Chapter 1
1
M arina peered through the door to the sunroom in their beach cottage. Jack sat in front of a large-screen computer with headphones clamped over his ears. She inched closer, curious what he was working on, though trying not to be intrusive.
Her husband didn’t like to share his work until he was ready. He’d once told her, No one wants to see a writer’s first draft. She could understand that.
She made out her grandmother’s name on the screen. Suddenly, the sun slid from behind a cloud, casting her shadow over the monitor’s screen.
“What the—” Jack jerked off his headphones and whirled around, his thick, unruly hair sticking up. He exhaled in relief when he saw her. “I thought you’d left.”
“Forgot my phone. I’m sorry I crept up on you.” Given his former career as a reporter who frequently worked on explosive stories, he could still be on edge. “Is that a new book?”
Letting out a sigh of relief, he waved to the screen. “I’m making notes about things Ginger says before I forget. She had a couple of zingers the other day.”
She smoothed a hand over his shoulder. “We call those Gingerisms. They’re unique.”
“I’ve been trying to piece together a narrative, but her memory shifts.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with concern. “Do you think she might be…”
“Growing senile?” Marina smiled and shook her head at her grandmother’s harmless deceptions. “Her recollections have been changing for decades. My sisters thought she was embellishing stories and simply forgot how she’d told them before. But I don’t think that was it. She has nearly total recall of anything important. Or trivial.”
Jack pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Then why the variation in her recollections?”
“I think she’s simply entertaining us.” Another thought occurred to Marina. “But given Bertrand’s diplomatic career—and her work that we’ve discovered—she might have been protecting us. Or others. You’ll have to ask her sometime.”
“What if I uncover something you don’t want to know about?”
“I doubt you’ll find anything nefarious in her past.”
Jack had been interested in writing a book about Ginger for a long time. Yet, when Marina had first learned about it before they married, she was furious. Now, she was glad Jack was making notes. As for Ginger’s biography, Marina still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.
Marina sensed that Ginger had secrets, even if she never said that. When her grandmother wanted to avoid questions, she could have an airy, glib manner. If people didn’t know Ginger like she and her sisters did, they wouldn’t think anything of it.
Marina had interviewed enough people when reporting the news in San Francisco to learn body language and detect when a subject wasn’t telling the entire truth.
Yet, her grandmother was an expert at concealment; she’d give her that. Marina probably would have missed the clues if she hadn’t been a professional.
Jack tapped a search tab on his screen. “Did Ginger ever mention crediting her accomplishments to others?”
“That might have happened, especially when she was working with men.” Marina thumped his shoulder.
“Hey, I always give credit.”
“I know you do. I’m talking about back then. The norms were different.”
Marina and Kai had recently discovered praise for their grandmother’s work as a cryptologist in old articles online. They’d been surprised, because they knew her as a statistician and math teacher. They thought she loved puzzles, ciphers, and codes simply as hobbies.
That was the way her interest began, Marina suspected. However, it went far beyond that.
Jack leaned in for a kiss, and she relished the touch of his lips.
He groaned with pleasure. “Why don’t you call in sick to the cafe? With the kids out of the house…”
She smiled against his lips. “Hold that thought until later.” A private party had booked her Coral Cafe for an early brunch before the lunch run. She pushed herself from his lap and sashayed out.
Jack chuckled and whistled after her.
Their new marriage was off to a good start. She adored Jack’s son Leo, who would be in middle school next year. Her daughter Heather was living with Ginger in the home she’d had for decades, right next to the cafe. Marina liked being close enough to her grandmother to check on her.
Still, Ginger was nearly as active as she’d always been, even in her eighties. She hiked, practiced yoga, and danced like someone half her age. As for her intellectual stamina, she grew more astute and formidable with age.
Hours later, after the brunch party and a busy lunch run, the crowd at the Coral Cafe had thinned. Only a handful of guests still lingered at tables.
Marina turned to her sous chef. “Cruise, would you take over from here, please.”
The young man with the tattoos and bleached hair wound into a man-bun nodded. “Got it, Chef. Any news on that other food truck?”
“I haven’t heard from the loan officer yet. Shouldn’t be much longer, though. I’ll return later to help with that catering job.”
“You don’t have to,” Cruise said, grinning. “We’ve got this.”
She nodded her approval. “Glad to hear it. Please call me when Kai arrives.” They were planning a video shoot today.
“Sure thing. I’ll clean up the place.”
Cruise oversaw the team she’d trained on the Coral Cafe food truck, which had grown to produce significant revenue. Besides its daytime route, the truck was also booked nearly every weekend for parties and beach weddings.
