Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
In culinary school, it had been drilled into Jared that a chef never, ever left his knives in anything less than perfect condition, no matter how briefly he was leaving his workstation.
Over the years, cleaning and arranging his knives in their case had become a therapeutic action for Jared; since returning to Magnolia Shore and opening Riverstone Kitchen, he’d started performing this ritual at the window that connected the kitchen to the public space of the restaurant.
This made it a two-for-one; he got to tend to his knives and connect with his community at the same time.
Today, he was just wrapping up polishing his paring knife when Cadence and Tyler Meadows came in for some lunch, this time without their daughter, who was likely spending the day with her grandparents.
Jared smiled. He’d seen Cadence and Tyler having dates around town these past few months, and he was happy for them.
The work they were putting into their relationship was clearly paying off.
“Hey guys,” he greeted. Tyler had helped with some of his electrical work when he was opening the kitchen, and he liked both the affable man and his wife. “Lunch date?”
They both smiled at him, but there was a tightness in their expressions that gave him a pang of worry.
“Hey, Jared,” Tyler said, his tone a little absent.
“Everything okay?”
The couple exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. Jared wondered what it must be like, to be so in tune with a partner that you could have an entire conversation without actually speaking a word aloud.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” Cadence said with a sigh after a moment. “Izzy’s going through some school stuff, so we’re having more of a strategy lunch than a lunch date.”
“Nothing too bad, I hope,” Jared said, taking care to keep the words neutral. He didn’t want them to feel like they had to share, but he wanted them to know that he was happy to listen if they needed a friendly ear.
Fortunately, Cadence’s next smile came a little easier.
“We have been assured by more experienced parents that it will pass, but it still sticks in your head, you know? You worry.”
“I’m not a parent myself, but that’s the rumor,” Jared said, grinning. “I hear the little cuties keep you totally on your toes.”
“Like a ballerina,” Tyler quipped.
“Well, we have a great dessert today that’s inspired by bananas foster,” Jared told them. “On the house. I’ll have it sent over when you’re done with your meal.”
The Meadows demurred, but Jared insisted. He’d always loved feeding people, as his career indicated, and feeding people he actually knew and cared about was even better.
When the message had been passed along to his wait staff and the Meadows were safely at their table, Jared finally wrapped up his bundle of knives and put them in their proper place so that he could go out shopping for the dinner service.
This was another thing that he loved about owning and operating a smaller restaurant.
In the big cities where he had worked, every vendor had to be vetted far in advance, and the sheer quantity of food needed meant that nothing could be done spur of the moment.
Now, though, Jared could buy up local produce and other goods from nearby farms and manufacturers based on what looked freshest or most interesting to him. From there, he got to be creative.
At Country Corner Market, he grabbed a cart and waved to the employees, all of whom knew him well. He would likely fill up this cart and start another one before he was done shopping, and they knew that he would be making a large purchase.
Jared couldn’t resist rubbing his hands together as he approached the large wooden containers of produce. He basically felt like a kid at Christmas, only instead of having to wait a year to enjoy the excitement, he got to shop for local produce a few times a week.
Early April in Massachusetts was an interesting culinary puzzle.
The heartier winter crops were on their way out, but not completely gone yet, while the first tender spring vegetables were just beginning to make an appearance.
He decided that the rhubarb still looked a little early, that it would be too tart for most of his customers even if he turned it into a dessert.
He would give that another week or two and then reconsider.
The spring carrots looked great, however. He loaded several armfuls into the reusable bags that he always brought along for grocery trips. The wild leeks and arugula also looked phenomenal, and his mind started racing with ideas for crisp, light salads paired with crumbly, savory goat cheese.
And maybe it made him a little bit of a dork, but Jared outright did a little dance of triumph when he saw the bounty of morels, the first mushroom crop of the new year. Oh, his kingdom for some good mushrooms!
“Find something good there, Jared?”
Jared jolted a little as hearing his name drew him out of his vegetable-created reverie. He turned, feeling a little sheepish, to see Miriam Landers smiling at him.
Miriam and… oh, hey. That was the woman he’d seen the other day! His mother had trained him to be respectful of his elders, however, so he turned to the older lady first.
“Oh, you know me, Miriam,” he said with a grin. “When am I not excited about food?”
