Chapter 23

Ana PoV

I woke up after having a dream of my restaurant. It was perfect. The menu was gorgeous, the building itself couldn't have been designed better, and the clientele were exactly who I had in mind. I knew exactly what I had to do, and that was call Mia, suggest a partnership and get planning. Christian was fast asleep, wrapped around me like a burrito. Clyde had come and gone, so he was back in bed sleeping soundly again after his one hour session of physical therapy. I stretched my free arm out and found my cell phone which was teetering precariously on the edge of the night stand. I clearly saved it from certain death. Squinting at the bright light of the screen, I scrolled through the contacts until I came upon Mia. I pressed her name and waited for her to answer.

One ring, two rings, three rings… I tapped my fingers against Christian's forearm impatiently. "Mia!" I greeted when she finally answered the phone. "I have an idea… rather Christian had an idea, I think it's fantastic, and I'd like your input slash help."

"Okay, and good morning by the way," she replied, sleepily. I looked over at the clock and saw that it was seven am. Apparently a bit too early for her.

"Oh sorry, yes, good morning. I was so excited; I couldn't wait to call you."

"What's up, Ana?" she asked.

"I want to open a restaurant," I told her. "I think your culinary skills and mine, paired with my business skills, and my siblings' design skills, we could create something really, really awesome."

"Are you saying you want us to open a restaurant?" she asked. "Like, seriously?"

"Yes! Of course I'm serious. I know we don't know each other very well, but I'm not much of a jokester."

"Yeah, you seem a lot like my ginger brother in that way." She giggled. "Okay, let's do it!"

"Really? You'll partner up with me?" I asked. I didn't think she'd be so quick to agree.

"Hell yes I will. I just finished my culinary school; I've always wanted to open a restaurant, and now I have a friend that wants to do it with me. It's kind of a major 'DUH' moment, Ana."

"Well alright then. Christian is still dead to the world, so do you want to come here and we can go over some recipes and some ideas that I'm sure we both have many of?"

"Sure! Let me just get dressed and have breakfast and I'll be on my way over."

"Or you could have breakfast here. I make a mean frittata Florentine," I suggested.

"You had me at 'I make a mean…' I'm on my way." I gave her the address and then hopped in the shower. When I got out and got dressed, Christian was beginning to stir.

"Ana?" he called out, his uninjured arm searching the empty space on the bed. There was a slightly panicky edge to his voice.

"I'm right here, baby," I said as I approached him. "Your sister is on her way. We're going to discuss the restaurant business. I'm going to go make some breakfast. Come on down whenever you like." I leaned down and kissed him full on the lips, pushing as much passion and love as I could into it. "I love you," I whispered.

As I was descending the stairs, I could hear him scrambling out of the bed, to get ready too. I giggled quietly. Of course he didn't want to stay away from me for long. It was codependence to the max, but I didn't even care.

In the kitchen, I started beating up the eggs while I sautéed the potatoes, bacon, onions, mushrooms, spinach and garlic. Christian arrived moments later, his hair wet and glossy from the shower, sticking out in every direction like he'd just run a towel through it. I wanted to run my fingers through it. Yum.

He stepped to me, kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheek and finally, my lips. "Good morning baby, I love you, too." I giggled like a school girl as he swatted my behind playfully before grabbing plates and glasses to set the table. "I take it Mia is joining us for breakfast?"

"Yes, I figured why not start out our negotiations with food we might use on the menu?" I answered as I poured the egg and cheese mixture into the pan.

"That bacon smells amazing. Where's it from?" He leaned over me and inhaled deeply, moaning as he took in the aromas wafting up from the pan.

"It's from this amazing farm in Cambridge, Wisconsin," I answered. "The couple that runs it are the cutest couple you'd ever seen, and they only feed their pigs organic foods, treat them like family, and as a result the meat is amazing. When you treat an animal like shit, the meat tastes like shit. When you treat it like a king, the meat is amazing."

