Carolina Heart
“Table six, table four, three guys at the bar, a couple in the back booth holding hands. A quiet Thursday. The restaurant emptied early now that the season was over and the tourists were gone.
The old fish house on Dare Island had always been the heart of the community, the place where local fishermen brought their catch and talked about their neighbors and the weather.
Ten years ago the property owner had razed the building where fish were cleaned and packed, and replaced it with a restaurant. Now dark wood tables and long plank floors stretched to the back of the room. Rows of bottles glinted in the light of the flat screens over the bar.
Nothing was left of the original fish house but the name and the view of the harbor.
Yet the place still survived as a hub for the locals to gather and gossip.
Cynthie closed out table four, leaving them with the check and a smile, and made her way to the couple in the booth: Sam Grady, the owner’s son, and his fiancée, Meg Fletc...her, who’d gone to school with Cynthie.MoreLess
The old fish house on Dare Island had always been the heart of the community, the place where local fishermen brought their catch and talked about their neighbors and the weather.
Ten years ago the property owner had razed the building where fish were cleaned and packed, and replaced it with a restaurant. Now dark wood tables and long plank floors stretched to the back of the room. Rows of bottles glinted in the light of the flat screens over the bar.
Nothing was left of the original fish house but the name and the view of the harbor.
Yet the place still survived as a hub for the locals to gather and gossip.
Cynthie closed out table four, leaving them with the check and a smile, and made her way to the couple in the booth: Sam Grady, the owner’s son, and his fiancée, Meg Fletc...her, who’d gone to school with Cynthie.MoreLess
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