Marina’s catering business had grown, too. She could breathe easier now that her business had earned plenty of repeat customers and a reputation for excellence. She no longer had to worry about meeting payroll every month. Another food truck would build her business in beach communities south of Summer Beach.
She would have plenty of time to work on that later. For now, the conversations she’d had with Ginger and Jack lingered in her mind.
Her grandmother had casually asked if Jack was busy. Yet, Ginger seldom made small talk without aim.
And Jack still had a keen desire to write her grandmother’s story, whatever that might entail.
A thought occurred to Marina. She might find more family history in her grandfather’s study. He’d also been a force in his lifetime.
Marina glanced at the clock. She had some time before their shoot.
After crossing the short distance from the cafe to Ginger’s cottage, Marina made her way into the study. She opened the door, greeted by the sweet scent of aged pipe tobacco that had permeated the pages of every book and lingered in the air.
She glanced at the yellow manila folders still in his desk drawer but didn’t see anything unusual. At the built-in bookcase, she ran her fingers across the books Bertrand Delavie had written on leadership and diplomacy. Yet, the more stories Marina pieced together, the more she realized that Ginger also had a compelling story.
How many women could say they had once been cryptologists or contributed to the course of history?
Marina wished she knew more of what Ginger had worked on. When asked questions about her past, her grandmother could be vague. Another thought occurred to her. Over the years, Ginger often took trips with friends, though Marina and her sisters had never met them.
Did those people even exist?
Or was Marina imagining things now?
She slid a book from the shelf and opened it. Dust particles rose from yellowed pages brittle with age. She flipped to the back of the book and searched the sources. An author of an article about probabilities jumped out at her.
G.E. Delavie.
Although everyone called her grandmother Ginger, her given name was Grace Ellen. She was born with ginger-colored hair, so the nickname stuck—even among her grandchildren. Marina smiled to herself. She was the one who’d cast aside the grandmother title and called her Ginger like Grandpa did.
Precocious, some probably thought, but what did she know at that age?
Marina reviewed the attribution. Had Ginger written this article, or was this a coincidence? She would research this later.
Her sister Kai appeared in the doorway, a vision in a flowing floral sundress, a lightweight sweater looped around her shoulders, and a large bag on her arm. “Hey, you. Cruise said you’d gone this way. Ready for our filming?”
“You’re early for a change. I just needed a break.”
Kai sauntered toward her. “So you decided to spend it here looking at dusty old books when you have a sunny beach a few steps away?”
“I’ve been thinking about all Ginger has done in her life.” She showed her sister the book she was looking at. “Check this out. G. E. Delavie .”
“Is that a relative?”
“I think it’s Ginger. Her name is Grace Ellen, remember? I’m going to ask her about that article.”
Kai smoothed a hand over her rounded abdomen in thought. “She’s always downplayed her accomplishments.”
“Yet she’s always been confident about her abilities.” One of their grandmother’s favorite sayings was, Let’s get on with it . To her, there was always another mountain to climb, another goal to reach and surpass. Marina suspected her impacts had likely been more significant than any of them knew.
Marina watched Kai’s motions. “How’s the baby today?”
“Practicing kickboxing,” she replied. “Brooke’s baby is chill, but this one has plenty of energy. I’ll have to stay in shape to keep up with it.”
Marina grinned, thinking of when she was pregnant with her twins. Her younger sisters were expecting their babies only a few weeks apart—Kai with her first and Brooke with her fourth.
Leaning against the desk, Marina asked, “Remember that article we saw online? It talked about how Ginger had trained and inspired other women in that Cold War codebreaking outfit. People have made movies about that kind of work.”
“Maybe now is the time to talk to her. What about Jack? He always wanted to write her story.”
Marina grew quiet for a moment. “Any book Jack writes is bound to get a lot of attention. How do you think she’d feel about that now?”
Kai wrinkled her nose. “After embellishing her stories for years, she might not remember the real version.”
“I think she’s still plenty sharp.”
Yet, their grandmother wasn’t getting any younger, even though Ginger enjoyed exceptional health for her age. Her brisk walks on the beach and vigorous hikes to her favorite meditation spot on the ridgetop kept her in shape. Her incredible will drove her every day.
Kai reached out and shut the book in Marina’s hands. “That will be there tomorrow. Let’s start the video shoot while the cafe is slow. Besides, you need hair and makeup.”
“You told me to look natural.” Marina smoothed a hand over her wispy hair.
Kai arched an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve been working in a hot kitchen.”
“That’s because I have been.”
“I’m not letting you on camera like that. You should know better.”
Marina nudged her sister. “Work your magic, then.”