"You should write that down somewhere," he joked.

The doorbell rang, signaling Mia's arrival. Christian darted off to answer it as I was in the middle of making the frittatas. Stepping away even for a few seconds could be the difference between perfectly cooked and burnt to hell. I heard Mia and her brother exchange pleasantries before they both came into the kitchen. "Wow, Ana! This kitchen is amazing!" she exclaimed.

She reached me and pecked my cheek before squeezing my free hand. "Good morning! That smells amazing, and I am SO excited about this restaurant! What should we call it? Ana Mia's? Miana's? Steely Grey's?"

"Well, we'll have to discuss it of course, but I was thinking of calling it Mammaw's Diner, after my grandmother," I replied. "I don't want a high priced place, but a homey, cozy place that people can feel super comfortable in. They don't have to dress to the nines or plan to eat ahead of time because the $150 plate only has three bites of food on it."

"Oh, I like this idea. And perhaps once Mammaw's takes off, we can create another restaurant, more of a fine dining affair?" she asked.

"Sure thing, Mia. But either way, I want the prices to be affordable. I can't stand the places that only the most elite can get into. Everyone should be able to afford a nice meal."

The frittatas were done and I placed them on each plate as we sat down. Christian poured juice and offered each of us coffee or tea. I declined, saying the juice was fine, but Mia desperately wanted coffee. Christian set about making a pot while Mia and I dug into our food. We had a lot to discuss and needed to get started with it.

"Okay, so if we're opening a diner, we want comfort food, right?" Mia stated as she fished a notebook and pen out of her massive purse. "Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, mac n' cheese, stuff like that. Do we want to have a breakfast service? Should we make the breakfast items available all day?"

"Yes to all of the above," I replied. "I was thinking of the kid's menu this morning, before I called you. We could have alphabet pancakes on there, 'alpha-cakes.' Something like, 'get your name in your pancakes.' You simply put the batter in a baggie with a wide mouth icing tip and squeeze it out on the griddle in the shape of whatever letter. One might even be able to do a whole name in one cake if you use cursive. That way any little Polly, Jimmy, Joey or Maria can have his or her name for breakfast."

"I LOVE that idea, Ana! You're a genius!" I glanced over at Christian who had returned with the French press and a mug for Mia and was digging into his food. He eyed me with all the love and affection he felt. He remembered the pancakes I made for him. The inspiration for the alpha-cakes idea. "What about other kid's meals?" Mia was writing furiously in her notebook, sure to write down all my ideas.

"Another idea I had, was kind of like macaroni and cheese, which you mentioned as a comfort food, anyway, so we're on the same train of thought, and that's very good. You cut a hot dog or two into chunks, then take uncooked spaghetti noodles and stab them through the hot dogs. You can put six or seven noodles into each chunk, sliding them through so the hot dog is through the middle of the noodles. Then you cook them and mix them with the cheese sauce as normal. When it's done, they look like octopi or something… I was thinking of calling it 'sketti n' cheese' since little kids say 'sketti' sometimes, right? And we could also have turkey or veggie dogs as a substitute for parents whose kids don't eat beef." There were a lot of those vegan and vegetarian people in Seattle. We needed to appease some of them.

"Oh Ana, you're going to make a great mom some day!" Mia exclaimed. "These ideas are amazing. Any kid would be happy to eat their entire meal when it's fun like that." My throat constricted slightly at her words. She had no idea that kids weren't in my future, so I couldn't fault her for the comment. But it caught me off guard nonetheless.

"No, I just have a good idea of what kids like," I replied. "Like dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets or icing a piece of cake with their favorite cartoon character. Kids like fun things all around and that includes food."

"You're right about that," Mia agreed. "Okay, so we've got a couple kids meals down, what about adult meals? This frittata Florentine had better be on the menu, lady. It's amazing."

