Small Town Hearts

by Lillie Vale

  The three of us stood there in silence until I regained control of myself. My soft, shuddering breaths gave way to the chirps of crickets. It wasn’t just my strength that pulled me through; it was knowing that my friends were with me, too.

  “Should I get you something?” asked Chad. “Anything. Just name it. Tea?”

  “Beer,” said Penny. “God, Chad. She doesn’t drink tea. What is she, ninety?”

  “I drink tea,” he said.

  “Since when?!”

  “And it’s good for shock.”

  “Says who?!”

  Neither of them realized they’d fallen back into an old pattern until they both caught sight of me smiling. Penny burst into helpless laughter and sagged against the car.

  “I don’t need anything,” I said. I held a hand out to each of my friends. “Just stay with me?”

  They didn’t hesitate. Their hands found mine, and for a moment, I wasn’t thinking about everything else that had just slipped away.

  twenty

  Every day of summer, Levi Keller had been a clockwork boy—black coffee, baby blues, lopsided smile. But the last couple of days, he hadn’t come to Busy’s at all. If he even left the house, that was news to me. I didn’t see him anywhere. Not his house, not the beach, not in any of the shops along Main Street. It was a little humiliating that he was still the first person I looked for in a crowd, especially since he was probably ignoring me.

  I threw myself into baking. Like a madwoman, I worked every minute I wasn’t at Busy’s. It wasn’t exactly soothing, but it gave me something to do that didn’t involve moping. I knew if I started, I wouldn’t stop. In one summer, three of my relationships had fallen apart. Chad, Penny, and now Levi. So no, I couldn’t slow down and give myself time to feel sad. As long as I kept baking, my mind was consumed with measurements and instructions, things that wouldn’t let me down. When it came to food, at least, I didn’t make mistakes.

  The morning of the sandcastle competition, I woke before dawn. As I headed out of my lighthouse, I paused, arrested by the sight of the sun peeping over the horizon. Molten and rippling on the water, the sun rose like a California poppy unfurling its petals. Blush pink and peach and tangerine watercolors streaked and muddled across the sky. Morning dew squelched under my flip-flops as I pulled a patio chair out to watch the sunrise.

  Unlike the sea of nighttime, inked black and midnight blue, the sea now shone glasslike and cerulean. The morning was illuminated by scattered pockets of silver light reflecting on the surface of the water. The lobster boats heading out of harbor were tipped in gold, like they were wearing crowns.

  The breath paused in my lungs—it was like time had stopped and I was here, witnessing the beginning of everything. I could hear the faraway barks of seals and the mournful, haunting wails of a loon’s cries. Turning my face up to the sun, I basked in the persimmon, pearly light. It now hung fully suspended in the sky, sending the water to liquid gold. The early morning’s lavender and gray had scrolled back to reveal the bejeweled, sequin-silver sky and the egg-yolk sun. It was a day for magic, miracles, and new beginnings.

  As I finally got up, dragging my unwilling feet, the chorus of birds chirping their dawn song followed me into town. A cool breeze brushed my forearms as I biked down the narrow, winding streets to the beach.

  Tom was just opening Busy’s. “Morning!” he called out, turning the key in the lock.

  I slowed down, coming to a stop. The bucket of tools hanging on my handlebars rattled. “Hey, Tom. Thought you were closing this morning for the sandcastle competition.”

  “Just getting my coffee!” he said cheerfully. “Ready for the big showdown?” He grinned. “I’ve seen you and Levi practicing the last couple weeks. My money’s on you to take home the gold.”

  “You’re betting on us?” I asked with a laugh.

  Then I remembered there wasn’t really an us anymore.

  It was just me.

  “Friendly betting,” said Tom. I didn’t buy his innocent face for a minute.

  Once he went inside, I clenched my handlebars and kicked off, heading for Levi’s house. It wasn’t about the competition; I just wanted to talk to him. To work things out. To tell him that whether he was here or there, I still wanted him.

  His car wasn’t parked out front, but I hopped off my bike and made my way to the door anyway. I knocked twice. When he didn’t appear even after I counted to twenty, I tried again, this time with solid, loud knocks. Still nothing.

