Page 33 of Changing Tides
Shane O’Dwyer waved from the other side of the harbor. Joey waved back and hoped he wouldn’t approach. They hadn’t come up with an alternative to selling to the distributor, but they didn’t want their dad to hear Shane’s teasing about selling their catch so cheaply. The hill up to Doc’s house and surgery was too steep to attempt with their dad, especially since they were now running late, so they bundled him into the van and took the winding uphill lane to the surgery.
Doc’s long-suffering receptionist, Maura, swung open the heavy wooden door. With her frizzy bun of silver hair, she had a harried look and Joey worried she was overworked running thebusy surgery alone for her eccentric boss. But her utter devotion to Doc was evident.
“How are you, Michael? Doctor Scott is waiting for you.”
“I’m well enough, Maura. No need for this fuss.”
Joey rolled their eyes over their dad’s head and steered him into Doc’s surgery.
“Michael! How the devil are you?” Doc jumped up from behind her expansive wooden desk. “Come and have a sit down and tell me how you’ve been feeling.” She waved him to a chair and sat next to him, leaving Joey to pull up a chair from the back of the room.
They let their dad speak to Doc, interjecting only when he tried to play down the persistent cough he’d had for over a week. “It’s not better, Dad. It’s getting worse. You’ve got a wheeze now.”
Doc gave him a thorough examination. “Joey’s right, you’ve got the beginnings of a chest infection there, Michael. I’m going to give you a week of antibiotics, and I’ll come over and check on you when they’re finished.”
“Thanks, Doctor. I don’t like to complain.”
At least not about his health. He was content to complain about Joey’s cooking, decision-making, and pretty much anything they did.
Doc caught their eye over their dad’s head. “You’re lucky to have such an attentive child to keep an eye on you, aren’t you, Michael?”
“She’s not too bad, I suppose. Better than those boys, who never come to see me.”
Joey shook their head at Doc’s concerned frown. They’d long given up on correcting their dad’s misgendering. It didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t worth the emotional toll of explaining over and over, and being told, “I’m your father. I know who you are.”
“Donal and Liam will be here in a few weeks, Dad. And they ring you every Sunday.” A rare occasion when their dad spoke about them favorably, and here they were defending their brothers. “Now, let’s get you down the hill for your fish and chips.”
Doc handed over the prescription with a wink. “I’ll see you in a week, Michael.”
Joey drove their dad down to the Harbor Bar and listened while he muttered about the quality of the fish, comparing it to the catch he used to bring in. They guessed he was enjoying himself, in his own way. There was no one to complain to when he was sitting alone at home.
Their thoughts drifted back to business, or lack of it. They needed to do something decisive. If they kept doing what they did, the only choice was to catch more and sell it to distributors, and that wasn’t what they wanted. The experimental oyster bed had proven itself, so maybe now was the time to invest what little savings they had. Do a little more training in oyster aquaculture. A course was starting soon that Joey’d been offered a place on. It was mostly online learning, but there was a residential week later in the year. They wondered if they could manage to get their dad looked after for a week.
“So, are we just going to sit here all day?” Their dad’s voice broke Joey from their thoughts.
They sat back with a sigh. “I’ll take you home now, Dad, then I need to get out to the pots.” When were they ever going to have time for education? Maybe it was just a silly daydream.
FOURTEEN
Tom was an adequate head chef,Marianne decided after two days of shadowing him. His menus were varied, if not adventurous, and he was well-liked by his team.
Marianne suspected she would have to work hard to gain the same level of loyalty from her staff, but she’d lead them to be better chefs in the long run.
She followed him around the kitchen as he finished dishes and served them to the hatch. She’d have had her chefs do most of that, but she remembered this was a different setup. While she had fewer team members, she was expected to deliver a much higher volume of covers. She really would be adding garnishes herself.
She reminded herself this was her decision and took a slow breath.
“Is everything to your liking, Chef?”
“Yes, you run an efficient kitchen. Well done, Tom.”
He blushed and Marianne felt a warmth that her approval still meant something within the industry.
“I’ll be sorry to leave. I’ve got an interview for the job at Spencer’s next week.”
Marianne was impressed with his ambition. She wondered if he was ready for that level of responsibility. “I saw they were advertising for a head chef. It’s a good restaurant.” Despite being resolute she wasn’t returning to her hometown just yet, she had been looking at the job vacancies.
Tom appeared to be waiting for something.
