by Lillie Vale
Taken aback, I stared.
“Bonnie?”
“Are you just going through all the Bs?” I asked.
“Hold on, I’ll get it in a minute.” He eyed me for a long, inscrutable moment.
“You’re not going to get it,” I said with confidence.
He shot me a cheeky grin. “Hey, I’m on a winning streak right now. I’m really good at this.”
“Could have fooled me,” I muttered, but not so loud that he’d hear.
Levi kept his eyes on my face, brow furrowed deep like he was calculating the odds.
I folded my arms across my chest. He wasn’t going to get it.
“Barbara,” he said slowly, deliberately.
What?!
Okay, now that was pretty weird. I thought for sure I’d have him guessing for at least another ten names. Barbara wasn’t really modern, and I always got a double take when I introduced myself by my full name.
He saw the twitch of my lips and his own smile bloomed. “Ha, guessed it,” he crowed.
“Lucky guess,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. I fought off my smile, trying not to be charmed by his silly grin—a losing battle.
Levi’s eyes crinkled. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
I hadn’t gone by Barbara since first grade, when the teacher told the class to let her know if we went by a nickname. But he just looked so proud of himself that I let him have his win. It was oddly endearing, and anyway, it wasn’t like we’d be seeing each other enough for the antiquated name to bug me, anyway.
“I’m tempted to put you to the test in guessing other things,” I said.
“Go for it.”
“Not scared I’ll disprove your ESP?” I teased.
“Nah.”
I was tempted to poke a little hole in his confidence. But then I remembered Lucy was waiting for me back at Busy’s. With reluctance, I cleared my throat. “Sadly, gotta head back to work.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I acknowledged with a dip of my head, unable to bite back my smile. “You know where I’ll be. And you have my number, so, um, just call me or drop by Busy’s if you need anything, all right?”
“Aye, aye.” One side of Levi’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “See you soon.”
* * *
I’d made it back from the house just in time to catch the tail end of Busy’s lunch rush, and in between plating up sandwiches, soups, and salads, I gave Lucy the entire play-by-play.
“Are you serious?” Lucy’s squeal was deafening. “He’s the one renting your mom’s house?”
The regulars didn’t look up. We were all used to her frequent high-pitched noises.
I laughed, swabbing the counter with renewed vigor. “Yeah, I know. I was…” I trailed off, unable to put it into words. “Surprised,” I said after a long pause. “Crazy coincidence, right?”
“This is perfect,” said Lucy. “You don’t have an excuse anymore. He’s staying in town for the next eight weeks. You could totally ask him out.” Her eyes shone. “He’s gorgeous, B. This is meet-cute material, I swear.”
“Meet-cute? You’ve been watching too many rom-coms.”
She tilted her head. “And you haven’t been with anyone in ages…”
I’d been with Elodie, but no one except Chad and Penny knew that. I shook my head. “Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m lonely. I have my friends.”
“Sure,” said Lucy, “but having a partner is different from having a friend. You can’t just hold your friend’s hand whenever you want to, or kiss them good morning, or … you know?”
She had a point, but the idea of getting to know someone new wasn’t as easy as she made it sound.
I grabbed her hand. “See? I’m holding your hand right now.”
“Okay, okay!” She pulled her hand free and laughed. “But you get my point.”
“I can’t hit on my renter,” I pointed out, forcing a grin, though I felt far from amused. “‘Owner’s daughter hits on guests’ is not what I want to see on TripAdvisor, thank you very much.”
“Why’d ya have to make it sound so sleazy?” Lucy complained over the gurgles and glugs of the dishwasher.
“We don’t even know if he’s single,” I reminded her. “Or if he’s interested in dating anyone. Besides, he’s just here for the summer.” I chose not to share with her that he’d called me “cute.” Lucy would read too much into it.
She rolled her eyes. “Details, details.”
“Not everyone’s as lucky as you and Lorcan,” I said. “You two make it look easy. It’s been, what, two years?”
“Yeah.” Lucy gave me a curious look. “Hasn’t Penny been with Chad for way longer, though?”
