Brandon quirks a brow. I’d forgotten how spare he could be with words. Back in college, the guy could say more with one expression than most people managed in an entire conversation. “C’mon Edward. I work in real estate. Are you telling me you don’t have any plans to improve the place?”
“Improve the place? Impossible!” says a fervent Pepper. “It’s perfect as it is. Don’t change a thing.”
Elinor appears with my coffee, a menu, and a fake smile—and my stomach sinks. If she overheard Pepper talking about improvements, she’s bound to have questions I’m not ready to answer.
Mom’s Cafeis written across the top of the menu she hands me. There’s a charming sketch of an otter lying on its back with a waffle and whipped cream balanced on its tummy, surrounded by doodles of trees, wildflowers, birds, and the cliffs of Big Sur. I have no doubt Elinor designed it.
“Thank you,” I take a sip, keeping my eyes on Elinor. “This is really good.”
“Why is she giving you a tour if your mom’s the owner?” asks Pepper.
“Because it’s really more her place.” I wave the menu toward Elinor. “For example, she drew this.”
“How did you know that?” Elinor asks, finally dropping herdetermined indifference.
“It’s your style—I’d recognize it anywhere. Remember, I have an original E. Greenwood painting in my bedroom.”
“Your bedroom?” She asks, lighting up. I absolutely hadn’t meant to tell her that detail.
“I told you it was on my wall.”
“That you did.” She smiles. Turning to Brandon, she says, “Just to be clear, the painting thing sounds much more impressive than it is. I’m not really an artist.”
I love that painting. Of course she’s an artist. I can’t understand why Elinor feels she must keep that part of herself under wraps. I fear she’s making herself small to make room for her mom and sister’s larger-than-life personalities—and they don’t even realize it.
“This menu proves otherwise,” says Brandon. “It’s really cool.”
“It’s adorable,” says Pepper. “I especially love the otter. You should turn some of these sketches into stickers. I’d buy an otter sticker.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Elinor looks thoughtful.
“I’m full of brilliant ideas,” Pepper says before writing more (apparently brilliant) ideas in her notebook.
His countenance was sensible, and his address was particularly gentlemanlike. —Sense and Sensibility
10
Edward
Once again, the food is sublime. The potatoes in my corned beef hash are salty, crunchy, golden perfection. Brandon decides on the steak and eggs and Pepper selects the waffles with berries and cream—probably inspired by the otter sketch. The food is high quality at a fair price point.
I marvel at how Elinor manages this cafe. Even though Maggie Greenwood plans the menu and does most of the cooking, I have a hunch that the quality, consistency, and value have a lot to do with Elinor. When she finally started reviewing the Norland Park accounts, my mom was pleasantly surprised by how much money the property brings in despite a shoestring budget. I would love to see what Elinor could do with proper funding.
“So how do you know these two?” Elinor asks me after checking in on us mid-meal.
“Brandon was captain of my lacrosse team.”
“Lacrosse!” She slaps her forehead. “Of course!”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve been trying to guess your sport. My first guess was tennis.”
“Oh no, I’m garbage at tennis,” I admit. “Such a disappointment to my mom—she’s obsessed with the sport.”
“Dad says Edward is the one who gave me Tobias” Pepper volunteers, gesturing towards me with a winning smile.
“Tobias?” Elinor asks, her face softening.
