solemn nod as he reemerges and heads out the front door.
“Well, shit,” I say to myself, a deep sigh escaping me. Relief at knowing Mel and my grandparents are safe wars inside of me with the deep sorrow I feel for Will and his family.
I mentally go over everything I need to get done now that I’m on my own, and all of the prep that still needs to be done for the festival, dragging my hand through my hair as I think. First things first—I need to call in some help or I’ll never be ready for the weekend.
After a quick text and a short while later, Evan and Kian arrive to help me finish out the night of prep. As we work in silence, my thoughts drift back to William.
I’ve known Will for what feels like my whole life.
He opened the diner when I was just a small kid, barely out of diapers.
He’s always been a pillar of our community—unbreakable and stern at times, but also ready to lend a helping or guiding hand anytime I asked for it.
I’ve always admired his dedication to this place, how hard he worked to get it running on his own, and how successful it’s become over the years.
It pains me to see him so helpless.
If one day I get the honor of buying it from him, I’ll spend the rest of my time here striving to make him proud, to prove to him that the diner is in good hands. Whether I like it or not, now is a chance to show him that I can take care of his baby like it’s my own.
I just hope that his father recovers and it doesn’t come to that.