Seth

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Seth Page 6

by Tess Oliver


  “Does that really happen?”

  “I’ve read of it, but I guess it’s too late. I’ll bet you didn’t laugh at Gage when he told you about his forever girl, and he was a way bigger player than me.”

  “Hell no I didn’t laugh. Gage scares the shit out of me. You, I have no fear of. Hey, since you’re not working, why don’t you come up to Gage’s ranch with us? We’re going in July.”

  “And spend a couples’ retreat with all of you? No thanks.”

  “Bring this girl. I promise we won’t embarrass you . . . too much.”

  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed out the orange juice. “Yeah, that’s the thing. She might be my forever girl, but I’m most definitely not her forever guy. Or first date guy either, for that matter.” I waited for more laughter. It came on cue.

  “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve finally found someone, and she doesn’t like you? That’s fucking rich. You know what they call that, bro? They call that karma.” I heard Angel’s voice in the background, but it wasn’t clear enough to understand. “Yeah O.K.,” Luke said, with his mouth away from the phone. “Angel is reminding me that I’m stacking up my own shitty karma by being so mean to you.” He laughed again. “Who cares. Totally worth it.”

  There was a quiet scuffle and then Angel came on. “Don’t give up, Seth. She’ll come around, and if she doesn’t, then it’s her loss.”

  “Thank for the pep talk. Now my humiliation is complete. No wait. I’m sure Luke will call Gage with the fun news. Then it will be complete.”

  Luke took the phone back. “Think about coming up to Montana next month. We haven’t hung out together in a long time. I won’t even bring up this conversation again . . . too often.”

  “Up yours. You wouldn’t be so damn cocky if you didn’t have someone like Angel. I’ll think about Montana. Later.”

  “Take it easy, bro.”

  I put the phone down and sucked back the last drops of orange juice. I washed up, yanked on my shorts and joined Rocko on the beach.

  I pulled the rickety chair up next to him. The June fog cover had just started to clear, and most of the Saturday day trippers hadn’t arrived yet. Because of Rocko’s sandwich, the gulls were swarming the sand in front of our place. They formed a long wall of silvery gray feathers around us. I looked over at my sandwich gobbling roommate. His black beard and chest were covered in bread crumbs.

  I laughed. “You better watch out, or those birds will be going after your beard.”

  He leaned over the arm of the chair and brushed the crumbs into the sand before I could warn him. Instantly, the birds stood up, squawked in excitement and ran toward the cascade of crumbs. “Crap, you’d think they hadn’t eaten in days. Aren’t you all supposed to be eating fish?”

  “Not when there is people food in abundance right on shore.” I lifted my sunglasses to get a better view of the figure walking along the beach. The wide brimmed hat made her easy to recognize, even from a distance. Grace turned and walked toward us, having a hard time holding onto her hat and keeping balance in the sand. There were several red plastic strawberries glued to a red ribbon on the base of the crown. The girl loved her fancy hats. Unfortunately, so did the birds. After gobbling the crumbs from the sand, they turned to watch her draw nearer with her colorful hat.

  “Now why the heck would she wear that on the beach? A good gust of wind is going to fly under that thing and lift her away,” Rocko said, still continuing to litter his beard with food.

  “It seemed you two were sort of hitting it off last night,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I thought there was something there, but I’m sure I’m just dreaming. I tend to do that around cute girls.”

  Apparently, the strawberries were far more real looking to a seagull. A good half dozen of them took to the air to hover over Grace as she continued her journey toward us. At first, she glanced up from beneath the brim of the hat and shooed them away with a wave of her hand. But being seagulls, that had basically learned that anything goes when it’s food on the beach, they continued to stake out the new patch of ripe red fruit moving across the sand. One of the braver gulls dove toward the hat. Grace screamed and waved her arm more frantically this time.

  I looked over at Rocko, who had just shoved the last piece of sandwich into his mouth. He shook his head as if the scene in front of him was just some entertainment on a television screen. Another bird dove at Grace. She screamed as it made contact with the fake berry on top. Another bird came from behind, and she picked up to a run, but human feet on sand were no match for wings in the air.

  “Holy fucking hell, Rocko. This is why I have more luck with girls.”

  He looked at me, still coated with crumbs like a piece of tempura shrimp. “Huh? What do you mean?”

  I leaned closer. “This is your fucking chance, dude.”

  Grace’s screams curled up from underneath the hat that she now held tightly to her head. She was on her knees, close to forming a fetal position.

  Even with the clues I’d given Rocko, it took him a second to understand. He hopped up from his chair like Superman and plodded toward the Hitchcock scene happening fifteen feet away. Seagulls cried angrily at him as he waved his meaty fists at them, backing them away from the fake fruit.

  He lowered his hand and pulled a shaken Grace to her feet. She took off the hat and leaned into his arms to cry. Rocko was stunned enough to just stand frozen for a few seconds, before curling his arms around her.

  Done. At least for now. I didn’t have tons of faith in Rocko to figure stuff out on his own. It seemed there was still hope for him yet. Now if I could find something in my playbook to help my own situation.