“Oh, right. Yeah. She has.” I gave the rim of the mug a furious swipe, wishing I could scrub the words out of Lucy’s mouth in as easy a gesture. My sun-bleached hair escaped the crook of my ear and fell into my face.
On reflex, my hand shot up to push my hair behind my ear. The movement drew my eye to the gold butterfly ring on my middle finger, a birthday present from Chad.
Chad. I still had no idea what to say to him. How to even talk to him after what we did. The one thing I knew was that it would be way easier than talking to Penny.
“Babe?” Lucy touched my shoulder. “I know I’m not Penny, but you can talk to me. You’ve looked kinda edgy all morning. Don’t just say you’re fine.” She looked at me sternly. “Not unless you mean it.”
Well, Lucy would find out eventually. “Chad and Penny broke up,” I said. “That’s why she’s not competing with him in the sandcastle competition.”
Lucy’s eyes widened before she squeezed them tight in a wince. “Oh, shit. I knew I said something to make things weird, but I didn’t know—”
“It wasn’t you,” I said. “It was already weird. She totally put me in the middle.”
“What do you mean?”
“She didn’t exactly break up with him right. So I had to take care of it.”
There was a long, drawn-out silence. Lucy watched me wash the same mug over and over in what was, I knew, an aimless endeavor.
“You’re kidding,” she said. “She actually asked you to do that?”
“She needed me,” I said, because it felt disloyal to say anything else. Even if I wanted to. And then, because I needed to tell someone, and I definitely wasn’t ready to tell Penny yet, I said, “He kissed me.”
Lucy lowered her voice. “What? He just decided to up and kiss you? That fast?”
I waited for her to tell me I was a terrible friend, that I had to come clean, that I was in the wrong—but she didn’t. Her eyes welled with sympathy. Sympathy for me. Surprise and relief surged through me. Lucy was on my side.
She sighed and reached over to turn the tap off, forcing me to stop rubbing at the mug. “You’ll wash the paint right off,” she said with a forced, cheerful smile. She held her hand out and I passed her the mug, which she dried off with a drying rag and replaced with the others.
I snagged the black elastic on my wrist and looped my hair through. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
“Sorry.” Lucy exhaled. “I can’t believe that she—wait, can I just say this one thing before we drop it?” I nodded. “I can’t believe she had you do that! They’ve been together forever! She owed him more than—and him! What is up with him? Didn’t he care that he’d just been dumped? He just … he kissed you? Just like that?”
My hands tangled in a snarl of blonde hair as I wound my hair into a sloppy bun. She’d just voiced so much of what I was thinking, and her outrage felt like a warm, safe blanket wrapping around my shoulders. I shot Lucy a smile. “Thank you.”
She made a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat, like a cat working out a hairball.
“Trust me,” I said. “Anything that you’re thinking has already gone through my mind. Multiplied by a thousand. Raised to the power of freaking out.”
My perf
ect summer was in jeopardy, and no boy, no matter how cute he was, would be able to save it. Only I could do that. With some serious CPR, although this time I’d stay as far away from mouth-to-mouth as possible.
I waved at a few customers on their way out the door, savoring the salty breeze that swept in along with our boss, Tom. He lifted his hand to tip an invisible hat, and his gruff voice called out, “Not too late for a sandwich, is it?”
“Coming right up!” I promised, already slicing into a round of blue cheese. I pulled away a creamy, marbled wedge and set it aside. “Hey, Lucy, can you—”
She was already on it. “Done, and done!” she pronounced, showing me two slices of rustic, thick-cut bread grilling in the pan, surrounded by a light, buttery froth.
We worked in unison, Lucy slathering apricot jam over one slice while I put blue cheese on the other, spreading it evenly with a butter knife. Then, while I began putting ingredients away, she stuffed arugula leaves between the slices and put the sandwich in the panini press.
“How’s the day been, ladies?” Tom asked, leaning against the counter. He raked his eyes over our clean workspace.