She followed Kai to the spacious hall bathroom of the old cottage. While Kai opened the bag she carried, Marina settled into a chair in front of the mirror. “I don’t want to look theatrical. I want to look like I do every day at the cafe.”
Kai opened her makeup bag, a glint of excitement in her eyes. “You’ll look that way on camera, I promise. Only better.”
Her sister hummed a Broadway tune as she worked. Marina guessed it was a song from West Side Story that Kai had once performed.
Kai cleansed her face and applied foundation to minimize the sheen, much as Marina had done for her on-camera work on the morning news in San Francisco, which seemed another lifetime ago.
“Hey, you look great,” Brooke said as she joined them. Her hair was in braids, and her sun-kissed face from gardening didn’t need makeup, although she had applied lipstick. “We’re all ready to go.”
Ginger was behind her, looking casually elegant in her pressed coral shirt and pearls. “What a wonderful idea this is,” she said, clasping her hands. “Three generations of the Delavie family cooking together.”
“Thank you all for being a part of this,” Marina said. “The Coral Cafe wouldn’t exist without you.”
Her daughter Heather had already dressed and was gathering the chef jackets and aprons they would use for the shoot. This video was Kai’s idea. Marina would use it for publicity and the Coral Cafe website.
After Kai finished, they made their way to the cafe. A lighting technician from Kai and Axe’s outdoor amphitheater was already there, lighting the space with the necessary brightness.
Kai brought out several tripods designed for phones and began to set them up. “Marina, I need your phone. Brooke and Heather, yours, too.”
Marina looked on with interest. “What are you doing?”
“I picked up tips and techniques when we filmed routines for promotional pieces on my last tour,” Kai replied. “I watched what the camera operators and the director were doing. When I edit this piece, I can pull different camera angles. I’m also filming vertical clips for social media. That’s what we do for our stage productions. It’s easy on the budget, and we adjust everything in post-production.”
Behind them, Cruise finished wiping down the stove. “I’ll get out of your way, ladies.”
Kai held up a hand. “Not so fast. I’ll want a few shots of you, too. You’re the food truck chef.” She twisted her lips to one side and opened her makeup bag. “Men need powder, too. Heather, would you take care of that while I set up the shots?”
Cruise grinned while Heather whisked a brush across his nose and cheeks. Then, the two of them posed for Kai.
After Kai finished the shots, she turned to Cruise. “I’ll need your help with filming,” she added, adjusting the settings.
Marina looked doubtful. “Are you sure these small devices can produce a good video?”
“As long as you know what you’re doing and have good lighting,” Kai replied.
Marina relaxed. After finishing a season at the outdoor amphitheater she ran with Axe, Kai was an experienced director with a good eye now.
While they waited, Cruise twirled Heather around, and she laughed. Quickly, Kai caught it on video. “Love the energy. Keep it up, everyone.”
Marina was pleased that she’d brought Cruise back on board after their disagreement earlier in the year. Their working relationship had improved. He listened to her and followed directions now, and she worked with him on new dishes and recipes, drawing on his training in top hotel kitchens.
Together, they developed a new food truck menu featuring specialty items and standards that could be prepared quickly in the small space. These included gourmet hamburgers with sweet potato fries, fish tacos with crunchy vegetables, and shrimp pizza with pesto sauce.
Kai turned to Marina. “Now, I need a few shots of you and Ginger.”
Marina posed with Ginger in the kitchen, and Kai snapped photos from different angles.
“All right, we’re ready to record.” Kai showed Cruise what to do.
“Welcome to the Coral Cafe,” Marina began. “I’m Marina Moore, and I’m here with three generations of my family.” She went on to introduce Ginger, Brooke, and Heather.
She and Kai had written a script for the dish they were preparing, a simple salad made with seasonal fruits and vegetables.
“Many of our most popular dishes are based on old family recipes that my grandmother Ginger Delavie developed.” Marina gestured to Brooke, who held a bountiful basket of fresh vegetables. “My sister Brooke is an organic gardener. Besides finding her fresh produce at the Summer Beach farmers market, you can also find it in many of our most popular dishes, such as this one.”
She paused and gestured to Heather as she introduced her. “My daughter serves in the cafe, or you might see her on our food truck at special events.”
“And cut,” Kai said, gesturing. “You’re off to a good start. Now let’s get cooking.”
“Just in time,” Brooke said, laughing. “I need a break, and I bet you do, too, Kai.”
“Two pregnant women in the family is a double blessing,” Ginger said, smiling. “We’ll take frequent breaks for you.”
Marina knew their grandmother was thrilled with the new additions to the family—they all were—and it almost made Marina wish for a child with Jack.
Almost, that is. Her twins were grown, and Jack had Leo to look after.
