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The women entered the rustic yet very modern-looking restaurant. The first thing Andrea noticed and truly appreciated was how large and airy the space was. The inside, like the outside, had a rustic feel with its stained wood interior, tables, and chairs. The high gambrel roof also lent to the rustic feel of the place, and she especially liked the low hanging lights on the far corners and ceiling fans in the middle of the rafter beams from front to back that added the right balance between rural and urban style. She also liked the fact that the restaurant could remain lit during the days just from the light streaming through the large glass windows all around the inn. Her father truly had been an artist in disguise. There was not one thing she hated about the design.
“Welcome to Willberry Eats, where we serve nothing but the best freshly caught seafood and a variety of five-star dishes. May I take you to your seats?”
Andrea smiled at the bubbly young waitress whose name tag read “Suzie.”
“Thank you, Suzie. We’ll take a seat close to the back,” Andrea told her.
“Right this way, please.”
The young woman took them to a seat in the back. Although it was not an inconspicuous spot, Andrea appreciated the level of privacy it provided as it was further away from the other tables.
“May I take your order?” the waitress asked, removing a notepad with an attached pen from her side.
“I’ll just have a coffee,” she informed her.
“Me as well,” Shelby jumped in.
“Will that be with cream or without?”
Andrea looked up at the young woman, holding the pen expectantly over the notepad for her response. “With cream,” she smiled.
When the waitress didn’t make a move to go and get their order, Andrea raised her head to see the young woman looking at her curiously— as if she were a puzzle that needed to be solved.
“I’ll go get your order,” she said quickly after being caught.
When she disappeared, Andrea turned her head back to her friend, who was also staring at her in curiosity.
“I take it they don’t know who you are,” Shelby spoke, questioning.
“Not really,” she confirmed. “They might have seen me when I came to my father’s funeral, but that’s just about it.”
“It seems that young lady recognized you, judging by the way she kept staring at you,” Shelby volunteered.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “So, you’re married?”
“Yes, I sure am. Next month will make fifteen years since we tied the knot.”
Just then, the waitress returned with their coffee, a small pitcher of cream, and a sugar shaker.
The two women thanked her before she left them.
“So, what do you do now?” Andrea took a sip of her coffee, waiting for Shelby’s reply.
“Well, I’m a nurse, but I took some time off after I had my third child to spend more time with them,” Shelby informed Andrea, taking a sip of her own coffee. After placing the cup back in the saucer, she delved into her bag, pulling out some pictures.
“This is Ricky, he’s the oldest at fourteen; and Angela, she’s twelve, and this is Isaac, he’s seven.”
Andrea gushed over the photos her friend was showing her of her kids. “They’re beautiful, Shelby,” she complimented.
“Thank you. Do you have kids of your own?”
At this, Andrea’s face lit up with pride. “Yes. Her name is Aurora, or Rory for short.” She opened up her purse to show Shelby a photo of her daughter.
“She’s beautiful,” Shelby expressed, causing an even wider smile to appear on Andrea’s lips.
“She’s my world.”
“I know what you mean,” Shelby agreed. “As much as my kids get on my nerves, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
Andrea raised her cup to toast the statement.
“Ms. Hamilton.”
Andrea turned to see a short, stout man in a gray chef’s jacket standing at their table. “How do you do?” he asked with a deep bow. He had a slight accent, Andrea noted.
“I am well, thank you for asking.” Andrea couldn’t recall ever meeting the man who stood before her beaming, and so she couldn’t put a name to the face.
“I am Chef Daniel, but you can call me Chef.”