  I stepped off the porch and called up to the bedroom window, “Levi?”

  I waited to see if the curtain would flutter or if I could see his figure move. I didn’t even make it to twenty before I tried again. “Levi, can we talk? Please?”

  At this point, I just had to face it. He either wasn’t there or he wasn’t answering the door. Of the two, I hoped it was the former. Dejected, I got back on my bike. There wasn’t much point in going to the sandcastle competition, but it beat skulking around his house like a gremlin.

  I was the last participant to make it out to the beach. The parking lot was already packed with locals and tourists alike. Mr. and Mrs. Bishop waved to me from their car, where they were eating breakfast, and a few other regulars called out their support as I jogged across the sand. Penny and Chad were among them, too far away for me to talk to. Stunned, I watched as Chad laid out all his equipment and pointed to each piece in turn, presumably explaining their purpose. They said they weren’t back together, but maybe, just maybe, this was a step in that direction. I scanned the beach for Levi, dejected when I couldn’t find him.

  There was only one other place he could be.

  The lighthouse.

  I grabbed my bike from where I’d left it in front of Busy’s, fingers shaking too much to deal with the lock. Winning the competition didn’t matter anymore. Whether he stayed or left didn’t, either. The destination mattered way less than the journey. And I would never know if there was a future for us unless I was willing to take it. Whether that meant Skype calls and flying back and forth from Rhode Island or staying in Oar’s Rest, I wanted him in whatever way I could get him. Part of me had always known that, but it had taken our time apart for it to cement in my head.

  Tom came out with his coffee as I swung onto my bike. “Where are you going?” he called as I pedaled away. “It’s about to start!”

  I waved at him over my shoulder and kept going. The streets were empty because everyone was gathering at the beach. I traced the route up to the lighthouse with my eyes, hoping to see a flash of his car.

  Nada.

  I biked as fast as I could, panting for breath by the time the lighthouse came into view. What if we’d missed each other? I hovered on the hill for a long moment. From here, I could see that no one was waiting at my home. What could I do now?

  There was no point going back to town—without Levi, I couldn’t take part in the competition. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore. Without him, winning didn’t mean a thing. But if I stayed here, I’d just replay everything and drive myself crazy. So I twisted the handlebars and biked down to cheer for my friends.

  Busy’s was locked up by the time I got back. While I bent down to secure my bike, I heard footsteps approaching. I expected them to keep going, but they stopped.

  “Where have you been?” an exasperated voice asked from behind me.

  I whirled. Hard to do while still crouched. “Levi! I-I’ve been here. I was waiting for you and I didn’t think you’d show up and I went to your house and then went back to—” I stopped talking as he helped me get up. I didn’t want to let go of his hand, so I held on.

  “Later,” he said, that one word soft and silky and oh so safe.

  “But—”

  He cocked his head. “Don’t you want to win this thing?”

  “I do,” I said. “But I want you more. I told you, Levi. There’s nothing else—no one else.”

  “I’m yours.” His blue eyes settled on me. “If you still want me,
that is,” he said, the words sounding too careful, too deliberate to not take at face value. He didn’t mean just for the sandcastle competition, I realized.

  “We’ll have to run,” I said.

  “I’m okay with that. We have the rest of our lives to take it slow.”

  “I meant to the beach.”

  “I didn’t. But it works for that, too.”

  So that was exactly what we did. We skidded into our place just as the judge began counting down ten, nine, eight …

  I ached to talk to Levi about everything that had gone wrong, but now we were at five, four, three … There was no time for me to do anything else but plunge my spade into the sand and start digging.

  It was as if no time had passed. In perfect harmony, Levi and I began to move, arms furiously tamping down wet sand, forming the early shape of the castle we’d been practicing. The lumps of sand slowly began to come together in towers and walls, larger and grander than we’d made them before.

