by Jenny Hale
“Got it?”
“Yes,” she lied, still deciding which one to choose.
Jake flipped the penny off his fingers and she watched it sail down through the air, the sun shimmering off its copper surface. It got smaller and smaller as she tried to keep focus on it, until it disappeared in the marsh grass below.
“It’s a long way down,” he said, and she nodded. “Don’t fall,” he said, his words urgent, as he grabbed her by the shoulders, teasing her. She squealed and then laughed.
“Not funny.” She cut her eyes at him playfully, but before she could straighten her face out, his lips were on hers again, his hand at the back of her neck. Well, it seemed as if one wish was coming through.
Slowly pulling apart, they both looked back out at the sea.
“I used to come up here as a kid. We would drop pennies and make wishes with all our girlfriends,” he said, teasing her. “I’ll be honest. I haven’t been up here since then. It’s kind of fun being back up here.”
Faith wondered what that boy was like—the boy who read Hemingway and caught lightning bugs only to let them go. Would she have liked him? More importantly, would he have liked her? It seemed as if she’d have had lots of competition for his affection.
“So you do this with all the girls, then?” Although she’d said it playfully, there was a part of her that wanted to know.
“No. Only the ones I really like.”
She laughed.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked, standing back up and reaching out his hand. She took it and he helped her stand. She didn’t want to leave.
“Yes.” Faith imagined what it would be like to sit in a rocking chair day after day with the person she loved, listening to the wind and watching the ocean like she was right then. What a surprising thought to have while standing with someone she barely knew, but being with him calmed her, and, after kissing him, she wasn’t concerned anymore with trying to be witty and alluring. She could just stand here and be herself. He made her feel perfectly comfortable.
Out of all the locations Jake could’ve taken her, he’d chosen the simplest, most natural, lovely place. How did he know that it was exactly the type of thing she loved? There were lots of other places in the Outer Banks—mini golf, go karts, shopping—but he’d chosen Bodie Island Lighthouse. It showcased what the Outer Banks was really about: simplicity. The coastline itself was so amazing that she could sit all day and watch the tide rolling in and out like it had done for generations.
“How could you ever want to sit inside when you could look at a view like this?” he asked.
She smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I don’t want to take you home yet,” he said. “Are you hungry? Wanna get something to eat?”
“I am hungry,” she said, the thrill of his admission that he wanted more time with her lifting in her stomach. She absolutely wanted to do something else with Jake, but she wished she could stay and take in the view a little longer. It was nice being with him. Being up here, completely removed from everything and everyone else, it felt like it was just the two of them.
“Great. I figured you might be. I’ve already made reservations.”
“Oh?” The idea that he’d taken time to work out where to take her, he’d called and made arrangements—it seemed very sweet since they were only out on a casual first date. But that was what she liked about him, how unfussy he seemed. Especially knowing now that he had a lot of money, he didn’t flaunt it; it didn’t define him. She really loved that he painted and built things, spent time with the other locals. Faith wondered about this place he’d planned to take her. It must be very popular to need reservations. Although, most beachside restaurants were quite busy. Perhaps he didn’t want to have to wait for a table, although, in her experience, the wait was never longer than forty-five minutes, and they could get a drink at the bar.
“Yep. Somewhere I think you’ll really like. But we’ve still got some time to kill and I have somewhere else I’d like to show you.”
She was intrigued and couldn’t wait to see where he’d take her.
NINE
The display windows covered nearly the whole front of the small building. It was shingled, like the cottage, but low to the ground since it was far enough inland to be safe from the floods. Jake held the door open for Faith as she entered, and what she saw was like heaven. Every space was covered in secondhand books, some of them even turned sideways above other books to allow them space on the shelf. There were so many books; she had difficulty knowing where to look first.
Faith wandered along the narrow aisles created by bookshelves, the smell of old wood and used books thrilling her senses. It was a place she’d never been before, but judging by the look of the building, it had probably been there when she’d vacationed at Nan’s cottage as a kid. How she would’ve loved to peruse these shelves back then.
“There’s a section at the back that has well-known authors,” Jake said over her shoulder into her ear, sending goose bumps down her arm. “I used to buy my copies of Hemingway here. They were only fifty cents and I could use my grass-cutting money to buy them.”
She loved the idea of Jake saving up his pocket money to come here and buy books. It sounded like something she would do.
They stopped at the back of the shop and Faith let her eyes roam the shelves. She knew exactly what she was looking for. As she searched, Jake pulled out a few different books, thumbed through them and put them back on the shelf.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” he said.
“It’s amazing! I love it.” She really did. It brought back the desire to read for herself again.
“We don’t have enough really good book stores in the Outer Banks.”
