Always You: A Lilac Bay Novel (Friends with Benefits)

by Rachel Schurig

  You would think, after all these years, that her words wouldn’t hurt me anymore. That I would be able to ignore them, to roll my eyes and blame the booze. That I would be able to get angry, instead of hurt. You would think that, but you would be wrong.

  “You look pretty upset for someone who was the total star of the town meeting.”

  I looked up into Andrew’s familiar blue eyes and felt the strongest urge to throw myself into his arms. To repeat to him every nasty word my mother had just hurled into my voicemail and beg him to tell me that none of it was true. Instead, I smiled as brightly as I could manage.

  “Just thinking about all the work there is to do.”

  His expression told me that he wasn’t buying my excuse. His eyes flicked down to the phone still clenched in my hand and he frowned. I followed his gaze to see that my knuckles were white with the force of my clenching fist.

  “Who called?”

  I sighed. The chances of me being able to fool him were pretty slim. He could always read me too well. “My mother.”

  He nodded, not pressing for an explanation. Andrew knew better than anyone else that my mother calling me was reason enough for me to be upset. And because he didn’t press, I told him.

  “I was supposed to go over there after work. It completely slipped my mind after all of this happened.” I shook my head, thinking of my crappy morning, and how much I had dreaded going to see her. It felt like weeks ago, not mere hours.

  “I take it she wasn’t in the best mood about it,” he said.

  She sounded drunk, I wanted to tell him. She said awful things. Blamed me for everything.

  Instead I shrugged. “I should probably go over there tomorrow.” It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, especially after the excitement of the night. I was meeting with the committee at noon and the idea of leaving that to go to my mom’s made me feel sick.

  But if she was drinking again, that meant I needed to get over there, needed to make sure she had food, make sure the house was clean and she hadn’t done something stupid like leave the water running or the stove on. Because if I didn’t, she would just call Rebecca. And that was the last thing my sister needed.

  “I’ll come with you,” Andrew said. “I’ll pick you up from the diner after your meeting.”

  If it was anyone else, I would have refused. I wouldn’t have wanted them to see my mother in her current state, wouldn’t have wanted them to hear what she had to say about me. Wouldn’t have wanted them to see the way that it affected me. But Andrew wasn’t anyone else.

  “Thanks,” I told him, allowing myself a moment to close my eyes, to gather my thoughts, to try to rearrange my expression into something that I didn’t mind if other people saw. He waited for me, not saying a word, and when I opened them a moment later he was still there, waiting for me.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded and followed him back over to the others.

  Chapter 7

  Two hours after the first meeting of the welcome committee began, the seven of us still sat in the diner, staring at the piles of paper scattered across the table.

  “Maybe we could move the flower festival up?” Donovan suggested.

  “We can’t do that,” Libby said, sounding horrified.

  “Why?”

  “Because we need flowers for the flower festival,” Rose Powell explained, her voice patient.

  “We can’t have flowers in May?”

  Rose closed her eyes and I had a feeling her patience was close to running out.

  “We won’t have enough that early in the year,” I explained to him. “The flower festival is scheduled based on when we’re likely to have the largest quantities of blooms on the island.”

  He scratched his nose. “And we can’t just ship some in from down state?”

  Rose’s eyes popped open, her face livid. I reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, hoping to calm her. “The flower festival is important to a lot of people on this island, Donovan,” I explained as calmly as I could. Both Libby and Rose looked like they wanted to strangle him. “Because it features our flowers. Bringing in flowers from downstate would defeat the purpose.”

  “Next thing you know he’ll be suggesting we just use fake flowers for the Lilac Festival,” Libby muttered.

  “So we’re back to the drawing board,” David said, shooting Donovan a commiserating glance. David, of course, would never be so stupid as to suggest using non-island flowers for the festival in front of Rose Powell, of all people. But he, like the rest of us, was clearly nearing the end of his attention span. After flying through the producers' questionnaires and easily assigning the first few tasks, we’d hit a speed bump half an hour ago, and had yet to come to any kind of consensus. At least Donovan was trying—even if it was one of the dumber ideas I’d heard.

  “Okay, guys,” Libby said, rubbing her eyes. “This can’t be that difficult. We need to come up with an event. We hold events all year long! It’s what we do here.”

  Libby had a point. Lilac Bay was notorious for our island celebrations. From the Fish Fry to the Flower Festival to the talent show to the kayak races—my mother had always called it ridiculous, a waste of money, and I couldn’t help but agree with her to an extent. I mean, the events were nice and all, but did there really have to be so many of them? From May to January it seemed like there was some kind of event scheduled every single weekend. And maybe that was the problem. With so many events already on the schedule, coming up with a brand new one for the producers to come out and tape seemed impossible.

  “Maybe Donovan had the right idea,” Jenny said quietly, her thoughtful gaze on the window.

  “We are not bringing in flowers from downstate,” Rose snapped, but Jenny shook her head, bringing her attention back to the table.

  “Not the flower festival,” she said. “But maybe we should reschedule something, instead of coming up with a brand new event for them to film.” She reached for my calendar. “They said it would be sometime this week in May, right?” she asked, pointing. “Before Memorial Day?”

