Chapter 6
JACK
Café on Main was busy when I entered the next morning, but that was nothing new.
Painted a dark burgundy color inside that gave it a warm, cozy vibe, it was the most popular café in town with both the locals and the tourists, thanks largely to its online reviews for having the best drip coffee.
Dark and full-roasted, it was the closest I’d found to the coffee back home and most mornings I needed the buzz it gave me to kick-start the day.
I really needed it this morning especially.
I’d been surprised, the night before, when I got back to the cabin and realized it was gone midnight.
We’d been chatting in the tidal pool for a couple of hours, but the time had skipped by so fast I hadn’t even noticed its passage.
It had ended abruptly. One minute we were chatting and the next, Taylor swam to the end of the pool and climbed out, bidding me goodnight and disappearing into the darkness, leaving nothing but wet footprints on the rocks behind her.
I joined the line to the counter and scanned the menu board while I waited, even though I knew full well what I was going to order. I ordered the same thing every day, even though I kept telling myself I was going to try something new.
‘Morning, Eve,’ I said when it was my turn at the counter.
She looked up, harried, but smiled when she saw me. ‘Morning, Jack. Let me guess, a Carpe Diem and a bagel sandwich to go?’
I smiled back. ‘You got it.’
The Carpe Diem coffee was a blend of Sumatran, French, Colombian, Kenyan and French-roasted Costa Rica beans.
It tasted as delicious and strong as it sounded.
And the bagel sandwich was my go-to breakfast on the run.
Smoked salmon, fried egg, cucumbers, dill cream cheese and capers on a whole grain bagel.
She rolled her eyes. ‘When are you going to try something new? I got a whole selection up there.’ She pointed to the board above her head without lifting her eyes.
‘My blueberry pancakes are world famous, Jack. I’m not kidding.
I had a guy last week from Australia who came here ten years ago on his honeymoon and has been dreaming of coming back just for my pancakes ever since.
He finally made that dream happen, Jack.
Came back here for his ten-year anniversary and first thing he did was come in and order my pancakes. ’
‘He came all the way back here and that’s the first thing he did?’
‘Well, he booked himself into the inn first,’ she admitted. ‘But the second thing he did was come here and order my pancakes.’
‘Impressive.’
‘It is. He said they were every bit as good as he remembered. Almost cried a little.’
‘Wow.’ Someone cleared their throat loudly behind me. ‘As amazing as that sounds, I don’t feel like crying today, so I’ll just take the coffee and bagel please, Eve. To go.’
She sighed. ‘You’re missing out, Jack.’
‘I promise you that one day I’ll sit down and try the pancakes.’
‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
She scribbled my order down, ripped the piece of paper off the pad and passed it over to another staff member while I scanned my card to pay.
‘I mean it doesn’t make any difference to me if you eat something else or not,’ she said.
‘I’m just trying to expand your culinary experience.
A man shouldn’t eat the same thing every day.
He should kiss the same woman, but he shouldn’t eat the same food. ’
‘Thanks for looking out for me.’
‘You’re welcome. Now get lost, will you, you’re holding up the line.’
‘Amazing service as always, Eve. Same time tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ She waved a hand and looked over my shoulder to the next person. I was dismissed.
I perched myself on a barstool at a slim bench table against the side wall while I waited for my order.
From there, I could see most of the people in the café.
It was set up eclectically, with tables and couches and booths by the window.
There were a few familiar faces – locals, mostly retired ones.
Some I knew by name, others just by sight.
The lady who walked her Labrador every single morning at dawn in the park opposite the restaurant.
I used to watch her while I drank my coffee from the upstairs apartment.
The dog would tug her towards the water to chase after seagulls.
I knew why I was studying faces. Trying to figure out if any of them were her.
When my order was ready, I took the coffee and bagel out to the park to eat, sitting on a bench seat and watching the ferry chug over from the mainland with a fresh batch of tourists ready to descend upon the island.
