"Does he really make a sauce out of rooster feathers?" Angie asked Callie, fascinated and repulsed simultaneously by the thought. It was Molly who answered.

"Oh no," she said to assure Angie, "it’s just our new names for ..." and she dropped her voice to a whisper even as she glanced around to be certain no one else was near to eavesdrop, "cocktail and tartar sauces."

"Oh," Angie said, but nodded to herself as she thought about it. Now that she knew what they stood for they made sense, but dare she ask why they were re-named? And why did Molly feel like she had to whisper when she said their real names?

"Funny story about those names," Alex said from the bar, where she was washing the counter with a wet rag. "Want to hear it?"

"Yeh," Angie said, glad her question was being answered without her having to ask it.

"It all started when one of the fishermen, whose name we no longer speak in this bar, told an off-color joke that centered around a pun involving ..." at which point Dylan put his hands on his hips, moved his elbows back and forth, and yelled, "I can crow!"

"That’s enough of that, Dylan," Alex told her son, who just grinned at her before going back to washing tables. Alex continued to wash the bar, working her way down toward the kitchen side, as she went back to telling the story.

"This fisherman, whose name we do not speak, had told the joke to Dylan, who then ran around telling it to everyone else he could. First person he told it to was Boris. So Boris came to me and asked me, ‘what this joke mean’? So after I got to the bottom of all this, I gave all my patrons a lecture on watching their language around my son. Boris ... well, he was prepared to do a lot worse than that, shall we say. In fact, I think it was his response to the joke that first shook that shelf support loose. Was it, Molly?"

"Yep," Molly agreed. "You think he was loud just now," she told Angie, "well, you wouldn’t have wanted to be in the same county when he found out what the so called joke meant." Angie winced at the thought, and Molly said, "I’m sure that fisherman is suffering irreparable hearing loss from that outburst, and it serves him right."

"Dylan’s defense in repeating the joke," Alex continued, staring at her son, "was that the word in question is the first syllable in the popular red shrimp sauce and is printed on our menus."

"It’s also in the bible," Dylan countered, "and Peter Pan." He was about to repeat his earlier performance, but Alex glared at her son so fiercely he just went back to washing tables, looking a little abashed.

"So in the course of discussing the proper usage of certain words that have been deemed offensive, Boris told us that ‘tartar’ is a racial slur where he comes from," Alex continued, putting her wet rag down on the bar and walking around the far end to come join them. She sat in the chair Boris had vacated and sighed. "Oh, it’s good to be off my feet for a moment."

"Amen to that," Molly concurred.

"So, to finish the story," Alex said to Angie. "As you can guess, that fisherman," and the emphasis she put on ‘that’ made it sound like swearing, "immediately started showing off the new word he had learned, making it a point to say insulting things about Boris." Alex sighed. "What a jerk."

"You knew that. You saw how he treated Kenny," Molly told her.

"The Kenny I met?" Angie asked, turning to Callie.

"You’ve met Kenny? Doing landscaping for Hope Island?" Alex asked her. Angie nodded.

"That’s the Kenny. He needed a job, Daniel suggested I hire him as busboy. He was starting to learn, too, until that jerk," and again, ‘jerk’ was said as if it were the worst insult in the world, "started insulting Kenny. Got Kenny so upset .... but that worked out for the best, after all."

"And this fisherman?" Angie asked, looking for the ending of the story.

"He hasn’t been back here since his confrontation with Boris," Alex said, and smiled. "I think it has something to do with Boris telling him," and she then tried to imitate her cook’s tone without the volume, "KGB have many ways to teach you respect. Boris knows them all. Will take you to back room now." Alex nodded, and Molly smiled; Angie giggled, surprising herself with her response.

"But, when we learned what the word for that creamy white sauce means to Boris," Alex finished, "we decided to change the name to Cossack out of respect. So then we had to change the name of the red sauce, too, just to be fair and not let anyone suspect the truth."

It was then that Boris brought out Molly’s dinner. Placing it in front of her, he told Angie, "Boris never KGB, but don’t tell on Boris. Is useful fisherman not know."

