by Sarah Bates
“Still, I’m sorry,” I said again.
He nodded, accepting my apology with a light kiss to my temple and a gentle squeeze as he moved us up to the order window. “You first.” He nodded to the large menu posted on the side of the truck.
He hadn’t been kidding when he said they had a variety of fries. Half the menu, it seemed, was dedicated strictly to them.
In the end I fell back on a time-tested staple and ordered a cheeseburger with a side of what Sal (the owner and head cook, who was manning the grill) called classic fries, and a Diet Coke. Then, as Hayden ordered his Cuban, with both onion rings and fries for him, and a regular Coke, I reached into my purse for my wallet.
“Uh, ah,” he said when he saw it, and he tugged his wallet free. “I don’t ask a girl out to lunch – or dessert – and expect her to pay,” he added, handing cash to the guy who had taken our order.
“But,”
“I know some would probably consider it sexist, but I prefer to think of it as old-fashioned,” he added before I could finish.
“It isn’t sexist,” I told him, returning my wallet to my purse. “It’s sweet.” I smiled and pushed up on my toes to kiss him again – I could really get used to doing that – and blushed when the guy at the register (his nametag said Sal Jr.) whistled and grinned at us.
Hayden grinned, and simply added his change to the tip jar, then reached up and accepted the two large to-go cups.
While we waited for our food, we chose a table under a bright red and white striped umbrella. “So, how has work been?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink.
“Slow and steady, which is refreshing.” He poked his straw through the lid on his cup and took a deep drink. “There’s nothing more stressful then having a line of cars waiting to be serviced and a waiting room full of people getting increasingly more frustrated and annoyed because those who showed up before them are getting serviced first.”
“I bet.” I waved to my two uncles when I saw them come out of the police station across the street, then lifted my drink for another sip. “So, what made you want to learn how to work on cars?” I asked. While we had been spending our lunch periods together this week, most of our conversations had been about school, or more generalized topics, and while yes, it felt perfectly natural to be around him and with him, there was still so much we didn’t know about each other.
“Levi’s dad taught us the basics when we were younger, right before Levi got his learner’s permit. He wanted us to be able to take care of minor breakdowns before we headed out on our own.”
“And to be able to help damsels in distress?” I asked, and he grinned when I did.
“Well, that never came up as a possible scenario, but you know, it’s kind of a perk.” His grin widened when I chuckled, and he stood up when Sal Jr. called out to us that our food was ready. “Be right back.”
I watched him as he crossed back over to the truck to retrieve our food, and had to take a couple of slow, deep breaths to steady myself. There was just something about him that made me feel…giddy was the only word that came to mind. He made me feel giddy.
I had to admit, I kind of liked the sensation.
“Here you go,” he said when he came back to our table, and he placed my lunch basket in front of me, then settled into his chair beside me again.
“Thank you.” My heart skipped a couple of beats when he took one of my hands and lifted it to his lips for a quick, casual kiss.
“So, back when we first got in line, you mentioned that you didn’t have a lot of free time to do stuff like this back in Minnesota because of school and training,” he said as he plucked an onion ring from his basket and popped it into his mouth, and he lifted his eyebrows when I nodded and toyed with a French fry. “Mind if I ask what kind of training?”
It was then that I realized I hadn’t told him about my skating, and I shifted self-consciously in my chair. “Oh, ah, yeah. Um…up until a few weeks ago I was a competitive skater,” I told him. When his eyebrows winged up even higher in surprise, I had to fight the urge to fidget.
“Like…wait.” He shook his head and his lips curved into that lopsided grin of his, and had my heart skipping again. “You mean like figure skating?” When I nodded his smile spread wider. “Any chance you’ve got some pictures of you in those cute little costumes?” He chuckled when I rolled my eyes, but since I did in fact have pictures, I pulled my phone from my purse and showed him a couple from my last competition, which I’d won.
