to the motel, needed to remove all traces of what had happened the night before, even if it was just physically. The psychological damage would remain, forever etched deeply inside that part of her brain where memories were stored.
Chapter Three
G loriaâs Organic Market had everything a lover of gourmet foods could dream of. It was Mollyâs favorite place to shop when she had a special dinner party planned. Located in downtown Goldenhills, in the historic district between the public library and Dr. Lairdâs family practice, Gloriaâs was always packed with shoppers, no matter the time of day. Crates of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs lined the sidewalk in front of the store. Huge tubs of rosemary flanked the entrance. Molly inhaled the piney, minty scent as she entered the market.
One could find fresh, grass-fed beef, free-range eggs and chickens, and a variety of homemade preserves supplied by local farmers. Spice rubs, salsas, and chutneys, along with an array of homemade breads, muffins, and crackers, crowded the shelves. Gloriaâs always had the best bay scallops and cherrystone and littleneck clams in the Boston area. Molly took in the smell of freshly made pesto, which brought a smile to her face; Gloriaâs was indeed a smorgasbord for the senses. She reached for a bright-yellow basket from a stack piled neatly at the entrance. Gloria mustâve stripped her basil plants out back in order to make the pesto. The last time Molly was here, the aromatic plants had little spikes of white flowers, indicating they were ready to pick. She spied Gloria at the back of the store behind the large wooden counter. âThe pesto smells divine. Iâll have half a pint,â said Molly.
âYou want pasta, too? Chelsea made some fresh this morning.â
âYou know I do,â she said. âIâll pick it up on my way out.â
Chelsea, Gloriaâs daughter, had inherited her motherâs natural love of cooking and her ability to prepare just about anything connected with the human consumption of food and drink.
Mindlessly, Molly walked up and down the narrow aisles, searching for a new, unique gourmet item, anything to impress Tanner and his guests at tonightâs dinner. She wound her way through the aisles, stopping in the refrigerated section. Glass jars filled with a shrimp-colored liquid caught her attention. Spicy tomato gazpacho with freshly ground horseradish, Gloriaâs handwritten label stated, along with a lengthy list of organic ingredients. This would be a perfect start to tonightâs dinner. She placed four jars in her basket, thinking how refreshing it would be, given that it was smack-dab in the middle of summer. Theyâd had unusually high temperatures this year. A cold soup to start was ideal.
She took three pints of blackberries for the blackberry-rum shrub she planned to make. According to digital drinks.com, this was the hottest drink of the summer. Sheâd made it last week. It was to-die-for scrumptious, if you could call a drink scrumptious. A bottle of rum and a good balsamic vinegar completed her cocktail ingredients. Molly hoped tonightâs guests were up for her fabulous blackberry concoction.
She bought a dozen and a half fillets of black sea bass for the main course, and fiddlehead ferns as a side dish. She planned a simple Caesar salad, with her special homemade dressing. She usually made this tableside in the formal dining room when she was casually entertaining friends, but tonight sheâd prepare it in the kitchen. She didnât want to embarrass Tanner if she forgot an ingredient or, God forbid, dropped something.
Sheâd forgo the bread since she planned on serving baguettes with a cheese platter. Sheâd be serving five cheeses: smoked Gouda, Danish Havarti, pepper jack, a sweet ricotta, and a soft goat cheese. She always liked to add both sweet and dill pickles, three or four varieties of mustards, cappicola