“Well, that answers one question,” Ethan concluded. “I wondered why she was barely looking me in the eye yesterday afternoon and bolted without saying good-night.”
“Yeah, she wasn’t real happy about the wake-up call I delivered in my most fatherly, compassionate way.”
“Did she come to you, or did you take it upon yourself to step in?”
Greg grimaced. “Do I look like the kind of guy who wants to get all tangled up in some woman’s emotional stuff? She came to me, of course. As soon as she opened her mouth, I regretted not having had a drink with lunch.”
Ethan chuckled. “Sorry she put you on the spot.”
“Better me than you,” Greg replied. “At least I have a reputation for diplomacy. You’d probably have ticked her off so bad she’d have quit.”
“Probably,” Ethan agreed.
The door to Ethan’s office opened, and Pam stuck her head in. “Anyone in here planning to see patients today?”
“He will,” Greg said, then grinned at him. “You owe me. I think I’ll go surfing.”
“Surfing? Since when?”
“I thought I’d take it up. I hear you get to see lots of girls in bikinis that way.”
Ethan knew better. Greg’s wife would kill him for looking, much less acting on any wayward impulses.
“You’re going home to crawl back into bed with your wife, aren’t you?” he said, surprisingly envious.
Greg winked. “Could be. I’ll be back to take over by one. Or two.”
“Take your time. Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you for having my back on the Debra thing.”
“Just trying to keep the peace around here,” Greg said.
Ethan laughed. Who knew such a simple thing would turn out to be so tricky?
* * *
Samantha had barely walked in the door at Castle’s-by-the-Sea, where she planned to meet Emily and Gabi to discuss what they were going to do for Emily’s prewedding girls-night celebration, when Cora Jane stopped her and handed her an order book.
“Wait on tables seven and twelve,” she said. “One of the waitresses called in sick. Her replacement’s due in an hour, but we’re already swamped.”
“Sure,” Samantha said. She’d pitched in enough since the hurricane when she and her sisters had first started coming home more regularly to remember the drill. “Any specials?”
“On the chalkboard, like always,” Cora Jane said, clearly harried by the unexpected disruption in her typically smooth-running operation.
Samantha took drink orders for the assigned tables, then headed into the kitchen, where Jerry saw her and lifted a brow.
“Drafted into service?” he asked.
She nodded. “What’s up with Grandmother? Usually having a waitress call in sick doesn’t faze her.”
“Wedding frenzy,” he said succinctly. “She has a thousand things on her mind. I told her to stay home and focus on those, but she told me the day she can’t juggle a few details will be the day she retires. Since I’m all for her realizing she needs to retire, I clamped my mouth shut.”
Samantha nodded. “I’m with you on the retirement thing, but we both know she’ll never do it. In the meantime, though, I will try to get her to head home to concentrate on the wedding. I can stick around for the rest of the lunch rush.”
“Bless you,” he said, and went back to flipping burgers with one hand and giving an occasional stir to a pot of soup with the other.
Samantha placed the food orders for her assigned tables, seated guests at three other tables, then all but dragged Cora Jane aside.
“Go home,” she said quietly. “You’re always the first one to remind us that family takes precedence over everything else. That means Emily’s wedding needs to be your priority, especially since you flatly refused to let her hire a wedding planner and insisted you could handle it. Go home and do that.”
Cora Jane scowled at her. “Jerry put you up to this, didn’t he? He thinks I’m too old to keep so many things straight.” She waved a fistful of papers. “That’s why I keep lists.”
Samantha bit back a smile. “Nobody is saying you’re old. We wouldn’t dare. We just want you to relax and enjoy this wedding. We don’t want you so worn out you sleep through it. Besides, you ordered Dad to get over here. He’s here. Put him to work.”
“What does your father know about planning a wedding?” she scoffed.
“Absolutely nothing,” Samantha said. “Which means you get to boss him around. You’ll love that.”
Cora Jane chuckled at that. “You’re right. That could be fun. Okay, I’ll go if you’re sure you can handle things around here.”
“What I can’t figure out, I’ll ask Jerry or one of the waitresses about. Emily and Gabi are due any minute. I’ll put them to work, too. It’s all good.”
Even with that reassurance, Cora Jane hesitated. “Maybe I should call in another waitress.”
“I’ll be insulted if you do. Now go!”
Cora Jane eyed her suspiciously. “You planning a takeover?”
Samantha laughed. “You wish.”
“Call me if you need me.”
It took another five minutes to coax Cora Jane out the door. By then Samantha was more exhausted than she would have been waiting on a dozen tables.
“Good grief, she’s stubborn,” she muttered to Jerry in passing.
“Part of her charm,” he said, then winked. “Just so you know, all three of you girls got a fair share of that from her. It helps when you’re going after something you want.”
He almost sounded as if he knew that Samantha had something big in mind, but how could he? Gabi wouldn’t have blabbed, and no one else knew.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she picked up an armload of orders and headed back into the dining room.
She knew she had the professional expertise to execute her dream. Now Jerry had reminded her that she more than likely had the grit it would take to make it happen.
But until she’d put a real plan down on paper, she didn’t intend to say a word to anyone. She needed to see the concept laid out in black-and-white, maybe even with a few financial figures attached, before she’d allow herself to believe.
*