She nodded in agreement and then, when she looked back at the shelves, she saw it: the Robert Frost section. There were only three books, and one of them she knew like the back of her hand. She turned her head to read the spine—it was newer than her copy. She’d had to tape the cover back on several times, but it had kept falling off. Finally, she’d just left it. It was still at home on her bookshelf. Faith reached over and pulled it off the shelf, opening it to her favorite spot and reading those familiar words. It filled her with the same joy that it used to as a child.
“May I help you?” she heard from behind her and they both turned around.
“How much is this?” She held up the book.
“A dollar.”
“I’ll take it,” she said brightly. Turning to Jake, she added, “I’ll bet you can’t get Frost for a dollar at that new fancy book store I saw on the bypass. This place is much better than those big stores.” Instead of looking amused, however, Jake looked thoughtful, and she wondered what he could be thinking about.
“Where are you taking me for dinner?” Faith asked, not looking back at him but focusing on the steps as she made her way out of the bookstore.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Why?” she giggled. “I probably haven’t been there anyway.” She’d never been anywhere at the beach where she’d had to make reservations.
“You definitely haven’t been there.”
“Is it new?”
“Yes.”
“So then you can at least tell me the name.”
Jake was quiet long enough that she turned around. He was hiding a smile, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement. Faith allowed the confusion to show on her face.
“It’s called Tides Bistro and Wine Bar, but I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Is it on the water?”
“Yes.”
“You just told me something else.” She smiled. It was so easy between them that it brought out her playful side.
She noticed how fondly he was looking at her, the lightness of the fine lines at the edges of his eyes—where he’d probably spent years smiling in the sun—the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, as he focused on her.
“I hope you like it.”
“Well, tell me about it then so you don’t have to worry!” she teased him.
He laughed, sending her stomach into a somersault. She enjoyed seeing him laugh. It was infectious. She could feel the smile emerging on her own face in response.
She was glad for his dinner suggestion. She wasn’t ready to go back to her cottage yet.
Wherever Jake’s restaurant was, it was a slight drive, he’d said, from the bookstore. They’d been driving for a while, paralleling the beach the whole way. As he drove, they’d been chatting about all sorts of things, and the more they talked, the more she couldn’t believe how relaxed she was around him. She was so excited to see where they’d be having dinner. She’d never heard of the restaurant before, and she was quite curious.
Part of the charm of the Outer Banks for her was frequenting the same spots whenever they came. There was a restaurant called Goombays, a small building with a rainbow awning out front that she’d loved as a kid. Inside, the entire ceiling was decorated like the surface of the sea, making her feel like she was eating on the ocean floor. She had fond memories there—good food and funny drinks with plastic sharks floating in them. Would she make new memories at this restaurant Jake had chosen?
They entered Corolla, North Carolina and not long after, he pulled the car onto a little road with short, knobby pine trees on either side. It was so narrow that they’d have to pull over if another car came toward them. They bumped along the stretch of the road. Then, sitting right on the beach, the restaurant, Tides Bistro and Wine Bar, came in to view. It was a gigantic structure, all sharp lines and modern, minimalistic, miles away from the experiences she’d had as a kid. The parking lot swallowed what seemed like acres of land and stretched so far away from the building that the restaurant felt the need to have a valet. Why would anyone need a valet? We’re at the beach, for goodness’ sake. Wouldn’t they want to walk in this gorgeous air?
She took in the massive building and the super-size parking lot. It was a very odd feeling to have, but she felt uncomfortable. The sight of it was ridiculous given the culture there. It stuck out like a sore thumb. She understood that whomever had designed it was trying to make a glamorous modern structure that took advantage of the amazing views and offered something sophisticated, but this area wasn’t about high-end views; it was about tradition and a simple way of life. Restaurants with character, like Dune Burger, that offered laid-back atmospheres, mixed drinks, and casual dinners were what she was used to. They were full of warmth and happy memories from years of visitors and locals.
Faith was delighted when Jake pulled past the valet and parked the car himself. She didn’t want to have anything to do with that sort of pretentiousness. He turned off the engine, and walked around to let her out. As he held the car door open for her, he looked proud and happy. What in the world would have drawn Jake to a place like this? she wondered. Maybe he just really likes the food.
He reached out his hand to help her out of the car. As they walked together toward the restaurant, she couldn’t help but think again about how this structure was almost imposing on the landscape around it. It was beautiful, certainly, but the Outer Banks was the kind of place where life was stripped down to its most basic elements: sun, sea, sand—and everything else was built with those elements in mind. This building was angular, with glass everywhere she looked—she wondered how in the world it would ever survive a hurricane. Of all the places they could’ve gone, why did Jake come here? It seemed so juxtaposed to his personality that it had taken her by surprise.
Jake tugged on the enormous brass door pull, the door—more glass—sliding open. They walked in to be greeted immediately by a member of staff who was wearing all black, a stark white, pressed apron neatly arranged at his waist. He called Jake by name, addressing him as “Mr. Buchanan.” The whole place was dark, stacks of wine sprawling their way to the walls of glass overlooking the ocean. More bright white linens were draped on the tables, candles in varying shapes flickering in the centers of each table. Faith tried to smooth out her cotton shorts, and she ran her fingers through her windblown hair, thinking how this kind of place was more Casey’s type of restaurant than hers.
