Chapter 6
6
" W ow, this place has a different vibe than the rest of Melbourne Beach. It’s a departure from areas I normally gravitate towards, and I don’t hate it,” Deb said. “I can see developing an alter ego in a place like this. My clientele on Merritt Island would be shocked if they knew I was going to have lunch at a barbecue establishment.”
“When in Rome,” Tabitha said. “Did you call Mel and tell her where we’re going?”
“I did. She ran into a family that she and Dale know, and they asked her to lunch at their place. I guess they have a spot on the beach,” Deb said.
Zabu’s was inside an unassuming brick building, and it smelled like all the cooking went on out back. The tables had a roll of paper towels in the middle and butcher paper on top. The bar was an old door sitting upon stacked crates. Of course, it was finished to look nice. It was probably made by a local craftsman. There didn’t appear to be menus, but they were referred to a chalkboard on the wall. They sat in mismatched chairs, and they waited for Marcus. Tabitha had given him a call on the way over, and he was on his way.
Tabitha saw him walk in and request something from the server before he even sat down.
“Hello, ladies,” Marcus said. “My nephew Dalton will join us later and said not to wait to order. I remembered where I know you from, Deb, and I can’t believe I didn’t recall the South Florida Children’s Hospital Charity Gala a couple of years ago. Now that I see you in person, the connection is so obvious. You were a force of positivity in that room. Folks who go to those shindigs are usually just filling their social calendar and don’t know what charity they support. You were engaged and stood out for that reason.”
“I thought I was losing my power to get noticed. A friend’s son spent most of his childhood in that hospital battling leukemia, so it is a charity close to my heart. He's five years cancer-free, by the way. I hardly meet anyone without putting them on my contact list. I never know when I’ll need a realtor, for example,” Deb said.
Tabitha could tell that Deb’s day was made. It was a little thing, but she could tell it bothered her. The server came by with a pitcher of beer, three glasses, and a plate of something fried.
“I took the honor of ordering us something to get us started. I hope you ladies enjoy a beer now and then,” Marcus said.
“Last night it was champagne, and now beer. I guess it’s our vacation, so why not,” Tabitha said.
Marcus charmed Deb and unabashedly flirted with Tabitha, which she didn’t mind. She was practicing being single, which she hadn’t been since college. After Greg, she had her numb period and then came Maxim. The new Tabitha felt pretty good.
They ordered a couple of racks of ribs and one order of brisket with plenty of burnt ends. Before their food came, Marcus saw a friend walk into the restaurant and sit at the bar. He waved him down, and the man with a red beard wearing a leather smock walked over. He introduced him as Nathaniel.
“I’m Deb, and I have to ask about the beard. Have you had it trimmed recently or considered getting rid of it?”
Tabitha cringed. Deb didn’t drink often, and when she did, that happened. Her filter was gone after her first sip.
Nathaniel looked at her incredulously. "I have to ask you a question. Have you considered wearing less makeup?"
Tabitha and Marcus looked at each other nervously. Tabitha knew things were not going to end pretty. Marcus opened his mouth, and he was probably going to say something to ease the tension.
Nathaniel and Deb roared with laughter. The temperature in the room cooled considerably, and the only people bothered by the comments were Marcus and Tabitha.
“Where did you find these two stunning women,” Nathaniel asked.
“I rented the Regan house to them, so they’ll be here all summer. This is Tabitha, and you’ve met Deb. Why don’t you grab a glass and join us,” Marcus said.
“No beer for me because I’m working on a commissioned piece. I’ve been using a saw for over thirty years, and I’m not about to lose a finger. It’ll stain the wood, and I’ve put too much into this piece,” Nathaniel said.
“You’re a carpenter?” Deb asked.
Nathaniel nearly spit out his water. “A carpenter is someone you hire to build shelves in your den. I graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design. Some people even call me an artist.”
“Sorry, Deb, you wouldn’t have known. Nathaniel is a sought-after wood carver. We’re lucky that he has roots here, and this is where he ended up. We met here a few years ago, and we’ve been buddies ever since,” Marcus said.