It was because of that win that I had received the chance to go to regionals again; had I won that, I would have had a chance at going to nationals as well, and would have had another try for that elusive gold medal. But that was before everything in my life had changed, literally overnight.
“Nice,” he said, and his grin widened when I blushed softly. “Hey, is this a video of your routine?” He turned the screen to show me, and when I nodded, he lifted his eyebrows. “Can I watch it?”
I hesitated, then simply nodded, and braced myself for the ache that had now become so familiar when he tapped the screen, and I heard the opening refrains from the music. I made myself watch him as he watched the video, and when it was over and he continued to stare at the paused image of me at the end, felt a sharp pressure in my chest. “It’s dumb,” I started to say, but I closed my mouth when his gaze shot up to mine.
“No, it’s not. Coco, that was…wow. You’re amazing.” He smiled again, his eyes bright with happiness, and he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. “Seriously. I mean, I’ve never really been into all that kind of stuff – Florida boy, born and raised, so winter-based sports have never really computed much for me, I guess. But even I can tell you’ve got an amazing gift.” He held my phone back to me and cocked his head as I returned it to my purse. “Why does it make you self-conscious to have me say that?” he asked.
I shrugged and cleared my throat. “Honestly, I don’t really know. I guess I’m just not used to it being a big deal. Where I come from, it’s kind of the norm. Most of the girls in my class competed at some level, and some of the guys, too. And just about all the guys wanted to be on the hockey team. Down here, though, it’s like a different world, and I guess it makes me feel even more like an outsider.” I frowned, as I hadn’t realized this until just now. But it was true, and I wasn’t particularly sure how I felt about it.
He shook his head. “Trust me, Coco, you’re not an outsider.”
“I’m new here,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you still…click.” He shrugged when my frown deepened. “You know what I mean. You might be new, but you still fit in. You’re still part of the group, with the others.”
“Well, I mean, you are, too,” I said, but he shook his head.
“Trust me, I’m not part of that group. At best, they put up with me sitting with you guys because of you.”
I scowled at that, but since it wasn’t too far off from what I’d already concluded for myself, refrained from responding to that, and simply lifted a French fry to nibble on.
He studied me for a moment, then sighed and reached for the bottle of ketchup that sat in the center of the table. “So, back to your skating,” he grinned when I groaned and blushed. “I just have to know; did you win that competition? The one from the video?” he asked as he squirted a huge amount of ketchup into his lunch basket.
“Actually, I did,” I replied, and felt a sharp pang in my chest over the memory. “In fact, I was getting ready to head to regionals again a couple of weeks ago.”
“Wow. That’s…not a small thing to walk away from,” he said, just as Jamie had when I’d told him, and his smile suddenly faded as he studied me. “What happened? Did you get hurt?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve been fortunate that I’ve never gotten seriously injured.”
“So, why’d you stop?” he asked as he rested back in his chair.
I shrugged, then sighed when he simply continued to study me, a patient expression on his fa
ce. “My mom and I moved here,” I replied.
He stared at me for a moment, then hummed. “I see.”
“I haven’t given it up,” I told him after a long moment had passed. “Not completely. I mean, I know there aren’t any rinks here on the island – I checked – but I’m going to start looking into finding one that’s, hopefully, reasonably close by. Maybe on one of the other islands, or even on the mainland. It’d be a drive to get to if that were the case, but I could probably work it into my schedule to go at least once a week, or every other week, so that would be something.”
He hummed again, and lifted part of his sandwich and took a bite. “So, does that mean you’re planning on staying for the long haul?”
“I am,” I replied. “My mom and I are going to start looking for a house to buy.”
He nodded at the reminder, as I had texted him last night to tell him this. “So, I take it that means your appointment to look at that rental didn’t go well.”
