Three other groups of diners were sitting at tables on the patio outside the cafe when they arrived. Kate led him to a small round table near the doors leading inside and sat down on one of the chairs. He took another across from her.
Randall looked around but didn’t see any menus. “Should we go inside to order?”
“Someone will be out in a moment. So what would you normally eat for breakfast?”
Randall thought it over before answering. “Normally I would pick up a breakfast sandwich on my way to work. Something I could eat on the go without much fuss, like a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit.”
Kate’s head tilted a bit to the side. “I’d ask what that is, but I get the feeling it’s all there in the name.”
“You’ve never had one?” asked Randall.
“No, for me it’s usually oatmeal with bits of fresh fruit.”
“You should try making one sometime. They can be a bit greasy, but they taste really good.”
She leaned forward and eyed him suspiciously. “This isn’t like those rolls you were telling me about, with cabbage baked inside?”
Randall laughed. “No, there’s no cabbage.”
She relaxed and said, “Then it can’t be that bad.”
Behind Randall, the door to the cafe opened and a waiter emerged. He wore black trousers and a white button-up shirt with a dark apron tied around his waist. His brown hair had been parted in the middle and pulled back into a short ponytail. He was around average height for a young man and skinny. He placed two sets of silverware wrapped in cloth napkins on the table then handed them each a menu.
“Kate, you look lovely as always,” he said with a slight accent. “So glad you could join us this morning.”
“Thank you, Vincent.” She held out her hand, indicating Randall. “This is the young man who was on the ferry.”
“Randall Thompson,” he said.
Vincent bowed his head. “Welcome, I had heard there was another besides the boat’s captain, and I am glad to see you were uninjured. But you are here for breakfast, so let me tell you the specials. This morning, we have a quiche tart made with gruyere.” He moved his hands as he spoke, holding his fingers to his mouth. “It is magnificent, and likely won’t be on the menu for a while, as we don’t expect to be receiving any imported cheese in the near future. Now, what can I get you to drink?”
“I’d like an orange juice,” said Kate.
“Of course.” Vincent turned to Randall. “And for you?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“I’ll bring them out momentarily,” said Vincent. “Since this is your first visit, please take your time with the menu.”
Vincent bowed again then walked inside.
“I couldn’t place his accent,” Randall said once the waiter had left. “Where is he from?”
“His parents are from France,” said Kate. “They run the cafe. Vincent and his younger sister were born there, although they’ve lived on Haven ever since they were children. Desiree’s accent is so slight, you probably won’t even notice it. Unless she gets angry, then the accent comes out a bit.”
Randall picked up the menu and scanned the two pages inside. Most of the names were in French, so he wasn’t sure exactly what they were.
“What are you thinking about ordering?” asked Kate after he’d had a minute to decide.
“I think I’ll try the quiche he mentioned when he took our drink order.” He had heard of quiche before at least, along with one other item on the menu. “And I’ll try some of their croissants with it.”
“I was thinking about the quiche myself. He did say it was magnificent, and Vincent knows his cuisine.” After a moment, she added, “Though I’m sure it’s no bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit.”
He glanced up to see her smirking at him, which she quickly covered with her menu.
“Fine, I’ll admit I ate out a lot, but I had a pretty demanding job,” said Randall. “I didn’t have much time to cook for myself.”
“You’re in for a treat then. Mr. Boucher is a professionally trained French chef. All the food here is really good.”
Vincent returned with two glasses of juice and took their food order. While they waited, they made small talk about the town. Remembering the message he’d received about looking for other opportunities on the island, he asked what Kate liked to do when she wasn’t helping out at her father’s store.
“I help Mom take care of the plants in our little garden,” she replied. “But I much prefer to grow flowers. All the ones around our house, and many that are sold at the store were grown by me.”
Randall could see a corner of the house from where he was seated. A wooden planter was hanging from the base of the one window he could see. It was practically bursting with green leaves that spread out in every direction, although the flowers had yet to bloom.
“What’s your secret?” he asked.
Kate looked around, and although there were no other diners at the tables near theirs, she leaned in close enough to whisper. “I sing to the plants.”
Randall laughed at the image in his head, of her standing beside the window and singing to the flowers. Kate pursed her lips and sat back with her arms crossed.
“Sorry,” said Randall. “From what I can see, it must be working. I just couldn’t imagine myself doing that.”
“Well it’s not like I do it loudly or for an audience.”
“Any tips for those of us who can’t carry a tune?” he asked.
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“I don’t think they care how well you sing. It’s mostly about the love and attention you’re showing. But my biggest tip would be to not overwater the flowers. They don’t need as much as vegetables, and giving them too much water can be worse than giving them too little.”
“That’s a good tip,” said Randall, and then he remembered the woman at the town hall and the trouble she had keeping her flowers alive. “You should tell that to Jessica. She seemed to be having trouble with the daffodil she was trying to grow when I visited the town hall.”
Kate shook her head. “Poor Jessica. Each spring she comes to the store and buys some seeds, sure that this will be the year she figures out how to get the flowers to grow. I think her biggest problem is she neglects them. She forgets about them for days at a time, and when they wilt, so waters them constantly. She’s basically drowning them at that point, but it’s too late.”