  “That’s right.” I rubbed my forehead. I had slept badly the night before, dreaming about my mother, and the length and frustration of this meeting wasn’t helping. Plus there was the fact that I was supposed to be heading over there as soon as we were done here.

  “Well, why don’t we move the Fish Fry back?” she said, pointing at the little square for next Friday’s event. “It’s only two weeks, and it doesn’t effect any of the other events on the schedule.”

  “Move the Fish Fry back?” Libby asked, as if the very thought was impossible.

  “Yes,” Jenny said. “It makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

  “But—but—” The mayor shook his head. “Jenny, we always hold the Fish Fry the first Friday in May.”

  “Always,” Rose agreed. “For decades.”

  Jenny shrugged. “Well, maybe it’s time for a change.”

  The others looked slightly horrified, but I grinned at her. This was exactly what we needed—someone on the committee who wasn’t so terrified of shaking things up a little.

  “I think that might be perfect, Jenny,” I said.

  “But—” the mayor shook his head. “It’s already all planned. You’ve been working on the Fish Fry for weeks.”

  Weeks longer than anyone ever needed to put into a stupid picnic, I thought to myself.

  “Everyone is planning for this, Riley,” he continued. “The whole town is involved.”

  “And that’s why it’s the perfect event to change,” I said. “We don’t rely on any outside vendors for the Fish Fry. We do the whole things ourselves, right? It’s all island volunteers. That makes it easy to move. We won’t be out any deposits.”

  “That’s a good point,” David said, his eyes narrowed. Even he seemed hesitant at the idea of changing any detail of the event. “But it will be strange, don’t you think? To have the Fish Fry so late?”

  “Maybe it won’t be cold enough t
o freeze the Girl Scout's lemonade,” Jenny muttered, and I shot her another grin. On an island this far north, the first weekend in May was certainly not safe from unpredictable weather. A few years ago the lemonade had, in fact, frozen. It had also snowed two feet the night before. We’d had a bitch of a time gathering enough dry wood for the bonfire.

  “I just don’t know,” the mayor said, looking way more concerned than anyone should be about a fish fry. “What will we tell people?”

  I met Jenny’s eye across the table and I could tell that she knew exactly what I was thinking. That I was so tired of this attitude I could scream out loud. Instead, I sat up straight in my chair.

  “We’ll tell people that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” I said firmly. “We have the chance to be on TV. For Lilac Bay to be put on the map. To become well known nationally, not just in Michigan and the Midwest. This is a huge deal. The exposure alone could bring tens of thousands of dollars to the island, even without any of the prize money.” I let my gaze slide from one face to the other, hoping they could see how serious this was. “Changing the date of the Fish Fry, for one year, should not be a big deal when we consider what is at stake here.”

  “You’re right, Riley, of course,” Rose said, nodding. “We’re all just being silly and sentimental.”

  “Sentimental is good,” I told her. “That’s what we’re all about on this island and the producers need to see that we care about our traditions.” I smiled. “But we also need to be flexible if we want to have the chance to show the whole country just how special those traditions are.”

  Even the mayor was nodding when I finished, and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I had won them over. Now all we needed to do was spread the word about the change of plans. And then redouble our efforts to make this year’s Fry the best we’d ever had.

  “Okay,” I said ten minutes later, once we’d crossed off the last item on our checklist—finding a decent lawyer to go over the forms. The city’s lawyer, Jeremy Hale, was eighty-two and specialized in farm law. Probably not up to the task of dealing with something like this.

  “That should do it for today,” I continued. “Let’s start spreading the word about the date change and let people know we’re going to need a lot of volunteers to make this a huge success. We should meet again early this week.”

  “You talk to the producers Monday?” David asked.

  I nodded. “And we’ll schedule their visit then, so try to keep your schedules flexible for the next two weeks. I’m not sure if they’ll need the entire committee to be there to meet them, but we should be prepared.”

  The mayor straightened his purple tie—a nice compliment to the bright turquoise sweater vest he wore over his Brooks Brothers shirt. Never let it be said that our mayor dressed down on the weekends. “I’ll let Millie know to keep my schedule open,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll be expecting the mayor to be there to greet them. And,” he smiled modestly around the table, “I do have the most on camera experience.”

  I could sense five other faces struggling not to roll their eyes.

  “Okay, so I’ll let you all know when the next meeting is. Thanks a lot for doing this, you guys.”

  As everyone gathered up their things and said goodbye, I pulled out my phone.

  There was a text there from Andrew. Hope the meeting is going well. I’m over at the cafe, so just text when you’re done. I breathed a sigh of relief that he had remembered his offer. The thought of going to that house by myself was depressing as hell.

  I’m finished, I texted back. I’ll head down to the Cafe.

  The Powell’s cafe was at the corner of Main and Lilac, just a few doors down from the diner. I found Rose on the sidewalk, heading that way. “Are you going to the Cafe?” I asked Rose. “I’ll walk with you.”

