Her All Along

The plan was for us to walk over to the marina and have dinner at Darius’s restaurant in a little while.

It was good, ’cause I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

It would be difficult to get time with Elise if my daughter kept hogging her. On the way to the marina, Grace and Elise acted like they were the only two people in the world, chasing each other around, making funny faces, and hugging. If it weren’t so fucking cute, I would’ve protested.

Whenever Grace demanded to be picked up, it seemed to be because she wanted to touch Elise’s face. As if she needed to make sure Pipsqueak still wasn’t trapped behind a laptop, Grace cupped Elise’s cheeks, smushed them together, poked at her nose, and grinned when she was satisfied. She smooched Elise too. Then she wanted down once more.

In the meantime, I walked with Ethan, and we lamented being the only ones who’d dressed up for the occasion. Though, I suspected Ethan was a lot more serious than I was. I didn’t care about James wearing flannel or Lias wearing sweatpants.

“I’m just saying,” Ethan went on, “looking like they give a shit wouldn’t kill them.”

I chuckled and shook my head. Ethan cared too much. Besides, at the end of the day, I’d probably regret choosing a white button-down. I’d folded the sleeves so Grace wouldn’t grab on to them with her constantly dirty fingers, but she’d find other ways to sling food on me. She was lethal with a spoon in her hand.

Evelina met up with us at the marina, having just gotten off work, and she got a hug from Pipsqueak.

What was I, chopped liver?

“Where’s Willow?” Evelina asked curiously.

“It was too much for her,” Mary replied.

“She and I will have our own reunion.” Pipsqueak smiled and squinted up at the sign that read Quinn’s Fish Camp. The outdoor seating season had begun, and all those tables were full. “I can’t believe he actually did it. I love the sign!”

Yeah, it fit. According to the interior decorator who’d come in for a consultation, the answer was sea glass. Sea glass and tealights had been the finishing touch before Darius had opened the doors. There was art on the walls too, old maps and photographs of the marina, fishing boats, and crews.

We made our way inside, and Darius was easy to find. He stood behind the bar, talking to another bartender while they poured beer into several glasses.

Darius grinned lazily when he spotted Elise. “Look who finally remembered where she’s from.” Then he clapped the other guy on his shoulder. “All right, you’re in charge for a couple hours.” He nodded for us to veer right toward the dining room, where almost all the tables were full. It made me happy for him. He’d opened strong.

One big table in the middle of the area was reserved for us, and someone had already prepared a booster seat for Grace.

“If there’s no spot next to Grace, I will resort to bitch slaps,” Pipsqueak warned somewhere behind me.

Well, I was taking one of them. I could tell that Ethan and Lias considered their options, but there was no way they believed it was worth it.

By the time I’d picked up Grace and put her in the seat, they’d found their own spots on the other side of the round table.

Smart guys.

As always when meeting up with the Quinns, you had to tune out the background noise, because at least three people were constantly chatting—loudly. Mary chastised Lias and Ethan for arguing about some game, James felt the need to retell the story of how his father had wanted to become a chef but the family farm had needed him—a story we’d heard more than once since Darius had opened the restaurant with a handful of his grandfather’s old recipes—and Pipsqueak babbled with Grace.

“We’ve heard the story, Pop,” Darius chuckled.

“I’m just sayin’ it’s a nice tribute,” James replied defensively. “Oh, and fuck farm life. The farm turned that man into a ragin’ alcoholic.”

“Speaking of, may I have wine?” Elise asked.

Ethan and I cracked up at her timing.

Darius furrowed his brow. “Did you turn twenty-one in San Francisco?”

Pipsqueak sighed.

I accepted a menu as two waitresses appeared, one of whom poured everyone’s water. Mary and I were probably the only ones who listened to the server introducing herself, but Darius told the rest to pipe down so we could hear the two specials.

“Oof, I’ll have that last one,” I said. Grilled salmon, garlic shrimp, asparagus, lemon, and mashed potatoes with butter—I was going to inhale my meal. Most of the others ordered the same, and while Ethan customized his dish to remove basically everything that tasted good, I found two side dishes I knew Grace liked here. Lobster mac and fish sticks. Only, I wasn’t allowed to call them fish sticks because Darius considered that a smear campaign against his carefully selected, best-of-the-best products.