Maris had to smile to herself. Aunt Glenda would have been so pleased. Not only would she have enjoyed the music, the whole town seemed to be involved. It generated business for everyone concerned, and the quiet little Victorian plaza was simply coming to life. Though she didn’t know how she could help, it might be fun to get involved with the next festival.
But as she neared the smokehouse, thoughts of music, gazebos, and booths wafted away, replaced by the restaurant’s delicious aromas. Smoky and spicy, with a hint of the seafood for which the region was famed, the fragrances were positively mouthwatering. The wood siding exterior had several large windows that revealed quite a multitude inside. Though Maris hadn’t planned for it being so crowded, she was glad that she’d ordered ahead.
Inside it seemed that every seat was taken and there were even a few people waiting. Nevertheless, Eugene Burnside spotted her entering and quickly came over. Despite being in his seventies, with hair and mustache a pure white, he moved his short and portly frame around like a much younger man.
“Maris Seaver,” he said, smiling at her. His eyes turned into hazel-colored half-moons. “Good to see you. It feels like a month of Sundays.”
“It does indeed,” she agreed. Getting the B&B ready to be fully occupied had taken a bit of time, not to mention work. “How have you been?”
“Superb,” he said. “Couldn’t ask for more. Business is jumping, Delia is cooking up a storm, and the festival starts tomorrow. It just doesn’t get any better.”
Coming from anyone else, Maris would have suspected hyperbole. But Eugene was different. It wasn’t his restaurant work or the fact that his daughter had taken over the place that kept him young—it was his attitude. He had to be the most positive person she’d ever met.
She smiled back at him, and indicated the packed room. “I’ll bet even Delia is having a hard time keeping up with this.” She noticed that, like Howard, they’d hired some extra help. One young man was bussing tables, and there seemed to be a new waitress as well.
He shook his head and grinned. “There’s no stopping that girl of mine, but I’m afraid she won’t have time to come out and say hi.” He went to a small table at the end of the waiting area and picked up one of the white paper bags that had been stapled closed at the top. Under the staple was her name and the bill. “Four Shrimp Po’ Boys?”
“That would be mine,” she said, reaching into her purse for her wallet.
Eugene set the order on the hostess podium as a young couple passed him on the way out. “Thanks folks,” he called out to them. “Keep your pepper dry.”
Although the man grinned and waved at him, the young woman looked vaguely puzzled. Maris hid her smile as she brought out the wallet.
Eugene reached under the podium, frowned, and then crouched down to look underneath it. “That’s odd.” He stood and looked at the table with the to-go orders. “Where’d it go?”
Maris took out her credit card. “Where did what go?”
Eugene scratched his head. “The credit card reader.”
The waitress passed them and went to the small group that was waiting. “I can seat you now.”
They followed her from the waiting area, while Eugene moved the white bags and looked behind them. For a moment, as Maris watched the diners wending their way through the packed diner, she wondered if some extra staff at the B&B might help next year.
Eugene went back to the podium, and looked behind it again. “I always leave it here.” Then he glanced back at the table, as a young family came in. He smiled at them. “I’ll be right with you folks.” He fetched a few menus and handed them out. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”
When he returned, Maris asked, “Would cash be quicker?” as yet another group came in.
“I’ll be right with you folks,” he said, smiling and passing out more menus.
Maris took out some cash.
“Oh, the cash,” Eugene said, and looked around him. Only then did Maris realize there was no cash register.
Eugene glanced at her, thought for a second, and shook his head. He picked up her order and handed it to her. “I’ll put it on your tab,” he said, then added, “If you don’t mind that is.”
As an older couple exited, the man said, “Best crab salad I’ve ever had. Please give our compliments to the chef.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ll do just that,” Eugene said, beaming at him. “Keep your pepper dry, and we’ll keep our cookers smoking.”
Maris put away her wallet. “I’ll catch up with you later, Eugene. I can see you’re busy. Do put it on my tab.”
He gave her a grateful look. “Thank you, Maris.” As she headed to the door, he called out after her, “Keep your pepper dry.”
She smiled and gave him a quick wave, and then exited to the sidewalk.
“Phew,” she exhaled.
If she and Cookie thought they were busy, Delia’s Smokehouse was setting a new standard. Despite the new employees, Eugene was going to be exhausted at the end of the day.
But as Maris headed back to her car across the busy plaza, she realized two things: the disappearance of the credit card reader was the second missing item in as many visits, and she didn’t have a tab.
3
In the shade of the side porch of the B&B, Maris, Cookie, and Bear settled down for their lunch. Although the B&B’s diminutive chef and their outsized handyman would typically be working in the garden on such a beautiful day, it was all hands on deck when the lightkeeper’s house was full to capacity. Even so, they always made time for lunch. As usual, Maris placed two of the sandwiches in front of Bear, leaving one each for her and Cookie. The fresh lemonade had already been poured.
“Thank you, Maris,” he said, staring at the wrapped subs.
As usual, their handyman’s full beard was
