Sabrina was impressed with the place despite her best efforts not to be.
When Shannon and Andrew had come to meet her at the entrance in response to Margie's page, she'd been surprised, and pleased, at her grandsons' unanticipated presence. She'd commented in typical grandmotherly fashion, although nothing about Sabrina could truly be classified as typical grandmotherly, that Andrew needed a haircut. Then had gone on to tell him that his hair looked a lot like his father had worn his in his late teens, all shaggy and thick with long bangs that had framed his face and stuck to his cheeks, though Boone's hair was brown and Andrew's blonde.
He'd smiled a bit in pleasure at being compared to his dad, and had dutifully kissed her.
Shannon kicked off the tour for her step-mother with their two offices, each one reflecting the personality of the respective occupant, and as different in design as the partners were in character.
Boones' office was done up in dark wood; mahogany, but the furnishings were light and minimalist in construction, the clean lines reminiscent of Scandinavian modern.
Instead of the ubiquitous desk, a rectangular table with finely tapered legs sat carefully aligned squarely in front of the credenza that graced the back wall opposite the door. The only items on the table top were a telephone, a desk caddy with the usual office supplies; a three tier in/out tray; the in basket predictably empty, all work having been dispensed with, and the latest in lap tops. On the credenza there were only two things; a large photo of Andrew and a slightly smaller one of Shannon.
The guest chairs were upholstered in a geometric pattern of varying shades of blue and the couch, long enough to accommodate his small frame fully stretched out, in a solid blue. The walls were painted blue grey, a faux finish giving the impression of expensive linen.
Shannon's office was a study in complete contrast to his, the desk and credenza sizeable and ornate with raised and inset panels, the stain a light honey pine. Her desk was angled in a corner and covered with a jumble of files and papers, a small make up bag sat in the centre of her lap tops' keyboard. The surface of the credenza was completely obscured by another layer of paperwork with a large picture of Boone and a smaller one of Andrew.
Her occasional chairs were done up in a large floral print, predominantly pink, with the sizeable overstuffed couch covered in a co-ordinating stripe. The couch hid a pull out sofa bed. It hadn't been planned that way, but it had been the one she'd liked the best and it had only come in a convertible model. Once they'd thought about it, they'd realized that, given the late hours they often worked due to the nature of the business, maybe it was actually a fortuitous coincidence. They'd yet to use it, though it was already made up with sheets, the comforter and pillows stashed away in the closet. The walls of Shannon's office were a dusty rose, glazed in a marbling effect, and each office also had a private bathroom with a shower stall.
The public spaces were all a muted though warm beige, the furnishings comfortable, but unremarkable. There was, however, a decidedly eclectic scattering of items throughout.
Boone had had the idea of asking each of their friends to contribute something that would be of significance only to them. A reminder of the year of hardship, forging of bonds and personal growth that they'd spent together. They had, of course, added the proviso that each and every one of them would be reimbursed in full for any monies spent, but unsurprisingly, none had taken them up on that part of the offer.
Sawyer had, predictably, told them to fuck the hell off, he had better things to do than spend his valuable time buying them some tacky singing bass wall plaque. So when FedEx had arrived at their door with a box marked fragile, the sender identified on the way bill as James Ford, they'd opened it together with anticipation and curiosity.
When a shadow box displaying a first edition copy of Watership Down had emerged from the foam popcorn cushioning the treasure, they'd looked at each other, neither ashamed of the tears that glistened in their eyes. Each subsequent offering had been received with almost equal emotion.
The salt water fish tank that had been Jack's contribution held two sea urchins and sat on a stand in Boone's office. Boone had named the pair Scott and Steve, of course having no idea which one was which. He had, years before, ceased feeling guilty over any possible complicity he might have had in Scott's gruesome death. On the all too frequent occasions when, one after another, several of the original survivors had fallen victim to the dangers of the island, both natural and not, he'd realized that even if he'd been sitting and staring at the guy instead of sleeping at his sentry post, he'd probably not have been able to prevent his murder anyway.
There was a framed oil canvas in one of the meeting rooms, an original of Michael's. It was a view of the beach from which they'd left the island upon rescue, the place where they'd last felt the undercurrent of life that the place sometimes seemed to exude. They both remembered how they'd leaned against each other, Boone's arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist, as they'd watched the patch of sand recede into the distance, conflicted feelings of relief and sorrow filling them. They always paused, however briefly, in front of the picture, homesickness and nostalgia holding their eyes on the view depicted.
The roughly woven twig and eucalyptus wreath from Sun had been claimed by Shannon immediately upon its' arrival, and hung on the wall in her office.
The pewter Asian symbols from Claire were displayed on the walls in various spots, a label with their meaning pressed inside the hollowed out cavity of each ones' back. Upon finding that one of them translated as serenity, Boone quickly proclaimed ownership of it. Being the science fiction fan that he was, Serenity was actually one of his favourite movies, a spin off from the depressingly short lived TV show Firefly. In addition, he figured he'd need all of the attribute that he could get now that he was both living and working with Shannon. That he found himself looking at it frequently to help him calm his frayed nerves didn't surprise him in the least.
The gifts from the other five were similarly found places of importance.
