by Jules Barker
“It started over a stupid disagreement about scrambled eggs, which I know is ridiculous. I guess we were both a little on edge to start with. But then I remembered what you said.” He paused, leaning his arms forward on his knees.
“What I said about your dad?” Laurel asked.
“Yeah. About him feeling worthless. And that being behind why he did a lot of the stuff I didn’t understand as a kid or even now.”
“So what did you do?”
“I know how hard it can be to open up. It helps if someone else is willing to be vulnerable first. So I convinced him to go get a coffee with me and park at the jetty and… I decided to go first. I told him everything, Lars. About hating mom, and being mad at him, too, for not standing up for himself. How I realized that was unfair of me because I didn’t have the whole picture. I told him how it took me so long to work through in Montana but that I had. And, when I finally looked over at him…”
Nate paused to clear his throat and Laurel felt her own tighten in sympathy.
He looked up at her. “Laurel, he was crying. It was like a dam broke and I was so afraid I hurt him, but… it was so good.” His eyes had a sheen to them, and he laughed and blinked it away. “I never understood how girls said crying could feel good, but I get it now.”
Laurel smiled. “Do you feel lighter?”
“Yes. I really do. We talked it all out. Well, not all. There’s lots more to work through together, but it feels like a real beginning. Not simply walling over something, you know, but tearing out the rotten wood and mold and starting fresh. We can draw a line in our relationship and finally move on.”
“Nate, I’m so happy for you and Dave. And don’t you dare give me the credit for this. I only gave you a hint. You did all the emotional heavy lifting.”
Nate grinned. “At least I’m not completely clueless when it comes to feelings. But you, Lars. You’re a superhero. And I’m not just talking about your gift. You know what to do with it. I’m still astonished that little Laurel grew up to be such a wise woman. Simon’s lucky he’s got you for a sister. I’m almost jealous of him.”
Immediately, the high she felt from his compliment took a nose dive. She didn’t want to be wanted as a sister. “Oh. Yeah. Well, Simon’s kind of an idiot when it comes to emotion so he’d be lucky to have anyone at all.”
Nate started to speak, but was interrupted by a phone call. He checked his screen. “It’s Mangelsson’s. Do you mind?”
Laurel shook her head..
He answered, “Hey, Vick. What’s up? Oh, um, yeah, just give me a minute to get to where I can talk privately.” Standing, he excused himself and left the office.
Laurel sat in her chair. Vick? A private conversation? First she was his emotional Yoda, then he was jealous Simon got her for a sister, and now she had to be left behind so he could have a private conversation with Vick. What was so private about a conversation with a hardware store employee that he couldn’t stay in the room?
Ugh. She was overreacting and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it, either. It was up and down with Nate. On and off. Her whole history with him felt that way. Faux brother, to crush, to rejection, and back to brother again.
Maybe she and Nate needed a clean start to their relationship, too. Or maybe it was only she who needed that. She was the one who couldn’t let go of what she felt all those years ago and was letting it influence her now.
As she stewed, she noticed the retractable pencil Nate had left on the desk.
The one Vicki had given him at the store.
Her fingers itched to grab it, but she pinched them together. She didn’t want to snoop. She wouldn’t pry. Or spy.
But––if she didn’t get right soon and clear her head regarding Nate, she was going to hurt herself or end up ruining their friendship with bitterness.
No debating. She shut off her thoughts and darted forward, grabbing the little tool.
There wasn’t a surge, but it was so easy to cast her mind into it, to pick up the emotions it carried. They were there, right on the surface, easy to read.
Laurel’s mind slid into the middle of a warm spring.
Emotion was gently flowing around her, soft heat caressing her. She didn’t need to dig for sounds or images.
She didn’t want to.
She knew this feeling––and to feel it in his thoughts attached to the pencil Vicki gave him broke her heart more than anything else.
Nate’s steps pulled her from her trance, and she fumbled to replace the tool on the desk.
He came in just as she leaned back in her chair. “Sorry about that.”
