Children of the Sea 02 - Sea Fever

looked over. “You all right?”
     
    “Fine,” she said, examining her white fingers. She’d only caught a nail this time, under the knife’s edge. No blood, no foul.
     
    No blood.
     
    She’d run to the bathroom three times to check, as if the act of pulling down her underpants could somehow transform the sweat of the kitchen into good news: Not pregnant.
     
    She needed to go to Rockland and buy a damn test.
     
    She needed to keep her mind on her work. She loved cooking, took a deep satisfaction in feeding people. But there was no challenge in it anymore. No distraction. She could prepare this menu blindfolded.
     
    “If I never fried another clam or made another lobster roll, I could be happy,” she muttered.
     
    “You’d be happy, and we’d be out of business,” Antonia said.
    “Order up.”
     
    72
    Eventually, the line of tickets shortened. The dining room cleared as customers returned to their boats, vacations, lives.
     
    “God, I need a cigarette,” Antonia said and went out by the Dumpster to smoke.
     
    Regina garnished the last two orders: lettuce, tomato, a slice of red onion. As she set the plates on the pass, she glanced again at the door.
    Tall man. Dark hair. Just for a moment the pressure eased. Dylan?
     
    But it was only Caleb, standing with his weight on his good leg, talking to Margred.
     
    “Get you anything?” Regina asked. “Cup of coffee?”
     
    His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Coffee would be good.”
     
    She carried the mug out to him while Margred served the last table.
     
    “Thanks.” Caleb took the cup; watched her over the rim. “Maggie tells me you hired that homeless guy you’ve been feeding.”
     
    Regina jerked her mind from one set of worries to another. “I’m thinking about it. You said he checked out.”
     
    “He doesn’t have a record. He still has issues.”
     
    She cocked her chin, on the defensive. “You mean, besides needing a job and a place to live?”
     
    Caleb sipped his coffee. “There’s an encampment,” he said abruptly.
    “Homeless guys, vets mostly, out at the old quarry.”
     
    Her mouth opened. Shut without a sound. A camp? Of homeless vets. On World’s End?
     
    Margred finished her table.
     
    “I’ve been by there once or twice,” Caleb continued. “Keeping an eye out. Took one of them to the clinic this afternoon to see Doc Tomah.”
     
    “So?”
     
    73
    “He had headaches. Delusions.” Caleb’s gaze locked with his wife’s.
    “Claimed he was possessed by the devil.”
     
    Margred sucked in her breath.
     
    “Uh-huh,” Regina said. Why was he telling her this?
     
    “What did you do?” Margred asked.
     
    “The doctor prescribed Haldol. And I drove him back to camp.”
     
    “You have to tell Dylan,” Margred said.
     
    “I plan to.” Caleb’s voice was grim.
     
    “Where is Dylan?” Regina wanted to know.
     
    Caleb’s gaze switched back to her face, but she got the impression he didn’t actually see her. Story of her life, really. “Damned if I know.”
     
    Typical. Unreliable, typical male.
     
    “Reggie.” Caleb’s eyes sharpened. His voice was gentle. “Is there something going on? Is there a reason you want to hire this guy, this Jericho?”
     
    Yes. No.
     
    I could be pregnant. With your brother’s child.
     
    Definitely, No.
     
    She shrugged. “We’re really busy right now. I could use some help.”
     
    “Lucy,” Margred said.
     
    Caleb frowned thoughtfully.
     
    Regina shook her head. “I don’t need a waitress. I need somebody to do the dirty work.”
     
    “Lucy’s not afraid of work,” Caleb said. “Or dirt.”
     
    74
    Margred nodded. “And she’s strong.”
     
    “On her college track team,” Caleb said with pride.
     
    “She’d make more money sterning for your father,” Regina felt obliged to point out.
     
    “Lucy hates the water,” Margred said.
     
    “Talk to her,” Caleb said. “I’ll tell her to stop by.”
     
    “That would be . . . good,” Regina decided. She smiled. “Thanks.”
     
    Caleb did not smile back. “Just take care of yourself.”
     
    Regina fingered the cross at her neck. “I’m trying.”
     
    With one eye on the clock and the other on the entrance,she tackled the evening prep, chalked the day’s specials on the board, boiled and boxed a dozen lobster orders for pickup.
     
    And every time a tall, dark man crossed the threshold, her heart jangled like the bell above the door.
     
    But it was