“That explains the beard,” Deb said.
“What line of work are you in?” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m a stylist and esthetician. I own a salon on Merritt Island,” she said.
“That explains the makeup,” Nathaniel commented. “I don’t ever think I’ve met a woman who could go toe-to-toe with me.”
“I’d love to see your work. Now that you know I can take an insult and hand one out, too, I think I’ve earned a tour of your workshop – I mean studio,” Deb said boldly.
Tabitha and Marcus were just an audience to whatever was happening between Nathaniel and Deb. There seemed to be an odd chemistry between the two. Tabitha wasn’t sure if it would create something lethal or palatable.
“Meet me here tomorrow at noon. I have a little gallery next door, and my studio is about two blocks from the beach,” Nathaniel said.
“I’ll be here,” Deb said.
Nathaniel took his food and walked towards the door. He paused, looked back at Deb, and winked.
“Well, that was the oddest thing I ever witnessed. I know you well, and that man seems nice, but he isn’t remotely your type. He’s also a stranger, and you’re allowing him to lure you to his studio. That sounds creepy to me.”
Marcus put up his hand. “Whoa, my friend Nathaniel is far from being creepy. He’s unique and unconventional but not creepy. He was joking with Deb because he sensed she could take it, and he was right. Nathaniel would never insult someone who couldn’t take it. He treated you with nothing but respect.”
“I can tell creepy, and Nathaniel wasn’t creepy. I’ve seen men in Tom Ford suits driving Lamborghinis who have been creepy. He seemed sincere, and I don’t know why. I’ll have my phone, and you know where I’ll be. I've survived on my own since I was eighteen, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.”
Marcus stood, and a smile stretched across his face as a young man, probably his nephew, walked in. He wore a navy T-shirt, khaki shorts, and white sneakers, a classic server uniform. He walked up and gave Marcus a bro hug.
“Tabitha, Deb, this is my nephew Dalton. He’ll be a freshman next year at Florida State, so I’m trying to spend as much time as possible with him this summer. I don’t have kids, but Dalton gets confused and thinks I’m his father,” Marcus joked.
“Hello, nice to meet you both,” Dalton said. “Are you new to the area?”
“Your uncle hooked us up with a rental. We live on Merritt Island so we’re close, although it seems miles away,” Tabitha said. “Your mom lives in Melbourne Beach, isn’t that right?”
“She does, but her house is crazy since we recently blended families when she got hitched. We’re like The Brady Bunch , and it can be a lot, but in a good way. I like chilling at Marcus’ place.”
Dalton was tall and toned with sandy hair that Tabitha could tell would turn blonde by the end of the summer. He had great manners, which was rare for someone his age, although he was probably hiding a wild side. Most teenagers had one, and if they didn’t, it was odd. Tabitha thought that if you didn’t do at least a few things you weren’t supposed to do while you were a teenager, they’d come out in the adult years.
Of course, she thought of Deenie when a young man like Dalton presented himself. She had to resist playing matchmaker because maybe he had a girlfriend, wanted to remain single, or he could be like Glenn.
“What’s the name of the restaurant where you work?” Tabitha asked. “My roommates and I will be looking for reliable places to eat. As far as I know, none of us are gourmets.”
“The Dirty Dozen. The word dirty should not be in the name of a restaurant, but that doesn’t stop it from being great. It’s essentially a diner with awesome food. It’s not fancy, but the chef turns out dishes that you might find in another place for twice the price. It's good for me because the tables turn over quickly, which means I make killer tips.”
“We’ll definitely give it a try. My daughter is staying with me for July. What is there to do for teenagers?” Tabitha said. She was dancing around the edges of matchmaking but being inconspicuous about it.
“The beach is best. How old is she?” Dalton asked.
“She’s almost seventeen and going into her senior year of high school,” Tabitha said. She didn’t know why she didn’t just say sixteen.
“Let me know when she gets here. I’ll take her around and give her the particulars,” he said.
The food was amazing, and nothing was left but bones on their plates. Tabitha’s crush on Marcus was blossoming, and Deb had developed an interest or a curiosity in the artist with the red beard.