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The power is still out but at least the generator I bought seems to be holding up and keeping most of the important things powered.
I walk into the bathroom and open the glass shower door. Reaching inside, I turn on the shower to let the hot water start up, when I get a call.
Rita calling…
I close the shower door and let it heat up as I slide the bar on my phone over to answer.
“Morning Rita,” I say.
“Good morning my hero. I heard about the other houses on the beach and that ours are in good shape because of you.”
“Who did you hear that from?” I ask.
Did she drive down to take a look this morning?
“I opened up this morning to start taking breakfast customers since our generator at the restaurant is big enough to handle our daily operation needs.”
She's already opening up to take customers?
It shouldn't shock me. Rita is one of those stubborn-headed individuals who probably would have kept the place open all through the storm if she didn't think it would encourage people to put themself in harm's way just to come in for dinner at Scallywag's.
“Are you sure you’re ready to start back up so soon?”
It’s been less than forty-eight hours since the storm came through here.
“Yes, I’m sure. People need to eat, and many didn’t have a capable young man to fend off a hurricane for them. They could use a little pick-me-up today, and we’re going to provide it. I'm only offering a small menu, and everything is discounted to cover the cost of ingredients.”
Rita and Bart have always done stuff like this for their customers since I’ve known them.
They’re good people who have a solid community of individuals who love them. She praises me for taking care of her home, but if it hadn’t been me, one of her many regulars would have taken care of it for her.
“Well, that’s very generous of you. I’m sure everyone is grateful to have a hot meal with the power still being out.”
“Speaking of which…” she starts.
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Could I convince you to come down and look at the generator for me? It’s acting a little fussy this morning and I just want to make sure everything runs smoothly today. I’ll bribe you with whatever you want to eat.”
She knows that she doesn’t have to ask for a favor. Anything she needs, I’ll show up for her, just like she and Bart have always showed up for me.
“You don’t have to bribe me. But I also won’t turn down breakfast. Is Miguel cooking this morning?” I ask of her long-time chef, who should probably be cooking at a Michelin-star restaurant in some large city but instead he likes the freedom and low pressure of Scallywag's. He and his wife Marie have lived here almost as long as Rita, and he's been the chef since Scallywag's opened.
His cooking has a lot to do with why Scallywag's is as popular as it is.
Between the company and atmosphere that Rita and Bart created, along with the food, there’s never a slow time for them.
I miss the long days on my fishing boat with Bart, discussing current events, human nature, the thriller book I borrowed from his bookshelf, and, occasionally, Greek mythology.
The man knew a lot about a lot, and I could have listened to him talk about how concrete dries, in real-time, and he’d still keep me engaged and interested until the very end.
Since I lost touch with my parents after Josslin and I broke up, Bart and Rita filled in a gaping hole that I didn’t know needed to be filled until I showed up on this beach with a house that needed more work than I was told and a lack of stability in my life.
They are the place I call “home” when people ask where I go after the hockey season is over for the year.
“I'm jumping in the shower now, and then I’ll load up some tools and head over,” I say.
“You’re a doll. Bring your house guest with you. I’ll feed her, too. See you soon, hun.”
