by Agatha Ball
"A few blocks east of the ferry dock on Main Street. It looks a little like an old general store. There's also an actual general store a few shops away run by our friend Holly. We're the ones with the bakery and books, though."
"How quaint." She then just stood there and stared at me.
I wasn't sure if we were dismissed or what was going on, but figured to take it upon myself to just get out. "Anyhoogle. Lots of baskets yet to distribute. See you around!"
"See ya!" Johnny barked as he walked out. As the door clicked behind us, he said, "She seemed nice."
I should take a lesson from Johnny. Everyone is his friend.
We headed to a room a few doors down. Since it seemed that the ferry had arrived, I knocked instead of just barging in. I heard shuffling and then the handle turned.
"Oh! My goodness! I thought I heard someone out here!"
The man who opened the door was short and around Granny's age. He had a white mustache and neatly combed white hair. He wore round, brass spectacles and was dressed in a suit jacket and bowtie.
"Hi! Just dropping off a little welcome basket for all the judges on behalf of the founding families," I said, holding out our gift.
"Hi! I'm one of the founding families," said Johnny, sticking out his hand.
A smile broke across the judge's face as he reached out in return. "A pleasure to meet you, young man. My name is Richard. I'm one of the judges."
"Hope you'll find us 'guilty' of good service," said Johnny. He turned to me, "I thought that all up by myself. On account of him being a judge."
"Very clever," said Richard, appreciatively, like he was delighted by the workings of Johnny's brain. That was a mark in the positive column for me.
"Any trouble on the ferry?" I asked, warming to him as I handed him the basket.
"Smooth as glass. Such a lovely island! I haven't been here in years," he admitted. He admired the things we had prepared for him. "Ooo! Raspberry jam and scones! My favorite!"
"You've been here before?" I asked.
He dragged himself away from our present to answer. "It's been ages. Barely even recognized the place."
"OH! We're working to make the island look like it used to!" chirped Johnny. "You should come hang out and tell us what it was like!"
"Why that would be a great pleasure," said Richard. "Invitation accepted."
"Well, on behalf of Nate and Johnny, the entire island is so happy to have you here for the bakeoff. I work over at Bitter Beans. Please feel free to stop by for a great cup of coffee anytime." I then motioned to my friend. "And maybe the three of you can discuss how things have changed."
"Are you entered in the contest?" he asked, looking once again at the basket. "Because if these taste as good as they look, I have a feeling you'd be giving anyone a run for their money."
I liked this guy.
I laughed and said, "No. I'm just here for moral support."
"You introduced your young friend Johnny, but what's your name?"
"Paige. Paige Comber," I told him, sticking out my hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, Paige. I will look forward to settling in with this wonderful gift and taking you up on that cup of coffee." He gave Johnny a wink. "And talking about the good ol' days here on the island."
"Anytime!" I said.
The door softly closed as we walked away. We headed toward the lobby and Johnny seemed impressed. "I like that guy."
"Me, too," I said, glancing over my shoulder. "He seemed very kind."
"OH! Are you talking about Richard?" asked a silvery male voice.
I turned. He was dressed in a white suit and Panama hat. I think when someone told him he was doing a bakeoff on an island, he was expecting something a little more tropical.
"Are you the delightful woman who left that charming basket in my room?" he asked with a reptilian smile.
"Paige, it's like you're a celebrity," said Johnny in awe. "You're like... The Basket Girl of Seaside..."
I turned back to the man. "I am," I replied. "On behalf of the founding—"
The man cut me off. He took my hand in both of his sweaty palms and smiled, his row of flat, white teeth flashing beneath his pencil thin mustache. "It is so lovely to be so welcomed. Judging these bakeoffs is my life, and I can't tell you the anger and rivalry that can be stirred up the moment I set foot in a city."
"Oh, well, we're not really like that here..." I said, slowly withdrawing my hand. I didn't want to offend the man, but also was feeling like I wanted a couple of steps between him and me.