Laurel found she couldn’t really focus on what Nate was saying after that––something about one of the other projects he was working on. She paid enough attention to catch that he would be gone to Montana for a week starting July 1.
“Aunt Tammi will be thrilled to hear I’ve patched things up with dad. She was always pushing me to come home and work it out.”
Laurel nodded. “Mmhmm. Great.”
“So, I’ve got about two weeks before I leave. I’ll have your master suite done by then and will just be finishing up some of the other items on your list. But I was thinking, I’m gonna miss having the 4th of July on the island. This town puts on the best celebrations. And, since I’ll be missing the 4th of July, I thought I should make the most of the Solstice. You know, go to the dance, ask a date, the whole nine yards.”
Laurel nodded slowly, dreading where this was going. Nate wouldn’t even need her and Simon pushing him to ask Vicki, would he? But if she was going to have to watch Nate dance with Vicki, she sure didn’t want to have to talk all about it first.
“I think you going to the dance is a great idea,” she said.
“You do?” Nate smiled wide.
“Yeah. And you should definitely ask Vicki. She’s obviously interested in you and you won’t have to worry about her saying no.”
Nate froze, his brows drawing together. He threaded his fingers and stared at the floor.
What? Had he not considered that Vicki might say no to him? No––he wasn’t that arrogant. Maybe he actually did think Vicki would turn him down.
Laurel dug deep for her last reserves of compassion and self-sacrifice. “Really, Nate. I think Vicki would be thrilled to go with you. You’ll have a great time. And, I’ll be there with Gran, of course, so you can always bail if she’s not a good dancer and come hang with us.” Her wink and laugh felt forced, even to her.
But it seemed to help. “Oh yeah, you’ll be there with Gran. I forgot.”
Laurel’s confidence booster seemed to help him. And he seemed relieved knowing she’d be there as backup, too.
“So, I’ll ask Vicki then?”
“Of course!” Laurel stood and walked to the front of the store and Nate followed suit. “Also, Vicki might be new to town, but I’ll bet someone’s in line to ask her also so you’d better hurry over there. I’d go now if I were you.” Laurel hoped he couldn’t tell she was shooing him out of her presence, but she needed to be alone before her composure cracked.
Nate had grabbed the retractable pencil and now he fiddled with it in both hands. “Okay. Will you be home before I’m done working today?”
“No. I have a lot to do here so I’ll probably be here late. But I’ve got my bike and will go home before it gets dark. Oh! I think that’s my phone buzzing, so I’ll see you Sunday. Okay! Bye!”
Laurel left Nate on the porch and darted back into the office to get the phone call she’d made up to escape him. When she was sure he’d left the store, she buried her head in her hands. She pressed her thumbs to the inner corners of her eyes and willed herself not to cry.
She knew the feeling she’d read in Nate’s pencil tool. And it wasn’t all desire and attraction like the blanket at the beach had been.
It was worse.
Because amid the desire in the tool Vicki had given him, Laurel sensed a great deal of tenderness.
He wasn’t just attr
acted to Vicki.
He cared about her deeply.
Laurel’s heart fractured, and she didn’t think she would be able to put it back together again.
17
Dancing in the Moonlight
Laurel couldn’t believe Gran had convinced her to wear this dress. It was a retro party dress in blue satin, with flutter sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, and a three-layered hi-lo hem. With matching gloves, of course. She’d pulled half of her honey-brown hair back in a jeweled clip, and had felt feminine and lovely. But dressing up so much knowing she was going to a starlit dance with her eighty two year-old grandmother while the man she liked was there with an unabashedly sexy woman made her feel like she was trying too hard to win a game she’d already lost.
They arrived fashionably late, as Gran said, and the dance was in full swing. Historic Main had been closed down to even the trolley and bicycles. A large dance floor had been erected leading off the boardwalk and over the sand. Twinkling lights hung around the edges of the dance floor. Tall tables and stools for sitting or standing were spaced around the hard floor and dotted across the sand. The further from the lights, the more shaded and intimate the tables became.