“It’s an occupational hazard, I suppose,” she said kindly. “By the way, speaking of restaurants… Jared, this is my granddaughter, Hope.”
The woman behind her gave a little wave.
Now that Jared knew about the relationship between them, he could see it.
Hope had long chestnut waves to Miriam’s stylish silvery crop, and Hope’s honey eyes were a different color from Miriam’s gray ones.
But there was something about the nose that was similar, not to mention the same, slightly lopsided smile.
There were other differences too, of course, but the one that caught Jared’s attention the most was how pretty Hope was. Not that Miriam wasn’t lovely in her own way, of course…
But the way that Jared noticed was definitely different.
“Hope,” he greeted, pleased to now know her name. “Hello.”
Before he could mention that he and Hope had already met, Miriam spoke again.
“Anyway,” she said, “I say ‘speaking of restaurants’ because Hope, sweetie, Jared here owns the fanciest eatery in our own Magnolia Shore.”
Normally, Jared would have taken such praise in stride. That was precisely the kind of place he’d wanted to build when he moved back here, after all. But something about hearing it said while Hope smiled at him made him feel bashful.
“Oh, Miriam, that’s too kind,” he demurred.
“Nonsense,” she said, brushing off his concerns with an airy hand. “You know it’s true; I know it’s true; the whole town knows it’s true. What you might not know is that Hope here was the best darn waiter in the best darn restaurant in Boston until it closed recently.”
Now, it was Hope’s turn to look bashful. “Mimi,” she protested. She rolled her eyes affectionately and shook her head at Jared. “I don’t know about me being the best, but I did wait tables at a place called Sharp’s Fish Fillet in Boston for about the past ten years.”
Jared blinked. “Wait, Sharp’s is closing? But they can’t be going out of business!”
His refusal wasn’t just because, as a restauranteur himself, he didn’t like to hear of other places closing, although he did feel that too. It felt like a bad omen. But he’d been to Sharp’s. It seemed impossible that a place that good, and with such a consistent, loyal clientele, could go under.
“Oh, well, not really,” Hope said vaguely. “The owner is looking to retire, so she’s selling the place. So I am, alas, out of a job.”
She sounded like she was trying to hide bitterness in her tone, but it snuck through the cracks. Miriam reached out and rubbed her granddaughter’s arm affectionately. Jared frowned in commiseration.
“And you didn’t want to find another place?
” he said. He hoped that she could tell that he understood.
For people like them, people who stayed in the food industry long-term, moving to a new restaurant wasn’t as easy as just finding someone hiring.
Restaurants could become your home away from home.
The staff there could become a kind of family.
“Not that easy,” Hope confessed, and he gave her a commiserative look.
“Yeah, I get that,” he said.
Miriam sprang back into ‘proud grandmother’ mode. “It is their loss, though, because Hope was the greatest waitress this side of Canada, if you ask me.”
“Mimi, oh my goodness,” Hope mumbled, her face in her hands.
“Oh, stop it,” Miriam said, swatting at her granddaughter. “I’m allowed to brag about you. Grandmother’s prerogative. Anyway,” she said, turning back to Jared, “you should have her around that restaurant of yours. I’m sure she could teach your staff a thing or two.”
“Oh my gosh,” Hope muttered to herself. “I’m having a bad dream, probably. I’m sure I’ll wake up soon.”
Jared grinned, even if he felt a little bad being so entertained by her embarrassment. She was just so adorable, though; he couldn’t help it.
“Oh, hush, Hope,” Miriam said. She winked at Jared, which made it obvious that she was riling up her granddaughter on purpose. “I am an old woman. Let me have my fun.”
“You are not that old,” Hope chided, peeking out from between her fingers.
“Feeble,” Miriam corrected, putting a hand to her forehead dramatically.
“You’re a menace,” Hope said, but she was smiling now.
Jared was charmed by them both. In different ways, sure, but definitely charmed by them both.
“We would love to see you around the restaurant sometime,” Jared said. “And not just because your grandmother here bullied me into it.”
He smiled at Miriam to show that he was teasing, but in true Miriam Landers form, she sent him a shocked look anyway, as though he’d been intentionally rude. The sparkle in her eye made it clear that she didn’t mean that either.