I watched them disperse while I ate, some headed for the shops, others to eat, the rest of them choosing to take the scenic walk around the harbor first. The air smelled like coconut-scented sunscreen.
Food finished, I threw my rubbish into the bin and drove my truck to the recently renamed hardware store, The Coastal Craftsman.
It had previously been known simply as Fred’s Store, until Fred died, shortly before I moved here.
His son Jasper had taken over the business and decided it needed a catchier, more modern name.
Hence, The Coastal Craftsman had been born.
He’d had a new sign made for the storefront and held a grand reopening party, even though he never actually closed.
‘Morning, Jack,’ he said, when the little bell above the door announced my entrance. ‘Hot enough for you?’
‘Another day in paradise.’
‘What can I do for you today?’
‘I need a new showerhead.’
‘I can help with that.’ He put down the little handheld fan he had been holding up to his face and came out from behind the counter and headed off down one of the aisles.
I followed him carefully. There was a reason people in town said you could get everything you need from The Coastal Craftsman, and that was because the store stocked anything and everything that any tradesman or self-respecting do-it-yourselfer could ever possibly need.
It was dangerously overstocked, with boxes piled high in the aisles and shelves loaded to the max.
Even though it went against a man’s natural instincts to ask for directions in finding something, you asked in Jasper’s store, because you might just get lost if you went looking yourself.
‘Here we are,’ he announced. ‘What sort of showerhead are you after?’
‘A normal one?’
‘Normal.’ He moved a couple of boxes to one side. ‘We’ve got fixed, handheld, dual, and rain, to name a few. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than just normal.’
My curiosity was piqued. ‘Rain?’
He picked up a large square showerhead. ‘It mimics gentle rainfall, so you feel like you’re standing out in the rain.’
‘And people like that?’
‘Apparently. It’s one of my bestsellers.’
‘I’ve never heard of it before.’
‘Then you clearly don’t stay in many five-star hotels. They’re quite common in those establishments, I believe.’
‘Clearly not.’
‘We’ve also got high-flow, low-flow, filtered showerheads, rail showerheads, outdoor showerheads.’
‘I think I just want a plain, normal showerhead if they still make such a thing.’
He picked up the box that said fixed head. ‘You think that’s what you want?’
‘Well, it’s not actually for me.’
Jasper straightened up, immediately sensing gossip. ‘I see. For a lady friend, perhaps?’
‘Well, she is a lady, and she is a friend, so yes.’
‘Someone I know?’
‘Yeah, I reckon you do.’
His eyes lit up, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. The town seemed convinced that there was something going on between Hannah and me. After all, she was the whole reason I had come here in the first place.
‘She’s about… this high.’ I demonstrated with one hand. ‘And about… ooh, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say around eighty, give or take.’
He looked confused. ‘Pounds?’
‘Years.’
‘I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.’
‘No.’ I took the box from him. ‘I don’t think we are.’
I was still chuckling to myself about it when Irene opened her front door. She was petite and silver-haired and the epitome of a sweet, little old lady.
‘Jack.’ She beamed. ‘How lovely.’ She turned to look inside the house. ‘Richard, Jack’s here.’
‘Who?’
‘Jack,’ she repeated, louder. ‘You know, Jack from the restaurant.’
‘Oh, that Jack. What’s he want?’
She turned back to me. ‘How can we help you, Jack?’
I held up the box and she looked at it.
‘How lovely,’ she said. ‘What is it?’
‘You mentioned the other night that your showerhead had calcified and your water flow was almost non-existent.’
‘Oh, yes.’ She frowned. ‘I tried giving it a good scrub with an old toothbrush, but it didn’t help.’
‘I thought I could replace it for you. Picked up a new one from the store. I’ve got time to spare before I need to be at work, so, here I am.’
‘You don’t need to do that, Jack.’
‘I want to. Is now a good time?’
‘Close the door,’ Richard called. ‘I can feel a breeze.’