A ten-piece band was playing hits from decades of both recent centuries. Typically casual food vendors brought their dressed up fare to swanky serving areas for those who hadn’t gotten a reservation at Crowthorne’s Catch tonight. A silent auction sponsored by the Women’s Club was running along the northern boardwalk. Even the ferry at the south end of the beach had strung lights across its railings and would do an extra late-night run for tourists who stayed into the early hours. The hum and chatter of couples strolling and dancing under the light of a waxing moon filled in the spaces between songs, all backed up by the gentle shirring of the ocean.
Laurel held Gran’s arm as they made their way past the silent auction and around the edges to the dining and dancing areas. There was a large crowd and Laurel wanted to avoid touching as many people as possible. She had already skipped the new moon cleansing this month which left her feeling stretched thin emotionally. Filtering was harder the longer it had been since a cleanse and she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to filter tonight, let alone control any surges that might take her by surprise.
Gran, who knew only a little of Laurel’s emotional turmoil, still knew that Laurel was on edge and wanted to protect her. Who was helping whom was up for debate as they held each other’s arms while walking around the crowd.
Laurel spotted open tables on the sand but wasn’t sure Gran or her own silver heels would handle the sand well in the dark. Then, from a table midway down the side of the dance floor on the south side, she saw Nate waving to her. Why did he have to be so handsome? In a dusky blue slim-fit dress shirt and his tousled curls, he was better suited for leaning against the railing of a yacht than just flagging her over to his table.
As she and Gran wove through the crowd, Laurel finally got a clearer view of the table and saw Vicki standing beside him. She was hard to miss in a hot pink sheath with a single asymmetrical ruffle running down the front. It was bold and stunning and sexy.
Laurel immediately swallowed her own feelings of naive girlishness in comparison.
Once they were within earshot, Nate pulled out a stool for Gran. “We can share a table with two more lovely ladies. There’s plenty of room.”
“Hi, I’m Vicki Larsen.” Vicki stuck out her hand and gave Gran a megawatt smile. “I’m Nate’s date tonight.”
Laurel tuned out Gran’s response and the rest of the introduction. When Nate offered to go fetch them all drinks, she was left alone with Vicki and Gran.
“So how do you like your master suite? Nate says it’s going to be fantastic,” Vicki said.
“I’m sure it will be.” All the better for her to hide away in it alone for the rest of her life.
Gran nudged her. What? Laurel added a bland smile in Vicki’s direction.
Gran huffed and took the conversational reins, steering it to Vicki’s work and the joys of living on a small island where everyone knew everyone’s business. Well, not exactly that. But Laurel couldn’t find the emotional energy to invest herself in small talk. Her tongue felt like glue, but thankfully Gran could talk to anyone and save the day.
When Nate came back, he handed the drinks around. He gave Laurel hers last and their fingers brushed as she took it from him.
Laurel could hardly get out more than a thank you. When she looked up a few moments later, he was watching her. Gran and Vicki were discussing Gran’s upcoming Alaskan cruise, with Vicki gushing about how much she enjoyed her cruises to the Caribbean, when Nate leaned over.
“Doing okay tonight, Lars? Is it too crowded for you?”
The concern in his eyes and his assumption it was her magic made guilt squirm in her stomach. She was choking on her own jealousy and she knew it. She needed to get over herself, fast. She was about to come up with some excuse for Nate when Vicki put a manicured hand on his shoulder.
“This is one of my favorite songs. Want to dance?”
Nate hesitated a second, then agreed and took Vicki to the dance floor.
Laurel did her best not to follow them with her eyes.
Don’t look. Don’t care.
“Laurel, honey, I don’t know what’s eating you up tonight––and we’re certainly going to talk it out later––but until then your mood is going to ruin the night for everyone if you don’t get it under control.” Gran stared her down until Laurel nodded in understanding.
Gran laid her wrinkled hand over Laurel’s. “Life’s too short to let anything spoil a fancy dance in a stunning dress. There’s time for tears later.” She winked.