  Chapter 8

  Seth

  Fins. I’d convinced myself I needed a pair of body surfing fins. I had plenty of diving fins but none that were suited for body surfing. And, it seemed, I would have plenty of free time to get in the water and play. Besides, buying fins gave me a good reason to go into Maverick’s, giving me the perfect opportunity to run into Noelle. While I was feeling a little put off and uncharacteristically insecure about the whole thing, I also refused to give up so easily. I was competing with another guy, a guy who she’d been soul mates with, a guy whose memory had wrapped itself around her heart so securely, it was never going away.

  Three steps away from the door of the shop, I had a brief change of heart, deciding this was probably just a waste of time. She wasn’t interested, and that was the end of it. But I still opened the door. The second Noelle glanced up from a catalog on the counter, I changed back to thinking she was well worth the effort and highly possible humiliation. Her brown eyes glittered under the seashell covered chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Her mouth tilted up slightly. It was enough of a smile to give me a flicker of hope and bolster my confidence.

  There were two girls standing at the suit rack searching for bathing suits, but otherwise, the shop was empty of customers, probably not good for a Sunday afternoon. Duke came around the corner to greet me, and I gave the dog a hearty rub.

  Noelle’s smile grew as I neared the counter. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I have a hankering for a pair of body surfing fins.”

  “A hankering, is it? Sounds like you’re about to sit down to a southern feast of corn bread and fried chicken.”

  “Jeez, that sounds good. Is there a place I can get that around here?”

  She laughed and came around the counter. “Not around here, but if you’re willing to fly to Georgia, my grandmother’s chicken and dumplings will bring tears to a hungry man’s eyes. That’s how she landed my grandpa, or at least that’s what she says. Of course, he’ll tell you it was her long legs that swayed him.” She stopped. “What is it about you that always makes me just jabber on like that?”

  “Have one of those faces, I guess.”

  She peered up at me, and for a long moment, we looked at each other. She was the first to look away. “I’ll show you
the swim fins.” I followed her to the display. “I still feel terrible that you lost your job last night. I’d like to do something to make it up to you.”

  I lifted a brow. “Yes, I’m listening.”

  She sighed. “A discount. I was going to offer you a ten percent discount on the fins.”

  “Oh, that works too. Especially since I’ll be living out of a cardboard box and sharing crumbs with the birds for the rest of summer.”

  Her mouth dropped. She had the most delectable bottom lip, but I thought better of mentioning it to her.

  “I’m joking of course, about the cardboard box and crumbs. If things get tight, I can always find something to do.”

  “Twenty percent, I’ll take off twenty percent because now I’m feeling extra guilty.” She reached up to the shelf. “These are the kind Greg, the owner, uses. He always recommends them.”

  “If a pro like him recommends them, how can I go wrong?”

  She glanced down at my feet. “Extra large?”

  “Why, yes as a matter of fact,” I said with another lame eyebrow lift. She rolled her eyes, and I made a mental note to stop acting like Seth Barringer or give it up right now. “O.K. I promise that was my last suggestive brow lift.”

  She grabbed a box from the shelf and motioned for me to follow her to the counter. She moved over to the register. The customers at the bikini rack were laughing about something. Then the one with curly brown hair and a rose tattoo on her neck came over to the counter holding a bright blue suit. “Excuse me,” she said, but it was me she was looking at.

  I pointed to Noelle to let the girl know I didn’t work there.

  She found that extremely funny. “I just wanted your opinion.” She held the bikini up in front of her. What do you think, head turner or not?”

  I looked down at the suit and nodded. “You’ll be grabbing plenty of attention your direction in that suit.”

  She released another uber-laugh, the term Luke and I had come up with to describe a fake, awkward laugh. She winked at me. “Thanks. Good to know.”

  “Anytime.” She walked away.

  I turned back to Noelle. She was hiding a grin. “I guess you’ve earned your good deed points today,” she said.

  I handed her my credit card and pulled my buzzing phone out.

  It was a text and photo from Gage. “Check out what a bear did to my tent while I was on the job site. The only thing inside was a box of stale crackers.” I opened the picture of an extremely shredded tent sitting in the middle of a logging camp. I turned the phone toward Noelle. “Look at this. My brother is a logger up in Montana. A bear shredded his heavy duty canvas tent as if it had been made of tissue.”

  She leaned closer. “Oh my gosh, was your brother hurt?”

  “No, he was at work.” I texted back. “I told him he had to stop burning those Oreo scented candles in his tent.”

  She laughed but Noelle’s wasn’t an uber-laugh. Everything about her was real, which might very well have been the thing I was attracted to the most.

  “Gage is your older brother, the one who was always getting into trouble?”

  “Yep, he’s twenty-seven. Not that Luke and I were angels, but Gage and my dad, they used to butt heads a lot. My dad sent Gage to Montana to live with our grandfather. Luke and I were bummed to see him go, and I know it hurt Gage to know that my dad had given up on him. But life on a Montana ranch turned Gage around. I’d show you a picture of him, but girls tend to get very giddy and flushed when they see a picture of him.”

  She looked at me. “You realize that now I have to see his picture.” She held the bag with the fins closer to her, as leverage.

