Mary Brady - Better Than Gold

Mia leaned forward, put her stockinged feet on the floor and clutched a frilly chartreuse throw pillow to her chest.

“What happened this time?” The threat Edwin Beaudin, a longtime widower, had been making since Monique’s mother had died two years ago weighed heavily on his granddaughter.

“There’s a for-sale sign on the Calvins’ lobster boat. You can guess how it went after he saw that. Says he might as well give up bee-un ah Main-ah.” Monique used her grandfather’s heavy Maine accent. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he goes. I wish I still had Mom. He’d stay for her.”

Mia’s heart ached, but...” Maybe you and I will have to make him stay.”

“You know my granddad. He’s more stubborn than you are.”

“That’s what I’m depending on.”

“You have an idea?” Monique’s expression brightened and so did Mia’s heart.

“I have a skeleton, and a crew that needs a nanny. What if he still felt like he was a necessary part of the Bailey’s Cove community?” When Edwin Beaudin lost first his wife and then his daughter, he lost the will to battle the elements, pollution, poachers and the competition for the ever-dwindling supply of fish and lobster. “And I need the shoulder of a big strong man to lean on.”

“You?” Monique laughed out loud. “Need a shoulder to lean on?”

“I’m glad I’m so amusing.”

“Well, you’re so ‘I can do it myself’ that I never thought I’d ever...ever...ever hear you say those words. Lean on someone, especially a man and especially after Rory.”

“I’d like to think I’ve forgiven myself for agreeing to marry a guy who would give me a ring he paid for with my money and have the guts to ask for it back when he changed his mind.”

“I’m sure you think you have, honey, but trust me, you still don’t lean on anyone for anything.”

“I lean on you.”

“That’s because I feed you.”

“There is that.” Mia put her elbows on her knees again. “But besides fishing or hauling in a big lobsta for his granddaughter and her friend, what does Edwin Beaudin like better than to rescue someone?”

“Nothing. He’s been rescuing me my whole life.” Monique’s big blue eyes opened wider in dawning comprehension.

“Do you think he’d be interested in supervising those three workers for me, keeping Charlie out of the bar? I can’t pay him much up front, but as a former boat captain, he can keep a crew in line.”

“He might.”

Mia felt some of the same tentative hope she heard in Monique’s voice.

Monique’s shoulders sagged again.

“What?”

“Granddad’s right about so many of the old-timers leaving. What if he’s right about getting out of town, building a life of some kind away from here? What if it is time to give up?”

“Giving up on Bailey’s Cove means, giving up our hometown having a place in Maine’s heritage. All we’d have left are the fading memories. No one would care or, after a while, even remember the folks who worked so hard to make this a viable town, your ancestors and mine. At least half the people in Bailey’s Cove have a relative who settled somewhere around here.”

“But do you think it’s worth it to beat yourself up to get the restaurant finished? Wouldn’t it be easier to leave it all behind?”

“I’ve been out there in the world and there is truly no place like home. No place like home.” She clicked her stockinged heels together. “And I plan on fighting for it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“And I know for sure my workers need an overseer because I can’t be there every minute. Finding a skeleton in the wall is not going to make them work more diligently. If it’s okay with you, I’ll ask your granddad.”

“He’ll clamor to help you, at least for a while.”

“For a while is good enough for now. A Mainer stays in Maine unless there is a really compelling reason to leave. He’s a Main-ah right through to his salty old core.”

Monique pushed up from the chair and carried the tray to the kitchen. “I should be reassured by that, ’cause it’s hard to imagine him on a golf course or a beach somewhere under a palm tree with an umbrella drink in his hand.”

Monique returned with a bowl of grapes glistening with water and another bottle of wine. After pouring them each another glass, she plopped down on the couch and brushed her flowing blond locks back with the crook of her arm. “Why do I have to lose everybody in my life?”

“I came back.”

“You did, and I love you for that.” Monique held a grape in her mouth, making her cheek puff out. “Do you think Pirate’s Cove will make enough of a difference?”

“A small one.” One of the things Mia loved about Monique was her friend’s penchant for asking the hard questions. “But we have to start, to invest time and sweat equity somewhere, to regrow our town. I’d say money, but right now it’s the bank in Portland’s money, not mine.”

“Do you suppose the police’ll call you tonight with any news?”

“I don’t know what the procedure is. I don’t know if they’ll call me at all. If they don’t, the chief will get a new desk ornament. Me.”

“You’re such a toughie.” Monique plucked another grape from the bowl and ate it.

“And you’re such a girly-girl.” To make her point, Mia tossed a pillow with a beaded pink ruffle at her friend.

“What do you suppose will happen with the bones?”

“I don’t know. I guess they have to determine how old they are before anything is decided. I just hope they get them out of my wall quickly.”

Monique hugged the pillow and grinned. “I know what we need to take our minds off everything else.”

Mia waved both hands in the air. “No. No. Not your favorite subject.”

“Men!” Monique said and then gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Ha!” Mia leaned back and put her head against the crocheted doily draped over the back of the matching mauve chair. “Men. Had ’em, don’t need ’em.”

“You got robbed. That rat Rory should still be here.”

“Yes. I did and he should. But since I had it all and lost it—twice—”

“I wonder—” Monique put a finger to her chin “—if you’d still say that if another good man came along and rang your bell.”

“I’d ring his bell right back and send him from whence he came.”

“Whence?”

Mia expelled an unenthusiastic huff. “I’m fine just the way I am. Maybe if I want a man, I’ll go after Chief Montcalm.”

“He’s gotta be your dad’s age.”

“What about Rufus’s baby brother? He’s neither attached nor too old.”

“He just left for college, so that’d make you a cradle robber.”

Mia slapped the knee of the clean jeans she’d put on after her shower. “Well, that about exhausts the supply of men here in the Bailey’s Cove area. I think that’s why I moved back here. I wanted a peaceful life.”

Monique snorted. “So, that seems to be going really well.”

“Skeleton aside, in a few short weeks, I’m going to have the best restaurant for a hundred miles. I’ll have tourists clamoring for a meal as they head north and then again when they head south and I’ll have a nice cozy mortgage and a nice fat business loan to keep me warm.”

“You’ll get the chance to work even more hours in a day than you do now. You’ll have even more employees to keep on their toes, and more—”

Monique’s front doorbell gave its usual unenthusiastic dong-dong.

“Am I being saved by the bell?” Mia asked.

“That’s gotta be for you,” Monique said without any indication that she intended to get up. “Granddad’s already safely perched on his barstool for the evening and you’re here. That’s the entire list of people who might want to talk to me this late on a Tuesday night.”