"Sure thing, it can be, and I'm sure my meat supplier would be happy to send me lots more for a restaurant. She'd love to expand. Perhaps I can convince her to relocate her farm to the Pacific Northwest," I joked.

"That's actually not a bad idea. People love going to restaurants that boast locally grown and produced foods."

"Give her a hell of an offer," Christian adds. "I've got some land set aside for a house that now I won't have to build. It'd be great farm land, and she'd have a beautiful house and a view of the ocean every day."

"You have land for a house?!" Mia and I chorused together.

"Well yes, I hadn't planned on living in Escala for the rest of my life. I bought a piece to retire on," he answered. "There's a house sitting on it now, but it needs a lot of work. If you can convince your farmer friends to move out here, then they can have the house and the land free of cost." As he made his offer, the wheels were turning in my head. We were really going to do this. Mia and I were really going to open a restaurant. Christian was giving his full support both by being here during the discussions and by offering up his own possessions to help the cause.

"I guess I'll get Red on the phone, then," I said, making a mental note to call her. "Let's talk a bit more about the menu first." Mia and I went back and forth about what to include in the menu. We both wanted to keep it simple so that we didn't have to have the kitchen constantly stocked with ingredients for a million menu items. We both had been to the cheesecake factory and the idea of a menu with page numbers was far too intimidating. I wanted to use as many of my Mammaw's recipes as we could, since she was the namesake. Pulling out her recipe box, Mia and I went through it card by card.

Eventually we decided on having a build your own omelet section with various ingredients, pancakes, Hawaiian French toast, chicken and waffles, a few steaks, burgers, chicken sandwiches, a couple pasta dishes, and then went on to discuss opening more restaurants that could have certain themes. A Casablanca themed one, or a Venetian one with Italian cuisine, including a build your own personal pan pizza bar.

Christian got us back on track with Mammaw's as it was the first restaurant we'd open. We had the rest of our lives to open up other concepts. He assured us that once word of mouth got out about how amazing Mammaw's was that people would flock to our other restaurants as soon as they heard we were the masterminds behind them.

Christian PoV

Mia and Ana were a natural partnership. They each brought out the best in one another, called each other out on bad ideas, and worked together perfectly. It was a joy to see. I thought Ana might have a minor break down when Mia mentioned her being a wonderful mother someday, but she cleared her face quickly and got back to the task at hand. She was nothing if not professional and very good at compartmentalizing.

While they were working, the doorbell rang again and my parents along with Ana's parents, Elliot, Kate and Ethan were standing there. "Why would you ring the doorbell of your own house?" Elliot asked Ethan, whose finger was extended, giving away the fact that he'd been the one to ring.

"Well, Christian lives here now, too, and I didn't want to walk in on him and Ana in a compromising position in the living room or something," Ethan said. I smirked, knowing that Ana would be blushing furiously if she heard him.

"On the contrary, Mia is here. She and Ana are discussing plans for a restaurant they're planning to open together."

"You and Ana moved in together?" Ana's mother asked.

"Er, yes. We did," I told her.

"That seems awfully soon, Christian," she admonished. I panicked. I had no idea what to say to that. We hadn't even discussed with Ethan and Kate. I just moved in with little regard for what their opinion was. Ethan didn't seem upset about it. Kate didn't either.

"Under any other circumstances, I'd agree with you, Miranda," my mother said, coming to my rescue. "But anyone can see how much these two love each other. I've never seen anything like it. It's like they're two halves of one being. Tell me, Miranda, Ray, have you ever seen your daughter happier than she's been since meeting my son?" They both shook their heads. "Right, and my son is a completely different man now. He smiles all the time, he's glowing with happiness and love. And I for one, wouldn't change that for the world."

I pulled my mom in for a hug, wishing I could wrap both my arms around her. She was amazing. Ray shook my hand, congratulated me on winning over his daughter and said if I ever hurt her he'd take out my other shoulder with a shotgun. I recall a similar threat during the family picnic where all hell broke loose, but appreciated it anyway. It proved to me that Ray loved his daughter fiercely and was protective of her. I admired that about him. It's the way any father should be.