I had to answer before Lucy did. Quickly, I jumped in. “Pretty good. Had a few new people come in for lunch,” I said, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach as I vividly remembered yesterday’s blue-eyed customer.
The butterflies beat their wings in steady, insistent flap flap flaps.
“Looks like tourist season is going to hit us any day,” said Tom.
“I’m already seeing more out-of-state license plates,” added Lucy.
Tom grunted, scratching at his wiry black stubble. “Right on schedule. I always love to see ’em come, and I love to see ’em go.”
We didn’t need reminding. Tourists were all anyone in Oar’s Rest could think about in the days leading up to T-Day.
The sandwich sizzled inside the panini press, fragrant sweetness spiraling upward when I lifted the lid to take a look. Using a spatula, I slid the perfectly golden sandwich to a plate. “Dig in.”
Tom grinned around a mouthful of his first bite. Lucy and I exchanged a smile—we both knew how much Tom loved a savory grilled cheese with just the right amount of ooze.
“Everything come in okay?” He chewed, swallowed. “Ariel around?”
I thought of the new inventory still boxed and taped in the storeroom. Lucy’s eyes were on me as I cleared my throat and said, “Um, well … she took off earlier for her lunch break.”
Tom frowned. “Again?” At my nod, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Hiring her was a mistake. She seemed so earnest.” He rested his cheek against his palm, the worry lines at the corners of his eyes deepening.
“Everyone’s like that at the interview,” I offered, compelled to wipe the dejection from his face. “I mean, even we”—I gestured at Lucy—“wanted to impress you.”
“The difference is that you girls have continued to impress me ever since you walked into the interview.” A fond smile stole across his face. “Do you think she should get another chance to impress us?”
“No,” said Lucy.
I gave a half-hearted shrug. I’d never fired anyone before.
“Well, let me know. No sense throwing more good money after bad if that girl isn’t earning her wages.” Tom pushed his plate toward us. “Lunch was great.”
As Tom ambled to his usual table in the back, waiting for his buddy Ralph to come in for their daily chess game, I let out a heavy sigh.
Lucy sucked in her cheeks. “Y’know, there’s such a thing as being too nice a manager.” She paused. “I hope you aren’t going to give her another chance. She doesn’t deserve the free pass.”
For a brief second, the wild thought raced through my mind that if I earned myself some karma points, maybe the universe would reward me with some goodwill and make things less weird with Penny. Ugh, but that wasn’t how good deeds worked, was it? You had to do things selflessly.
“Babe.” Lucy poked my arm.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said reluctantly. “But if it was me, I’d really hope someone would give me that second chance.” I wasn’t just talking about work.
Lucy shook her head. “You can’t always count on having a second chance. Sometimes you just get the one roll of the dice. Bam. You’re done. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”
She was right. She was absolutely right. Just as I was about to tell her so, I was cut off by the soft chime of the door opening, the bell knocking against wood. I opened my mouth with an automatic greeting, faltering when I saw who came in. The surprise was sucked out of me and replaced with something infinitely more complicated.
“Hey, Babe.” Penny shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls with an easy smile. The purple lace of her crop top peeked through the gaping armholes. “Can I get an iced coffee to go?”
I tuned out the background chatter as I made her drink, guilt tightening around my chest like a too-tight shirt. We went through the usual motions of Hey, what’s up? and Just a busy day, you? but every time I looked at her, all I could see was her and Chad. Me and Chad.
Penny rubbed at a dark, sooty mark on her cheekbone. Looking at me from under hooded lids, she seemed to be waiting for me to say something.
I snapped the lid in place and slid the drink to her. “So how was work today?”
Penny had enrolled in a two-year marine technology program at Oar’s Rest Tech so she could be a boat mechanic. She’d managed to get herself an apprenticeship over the summer for some on-the-job training. Since we were kids, she’d loved boats, whether they were on the open water or docked at the marina. For her eighteenth birthday, her parents had given her a houseboat of her own, but she’d only started living there after graduation.