‘Oh, shush you,’ Irene scolded him. ‘We need all the breeze we can get in this heat.’ She stepped to one side. ‘Come in, Jack. I’ll put the kettle on. Would you like a tea? Coffee?’
I kicked off my shoes and stepped inside. ‘A coffee would be great, thanks, Irene. I’ll get to work changing this while you make it.’
‘Aren’t you lovely to think of us. Isn’t he lovely, Richard?’
‘What?’
‘I said isn’t he lovely?’
‘Did you close the door?’
She rolled her eyes at him affectionately. ‘Yes, I closed the door. If you’re cold, put a blanket over your knees.’ She turned to me again. ‘He feels the cold dreadfully, even now in summer. I think it has to do with his circulation. He… we, both appreciate you doing this for us.’
I smiled. ‘You’re welcome. I couldn’t have my favorite customers going without a decent shower now, could I?’
A mug of coffee was waiting on the kitchen table for me when I emerged. I washed my hands over the kitchen sink and then joined her at the table. Richard was in his La-Z-Boy in the lounge, watching a game show on TV.
‘Van Gogh,’ he said, answering a question I hadn’t heard.
‘All done?’ Irene asked, pushing a packet of biscuits across the table towards me. ‘I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.’
‘It was fine,’ I assured her, helping myself to a biscuit and dunking it in my coffee. ‘I tested the new one and it works well. You should get quite a few years out of it, but let me know if you have any issues. And not just with the shower. I’m happy to help with anything else you might need.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Jack. Richard used to do all the house repairs but he’s not really up to it any more.’ She picked up her purse. ‘How much do we owe you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Jack.’
‘I mean it. You don’t owe me anything.’
‘At least let me pay for the part.’
‘No. And if you keep pushing it we’re going to fall out.’ I said it with a smile though, so she knew I was only kidding.
‘You’re a lovely man, Jack. Pine Harbor is lucky to have you. You are planning on staying here with us, right?’
‘For now, sure. I haven’t really made any long-term plans. Kind of winging it as I go.’
‘What you need is to find yourself a nice local lady.’
‘I met one last night, actually. I mean, not in a romantic way. She’s married. Sort of.’
Her eyebrows puckered. ‘Sort of?’
‘Long story. And not my story to tell, not that I know much about it anyway.’
‘What’s her name? I know most of the families in the area. Some better than others.’
‘Taylor. She’s actually the daughter of the lady I rent the cabin from.’
‘Taylor Calderwood?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Oh, she’s a lovely girl. From a lovely family.
Well, her mother is a decent sort. The father wasn’t on the scene a lot.
From what I understand he left when the kids were young.
I don’t think they had all that much to do with him after that.
Died a few years later in an accident. They brought him back here and buried him in the town cemetery but I don’t think they visit him often.
I go once a month to tidy up my sister’s grave, put fresh flowers on, that sort of thing, and I never see so much as a single flower on his grave. ’
‘That’s sad.’
‘There’s a lot of graves like that. Neglected. Forgotten. Then of course there was all that other business. Just horrible, it was.’ She shook her head mournfully. ‘That poor family is no stranger to tragedy. How is Taylor? Didn’t she marry that Wilson lad? Adam?’
‘She seemed fine. She’s in town to look after her uncle while her mother is on a cruise.’
‘Ray? Her mother has the patience of a saint, taking him in. He worked on the lobster boats with my brother for a while. He’s one of those people who always has to be right.’ She chuckled. ‘My brother said there were many times the crew were tempted to throw him overboard.’
‘Taylor didn’t seem too happy about being stuck with him.’
‘No, I bet she isn’t. I bet he’s none too thrilled either.’
I swirled the last of the coffee in my cup and then drained it.
I was curious about what Irene had said relating to Taylor’s family being no stranger to tragedy, but I couldn’t ask what she’d meant by that.
Or rather, I wouldn’t. It would be prying, and I figured if Taylor wanted me to know she would tell me herself. If I ever saw her again.