  “Fine, but I’m going to find an unflattering one . . .” I flipped through screen after screen of photos. “Here he is looking grumpy on his couch, a look that he pulls off well.”

  She glanced at my phone and then pulled it from my fingers. “This is supposed to be unflattering? Wow.”

  “See, there you go, giddiness. My brother is notorious for it.”

  She handed me back the phone. “I guess it’s a gene that runs in the family.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant from what I’ve seen from other girls.” She motioned back to the bathing suit rack. “I should have had you point out the more expensive bikinis on the other side.”

  A man with long, silvery blond hair, weathered skin and a faded Mr. Zog’s Sex Wax t-shirt came out from the back office. He wore a pair of reading glasses on a chain around his neck, the only thing about him that didn’t scream surfer. “Hey, Greg, this is the man I told you about, the one who told Rice to get lost last night.”

  I was trying not to read too much into the idea that she’d talked to him about me. I mean, it was obvious we all had a common enemy now. It was nothing more than that.

  Greg walked over and shook my hand. You could almost see the layers of sun, salt and wind on his creased skin. “Thank you so much. Seth, right?”

  “Yes, Seth Barringer.”

  “I’m sorry that dickless weasel fired you. But I imagine as a welder, you can find other work easily.”

  “I’m actually an underwater welder just taking a break from the deep blue sea. But I’ll hang around the beach for the summer months before heading back to the port. There’s always plenty of work there. Just have to find stuff to keep me busy for now.”

  “I’m sure a guy like you can find plenty to keep himself occupied.” He shot me a conspiratorial wink. He went behind the counter to search for something, then popped his head up. “Wait a minute. I’m restoring an old boat, a Lyman Islander. I could use some help. Can’t pay you much, but I’ll provide food and beer.”

  Noelle’s face brightened at the suggestion, which naturally made the whole idea sound even more appealing. “Believe me, there’s a lot more beer drinking than restoration going on,” she said.

  “Sounds too good to turn down.”

  Greg grinned. “Horton’s Marina off Thorn St. I’m in the fourth slip on the right. Can’t miss it. It’s the only boat out there that has more wood than fiberglass. I’ll be out there tomorrow from nine to twelve.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Great, that’s great.” He pulled out a disposable lighter from under the register and disappeared to the backroom again.

  Noelle handed me the fins. “Thank you. For volunteering, I mean.” She looked the direction Greg had walked. “He raised Hayden, and he’s felt his lost just as keenly as me. Most of his friends have hung up their boards for good and moved away from the coast. Sometimes, I catch him sitting there looking so completely alone, it breaks my heart. This will be good for him. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, you are charming and enjoyable to be around.”

  I held back a reply to her compliment, thinking I would probably just blow it and take this whole thing back another few steps. “You know something, it’ll be good for me too.”

  “By the way,” she said, “I have Wednesday off.” Her long lashes fluttered down as she wiped at an invisible spot on the glass in front of her. Then she lifted her face to me, and all I could think was that she was like no one I’d ever met. Everything about her had my head spinning, and I wasn’t used to feeling this way. Shit, would Luke have a field day with this.

  “If you wanted to try out those new fins, I know a great place to go.” She shook her head almost as if she was completely regretting what she’d just done. “Not a date, you understand? Just body surfing.”

  “I would like that,” I said, before she yanked back the invite.

  “Great,” she replied, now sounding even less confident. This was agony for her, and it was hard watching her trying to silently assure herself that this was all right.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  It took her a second to lift her eyes to me.

  “Why don’t you call me if you need to cancel.” I reached for the pad of paper and pen near the register and wrote down my number. “Otherwise, you’l
l have to promise not to laugh at my form. It’s been awhile since I’ve body surfed.”

  She nodded but didn’t say any more.

  I could feel her watching me as I walked out. Tiny steps, that was what it was going to take with her. But, she was worth it.

  Chapter 9

  Seth

  Greg waved to me with one hand while holding a sander in the other. The hull and ribs of the boat were painted a shiny white and red. The outside had obviously been restored to its former glory before being set in the water, but the wood deck and paneling along the stern and bow were a splintery gray, faded by salt, water and time.

  “Come on in, she’s sea worthy . . . now.” Greg waved his arm around the deck. “As you can see, I’ve got a bit of work to do on the interior. She sat in the elements for a good five years before someone took pity on the old girl and stored her in a barn for a few decades.”

  “She’s a beauty.” I climbed onto deck. “What year?”

  “She’s a fifty-six. Almost as ancient as me.” He reached into an ice chest and held up a water bottle.

  “Nah, I’m good for now.”

  “It’s a little early for beer.” Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint and held it up.

  “Can’t. Random drug testing at work. But go right ahead.” I glanced around. There were a few people on some of the boats. Three men looked as if they were just about to cast off for a day of fishing. “Will you be using this just to cruise or are you going to fish?”

  “Both, I suppose. I take her out occasionally, just to keep the newly restored engine running smoothly. Noelle doesn’t like to come aboard much because, and I quote, ‘I always leave with enough splinters in my butt to resemble a porcupine.’” He held up the sander. “Got one for you too.”

 

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