by Aurora Rey
“Economical?” Tisha stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
Graham couldn’t suppress another snicker. Nora gave Tisha a bland look. “Really?”
Tisha picked up the board she’d been arranging when Graham arrived. “This is ready to go out.”
Nora accepted it and turned to leave. Before she pushed through the swinging door back into the dining room, she said, “I wonder sometimes why I like you.”
Unfazed by the insult, Tisha laughed and called after her, “You and me both, woman.”
When she’d gone, Graham turned her attention back to Tisha. “Are you joining us for dinner? I brought four lobsters in case.”
Tisha offered her a warm smile. “It’s sweet you thought of me, but I got plans of my own.”
“Hot date?”
Tisha raised a brow. “I might have met one of the new cooks at the Lobster Pot.”
“Is he good looking or did he offer to make you dinner?”
Tisha’s eyes gleamed. “Girl, what makes you think it’s not both?”
“I should have expected nothing less. We’ll miss you, but I’m glad it’s for such a good reason.” Graham looked around the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“No, you take a drink and go relax.”
Graham eyed the pitcher of sangria that had yet to be put out for happy hour. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
She poured herself a glass and headed to the backyard, figuring most of the inn’s guests would congregate on the front porch and in the sitting room. She picked one of the benches in the shade and made herself comfortable. The garden was in full bloom. Graham inhaled deeply, appreciating the fragrance as much as the flash of color. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh.
It took less than ten seconds for the image of the lobsterwoman to fill her brain. For the last few days, Graham had made a point of wandering the pier before and after her shifts. A couple of times, she even used her lunch hour to try and catch a glimpse of the Paquette and its sexy captain. She’d succeeded three times. Two of those times, the woman had looked her way. Both times, she offered the same easy, knowing smile.
Graham opened her eyes and huffed out a breath. Her worst fear was to spend the rest of the season half admiring, half stalking this woman, and never even learning her name. But it seemed unlikely the woman would leave her boat to talk to Graham. If only she could run into her somewhere else. Neutral territory, ideally with Graham wearing something nicer than her Dolphin Fleet polo shirt and a pair of khakis.
“Why do you look so perturbed?” Will stood near the side gate, a look of concern on her face.
“I’m not perturbed.” She wasn’t. Mildly frustrated, maybe.
“Could have fooled me.” Will, dressed in her own Dolphin Fleet uniform, angled her head and met Graham’s gaze.
“Do you know that I’ve lived in Provincetown for over a year, not to mention the whole summer before that, and I haven’t hooked up with a single woman that whole time?”
“Do you want a hookup?”
Graham sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe? I want to do something. I’ve had exactly two dates. No girlfriend. No action. None.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Will sat next to her on the bench. “I hear you.”
“It just feels a bit pathetic, to be in a town teeming with lesbians, completely celibate.”
Will nodded. “I felt the same when I first moved here, even knowing I was just out of a relationship and needed to regroup.”
“Yeah, I’m grouped. I’d like someone to come and,” she waved her hands back and forth, “muss me up.”
Will chuckled at the description. “Is this a general feeling you’re having or has someone stirred your pot?”
It seemed ridiculous to confess her pseudo-obsession with a woman she’d never actually spoken to. And, really, this woman only stirred up feelings that had been there all along. “General, I’d say.”
Will narrowed her eyes. “Really?”
She appreciated that Will knew her well enough not to take everything she said at face value. “I happened upon an exceptionally hot woman the other day. She may have brought things to the surface.”
“Who is she? Do I know her?”
“I doubt it. She works on one of the lobster boats that moor at MacMillan Pier.”
Will folded her arms and leaned forward. “Oh, a townie. Intriguing. Tell me more.”
“There’s not much to tell. I saw her. She’s hot. That’s about it.”
“Have you spoken to her? Do you know if she’s local? Is it her boat or does she just work on it?”
“We’ve not spoken, so I know nothing. I’m not even sure how I’d initiate a conversation.” Graham thought about Jess’s many and varied ideas for doing so.
Will looked at the sky. “How about, ‘Hi, I was admiring your boat. Do you come here often?’”
Graham snorted. “Okay, that is truly terrible.”
Will shrugged. “Do you have something better?”
Graham let her shoulders slump. “No.”
“Well, maybe beggars shouldn’t be choosers.”
“Maybe we could not use the term beggar to talk about my love life.”
Will leaned over, bumping her shoulder against Graham’s. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m feeling pretty awkward and pathetic already. Beggar isn’t much of a leap.”
“I was kidding. You’re lovely.” Will looked at her earnestly.
“And single.”
“And beautiful and smart and a total catch.”
“And single.” She paused between each word for extra emphasis.
“Oh, Graham.”
Will frowned and Graham could see that she was truly worried. Graham made a point of smiling. She squeezed Will’s leg. “It’s okay. I’m being dramatic.”
Will sighed heavily. “No, I understand how you feel. It’s hard.”