Their food came out, and they talked little while eating, other than Randall’s surprise at how good his meal was. He hadn’t expected a small cafe on an island in the middle of nowhere to have such exquisite food.
Halfway through their meal, a young woman wearing a similar uniform of black slacks, a white blouse, and small apron came out and collected some of the dishes left by diners who had finished their meals. She had short auburn hair with blond highlights and a petite frame. It was hard to tell her height since she was bending over to collect dirty plates, but Randall guessed she was only a little over five feet tall.
Eventually, she stood and scanned the other tables, her eyes stopping when she saw them. She walked over quickly.
“Kate!” said the waitress. “I’ve told Vincent a hundred times to let me know when you are eating on the patio. Still, he never tells me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Kate. “We came to celebrate, and I forgot to let you know I was here. Desiree handles the tables inside the shop while Vincent takes those outside.”
Desiree glanced at him then made a sound like a cat purring. She leaned closer against the table and asked, “Who’s your handsome friend?”
Randall blushed, then looked around because he wasn’t entirely sure she was talking about him. Both women burst out laughing.
“This is Randall,” said Kate. “He was on the ferry before it crashed in the storm. I found him on the beach near the lighthouse.”
“You have all the luck, Kate. The only pretty things I find on the beach are seashells.” She winked at Randall. “Better hope Liam doesn’t see the two of you here together. He’s the jealous type.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started on Liam.”
Desiree looked at their plates and asked, “How was your breakfast?”
“It was really good,” said Randall. “The quiche was really savory, and the croissants were so light and flaky, they felt like they were going to float away.”
“That’s quite the review for someone who could barely speak a second ago,” said Desiree. “But I’ll let my father know. He always enjoys hearing good reviews from our customers.”
“Yes, it was quite good,” said Kate. “Tell Mr. Boucher the gruyere in the quiche was amazing.”
“And listen to another rant about how the only ‘so-called cheese’ he’ll be able to get going forward is cheddar?” Desiree shook her head. “No thank you. Still, I’ll let him know you enjoyed it.”
At the lull in the conversation, Randall said, “I was just asking Kate about her hobbies. What do you do for fun around here?”
“I spend my free time on the beach whenever the weather is nice.”
“Do you go swimming?”
“Sometimes in the summer. I find the water to be a little too cold for my liking any other time. Mostly I lay on the beach and read a book.”
“Desiree has read every romance novel in our little library’s collection,” said Kate.
“Most of them twice,” added Desiree. “I don’t suppose you brought a suitcase full of new books with you?”
“Sorry, but I arrived with just the clothes I was wearing.”
“Too bad. If reading’s not your thing, my brother does a lot of fishing.” She glanced at the table she’d been clearing and sighed. “I have to take those dishes back to be cleaned. I’ll come over to the store when things slow down after lunch, Kate. We can gossip.” She said the last bit looking at Randall.
Kate smiled. “Looking forward to it.”
To Randall, she said, “Be sure to come inside and see me next time you visit our cafe.” She raised an eyebrow then turned to walk away, swaying her hips as she went.
Once she’d gone back inside, Randall said, “She’s quite the flirt.”
“It’s those books she reads,” Kate said. “Also, she thinks it gets her better tips. She’s probably not wrong.”
They finished eating their meals, and shortly after Vincent returned with a smaller menu in his hand.
“Desiree said you’d enjoyed your meals,” said Vincent. “Can I interest you in some dessert or coffee?”
Kate looked at Randall and waited for him to answer.
“Sadly, I think I need to head back to the farm.” They had been rather leisurely about eating their meal, and the sun was now high up in the sky. “I bought some seeds I’d like to plant today.”
“Perhaps another time,” said Vincent. “Kate, anything else for you?”
“I should probably get back to the store.” To Randall, Kate said, “Give me a moment to go inside and pay. I’ll be right back.”
Vincent held the door open for Kate. While he gathered their dirty cups and plates, Randall brought up the topic of fishing.
“Do you enjoy fishing?” asked Vincent.
“Honestly,” said Randall, “I’ve not done it much in the past. I tried a couple times on family vacations when I was a kid.”
“I’d offer to show you how it’s done, but I rarely catch anything myself. Still it’s relaxing to sit by the water and wait for the fish to bite. My advice would be to get yourself a rod and some bait, then see what sort of luck you have. Although I did hear there was a tourist who came to Haven and ended up in a similar situation to you, stranded here because the ferry no longer runs. They’re supposed to be quite skilled at fishing. Perhaps they would teach you.”
“Any idea where I could find this person?” asked Randall.
“I’ve heard they rented a room above the pub. Perhaps the proprietors could tell you.”
“I don’t have a rod, but I might check it out at some point down the line.”
“Good luck. If my results from fishing are anything to go by, you’ll likely need it.” With that, Vincent took the dirty dishes and went back inside the cafe.
After a couple minutes, Kate exited the shop carrying a small paper bag. She said, “Mr. Boucher gave me some extra croissants, saying how could he not after our glowing review. They should go well with what’s left of the vegetable soup.”
“Thanks,’ said Randall as he took the bag. “And let Meredith know I appreciate her treating me to lunch.”
“I will. And you let me know if you raise more of those amazing strawberries.”
“Absolutely.”
Kate crossed over to the front of the store as he walked down the road towards the farm.
* * *