“Actually, it went great, right up until we got to the part where my mom was about to sign the lease, and she realized the price the realtor quoted her was for the weekly rate, not the monthly one, as he had told her.” I nodded when he grimaced. “Needless to say, that particular agent lost a client, and a formal complaint is being issued to the chamber of commerce. And the mayor’s office.”
“Let me guess, the agent is Howard Lasko.” When I nodded, so did he. “Your mom wouldn’t be the first to complain about him.”
“So how does he stay in business?” I asked as I plucked another French fry from my basket.
“Friends in high places. His younger sister, Amber, is married to Norman Humphrey.”
“Neal’s father?” When he nodded, I hummed. “Since Howard’s younger than my mom, I’m assuming Amber would be Neal’s stepmother.”
“You assume correctly. I think Amber’s six years older than Neal.”
I grunted at that and shook my head. “And to think, I thought there was no way I could ever possibly have anything in common with him,” I muttered, dunking my fry into some ketchup.
“With Neal?” I nodded and Hayden frowned as he chewed a bite of an onion ring. “And what would that be?”
“My dad’s girlfriend is five years older than me,” I replied, and I shrugged when his eyes widened.
“Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.” He covered my hand with his, his expression full of sympathy. “Truly, Coco. That can’t be easy.”
I shook my head, annoyed with myself for mentioning it, or even thinking about them. “It’s been hardest on my mom,” I said, trying to brush it off. “And honestly, after the way he’s been behaving lately, she’s welcome to him.”
“I take that to mean, then, that it’s a recent development,” he said.
“My parents’ divorce was finalized three weeks ago, and my mom and I were given six and a half days to move out of our house, so he and his girlfriend could live there,” I replied.
“And that’s why you’re here now,” he guessed, understanding dawning in his expression.
“Yes.” I nodded and continued to toy with my French fry.
“Coco.” He waited patiently until I lifted my gaze to his, then he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry he hurt you, and that you’ve lost so much because of him.”
I swallowed to clear my throat and nodded. “Thank you.”
He studied me for a moment, then leaned closer and pressed his lips lightly to mine. “But I’m not sorry you’re here now,” he said when he straightened back up.
I smiled and felt my cheeks warm with another blush. “Neither am I,” I told him, and in that moment, sitting there under the umbrella with him, the scent of the ocean heavy on the warm breeze, with paradise surrounding us, it was the truth.
☼
After lunch, Hayden had to get back to work, so I headed across the street to the Courtyard, where I knew Kat and the others would be hanging out, and met up with them at Zorbas.
Apparently, Kat had had a craving for baklava.
This, I learned, was of course code for Kat needed to get her Leo fix.
Honestly, it baffled me why, when they clearly liked each other so much, and it was so obvious to everyone that they did, Jamie so stubbornly insisted that they couldn’t be more than friends. But apparently as the unspoken alpha guy of the group, Jamie’s word was law, and everyone, including Kat and Leo, simply accepted it.
Still, there were times when the chemistry between them was palpable, especially when Jamie wasn’t around.
“I still think that if you guys like each other so much you should just be together,” I said later that afternoon when Kat and I got home. We were currently in her room, going through her closet again – this time so she could find the perfect outfit to wear to Neal’s party that night.
“It’s complicated,” she said, studying a dressy tank top, her eyes narrowed in contemplation.
“How?” I asked, poking through her jewelry box from my place on her bed.
“Well…he and Jamie are best friends, and always have been,” she replied, discarding the tank top for a dress.
“And…” I lifted my eyebrows as I trailed off.
“And Jamie feels that, because they’re friends, Leo and I shouldn’t be together. He doesn’t want his friendship with Leo to be put at risk, you know, in case things didn’t work out between Leo and me, romantically.” She shrugged, her expression unhappy, and discarded the dress as well.
“So, you have to give up what could possibly be the love of your life, just so he can keep the status quo of his friendship?” I asked, frowning. “Kat, how is that fair?”
“It isn’t,” she said, and she sighed miserably as she turned away from her closet. “Jamie’s never been particularly good at sharing.”
