Page 4 of Waves of Time
The bell jangled over the door, and Aria turned to find a familiar sight— her grandmother, Estelle, who wore a beautiful navy summer dress and a pair of sandals. Her big brown bag flung over her shoulder was proof that she’d been out and about, working on one of her novels. She was renowned in the romance community and probably the most famous “celebrity” Aria knew personally.
“Grandma!” Aria hurried forward and hugged her. “What are you doing here?”
Estelle slid her sunglasses over her forehead. “I was just at the coffee shop, editing, and thought I’d step in to see if you were working.”
“I’m always working, Grandma. You know that.”
“That’s my girl,” Estelle said with a laugh. “I don’t suppose I could have a cup of coffee while you work?”
“We don’t have any customers right now,” Aria explained. “I can sit with you for a while if you’d like.”
“What luck!” Estelle said.
Aria poured them both cups of coffee and sat across from her grandmother, asking her questions about her newest book and her favorite characters. Estelle was gracious as she spoke about these fictional worlds as though they actually existed. And then, she said, “I heard from your mother you’re off to San Francisco tomorrow.”
Aria beamed and tucked her hair behind her ears. “She just texted me about it. I can’t believe it. I haven’t been there in ages.”
“Have you told him you’re coming yet?” Estelle asked.
“I texted him. I think he’s in a business meeting or something,” Aria said, again checking her phone.
“He’ll be over the moon,” Estelle assured her, her hand over Aria’s.
Aria wrinkled her nose. “He wasn’t exactly pleased when I told him that I’d dropped out of college.”
“I don’t think you should think too much about that. Parents have a way of projecting their own ideas about their lives onto their children,” Estelle said.
“Did you do that with your kids?” Aria asked.
“Of course! I’m imperfect,” Estelle told her. “Just be patient with him. And it’s not like he has any say in how you live your life, my dear. He wasn’t here while you grew up.”
Not long after that, a family of four from Minnesota entered Robby’s Crab Cabin for early dinner, and Estelle gathered her things and headed home. Aria waved goodbye and set to work, giving The Shean Family a marvelous experience— one they would look back on from the safety of their Minnesotan lives with fondness. As she poured their waters, her coworker, Violet, hurried in, tied up her apron, and prepared for what would surely be a busy night.
“How are you feeling, Aria?” Violet said as she scanned the schedule. “I heard a rumor I’m taking the rest of your shifts this week.”
“Is that okay?” Aria winced.
Violet laughed. “Of course! I’m saving up. The more shifts, the better. You off with your mom somewhere again?”
“San Francisco,” Aria said.
“Wow! How glamorous,” Violet said. Under her breath, she added, “Since you’re so talented at interior design, I don’t see why Robby doesn’t let you redecorate this old place. I mean, how many fishing nets and big wooden barrels does a restaurant need?”
“Apparently, a lot,” Aria said, laughing at the tacky display. Admittedly, most of the tourists adored the decor, as they’d come from all over the world and didn’t necessarily see the ocean every day. But if Aria had decorated the place herself, she would have opted for something else. That was for sure.
One after another, families streamed into the restaurant and grabbed tables, making Violet and Aria leap around crazily, writing their orders on their notepads and flying from the kitchen and back to the dining area like their lives depended on it.
Around nine-thirty that evening, Aria and Violet finally had a chance to catch their breaths. The tables were cluttered with plates, glasses, and napkins, but all the tourists had left, headed out for ice cream or back to their hotels. This meant they could limp through clean-up, maybe serving one or two tables before they closed at ten-thirty.
“That was a doozy,” Violet said as she removed her tips from her apron and began to count them out across the counter. “My knees started screaming around eight and never stopped.”
“You two are only twenty-one years old!” Robby called from the back. “Wait till you’re as old as me.”
Violet and Aria locked eyes and made faces, then burst into quiet giggles. They weren’t exactly fond of their boss, who, they felt, didn’t listen to their needs and often blamed them for things that went wrong that could have been avoided if he was a better owner. Still, there was something about this job that they both liked— the money, the families, and the company of each other and their coworkers.
And, of course, there was Thaddeus.
Thaddeus Mitchell came into Robby’s Crab Cabin just about every evening. He was twenty-four years old with curly brown hair, a scruffy beard, strong shoulders, and a smile that made her weak in the knees (which, she knew, was a cliché but very true).