  I drowned out everything else, focusing only on the sand sifting through my fingers and the rasp of the knife as it cut through walls. The sun, low in the sky when we started, rose higher and higher until it hit its noonday peak. We were approaching the end of our four-hour limit, and as the judge gave us a thirty-minute warning, I cast a wild-eyed look at Levi. While I was etching in doors and windows, and studding seashells into turrets, he was painstakingly working on a staircase for each of the four keeps.

  He was being too ambitious. We’d only ever done one staircase before, and that had been during practice. Though we’d kept up a feverish pace since the start of the competition, even I doubted he’d be able to get them done in time. Without asking, I grabbed another knife and got to work. I was faster at it, I reasoned, so with any luck, we’d be able to get done.

  The last half hour passed in a frenzy. It blurred past me, and by the time the judge called time, I’d only just finished crowning each tower with a tiny starfish. Levi stepped away from the castle and dropped his knife, blinking in weary exhaustion at our creation. I shaded my eyes against the sun to look at it. It was a masterpiece, way better than anything we’d done before.

  “Oh my God, yours looks so good,” squealed Lucy.

  A relieved laugh burst out of me. “So does yours,” I said, raking my eyes over the tall tower they’d built. It had been hand-molded to look like coral, twining and twisting to almost five feet. They’d dug a moat around it and filled it with water, lining the perimeter with beautiful shells Lorcan had bought for the hermit crabs.

  “Wow, this is fantastic,” said Chad appreciatively as he ambled over. Penny trailed behind him, looking a little skittish all of a sudden, like maybe she wasn’t sure whether Lorcan and Lucy would want to hang with her after what happened at the pageant.

  “Your castle looks pretty good,” said Lucy. She leveled a solid look at Penny. “Ours is better, though.”

  Penny peeped at her from under her eyelashes. “Yeah. I’d be really surprised if yours or Babe’s didn’t win.”

  While everyone else chatted and waited for the results of the competition, I turned to Levi. “You came.”

  There wasn’t a trace of the betrayal I’d seen at the exhibition. Just the same soft promise I’d seen before. “Hi, Babe,” he said quietly, shuffling toward with me with his hands buried deep in his pockets, bunched up into balls like he was nervous.

  “How are you?” I asked at the same time he opened his mouth.

  A rueful smile tugged at his lips. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket and unfurled his fist, revealing a shiny silver bracelet set with the sea glass he’d picked up that day we’d gone blueberry picking.

  “Is this the sea glass?” I asked, picking it up. “You polished it. It’s beautiful.”

  The cuff bracelet was thin and delicate, spidery in the silver wire filigree work. In the center, several glossy, imperfect pieces of sea glass were lined neatly in a row.

  “Someone at the art center showed me how to do the metalwork,” said Levi. “I was going to give it to you the night of the exhibition. I know my timing sucks, but I made it for you and I think it should be with you. May I?” At my nod, he slipped it over my wrist.

  My skin tingled where his fingertips touched me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, breaking the pregnant pause.

  “Don’t be,” I said. “You came in the end. I didn’t think you would.”

  His eyes flew to mine. “I wasn’t talking about this.” He gestured to the beach, where the judges were still walking around with their clipboards, taking notes on the sandcastles.

  “I’m sorry. Not for keeping Elodie’s name secret, because that was her call, but for you finding out the way you did,” I said. I took a deep breath. “I never meant for you to think I was using you to make her jealous. It was never like that. She’s my past, you’re my—” I had to stop myself. I had no idea if he was my future anymore, let alone my present.

  “I realized when I got home that night that I hadn’t really given you a chance to explain. I wanted to go to you, talk things through, but after those things I’d said…” Levi exhaled. “The way I acted.” He shook his head. “I was sure you were going to tell me to go to hell.”

  “You had every right to be pissed at me. I know how it looked. She—she came to find me, Levi. Those paintings, they were some kind of tribute to me, a way for her to declare what she felt, but—but—the thing is, I’m not in love with her, Levi. I’m in love with you. I’ll still be in love with you, no matter where you go or how hard it is to make it work.”

  He stared at me for so long that I grew self-conscious, tucking hair behind my ear and darting my eyes away from him. “Babe,” he began to say, but then the megaphone boomed, and we both turned.