Gran squeezed her hand, and Laurel squeezed back.
The moment was interrupted when Mr. Norman, in a brown suit complete with a bow tie, asked Gran to dance. They took to the dance floor and Laurel couldn’t help smiling when she saw them together, Gran in her spangled-blue shift, two-stepping it beneath the stars.
Alone at the table, Laurel pulled her shoulders back and decided she refused to feel sorry for herself. She had a gorgeous dress, a ten-piece band, and a night full of starlight to enjoy. And, as Gran said, there would be time for tears later.
Laurel forced a smile and shared it with anyone and everyone in general until soon her smile became real. Funny how that happened. She was just debating whether to get another drink when Rigel Wardwell asked her to dance. Laurel’s smile grew. She adored dancing.
Rigel wasn’t a great dancer, but he was friendly and engaging. After Rigel, Cal Monaghan claimed her hand, then “Sweet Pete” Dawson, who was probably her dad’s age and one of the nicest neighbors.
As Laurel danced, she kept an eye on Gran, who was now chatting with Betty Lou at their table. Nate and Vicki were dancing most dances together, occasionally taking a break at the table. Though she tried not to, she couldn’t help being acutely aware of Nate and Vicki’s whereabouts. Of every time Vicki threw back her head and laughed or ran her manicured nails down Nate’s arm. Laurel was a very distracted dance partner.
“Sweet Pete” returned Laurel to her table, then turned to Vicki, who was texting on her phone while Nate was fetching hors d'oeuvres for Gran and Betty Lou. He didn’t leave, but instead turned to Vicki. “Care to dance with an old fisherman?” he asked.
Vicki smiled. “Any time one cares to ask me.” She followed him to the dance floor, and Laurel churned with bitterness that Vicki was genuinely content to dance with him. It would be easier to hate her if she was 100% awful.
Nate waved at Vicki and Pete as he passed them returning with plates of finger foods.
“Oh, you heavenly boy! I’m simply famished. Thank you for getting these for us,” Gran said. She tossed him a crisp bill from her purse as Betty Lou popped one of the mini-quiches in her mouth.
“They didn’t cost that much, Miss Amelia.”
“Consider the rest a tip for the handsome server.” Gran winked at him.
“What?” he asked, noticing Laurel watching him. “You know it’s rude to refuse a lady like Miss Amelia.” He grinned.
Laurel only shook her head. She took off her gloves and was about to reach for a stuffed mushroom when Nate touched her elbow. “Want to dance with me, Laurel?”
Oh. She did. Did she care whether she should or not? Not enough in that moment to say no like she should. “I’d love to.”
Laurel discreetly wiped her hand on the tablecloth, then took Nate’s and followed him to the dance floor.
The music was a lively swing, thankfully. Soon Laurel found herself laughing as Nate spun her out, then back in again. His steps had a tiny bit of cowboy twang to them, probably from the years in Montana, but he was a good dancer. The speed of the dance loosened her muscles and calmed her nerves. This was fun. Dancing with Nate could be simple fun.
The lights spun around them as she twirled and Nate’s laughter warmed the ocean breeze on her skin.
The song ended and Laurel leaned against Nate’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath even as she laughed. She was about to take his arm to return to the table when the band transitioned into a slow number.
Nate paused, a question in his eyes, and Laurel hesitated. To swing dance with him was a return to playfulness. To slow dance with him...she worried she would feel it in a way she knew he didn’t. But she couldn’t resist. What if this was her one chance?
She nodded, and he took her in his arms.
She was only hurting herself.
He had one hand on her back and held her hand in his other, moving his thumb in lazy circles over her skin. They swayed to the music, like waves on the shore, and it was so comfortable in his arms.
When she realized she was melting into him, she lied. She told herself it was a good thing, that this level of comfort and safety was because of their long history and because he’d seen her crying over a dead pet and raging over Simon’s antics and snot-nosed and acne-faced and everything in-between. She told herself it wasn’t because she was in love with a man who was out of her reach.