We all moved into the kitchen where Ana and Mia were still talking restaurant plans, completely oblivious to the rest of us. "Should we have fun 50s style dresses for the waitresses to wear? We could have someone from Elena's salons do their hair every day, maybe," Mia suggested.

"I don't want that scorpion woman involved," Ana hissed.

"What?! What's wrong with Elena?" Mia asked, affronted.

"Several things," Ana replied. "I love your idea, Mia, but we'll have to use a different salon." Ana quickly diffused the situation without giving much away. Apparently my parents hadn't told Mia what they recently learned about Elena.

"Um, okay," Mia replied. As she went to write down some more notes, her pen slipped out of her hand, when she turned to grab it, she caught sight of us and literally jumped in her seat. "When did you all get here?" she asked, completely surprised.

"Jeez, babe, we've been standing here a while. I rang the doorbell and everything. You didn't even hear?" Ethan asked.

"No, I guess Ana and I were really into our plans. Did Christian tell you? We're opening a restaurant! She thrust a sketch at him that Ana had drawn up of what the signage might look like.

"This is awesome," Elliot said, glancing at the paper. "Who's gonna build it? Grey or Steele?"

"Steele Designs, of course," Ana replied, winking at Elliot. "Actually I was thinking of a joint thing. It could be really great press for both companies if they see that the people who run said companies are good friends and practically family."

"I agree," I said. "It can only be good for all parties involved. Especially if the restaurant does as well as we hope."

"Let's see what you've got for a menu," Miranda stated as she joins the table.

Soon everyone was throwing out ideas and suggestions for the design, the menu, the prices, and everything. I could see Ana getting stressed out and overwhelmed by all the attention.

"Everyone!" I shouted. "There are far too many cooks in this kitchen. Let's leave the planning to Ana's and Mia's more than capable hands, okay? When they need the expertise of one or more of us, they'll ask for it." They all hung their heads in shame and retreated into the living room to chat while Mia and Ana continued to work.

They broke for lunch and put together a sandwich bar for all of us. "This would be another great idea! Build your own sandwich bar!" Elliot exclaimed. "It could be like a luncheonette. I'm saying, between the two of you and the designers, architects, lawyers, and business people in our families, we could take Seattle's restaurant district by storm!" The man had a point, a very valid one.

He strode over to the table and looked over the sketches that Ana and Mia had made up of the restaurant's layout. "This is all totally doable, too, and it wouldn't cost a lot, even if you went completely green. People out here like things that are green."

"Yes, Elliot, we know," Mia said. "That's our plan. Build the restaurant as sustainably as possible, use only locally grown produce, meat and other products, give our wait-staff more than minimum wage, and keep the meals affordable. It'll be a big investment, but once the restaurant takes off, even with the low prices, the business will take off, and we'll make back our investment quickly. Don't you agree, Daddy?" she asked, turning to our father, the business lawyer.

He stepped over and glanced at the business plan that even included prices for a lot of the things they needed. "You're right, Mia. It'll be a hell of an investment, but if you can make it work, it'll be a goldmine. And it'll open the door for many other food related endeavors."

"I think as part of our advertising campaign, we could deliver meals to the homeless shelters or have a free meal night once a month or something," Ana suggested. "People always respond well to companies that give back. And it would feel good to be doing so as well."

"That's a great idea, Ana," my mother said. "There are a great many things you could do to give back to the community, and bring lots of patrons into dine at the restaurant. I'll be happy to put word around at the hospital, especially the free clinic that homeless people can go there for a free meal on every third Thursday, or whatever you decide."

Now that everyone was offering up constructive ideas and waiting their turn to speak, the discussion was going a lot smoother. By the end of the day, we had a solid plan in place; all that was left was to make it happen.