From her kitchen in the Coral Cafe, Marina looked outside to see a yellow food truck emblazoned with a logo of a submarine sandwich and the words, Yellow Submarines, pull into the parking area. With a surge of excitement, she quickly finished a tray of canapés for a friend’s wedding and set it aside. After shrugging out of her stained chef jacket, she hurried toward the vehicle.
Yellow SubmarinesA trim woman stepped out to greet her. She wore jeans and a bright shirt that matched her vehicle.
Marina shielded her eyes against the summer sun reflecting off the ocean beyond. “Thanks for bringing the truck by for me to see.”
The woman introduced herself as Judith. Her dark blue eyes were a startling contrast with her dark, silver-shot hair, and she had a happy air about her. “No problem. I