"I promise," Angie told him, taking a liking to the man after hearing that story. "It’ll be our secret," she added.

"Loose lips sink ships," Nub added, causing everyone to stare at him. "That’s what I was taught to say when I promised not to tell a secret."

"Loose lips sink ships," Boris repeated. "What that mean?" He looked to Alex for an answer.

"I’ll have to get back to you on that one, Boris, I really don’t know. Unless you do, Nub?"

He shook his head. "I was just taught to say that when I promised to keep a secret."

"It was a campaign slogan used by the government to remind people working in defense plants not to talk about our war effort," Angie told them.

"Oh, I knew I forgot something," Molly said around a bite of shrimp. She reached into her apron pockets and pulled out the checks for the people sharing her table. "I am so sorry, and you’re just sitting here being so polite ..."

Callie started to take them, but Angie beat her to it. She was studying the prices even as Alex asked her, "Do you know which war? Now that you mention it, I remember hearing something about that ..."

"Boris knows this one. World War Two," he announced.

"I thought it was World War One," Callie said.

"This can’t be right," Angie said, still staring at the three meal checks.

"Oh, did I write it up too high? I’m so sorry, I’ve been so tired ... I bet I used the regular prices and not the special of the day." She took the checks from Angie’s hand and gave them to Alex, saying, "Would you check my figures, Alex?"

Alex gave them a fast glance, even as Callie said, "I bet you five dollars it was World War One, Boris."

"No, you used the right price. Why did you think they were too high, Angie?" Alex handed back the checks as Boris said, "You’re on, miss knows everything because she is reporter."

"Not high ... too low," Angie stated, even as she took her wallet out of her purse. "Back home I can’t get one meal for under what three cost here, and they don’t serve as much as you do."

"I wondered why you didn’t eat all your food," Molly said, staring at Angie’s plate. Then looking at the woman, added, "But I didn’t want to ask; didn’t want you to think I was trying to pry or something."

"Boris wrap up for kitty bag," he announced, reaching over for the plate.

"Oh yeh, Alex did mention a cat that belonged to someone," Angie said. "Sure, Boris, give it to the cat."

"No, Boris wrap for Angie. Just call it kitty bag not doggie bag. Be different. Da?"

Before Angie could respond, a police officer rushed into the Widow’s Walk and almost ran head on into Boris as he headed for Molly.

"This is Kevin Mitchell, Molly’s fiancé," Callie told Angie, even as a breathless Kevin gasped, "I came as fast as I could when I heard the news, Molly." Looking to Nub, and ignoring Molly’s confused expression, Kevin continued, though still gasping for air, "Congratulations, Nub. Have you set a date yet?" Then he looked at the woman sitting across from Nub and said, "You must be Angie. You’re getting a good man. So how long have you known each other?"

"Sit down, Kevin, and catch your breath," Alex told him, standing up out of the chair she was in so he could sit right there. "And when are you getting the police car out of the shop?"

"Mechanic said he’d have it ready tomorrow," Kevin told her in gasps, plopping down in the chair. Alex moved around him to pull another chair out from the table, looking around the place. Dylan had been bringing the dirty dishes to a front table, and was now crawling under tables to recover dropped silverware and used napkins. All but the one table was washed, and washed well. She was impressed, and said so.

"Excellent job, Dylan. You’re hired!" Her son crawled out from under the table and stood, clutching his recovered artifacts, beaming at his mother’s praise.

"Now then, Kevin, don’t tell me, let me guess," Alex said to him, sitting down in the chair she had just pulled out. "You met three tipsy fishermen at the wharf who had just come from here, and they told you Molly quit her job and Nub was engaged. Am I right so far?"

Kevin nodded, still slightly out of breath, but said, "Not at the ferry wharf, but at ..."

"And you ran all the way here?" Molly asked, knowing his rounds at this time of night. took him to the far end of the island.

With a final sigh, Kevin now had his breathing back under control as he told the group, "They said they had been having a drink at Widow’s Walk and heard ..." and he frowned, "Boris. I should have known."