  “That’s nice, dear.” We headed outside and both shuddered simultaneously. A cold snap had come in overnight, leaving us with gray skies and temps in the low forties. “You know,” she said, leaning into me a little for warmth, “I’ve heard tell of places where it’s actually spring this time of year.”

  I laughed. “Must be nice.”

  “It’s probably a good idea to move the date of the Fish Fry,” she said. “Maybe we’ll want to keep it later in the year.”

  “Maybe.” But she knew as well as I did that this change would be an anomaly. Next year the Fry would go right back to the first weekend of May, where it belonged, regardless of weather.

  We found Andrew lounging at one of the tables in the cafe, his laptop in front of him, his feet up on a nearby chair. He had a mostly-eaten sandwich, a full cup of coffee, and a plate of cookies on his table.

  “I trust that you paid for all of that,” Rose said sternly.

  He shot her a grin. “Where’s your family loyalty, Mimi? Of course I paid for it, what do you think I am?”

  “I was supposed to charge you?” the waitress said, coming up behind him with a perplexed look on her face. The woman—Mary? Maggie?— was in her early twenties, and I didn’t know her well. But from the way she was looking at Andrew, I had the feeling she was hoping to know him much better.

  “Of course you were supposed to charge me, Maddie,” he said easily.

  “But you said you were a part owner and usually just grabbed whatever you needed from the cookie case.”

  I rolled my eyes at Andrew as he shot his grandmother an apologetic grin, somehow looking even cockier than he had before.

  “I don’t think I put it quite like that,” he said.

  “It’s fine, dear,” Rose said to Maddie, who now looked as if she feared her lack of backbone with the cute Powell boy might cost her a job. “He’ll just have to owe me one.” She turned back to her youngest grandson as Maddie hurried back behind the counter. “Which you can pay by coming over tonight and fixing that bannister. It’s getting loose again.” She pushed at his feet. “Sit up properly, Andrew, this isn’t your living room.”

  He did as she said, moving to pack up his computer. “Can I fix it tomorrow? Riley and I have plans to visit her mother this afternoon.”

  I really wished he hadn’t told her. Of course, Rose Powell knew exactly what the score was where my mother was concerned. I’d hidden out at her house more times than I could count. Plus, it wasn’t like it was a secret in this town. We were two small for anyone to be able to behave so badly with anonymity.

  “Why don’t you both come over for dinner,” Rose said kindly, and I could feel her gaze on my face, though I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the floor. “I’m defrosting a nice roast. That ought to warm us all up.” She reached over and touched my hand gently. I managed to fix a smile on my face before I looked up at her.

  “That would be nice, Rose, thank you.”

  “That’s settled then.” She pointed at Andrew, her expression firm. “Don’t forget your tools.” Before he even had a chance to respond, she bent down and kissed his cheek and he grinned at me from over the top of her head. So spoiled, I mouthed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  She stood and hugged me, too, her embrace holding for just a moment longer than necessary for a goodbye.

  “You ready?” Andrew said once she’d gone to the back. He stood and slung his computer case over his shoulder and I was pleased to see him pull out a few bills and place them next to his dirty dishes. He might be spoiled by his family, but at least he wasn’t going to leave Maddie without a tip.

  “See you around, sweetheart,” he called to her as we left, and I saw her giggle before stepping out into the cold. Probably wishing for something a bit more personal than a few bucks, I thought to myself.

  “God, it’s colder than it was on the way over,” he muttered, pulling his zipper tight and huddling down into his coat.

  “The wind probably changed,” I told him. “It’s coming in off the water now.” I glanced down the street towards the bay. It was steely gray, the waves large and dangerous looking. I loved the bay when it looked like this—like a living, breath
ing thing.

  “Should we take the boat?” Andrew asked. I looked over to see him watching my face and I had a feeling he knew exactly what I had been thinking.

  “It will be a lot colder on the water,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged. “We’re islanders. When have we ever been afraid of a little cold? Besides, we’ll get there a lot faster.”

  That was definitely true. My mother lived about as far away from Town Square as was possible. It was a good thirty-minute walk to her place, way out past the farms on a rocky side of the island. Traveling by boat would cut the trip down to ten minutes.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Andrew’s boat was parked in its normal spot in the marina. We both got to work undoing the lines, moving in silence. I had done this enough times to not need any instructions, and Andrew seemed to know that I wasn’t in a chatty mood. Once we were ready, he started the engine, pulling smoothly out into the harbor. I took my seat next to him, huddling down into my coat. It really was freezing out here.

  “How’d the meeting go?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “Long, but it turned out okay. We argued for forty-five minutes about what event to have them tape for the first feature.”

  “What’d you decide on?”

  “We decided to move back the Fish Fry.”

  He turned to face me. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. It was Jenny’s idea.”

  He shook his head, turning back toward the water. “I can’t believe they went for it. Has the Fry ever been on a different night?”

  “Not according to your grandmother. But it was either that or move up the flower festival, so—”

  He barked out a laugh. “Oh, God, did she murder whoever came up with that idea?”

  “She came pretty close.”

  “You’re going to have your work cut out for you on that committee. You know that, right?”