Graham shook her head. She did not want to wallow. “It’s not that bad. I’m not looking to get married or anything. I’m twenty-five. I’ve got time for that. Maybe you’re right and I should just put myself out there a little more.”
Will perked up. “That’s the spirit. Talk to your lobsterwoman.”
“Maybe.”
“You could also—” Will’s suggestion was interrupted by Nora calling to them. Will said, “We’re out here.”
Before Nora had a chance to join them, Graham placed a hand on Will’s arm. “Can we keep this between us?”
Will offered a knowing nod. “Of course.”
“How’s the party?” Graham asked as Nora approached.
“In full swing. Six of them are teacher friends. Who knew teachers were such party animals?”
“I’m not surprised.” Will stood and gave Nora a kiss. “I bet teachers are excellent at relaxing.”
Graham laughed at the idea. “They’d have to be, right?”
“Can I help with anything?” Will asked, sliding an arm around Nora’s waist.
“Not a thing. The food is under control and my guests are so chatty with each other, I didn’t even hesitate to sneak away to come search for you two.”
“Aunt Nora, are you playing hooky?” Graham opened her eyes wide and used her most scandalized voice.
Nora straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair. “I am exploring a more relaxed management style.”
“I see.” Graham bit the inside of her cheek and tried to decide if it was okay to laugh. A peek at Will and the serious look on her face told her maybe not. “Well, I think it’s great. And everything about a stay at Failte is so perfect, I can’t imagine your guests will mind one bit, if they even notice.”
Nora folded her arms. “You can say it. I have a tendency to overdo.”
Graham shook her head. She knew better. “Nope. I know no such thing.”
Nora’s expression turned to one of playful exasperation. “You didn’t hesitate to ma
ke your feelings known when I broke my arm last year, or when you decided to meddle in my love life.”
Now it was Graham’s turn to be exasperated. “You’re really going to complain about that?”
Nora turned her head and planted a kiss on Will’s cheek. “Not one bit.”
“Okay, then. Did you two decide who’s going to cook the lobsters I bought us?”
Will raised a hand. “Nora made dessert, so it’s all me.”
Graham smiled. “I love teamwork.”
It was just after seven when the last of Nora’s guests cleared out for dinners or shows or walks along the beach. Tisha was long gone. Will took charge in the kitchen, insisting she had everything under control. She wasn’t squeamish, but Graham had no problem at all being far, far away when the lobsters went into the pot. She helped Nora set the table out in the garden, in part because it was a lovely night and in part because it would make cleanup a lot easier.
Will came out with potatoes, corn, and three small bowls of drawn butter. She made a second trip for the main course. Nora opened a sauvignon blanc. Before long, they were seated together, each with a huge lobster tail in front of them. They took turns with the kitchen shears, snipping the shell up one side and down the other. Graham pitched her shell into the bucket at her feet and smiled at the plump, succulent meat in front of her. “Thanks for cooking.”
“I think we’re the ones thanking you,” Will said, raising her glass.
“Agreed.” Nora dipped a forkful into the butter. “This is lovely and indulgent.”
Graham thought about the lobsterwoman, wondered if she regularly enjoyed her catch like this. For the first time since the woman had taken up residence in her mind, Graham considered that she might have a wife. Or girlfriend. Or husband. Good God, please don’t let her have a husband. That would make her unattainable and mean Graham’s instincts were way off. She shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. “I’m glad we get to be lovely and indulgent together.”
After dinner, Nora brought out a perfect looking lemon tart. Despite being beyond full, Graham had a slice. She knew how much butter went into it. Even with that knowledge, she convinced herself it was a refreshing, if not light, way to end the meal.
They lingered outside until the sun began to set. The air took on a chill and Graham wished she’d brought a sweater. As if sensing her thoughts, Nora offered her one. She accepted it with thanks and a promise to return it in the next couple of days. After hugs and numerous promises to do it again soon, with or without lobster, Graham wished them good night.
As she walked along Bradford Street, Graham thought about Will and Nora, tidying the kitchen, deciding on a movie to watch before bed. She was happy for them, truly. But the mild desire she’d mentioned to Will earlier had grown into a persistent longing. She needed to break out of the rut she’d inadvertently found herself in, whether it was with the striking woman from the lobster boat or not.
Chapter Four
Are you going out tonight?
Mat glanced at her phone, then back in the mirror. Satisfied with her look, she picked up the phone and typed a reply. Do you really have to ask?
It was Portuguese Festival weekend. That included the blessing of the fleet at noon the next day, which meant she wouldn’t even need to think about rolling out of bed until nine. A rare treat in the summer, and one she had no intention of wasting.
I’ll be at your place in ten.
Mat smiled and headed to the kitchen to grab the rest of her things. She stuffed cash and her ID into the slim billfold she liked for going out, then slid it into the back pocket of her dark jeans. Her phone went into the other, and a single apartment key into the front.
While she waited for Dom, she peeked into the bedroom to make sure everything looked neat and tidy. It did. As did the living room and the kitchen. She was just putting on her shoes when a knock came at the door. Before she could answer, much less open it, Dom breezed in. “You ready?”