  The judges were standing in front of our sandcastle. “We have a winner!” the head judge said with a broad grin. “Will the architects of this castle come forward, please?”

  It took a minute for it to sink in.

  “Babe, it’s you!” Lucy shouted, setting off a round of cheers and hoots.

  Levi stepped next to me, hand on my back. He met my eyes, and wordlessly, we both stepped forward at the same time, heading toward our creation. The judges pinned blue first-place ribbons on us. Lorcan and Lucy were awarded red ribbons for second place, and another team won third.

  “I suck!” Penny shouted dramatically over the commotion. “Chad was robbed!” Even Lucy cracked a smile.

  John and Cary kicked their sandcastle back into the beach, which wasn’t hard, considering it was falling apart anyway.

  Camera flashes went off, the crowd surged forward. Everyone was in my face, buzzing in my ear, asking me how it felt to break Lorcan and Lucy’s winning streak.

  “Everything okay?” Levi whispered in my ear, though it was really more of a shout to make himself heard over all the festivity.

  “It will be!” I shouted back.

  * * *

  Over the next week, the coffee shop was jam-packed with people eager to congratulate me and Levi. Lucy and Lorcan, the former reigning champs, swore that next year they’d steal first back from us. It titillated the crowd to think we had a friendly rivalry going on, and someone shouted, “Drinks on me!” which got all the tourists excited until they realized we didn’t serve alcohol.

  As a result of all my baking, Busy’s smelled like sugary pecans. The aromatic, spicy scent of cinnamon and nuts brought back fond memories of winters I’d spent with Penny and Chad, all of us tucked away in her parents’ kitchen, eating fruitcake and spilling sugar on the floor, then arguing about who would wipe it up. It was usually Chad, since it was Penny’s house and her parents’ stolen mulled wine, and in solidarity, she’d point out that it couldn’t be me since I’d made the fruitcake.

  Still reliving old memories before closing time, I arranged some spice cake and hot black tea for Ralph to carry out, while Lucy made a gift arrangement of mango-macadamia cake and oatmeal-waln
ut cookies to deliver tomorrow.

  The last of our customers skedaddled out the door into the navy-blue, ink-splotched sky. The days were getting darker earlier, and the air cooler, to match. From here, I could see autumn poking its head around the corner. The dog days of summer were behind us, replaced by shivery night chill and a vibrant carnival of colors. Pastel-colored houses, shrouded in leafy canopies of green and gold and merlot, glowed with a marzipan ethereality. Lampposts and restaurant windows slanted just enough shadows and illumination to look eerie, the boat on the beach the unsuspecting backdrop for accidental shadow puppetry.

  Tonight was the Burning Boat Festival. Summer already seemed like a faded memory.

  “Hurry! It’s about to start,” said Lucy.

  “I heard you the first time,” I said with a laugh.

  Within ten minutes, we’d locked up and run to the beach, our feet kicking up sand, our laughs caught and swallowed by the wind.

  Down on the beach, a crowd had already gathered, stacking logs inside the boat so the fire would burn long and hard through the night, burning down to crackling embers by morning. This was Tom’s year to light the fire; he crouched down and started the blaze. White smoke would soon curl upward, swelling the air with the sweet spice of autumn, making everyone yearn for sweet apples, just off the branch, and pecan pies, warm out of the oven.

  Our friends were already there, part of the circle that surrounded the bonfire. Penny stood next to Chad, her hair disheveled from the wind. With the light casting shadows on her face, her cheekbones and jawline looked sharp enough to cut a man. She wore a shapeless black dress that billowed around her thin frame. Penny fiddled with the sleeve of the cardigan tied around her waist before catching my eye. Her smile was a thousand things all at once: I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

  The air burned with the smell of autumn, the spicy tang of cinnamon and cloves swirling around us like my favorite Yankee Candle. Flames leapt feverishly like flamenco skirts, whipping and snapping around us in dizzying billows. Levi and I both watched, enraptured, as flames lapped over the wooden boat, devouring planks and nails. Within moments, they had spread to the bow, tendrils twirling in a fiery, dancing blaze.