Sea Fever Read Online Free PDF Page B

when Frank had that episode last winter that he’d
    make it to his sixty-fifth,” Jane said, clutching her purse. “But he did, the
    old coot. Anyway, they’re all coming, Trish and Ed and Erica and the
    grandkids. We’re having a big party. And I want you to cater it.”

    Regina felt a spurt of satisfaction, warm and sweet as biting into
    pastry filling. She knew her food was good. But she didn’t get many
    opportunities to show what she could do. “Um, I’m not really set up for—
    ”

    “We don’t do catering here,” Antonia said from the kitchen pass
    through. “We do take-out. You can look at a menu, if you want.”

    35

    “Oh.” Jane’s face folded. “Well . . .”

    “How many guests?” Regina asked.

    “I don’t— thirty?” Jane guessed.

    She could do thirty, Regina thought, excitement balling in her
    stomach. She could feed thirty in her sleep. As long as Margred was
    willing to help with setup . . .

    “Talk to the inn,” Antonia said. “The chef there can probably—”

    “I already asked at the inn. Forty-eight dollars a head, he wanted,
    and twenty-four for the kids, who won’t eat nothing but chocolate milk
    and hot dogs anyway.” Jane’s soft jaw set. “I want you to do it.”

    “So take a menu,” Antonia said.

    “Frank really liked those little crab cakes,” Jane said to Regina.

    He liked her food.

    She could do this.

    “Why don’t I put together some ideas,” Regina said, already
    reviewing appetizers in her head. Tiny grilled sausages, that was easy, the
    kids could snack on those. Canapes. Maybe Gorgonzola with pine nuts?
    Roasted asparagus wrapped in proscuitto. “I can come by the shop later to
    talk. Thursday?” Thursdays she worked from lunch until close.
    “Thursday morning?”

    Jane beamed, relieved and triumphant. “Thursday morning, sure.”

    “Is that all you came in for?” Antonia asked.

    “Yes.” Jane’s gaze flickered to Margred; lingered on her belly. “And
    to see the bride, of course.”

    “Well, you’ve seen her. Now we can all get back to work. Real
    work,” Antonia added as Jane sailed out the door. “Not wasting time and
    money on Frank Ivey’s birthday party.”

    36

    “It’s not a waste,” Regina argued. “We can do this. We should do
    this.”

    “We don’t have the staff,” Antonia said.

    It was an old argument, one that started the headache behind
    Regina’s eyes. They alternated shifts now, mornings and evenings, both
    of them on during the lunch and dinner hours and Margred filling in as
    needed. “So we hire—”

    “Who?” Antonia demanded. “Anybody around here wants to pick up
    extra cash, they get it working the stern on a lobster boat, not scrubbing
    pots or serving fancy appetizers.”

    “I’m just saying if we developed a catering business— just as a
    sideline—”

    “We’re doing fine without it.”

    “We could do better.”

    Catering would give her a shot at an expanded menu and more
    flexible hours. But what Regina saw as an opportunity, her mother saw as
    a rejection of everything she’d worked for.

    “So now you have a problem with the way I’m running the
    restaurant?”

    Regina’s head pulsed. “No, Ma. It’s business.”

    “It’s bullshit. Jane only came in here because she wanted to get a
    good look at Maggie.”

    Regina pressed her fingers to her temples. “What the hell are you
    talking about?”

    “I’m only telling you what everybody’s saying.”

    “What are they saying?” Margred asked.

    “You got married in an awful hurry. Could be—” Antonia paused
    uncharacteristically before plunging on. “Some folks figure you must be
    pregnant.”

    37

    “Ma!” Regina protested. Instinctively, she looked for Nick, but he
    was upstairs in the apartment they had shared since she brought him
    home over seven years ago: four small rooms with mice in the walls and
    the smell of garlic and red sauce rising from the kitchen below.

    “What?” Antonia