"Did I hear that there is a coffee shop here in town?" he asked, leaning into my personal space.
"Yes, Bitter Beans." I should have invited him down for a free cup like I had everyone else, but I was thinking I was good with making this guy pay.
"Well, my name is Victor and I am sure I will see you there frequently." He picked a bit of lint from his jacket. "Tell me, are you entered in the competition? I love getting further acquainted with our hopefuls."
"Just moral support," I said, trying to politely extricate myself. "Come on, Johnny."
"Oh, is this Johnny? Your boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes flashing with just a glint of danger.
"Best friend," said Johnny, reaching out with both his hands. I guess he saw that was how Victor did the handshake thing and he was happy to play by Victor's rules. "Paige is dating my cousin, Nate, who is also a founder."
"Like a telanovella. Such intrigue!"
"No, we're all friends," I replied.
"That's how it all starts," he said with a knowing wink.
"Sorry, I really gotta get back to Bitter Beans," I said. "My shift is just about to start."
"Well, it has been a pleasure. See you soon!" said Victor, giving me a wave.
I, for one, would have been happy if I never saw his face again. I told myself at least by Monday, that creep would be gone.
Johnny and I walked into the lobby, ready to return the keys, but our way was blocked. A woman with huge red hair was standing right in front of the hallway.
"Excuse me," I said, just as a flash went off.
She turned, giving me an eyeful of her pink, sequined cowgirl suit and a beauty pageant sash that said Miss Seaside. "So sorry, honey! This nice gentleman was just getting a story for your local paper."
A guy I remembered from some of those town hall dances gave me a little wave, and held up his Nikon like I was the biggest jerk for interrupting his photo shoot.
"Sorry! So sorry!" I apologized as we scooched around them and made our way to the front counter.
Henrietta was off somewhere. I rang the little bell on the counter and then cringed as the lady and the reporter looked over to see what I was doing.
"Who is that?" I muttered under my breath.
"Oh, that's Lorraine," said Johnny, reverently.
"Who is Lorraine?"
"Did you read the website?" Johnny asked. He apologized as if he had offended me. "It's hard to read. I barely made it through. I only did because I knew someone would quiz me and I totally lost the last quiz. I'm thinking we need less words and more emojis." He seemed lost in thought as he designed what that would look like in his head, then snapped back to reality. "So, like, Lorraine won a beauty competition or a talent competition or maybe it was both. Anyways, she won something and they gave her a tiara, so she's here to be a spokesperson for the Seaside bakeoff. It was Madison's idea. We couldn't spring for another tiara, but managed to get her a new sash."
As Lorraine gave a fake laugh and smile and flipped the edge of her huge, ratted hair over her shoulder, it struck me that she seemed very much the kind of person Madison would think Seaside needed in order to make this event a success.
Henrietta suddenly came out from the back room and seemed genuinely surprised to see us. She flushed again as her eyes met Johnny's. "Nobody drops off their keys!" she stammered.
"You told us to," I reminded her.
"Still..."
"Well, we respect people's
property," Johnny replied. "We're not key thieves."
"Were you serious about going to Trevor's Saloon tonight?" she asked. "Like for serious for serious? I mean, we can play billiards or darts if we run out of things to talk about or something...?"
"Of course!" said Johnny. "That makes me feel really special that you asked if I was really asking."
"Oh! That’s so great! And Trevor is having a special tonight, too, so it won't even be expensive or anything," said Henrietta.
"What?" I asked.
She pulled out a coupon. "Trevor is offering free drinks to all of the judges after the dinner at the town hall. He said I could have a free drink, too, since the Grand Hotel is hosting the bakeoff. He said that he thinks it will make the contestants and their guests want to come. It should be super fun. Especially with you there, Johnny." She batted her lashes at him and if she was a cartoon character, little hearts would have been floating out of her eyes.
It made my offer for a free cup of coffee to all of the judges seem woefully lacking. I hadn't even thought of gathering them at the coffee shop as an official hangout. "Oh. Well, that was very nice of him."
