Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies

renovating his great grandfather’s estate was almost complete and he’d managed to keep his familial connection under wraps. All summer he’d bickered with his brother, Jake, about admitting to the team that there was a personal agenda tacked on to the mansion. Jake had tried to convince him that if the workers knew that the renovations were a family endeavor that they would be more committed to the job. Quinn didn’t buy it. His mother’s family had hosted a whole series of complications in many situations so he dedicated his Wrigley name to a separate wing of his life.
    “I’ll let you two lovebirds settle the grills. But I want to see your new apartment, Lindy, by the end of the week.”
    “Bossy boss, aren’t you, Quinn?”
    “Only when necessary.” He joked and strode into the boathouse to escape that putrid smell of carbonized animal fat, this, being one of the few times, he liked being a vegetarian.
    Already in the boathouse, some of his men were chugging beers and playing pool. Quinn expected the rest of his team, about twenty more guys, to take advantage of the free food and beer. He didn’t think there’d be many significant others, since most of the men were young locals picking up summer cash before they went back to school. The boys worked hard and the renovations were more than terrific without ever knowing that he was a Wrigley. He’d make sure to tell Jake when he saw his brother this weekend in Chicago.
    Quinn grabbed a Miller, no Bud, from a cooler and chuckled under his breath. Sadie had fallen asleep before he could find a beer for her. He grabbed a couple bottles of Miller to take back to her and set them next to the refrigerator.
    He glanced around at the noses of wood boat collection hitched onto the frames. He was satisfied with the uniform look that his choice of forest green duck cloth covers created. Quinn saw Paul admiring the glossy mahogany belly of one of the boats and headed over. “Paul. Do you want to check on Sadie? Who’s cooking at the diner, man?”
    Paul shook his hand. “No, no. I trust Sadie is in good hands with you. I came over to drop off dessert for you boys. I forgot to send it with Lindy. I close the diner at eight on Wednesdays for my mates, to play Sheepshead.”
    “Sadie’s sunburn should be better by the morning. I’m sure she’ll be anxious to get back to Ms. Katie’s before she goes to Chicago.”
    Paul laughed. “I’m not letting her back in the diner. I fired her yesterday. She needs to get the hell out of this dinky town and do her job, finishing her thesis. Did you tell her about designing the expansion?”
    Quinn offered him one of the Miller bottles he held in his hand, but he declined. “Yes, sir. But I think she’s was a little groggy so I’ll tell her again in the morning that I want her to head up the diner renovations.”
    “Good.” Paul squatted down and tugged off a corner flap of one of the Chris-Craft covers. “She’s a beauty.”
    “Yep, she is.” Quinn thought of Sadie. “She’s not riding her bike to Chicago, Paul, is she?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
    “I think Lindy’s taking her to the city Saturday morning. Why?”
    “Since you fired her can you let Sadie go earlier? Say Friday? I have to get back to Chicago to resolve a fucked-up solar panel.”
    Paul stood and shook out his knees with a cracking pop. “Hell yeah. Her place is in Bucktown. On Damon. I think her old roommate, Ellen, stayed there all summer. Be my guest, deliver my ‘beautiful’ daughter, Laughton, to Chicago so she can get on with her life.”
    “And you? Are you going to take some time away from the diner? Did Lindy say she’d run it for you?”
    “Yeah. I am. Don’t worry about your new acquisition. It will be in good hands. Lindy and Eddie are going to split shifts. My mates, the Sheepshead foursome, will help. Play cooks and waiters for me…I mean, you.”
    Quinn pictured Lindy and Eddie at the flaming grill then laughed.