The tour concluded in the hallway outside the kitchen, a window had been installed in the wall affording a full view of the space. It had been Shannon's idea, she wanted to be able to see into his inner sanctum without actually having to walk in and disturb him. For this space they'd hired a professional kitchen designer, who, after lots of input from Boone, had proudly unveiled the finished product upon completion. Not only had it been completed on time, something they'd learned was almost unheard of, it exceeded his expectations. He'd happily written a long letter of appreciation, and had his name posted on the man's web site below an excerpt from the glowing recommendation.
Sabrina watched her son, mesmerized as he turned from counter to stove, expertly flipping something in a skillet; then pointed at something else with the knife still in his hand, giving directions to an assistant. Then he turned back to chopping something on the board in front of him not looking at the flashing blade as he asked a question of someone else over his left shoulder. She was amazed at seeing how capable he was in a setting in which she'd never imagined him. The hardening of her heart against him actually eased up a bit and she found herself almost smiling at his obvious happiness and astounding competence.
Andrew caught the thought and smiled up at her. He was so intensely proud of Boone he'd never understood how his grandmother couldn't possibly be too.
Boone looked to the window as he sensed their scrutiny.
'Hey baby, how you holding up? How's she been?' He asked Shannon with concern, and smiled and nodded at his mother.
'She's actually been okay,' Shannon told him with relief, 'and Andrew says she really likes the place. How much longer are you going to be?'
Boone picked up a fork and stuck it in something in a pot, 'Five,' he gave her an ETA on lunch.
'We'll wait for you in the tasting room.' She ushered Sabrina down the hall and into a room that had a round table covered with a floor length pink cloth overlaid with a smaller square blue one, set with a service for four.
A girl came in with a basket of fresh baked whole grain buns and four plates of salad. It was a take on the usual Italian mozzarella and tomato one, but he'd drastically reduced the fat content by chopping the cheese into small cubes and serving it on a bed of tomatoes and baby greens which included basil.
She poured wine for Sabrina and Shannon then told them that Boone had said to go ahead and start without him. There was already a glass of milk in front of Andrews' place and a jug of iced jasmine tea by the vacant chair. They'd just finished the salad when Boone joined them, balancing places for each of them. He apologized for not joining them immediately, but they had a function that night, and the kitchen was hopping.
Sabrina looked down a little askance at her plate, the contents seeming terribly pedestrian. He served Shannon next, she rose from her chair stepping back a pace from the table, and gave him a kiss, pulling the backwards baseball cap off his head and fluffing the imprint of it away.
He asked about the tour as they all started the main course.
Boone proudly explained the adjustments he'd made to each dish as Sabrina sampled them, her scepticism giving way to appreciation. The porcini gravy that topped the turkey meatloaf elevated the possibly bland meat to a new level. The orange kumquat glaze and sprinkle of currants replicated the red exterior and orange core of the heirloom carrots and the garlic flavoured yellow flesh of the mashed potatoes was flecked with the brown of the scrubbed skin as well as chopped parsley and chives.
Sabrina was amazed at how delicious and gourmet the usually home style dishes were.
During the tour Shannon and Andrew had explained a little bit about the type of fare they offered, but now Boone expanded on it. "It's really all about filling a niche market that I identified as being under serviced."
Andrew went to an inset shelf on the back wall and came back with an information packet for her.
As she perused the contents of the marketing folder she saw that they did all manner of events, from business luncheons to kid's birthdays. The mission statement of the company was boldly printed on the inside front cover of the folder. It blathered on about diet and nutrition, finishing with a comment about the epidemic of obesity that was ravaging the population.
Sabrina thought it was slightly more political and opinionated than it should have been, but then Boone had always been a bit of an activist.
"Is everyone finished?" Boone asked politely, already starting to rise to clear the table and pour coffee for the ladies.
Andrew eyed Boone's only half finished meal unhappily. "You aren't," he pointed out with a frown, keeping his voice low.
Boone took in the look of concern on the boy's face and reluctantly forked up a few more carrots. 'Okay now?' he asked silently, Shannon and Sabrina had gone back to their discussion and he didn't want to disturb them, or draw their attention back to the role reversal temporarily existing between himself and Andrew.
After coffee things were still going well enough with his mother that Boone took her back to his office and shared his business plan with her. He followed that up with a peek at the actual results, showing her that, given his typically conservative estimate, they were well ahead of forecast.
She reached a hand out and placed it on his forearm, squeezing it gently, giving him a brief smile and nodding.
He knew it was all the recognition he was going to get out of her and quite honestly far more than the begrudging acceptance that was the most that he'd hoped for.
Bidding her goodbye at the front door, they were shocked when, after hugging and kissing Andrew, she did the same to each of them as well.
Shannon's eyes were as large as saucers as she considered that Sabrina had quite possibly lost her mind.
Sabrina quickly regained her usual cool exterior and nodded curtly, telling them that she was going to be adding them to her personally authorized list of preferred suppliers. Not content to leave on a high note she added that she hoped that they'd be up to the challenge of the increase in business and wouldn't give her any reason to regret the action. After that she turned abruptly and left.
Boone gave a wry chuckle and shook his head a bit. Trust his mother to end an otherwise pleasant visit with a mild threat.