"Sucks he didn't tell us," observed Johnny. "You could have stuck his coupons in the baskets and saved everyone the trouble."
As Lorraine squealed with delight at something the photographer said, a part of me wondered if Trevor wanted us to know he was reaching out personally to all of the judges and inviting them to his place. Or, more specifically, if Madison was strategically trying to gather her clique of VIPs.
And let us know through the grapevine that we were not on her A-list.
Chapter Five
I ditched Johnny at his dive shack. He gave me a friendly wave as he sauntered over to help some waiting customers. His business hours were pretty relaxed. In fact, he had even written on the "Business Hours" sign "Whenever."
But this group seemed anxious to get the party started. I paused for a minute, watching him cheerily open up the counter and welcome them in.
Technically, he didn't need the shack anymore. He had inherited Georgia's estate and half of Byron Edward's wealth, but he loved what he did. What's the old saying? Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life? As Johnny demonstrated to the tourists how their flippers could also be used as duck lips, I was pretty sure he had it nailed.
I walked down the road toward Bitter Beans. The ferry dock was empty, but the new guy stuck in the ticket booth appeared slightly more welcoming than Georgia had ever been. He was actually answering tourists' questions with a smile.
The seagulls were crying and the waves were crashing. I stepped onto the boardwalk and knocked the sand out of my flip-flops. I passed Wanda's gift shop, its windows filled with seashell covered jewelry boxes and pithy t-shirts with sayings like: "My body may be here, but I'm at the beach" and "I require mouth-to-mouth, lifeguard." I could see Wanda's spiky blue hair behind a shelf of snowglobes.
Marnie's yarn shop was doing a brisk trade. She kept several angora bunnies and brushed them regularly to stock her skeins. She had a healthy online trade, and her fans came out regularly to the island to buy directly from the source. Rumor had it, she was considering getting an alpaca or two. Her long, grey braid fell over her shoulder as she leaned over, showing a young girl and her parents how a drop spindle works, just like she used to do for me when I was a little kid. I could almost feel the strands between my own fingers.
I was going to have to leave Seaside in September. All the schools would be back in session and Granny didn't have enough work for two people. But there was so much about this island that felt like my home. I breathed in the salty air. Maybe I could just... stay.
Suddenly, all nostalgia was torn away.
I couldn't believe my eyes. There, standing in the middle of the intersection, was a great, big, man-sized seal holding an arrow sign.
I walked up, even more disbelieving as I saw who was wearing the costume, his face peeking out of a hole where the mouth should be. "Trevor?"
He turned around, his dark eyes flashing from beneath the seal's overbite to see who was calling his name.
"Hey, Paige!" He waved a grey, furry flipper at me.
We stood for a moment, the awkward silence of his new job saying more than I ever could.
"So... you got a new uniform?" I finally stated.
He shook his head, but the stiffness wouldn't allow him to actually bend his neck. He ended up just shifting the whole costume from side-to-side. "Madison thought that it would be a good way to get some attention for the bar. We spent a lot on renovations and are really trying to capitalize on the visitors coming for the bakeoff."
"Well, you have my 'seal' of approval," I tried to joke.
He looked at me like he couldn't believe I'd stoop so low.
"Hey! Don't get 'crabby' on me!"
He hit me with his sign.
I placed my hand on his furry shoulder. "It is an honest job," I tried to reassure him. "You're doing what it takes to survive."
He didn't look convinced.
"Sooo... Is it working?" I asked.
He sighed. "Madison has a lot of ideas."
Like he summoned her from the pit of glittery horrors where she abided, suddenly she appeared. "Hey, Paige!" she called, coming out of the Saloon doors wearing a pink shirt with the word Peasant written in sequin script across her chest. "Did you come to admire Seaside's new mascot?"
"Seals are our mascot?" I asked, a little confused.
"They are now," she said, patting Trevor's head like a dumb puppy. "And Trevor's Saloon is an official sponsor of the upcoming bakeoff."