"What? What should have known?" Boris asked, but everyone chose to ignore his statement.

Kevin looked to Angie, and said apologetically, "So I guess you’re not marrying Nub after all." Angie shook her head ‘no’, with a wide eyed look of amazement on her face as she studied a man who would literally come running at the first hint of trouble for the woman he loved.

"By the look on your face I guess you think I’m pretty stupid," Kevin told her sheepishly.

"I have never seen anything like this," Angie told him.

Daniel had just returned from the kitchen as this exchange occurred. Seeing the look on Angie’s face, and hearing her words, he showed a sorrow on his face that only Dylan saw.

"Never, Angie?" he said quietly, too quiet for anyone at the table to hear, then quickly turned back and re-entered the kitchen. Dylan followed him, worried and more than a little curious at what could possibly make a grown man like Daniel start to cry.

"Well, I have," Kevin told her in disgust. "Barney Fife from Mayberry, that’s me."

"Who was Sheriff Taylor’s sidekick in Andy Griffith Show. See, Boris studying for big Jeopardy game next week," he announced, but again, he was being ignored. This time he refused to take the hint and continued with, "You are nothing like Barney Fife. Boris knows, have watched show. You are good man, Kevin Mitchell, take good care of Molly, will be good husband. Not that Barney Fife was bad man ..." and Molly and Alex both giggled in spite of themselves, having realized that Boris was only trying to lift Kevin’s spirits.

"What he say. Is true," Angie told him, trying to get into the spirit of things. Kevin just stared at her, and she realized she’d better try a different approach. "Look, you came running the moment you thought something had happened to your fiancée, and that is wonderful," she emphasized that last word. "Most men wouldn’t stop what they were doing, they’d just wait until the next time they saw her to find out, but not you. You came because you thought she needed you."

"We have a zero crime rate," Kevin told her, though he wasn’t quite so depressed after hearing her words. "It’s not like I have anything to do around here." Though he still sounded depreciating, it was clear Angie’s words had made him feel a lot better about believing the gossip he had heard.

"No man has ever loved you like that, Angie?" Nub asked her, with a look that was part wonderment that any woman could not have known someone who loved as deeply as Kevin did for Molly. The other part was definitely hopeful that he could be that man for Angie.

"Once," she admitted, then stared at the wallet in her hand. Remembering why she had taken it out, she took a twenty dollar bill from it and offered it to Molly with the checks.

"Give it to Alex, I’m off duty," Molly said, eating the last of her fries.

"Keep the change for a tip for all of you," Angie told Alex.

"Thank you Angie, all of us appreciate it," Alex told her, studying the woman’s face. There was a sadness in Angie’s eyes again, though not as severe as had been when Alex was first introduced to her. The evening’s events had done her some good, at least, Alex thought.

"What happened to him, Angie?" Nub asked her, then quickly added, "Thank you for paying for my dinner. You didn’t have to, you know."

"Yeh, thanks, girlfriend," Callie told Angie, then quickly turned to Nub and said, "Don’t ask personal questions like that, it’s not polite."

"I’m sorry, Angie," Nub told her.

"It’s okay, Nub. It’s just .... " and Angie sighed. "I just don’t want to talk about it right now," and found herself surprised by a yawn.

"We respect that," Molly told Angie. "And you not wanting to talk about it, too," she added, grinning.

"Look at the time," Alex said, changing the subject. "Where is Dylan?" She looked around for her son.
 

"In kitchen with Daniel," Boris told her.

Alex pulled a few bills out of her apron pocket and sorted out a five from the batch. "Do you think this is enough to pay him, Molly?" she asked her friend. "I don’t want to underpay my help, you know," she said with a grin.

"Sure, for his first evening, that’s plenty," Molly said, then found herself yawning as well.

Alex walked over to the kitchen door and pushed it open just as she heard her son say, "Loose lips sink ships."

"Swearing him to secrecy are you Daniel," Alex said, making both of the males look at her with a little worry in their eyes. "Hey, you were having a man to man, that’s cool, I don’t need to know."