“Obviously.” I shook my head. “Is he like that with you and all of his friends, or just Leo?” I asked.
She frowned, clearly considering my question. “Actually, he’s kind of always been like that,” she finally replied. “Back when we were twelve, I had a very minor crush on his friend Ian, and he forbid me from inviting Ian to go see a movie with me.”
“And yet he’s perfectly content to flirt with your friends,” I said, thinking of the way he was always flirting with Aly.
“And yet,” she said in agreement as she dropped miserably down onto her bed beside me. “A brother’s logic apparently only has to make sense to him,” she added, and she shrugged again when my frown deepened.
“And your parents don’t find anything wrong with it?” I asked, shaking my head.
“They probably would, if I told them,” she replied, absently plucking a pair of earrings from her bedspread.
“You haven’t told them?”
“You could say I’m holding it in reserve, for when he does something to really piss me off.” She held the earrings up to her ears. “What do you think?”
I studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “They’re great,” I told her. “You should wear that peacock green sundress, with your hair down.”
Her eyes widened, then she grinned. “That’s perfect.” She threw her arms around me in a quick hug, then bounced off the bed to go pull the dress from her closet.
I watched her as she excitedly changed into it, already talking about which shoes she’d wear, and felt a sharp tug of sympathy for her, even as my annoyance with Jamie grew.
Then she turned to me, her makeup kit in hand, and declared we both needed a touch-up for our big nights out and hopped back onto her bed to get started on that.
When we were finished our touch-ups – re: total make overs – we helped our moms set up the tables out on the lanai, then as Uncle Jim and Jamie got the grills going, helped put the salads together in the kitchen.
It seemed like a ridiculous amount of food, especially when Uncle Hank and Aunt Connie arrived with more food – a huge bowl of Aunt Connie’s (apparently famous) coleslaw, and a massive platter of brownies, with a party tub of ice cream to go
with them.
“Don’t worry, between Jamie, Zach, and the Butler boys, there won’t be any leftovers,” Margo said in a particularly harassed voice as she set the giant bowl of coleslaw on the island counter. She had an annoyed look on her face, and in the two minutes she’d been standing there beside me, she had checked her watch twice.
I lifted my eyebrows and reached across the counter to gather a couple of the large plastic serving spoons that Aunt Nora had taken out of a drawer to use for tonight. “Everything okay?” I asked. So far, I hadn’t spent all that much one-on-one time with Margo, so things still felt slightly awkward when I found myself alone with her.
She shifted her slender shoulders in a restless shrug. “I just want to get this night started,” she said, yanking the cover off the bowl.
Since she hadn’t been at the Courtyard with the others earlier, I had a feeling whatever she’d been up to was the culprit behind her current mood. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Jamie took one look at her as he came in through the sliding doors with a platter and a pair of grill tongs, and lifted his eyebrows.
“Oh, great. Are you PMSing again?” he asked, crossing over to the sink.
“Ah!” Margo and I both tossed our wadded-up balls of foil at him.
It was such a typical guy thing to do, to go straight for the monthly cycle to explain the root of her unhappiness.
He ducked the balls of foil, and chuckled as he turned back to the sink to wash the platter and tongs.
“You’re such an ass,” Margo snapped, glaring at him.
“Hey, now. You were the one who was giving the coleslaw a death-ray glare, so it was a perfectly legitimate question.” He reached for a towel and wiped his hands off, then dried the platter and tongs as well. When he was finished, he leaned back against the counter and lifted his eyebrows. “Did Wesley not capitulate to your terms for the reinstatement of your relationship?”
“Oh, jeez,” Delaney said as he walked through the hall doorway, his arms loaded with bags of potato chips – seriously, where did they think all this food was going to go? “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me that you guys seriously aren’t starting up the cycle again.” He set the bags of chips down on the table and ignored the nasty look Margo shot him.
