Page 48 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
Before Marin could offer a more diplomatic answer, Daisy shot back, “You wouldn’t need to wait, would you? And for your information, one of your uncle’s friends bought the place and ran it into the ground. Poof, onto the next town institution they can ruin.”
Understanding seemed to dawn on Candace. She knew the games her uncle and his rich friends played. With the right maneuvering, with their holdings under shell corporations or patsies, people like that could make money strip mining and bankrupting businesses. They were greedy vultures, unlike Marin, who had worked for everything she had.
The fisherwoman continued.
“It’s a kick in the teeth. Mort’s was my last big customer left. Between that and all the other headaches in my life, I think it’s about time I cut anchor. My daughter has a room for me, and with the minnows needing babysitting, it’ll work out for both of us. You understand, dear.”
Through a mouth that had gone desert-dry, Daisy managed, “Yeah.”
“Sorry. I wanted ya to hear it from me.” In a nervous rush, she added, “Now, I know you don’t like to go off-island, but I have a friend who owns a market right across the bay. He doesn’t have quite the same stock, and he might not be able to cut you as much of a deal, but—”
“I’ll figure it out,” Daisy snapped. She regretted her tone seeing Marin’s hurt, but could not help it as white-hot panic flooded her veins. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Saying a quick goodbye, Daisy fled from the fish market and all but ran for her cart. She did not look back to see if Candace followed, but heard the woman scramble behind her.
It felt as if a black cloud followed them the entire drive back to the house. Occasionally, Candace would try to make small talk, commenting on places or pedestrians they passed. Daisy, though, was lost deep in thought.
One of her earliest memories was of going to Marin’s with her mom. Clear as day, she remembered picking out the meanest, snappiest crabs for dinner… How Marin, with far less salt and pepper in her hair, gave Daisy a glittery rubber worm tackle that caught her eye… How she and her mom nearly flooded the kitchen when the boiling pot toppled, which ruined part of the linoleum floor.
That was a long time ago.
If Marin’s closed, she would have to say goodbye to some core menu items. Norman was going to be heartbroken. Even if, and it was a bigif, she could manage to get her ass over the bridge, there was no way she could afford even a slight price hike.
Why couldn’t things just stay the same?
Every time Daisy got used to the status quo, or thought she might have figured it out, some new, fresh hell emerged to complicate her life. Something had to give soon.
Right?
Ahead, the street light turned red, and Daisy was so preoccupied she did not notice. She kept her foot on the gas, barrelling right for the intersection.
“Daisy!!”
Candace’s yell brought Daisy back to Earth. As she slammed on the brakes, the cart came to a lurching stop. Most of their groceries were thankfully locked in the cooler compartment, but a loose bag of apples went flying. The bottom-only seatbelts kept the women in place, but their upper halves still jerked forward. Were it not for Candace’s quick reflexes, Daisy might have broken her nose on the steering wheel. Instead, the woman brought her forearm up to block the impact, and they both yelped in mutual pain.
“What the hell?!”
“You were going to miss the light!”
“No,” Daisy growled, “your arm! Are you stupid? I could’ve broken it! I didn’t… Did I?”
A pained grimace was plastered on Candace’s face, and sheheld her battered arm close. Even so, she shook her head. “I’m fine. Are you okay? You’ve been spacing out the whole drive.”
Daisy wanted to respond with a snappy retort. A flippant quip to dispel the sudden, very palpable tension. But Candace was not clueless. She could read the situation even if Daisy did not say it.
Another, smaller part of Daisy also whispered that Candace needed to know how this would affect business. She might even be able to help and, damn her, Daisywantedit. She was relieved to finally have someone else to share the burden of figuring things out. The realization hit her with more force than the break slam.
Before Daisy could say any of that, a car horn behind them blared.
“Rude,” Candace shouted back. To Daisy, she asked, “Want me to go ruin their day?”
Daisy started driving. “How? You’ll send ‘em to a dungeon, princess?”
“The pierdoeshave a holding cell for roughhousers and drunks. It’s nice and moldy.”
“Yeah? You’re cute when you’re scary, you know that?”
Almost too quiet to hear, Candace countered, “I’malwayscute.”