"Oh. That's really nice," I said.
"Oh! My! GAAAAAWD!" said a voice.
We all turned.
Madison squealed. I mean, full-on sorority girl squeal.
"KYLIEEEEEE!" she shrieked. She ran full tilt in her four-inch platform sandals and hugged a girl with flat-ironed brown hair and chunky highlights. Both were very careful not to ruin their fingernails during this exchange.
Although she was our age, it was clear she had a nose job and her lips were filled with silicone. Arm in arm, Madison brought Kylie over to us. "Trevor? Paige? This is one of my best friends from school. Her name is Kylie."
"Oh, is this him?" Kylie asked Madison, looking Trevor up and down like he wasn't even standing there.
Madison giggled and I could see Trevor look a little confused about what was going on.
Laughing, Kylie said, "Nice suit."
He waved at her impotently with a floppy flipper.
"So, Kylie is here to be a part of the bakeoff," Madison gushed. "She just got back from Paris. Her daddy sent her to the Cordon Bleu to learn everything about everything."
I felt my entire being drop into my stomach. Kylie had lived my dream. Perfect hair and clothes, I realized she was the sort of student a school like that welcomed. I reached down to knock off an ant that was trying to crawl up my ankle.
"Oh!" I said, trying to be brave. "I want to go there someday, too."
She looked me up and down, taking in my mess of a ponytail and discount clothes. "Wow. Well, it's really hard, but maybe someday. Have you gotten the financial aid sorted out, mon petite? Because, it's like, fifty thousand Euros a year, not to mention you actually have to live in Paris."
Now my stomach had dropped down into the soles of my shoes. "I was going to look into financial aid."
She gave me a faint smile. I couldn't quite tell. It might have just been the botox. "Well, maybe you have a fairy godmother or something."
Madison shrieked with laughter. "Fairy godmother! You are so funny, Kylie." Madison then patted her arm. "Okay, so listen. I need some snaps of us for Instagram and you are, like, the best-looking person in this entire competition. I swear, everyone else is like, one foot in the grave. Can we take some selfies?"
They squealed then headed off toward the Grand Hotel, leaving Trevor and me practically blindsided in their wake. I tugged on the bottom of my s
hirt and, self-consciously, adjusted my sleeves.
"What a gal..." Trevor sighed with admiration.
Chapter Six
A man with a clipboard was standing inside of Bitter Beans.
"Yeah, we should be able to get this installed this week. You've got forced heat, so we can use the same system," he said, reading off his paperwork.
Granny leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her rhinestone t-shirt with the parrots on it. "You hear that, Paige? Air conditioning by the end of the week."
"Shouldn't you be getting ready for the bakeoff?" I asked her. "And is a big project like this really an interruption you need in the middle of all this tourist traffic?"
"I've got a bakeoff every day with this coffee shop." She waved my concerns away. "You tell that Trevor he's not the only place with recycled air in town."
"I will make sure to pass it along," I replied, concerned at how serious Granny was taking this rivalry.
"You can't go softly into the sweet night, Paige," she explained. "You get someone in firing shots across your bow, you pull out your cannon and blast 'em out of the water." She took me by the shoulders and steered me toward the door. "Now, things are all in hand. You've got an early morning opening the store up! You head on out and have some fun. Make sure to tell everyone we're going to be the 'coolest' place in town."
I grabbed my bike from behind the shop and rode up the hill to my little cottage. As the road got rockier, I popped off the seat and walked, pausing for just a moment to stop and smell the fresh, sea air blowing in. It was so quiet and peaceful. Like my own little world.
"HEY! Do you live up here?"
I turned around.
My cottage was in a row of vacation homes most people rented out in the summer. It appeared I had a new neighbor.
He was a squinty-eyed guy about my age with high cheekbones and a flat face. His body was built like someone who spent most of college studying keg stands. He pointed at his cottage. "I can't seem to work the lock."