“Great!” she said, her dark eyes lighting up. “Next week Rolly’s going to teach me how to scuba underwater to pressure wash the underside of a boat.”
“To get the algae off?”
“Yeah.” Her shrug held a hint of nonchalance. “He’s making me earn my stripes by teaching me how to scrape a boat on land first.”
I winced in sympathy. The scum line on the hull, not to mention the other stains from rust and deposits, was notoriously difficult to remove. “That’ll take forever.”
“He says I’ve got to use some elbow grease to learn respect for the vessel.” She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “Put in the time and do it right.”
For a moment, things were normal again. But her words plucked at me—had I already earned my stripes with Penny, or did I still have a way to go? We’d been friends for years. Surely we were at the point where I could tell her about that moment of madness on the beach. That I didn’t want to be with Chad, but that if she was okay with it—and only if she was okay with it—I’d love to win first with him this year in the sandcastle competition.
My stomach twisted. If I told her Chad and I had kissed, everything I wanted this summer to be would go up in flames.
“I’m having a party on my boat this weekend,” said Penny. “It’ll be fun to get a little crazy before the tourists get here.” Looking embarrassed, she ducked her head and clutched her plastic cup. “And I’m going to be pretty busy at the art center this summer. I, um, took Chad’s suggestion about enrolling in a couple of classes. So it’d be cool to spend some time now while we still have it?” She looked like she wanted to say more.
I sucked in my lip. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll try.”
It shouldn’t have been so weird, and a big part of that was my fault. But without the third person in our trio, my relationship with Penny felt like it didn’t fit. Or maybe it was me who didn’t fit.
Penny seemed to take my answer for what it was. She shifted on her feet, nodding. “Did you and Chad get all signed up for the sandcastle competition?”
I tried to dissect her words. Even though I hunted for an undercurrent, there wasn’t one. Carefully, I said, “Not yet. I’ll do it after work.”
“Cool.”
She lifted the cup. “See ya!”
After she left, for one quick, hard stab of a moment, I wished everything could go back to the way things used to be. Before we graduated. Before Penny asked me to handle the fallout with Chad for her. Before Chad kissed me. Before I let him.
Life wasn’t meant to be preserved in amber, though. Already, the soft-focus memory of being seventeen was blurry around the edges. It was like clinging to a cloud. At seventeen, life had been perfect. Invincible. I had my friends, my girlfriend, my mom. Then poof, all gone. How had things gotten so complicated? Was it like this for everyone? How did you hold on to your life when it was changing so fast?
four
Days passed, Thursday sneaking up on me in the blink of an eye. It was the summer of everything and nothing. Sleepy starts and sleepy ends.
No one was in a hurry to do anything because we all knew these were the last few days of summer when the town belonged to us, the people who had been here all along.
But soon, the mornings began with the peppering of hammer falls all over the town as local businesses started getting ready for the tourists. HELP WANTED signs went up, gift shop windows filled with new displays, and flowers bloomed in the streets.
Even Busy’s did our part with newly painted trims and soaped and shined windows overlooking boxes of geraniums and lavender. A faint smell of paint lingered, so we’d put our fans on to clear the air.
“Must be almost tourist season!” Lucy remarked cheerfully as she pulled the ice-cold French press out of the fridge. Her bubbly vivaciousness couldn’t be dampened, not even by the oppressive blanket of humidity that threatened to send my soft waves billowing into Hermione Granger circa Sorcerer’s Stone hair.
“Must be,” I agreed, watching her give the press a swish.
Busy’s was the local watering hole for everyone in need of an afternoon coffee break, and iced coffee seemed to be the order of the day. Already, Busy’s had emptied two of the enormous French presses and now we were on the last one.
Lucy and I were used to working in unison, so as she began to pour the chilled coffee over the ice cubes in the tall glasses, I set to work grinding more beans. The process for the perfect iced coffee was easier than people thought, but the time that went into it required a lot of planning ahead, and that was reflected in the price. We were still priced a lot cheaper than the nearest Starbucks, though, and our coffee tasted light-years better.
