Page 39 of A Breeze Over Rosewood Beach
Sally looked up, momentarily surprised to see him, and then she grinned. “Oh, who knows? I’m buying what looks good and then I’ll let my heart lead when it’s time to cook.”
Oscar blinked in surprise. “You’re shopping without a plan?”
“Of course,” she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Sometimes the best meals are the ones you don’t overthink.”
He shook his head, and he couldn’t help smiling. Sally seemed to have a whimsical attitude about everything, and he liked the way she found joy in the smallest things. It was something he’d noticed about her from the very beginning, but each time he encountered her, it caught him a little off guard. It was as if she offered herself a kind of freedom that he’d never allowed himself.
“I’m not sure I could do that,” Oscar admitted. “I’d need a list, maybe even a spreadsheet. I find comfort in having a plan.”
Sally laughed. “Sure, but there’s magic in making it up as you go.”
He smiled again. He realized that he was smiling in Rosewood Beach almost ten times as often as he’d smiled in New York. “How’s Ocean Breeze Café doing? Busy?”
She shifted the basket to her other arm. “Very busy! We’ve been getting a lot of weekend traffic, more than usual for winter. That’s mostly a good thing, but it’s always a little sad when people leave because we can’t seat them right away. We just don’t have space for more booths.”
Oscar thought for a moment. “You know, you could get pagers. Like the ones they use in bigger restaurants. Those give people a timeline and a chance to walk around while they wait. It’s a small investment, but it could keep people from giving up on a table.” He spoke faster and more intensely as he became more excited about the idea.
Sally blinked, clearly considering it. “That’s a really good idea, thank you, Oscar.”
“I hope you don’t mind me suggesting,” he said, suddenly wondering that he’d said too much. He didn’t want to overstep, and just because she’d accepted his help once didn’t give himfree rein to offer her suggestions all the time. “The idea just popped into my mind.”
She waved him off, smiling warmly. “Don’t apologize. I appreciate your input. It’s very helpful.”
There was a brief, comfortable pause between them. Sally beamed at him and Oscar realized that he was getting abnormally warm. He cleared his throat, surprising himself with his next question. “So, what’s your plan for the rest of the day?”
Her eyes lit up. “Well, I was heading back to the café to make some lunch—I have the place to myself since we’re closed today. Then I’ll probably spend the afternoon doing the books.” She hesitated, and then added, “Actually, would you like to come along? We could experiment with what I just bought and see what kind of delicious chaos we can create in the kitchen.”
Oscar’s knee-jerk reaction was to decline. He knew he would probably embarrass himself if he and Sally cooked together. She probably thought he was some kind of competent, impressive man after he’d helped her with her business. If he tried to cook with her, she would soon realize that there were plenty of areas in life in which he was far from competent.
As soon as he opened his mouth, however, he knew that he couldn’t say no.
“I’d like to very much,” he said.
“Wonderful.” She grinned at him. “Do you still have some shopping left to do?”
“Uh—I just need some toothpaste.” He decided in that moment that he could get his groceries later. He didn’t want to hold up his plans with Sally for even a few minutes.
He purchased a tube of toothpaste while Sally paid for her groceries, even though he had stocked up on two months’ worth of toothpaste the week before. He and Sally met at the front of the store and arranged to drive their cars over to the café.
It’ll be strange to see the café without any people in it,he thought as he drove along the snowy streets toward the little restaurant.But I’m excited to watch Sally cook. And to get a decent meal today, instead of something frozen.
He arrived at the café and parked his car next to Sally’s bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
“Are you ready to make some magic?” Sally asked him as they stepped inside the empty restaurant together.
“I’m ready to watch you make some magic,” Oscar answered honestly, and Sally laughed.
Oscar followed her into the kitchen, curious to see the space he’d never been allowed into before. It was cozy and brightly colored, but also meticulously organized and spotlessly clean.
“Do you cook much?” she asked him, rummaging through her bag and lining the counters with heirloom tomatoes, fresh basil, and a loaf of bread.
“I would have to say no to that,” Oscar said, remembering what had happened with the eggs he’d tried to make when he’d first arrived in Rosewood Beach. “A long time ago I cooked a little, but I always followed a recipe very carefully.”
Sally laughed, the sound light and musical. “Well, today’s a no-recipe day. We’re going to let the ingredients tell us what they want to become.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow but found himself smiling. “Does that work?”
“Only always.”