The waiter pulled out her chair, and she nervously took a seat. Before she could get comfortable, the man had thrust a menu the size of the table into her hands. She looked over at Jake, and he smiled at her before scanning his own menu.
She followed his lead and began looking at the options for dinner. Her hunger pains quickly turned into apprehension as she read what was in front of her. All the dishes had names she didn’t recognize, their descriptions so fancy that she could hardly make out what was in them, and each dish was more money than she’d ever paid for a plate of food before. What were they doing at a place like this? She knew Jake had money, and it was nice that he wanted to spoil her, but it seemed awfully extreme for a first date. Trying to ignore the outrageous prices, she took a deep breath and began again at the top of the menu, reading each and every description but by the time she got to the bottom, she had no idea what to order.
This place had stunned her so much that she couldn’t stop her mind from circling back to her earlier thought: Was this the kind of lifestyle Jake was really used to living?
“What do you think of this place?” he asked from behind his menu, his delight clearly coming through in his voice.
She looked around, scrambling for something to say, anything positive she could find about the place, but she was coming up empty.
“I wanted to bring you here, because this is mine.”
She was completely taken aback. “Sorry?”
“I built this.”
Suddenly, she wasn’t very hungry. She’d imagined whoever built this to be someone completely out of touch with everything the area stood for, some sort of corporate clone, his mind only on profits and the upper class. The very last person she imagined to be behind this was Jake. Jake, who’d so lovingly worked on the cottage, who’d taken her to the lighthouse to see the views—he knew better.
He’d grown up there! He knew the culture! He knew that the very last thing people wanted when they came to the Outer Banks was something that would remove them from the customs of the area. She’d seen first hand the growth there, and she’d heard rumblings in news articles and on television about how the locals were resisting this growth. They didn’t like it, and neither did she.
“There’s nothing like it here. I loved the idea of offering more options. There’s so much land here to be developed.”
“But do you think that’s what people want? When they come to the Outer Banks, do you think they want options or the comfort of those local places that they love?” She couldn’t help herself. She was so disappointed.
“There are probably people who still love the quirks of those out-of-the-way places, the little historical treasures. But there are also those who like something new. I definitely believe we have a market for this sort of place here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have built it. I believe people want more options.”
Faith looked down at her menu. More options? People who come here, don’t want more options; they want the local seafood, they want a table full of friends and a band in the corner after the dinner hour. They want a casual, beachy atmosphere with pitchers of strawberry daiquiris and finger foods on brightly colored plates, not this. How could he think this was okay?
“Are you planning on developing more like this one?” she asked, trying to keep the animosity out of her voice.
“I’m always planning,” he said, smiling.
Did he really not see what was wrong with this? His comment at Bodie Island about seeing so much hope and potential hit her—did he mean for development? Why did he want to destroy what she’d grown up to love?
The waiter brought a glass, unlabeled bottle of water and two goblets. He filled them half full and then set a basket of something on the table—crackers? She looked at the flat crisps with some sort of seeds protruding from the surface. Before she could
reach for one, he set another small ramekin in front of her. It had a pink paste of some sort. Beside it, he placed a bright, silver butter knife and then left them alone again. With each passing minute she spent here, she felt uneasier, and she wondered if she knew Jake at all.
“Know what you’re going to get?” Jake asked, seemingly oblivious.
She folded her menu and set it down on the corner of the table and shook her head, trying to keep her disappointment in check. Her whole picture of Jake was changing, crashing down around her, and she didn’t quite know the best way to handle the situation. What she loved about the Outer Banks was that it had remained true to itself, it hadn’t fallen victim to the over-the-top development that had happened in other places. It was a slice of paradise to her.
Her manners told her to just order something and eat it. Then she could leave here and go about her business and finish her vacation without seeing Jake again. But there was a part of her that loved being with the Jake she’d met at the cottage. She wanted more of him. Not this.
“There are a lot of choices.” She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know what any of them were. She tried to look past the overdressed people to the glass wall. On the other side of it was the sea, and the sea gave her calm.
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter said, appearing out of nowhere.
Faith could feel her shallow breathing and the speed of her heart in her chest. She didn’t want to be rude to Jake, but she didn’t have a clue what to do. “May I have a few more minutes?” she asked. The waiter nodded and disappeared as quickly as he’d come. She looked back at Jake.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She didn’t want to seem ungrateful or rude. She liked him so much but this restaurant had brought her to a new reality that she didn’t want to admit to herself. She didn’t like any of this. It was too fussy, too expensive, too unlike her in every way. It didn’t even fit with the town. Had it not been for the cars outside, she would swear it would never survive, and she still had her doubts.