Their family was expanding in Summer Beach. Only her son Ethan was missing, though he visited when he could. He’d been playing in amateur golf tournaments the last few months and had won a few. He was following his dream of turning pro and getting close.
When her sisters returned, Kai and Brooke were in good spirits, with Brooke laughing over her predicament. With three rowdy boys at home, she and her husband hadn’t planned to have another child. On the other hand, Kai and her husband Axe tried to start a family for some time, and Kai worried they might not have any luck.
Just then, a smaller version of Jack tore around the corner, with Jack following close behind.
Marina threw an arm around Leo. “Did you come to watch us film the video?”
Leo grinned with excitement. “Dad said I can, as long as I’m quiet.”
“Hope that’s okay.” Jack pressed a kiss to Marina’s cheek. “Don’t want to mess up your lipstick.”
“I’ll risk it,” she said, stealing a kiss.
“Hey, you two,” Kai said. “Knock it off. I don’t have another makeup artist here.”
“Get this on film, will you?” Grinning, Jack swooped Marina into a deep dip, and she exploded with laughter.
“Got it,” Kai said, chuckling. “Places, everyone,” she called out, and the family scrambled back to their marks. “We’re rolling on three, two, and one.” She pointed, and they began.
As Marina began preparing a summer salad with avocados, cucumbers, and red and yellow cherry tomatoes, she stayed with the script, but Ginger and Brooke quickly veered from it.
Kai motioned for them to keep going, so Marina ad-libbed, and soon they were working together as they always did in the kitchen. Along the way, they laughed and made a couple of blunders. Brooke washed and trimmed the produce while Heather brought out supplies. Ginger’s quick wit and Marina’s knife skills brought the ingredients together in a colorful dish they served in Mexican Talavera bowls.
“And that’s a wrap,” Kai said, shooting a look at Cruise.
“We should do it over,” Marina said. “Maybe we laughed too much?”
“And one of the cucumbers got away from me,” Brooke added, bending to pick it up from the floor.
Kai waved a hand. “I’ll take care of that in editing. I can work with what we have.”
“Then let’s pour the champagne and fizzy apple juice,” Ginger said, clapping.
They all gathered in the kitchen, celebrating with a toast.
Marina held up her glass. “To Ginger, for showing us all how to believe in our dreams.”
“The Coral Cafe is proof of that,” Ginger added, tapping glasses and trading embraces. “You improved my recipes and added your own.”
Heather leaned against the kitchen counter. “Mom, you should write a cookbook, like Martha Stewart or Giada De Laurentiis.”
Ginger’s eyes lit. “Why, what a marvelous idea.”
“Do you think people need another cookbook?” Marina wasn’t so sure.
“You’ve won awards for your fancy seafood pizza,” Heather replied. “People often ask for recipes at the cafe. If you create a cookbook, I know I could sell it for you.”
“I’ll think about that.” With the growth of her business, Marina recorded her recipes to share with her expanding team. The idea of writing a cookbook appealed to her. It could be a good marketing tool—and pay for Heather’s final year of tuition if they did it right. “As long as I have help putting it together.”
“If you give me your recipes, I can write a first draft.” Heather’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s talk later. Blake is picking me up soon.”
“Tell him hello for me.” Marina liked the young man her daughter had been dating.
Brooke turned to Kai, who was still standing by the tripods. “Come join us.”
“In a minute.” Kai’s eyes shimmered with happiness. “Another break and I’ll be there. Brooke, pour a glass of the bubbly apple juice for me.”
Ginger turned to Jack and handed him a glass of champagne. “Do join us. You’re family, too.” When he accepted the glass, Ginger peered at him. “Sounds like you’re going to have another writer in the family,” she said, nodding toward Marina.
“You might have to help me, too,” Marina said to Ginger.
“I’d like that.” Ginger inclined her head. “In fact, I have another book in mind.”
Jack touched her glass with his and sipped his champagne. “For our children’s book series?”
“No, not that.” Ginger peered at him over the rim of her glass, apprising his reaction. “You’ve been wanting to write my story.”
Jack coughed in mid-sip, sputtering his reply. “Uh, yes, ma’am. You’re serious?”
“We’re well past the ma’am phase, Jack.” Ginger lifted her chin. “And yes, I’m quite serious. It’s time I began recording my memories for all of you.”
Marina looked concerned at Ginger and reached for Jack’s hand. She wondered what had precipitated this change of heart on her grandmother’s part. Ginger had been feeling nostalgic lately, sharing photos and memories with her.
Was she feeling well?
The thought of anything happening to her grandmother filled Marina with anxiety. She still needed Ginger.
They all did.