Mat stood. “Yep.”
“The pad all ready for whoever you bring home?”
Mat looked around. Out of nowhere, the image of the girl from the pier popped into her mind. Weird. She shook it off. “Yep.”
Dom shook his head. “I was kidding.”
Mat shrugged. “It pays to be prepared.”
“I think if I tried that, it would jinx me.”
“The fact that you only have eyes for Renata is what’s jinxing you.”
Dom let out a dramatic sigh. “True story.”
Since the gesture was more good-natured than truly forlorn, Mat gave in to the urge to tease him. “You know, she’s probably waiting for you to make a move.”
“I am making my move. I’m just not a sprinter like you, over practically before I start.”
“You wound me.” Mat slapped a hand to her chest in mock offense. When Dom gave her a bland look in response, she added, “Maybe go for the 800-meter instead of the marathon.”
Dom punched her in the arm. “Why do girls find you charming again?”
Mat opened the door and gestured for Dom to lead the way. “I’d be happy to give you lessons.”
Mat locked the door behind them. Dom slung an arm around her shoulders. “I think I’ll stick with my own methods, thanks.”
Mat shook her head. “Suit yourself.”
Their first stop was the community dinner. Mat’s parents were there, along with aunts, uncles, cousins, and her eighty-seven-year-old grandmother. Enough tourists were there, eating lobster rolls and kale soup, that Mat felt the odd sensation of having disparate worlds mingling together.
“You’ll stay for dancing, yes?” Her mother’s face was more expectant than questioning.
“Of course, Ma.”
“Beatrice’s mother says Constance might be gay, so you should dance with her, talk her up.”
Mat had known Constance was gay ever since the sixth grade when they made out in the shadow of the monument at this exact event. The idea that she might just be coming around to owning it—or, perhaps more likely, telling her parents—made Mat vaguely sad. “Okay.”
“I think she could use a friend is all. Someone in the community.”
Mat appreciated that her mother wasn’t in a constant state of trying to fix her up. She’d watched her brothers endure relentless attempts at matchmaking from the moment they turned eighteen until the day they got married. But as much as she didn’t want it, it bothered her that the reprieve seemed to be solely a function of her sexual orientation. She wondered if that would change now that a nice, eligible Portuguese girl might be right under her nose. “I’ll track her down, I promise.”
She and Dom grabbed dinner. Mat enjoyed watching him scan the crowd for Renata. The two of them had been talking and flirting for months, but had yet to go on an official date, much less sleep together. It was frustrating to watch; she couldn’t imagine living it. He’d always been rather old-fashioned. She hoped it was that holding him back and not some concern about how Renata felt about him being trans.
Mat indulged in a little crowd watching of her own. Between knowing so many people and the feeling that her mother was watching her, she didn’t engage in any flirting. Didn’t, at least, until she locked eyes with the woman from the pier. She was in a dress this time, a blue one that made her eyes stand out across the room. She appeared to be with someone, but that didn’t stop her from offering Mat a smile. Mat returned it, wondering if she’d get a chance to talk with her this time.
Before she could act on it, Mat got pulled into a conversation with her Aunt Dores about the recent negotiations at Osteria 160. By the time Mat extricated herself, the gorgeous redhead with the bright blue eyes was gone. She chalked it up to fate, but not without hoping their paths might cross later.
Eventually, Dom found out from a cousin that Renata was home with the flu. The poor guy seemed utterly deflated.
“We’ll go out after, take your mind off things.” She slapped a hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze. �
�Who knows? Maybe some pretty girl will catch your eye.” She didn’t mention the one who’d already captured hers.
Dom shook his head and regarded her with disdain. “I’m pretty sure a bar is the absolute last place I’d go looking for the love of my life.”
Mat made a confused face. “Who said anything about the love of your life?”
His only response was to roll his eyes. Mat enjoyed teasing him. It was part of their back-and-forth, not to mention part of what made him an excellent wingman. In truth, she found his quaint sensibilities sweet, even if she didn’t share them.
She kept her promise to her mother, seeking out Constance in the crowd. But her concerns had been for naught. Constance, looking far more butch than Mat remembered or even would have imagined, had the rapt attention of no fewer than three women. Mat had to chuckle. Things sure had changed in the decade since she first came out, or perhaps more accurately, since she’d been yanked out of the closet against her will.
She wondered if her life might be different had she come out later, on her own terms. Probably not much. She could imagine her parents tolerating her sexuality a little better than they had at first, but truly supportive? She couldn’t picture it. Which was why she kept her worlds nice and tidy and separate. It made it easier for everyone.
She nudged Dom, who also seemed to be watching Constance bask in the attention she was getting. “You ready to get out of here?”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s barely nine.”
She angled her head. “I don’t see this party improving with age.”
He snickered. “Good point. Let me kiss my mom good night.”
Mat laughed, but spent the next few minutes doing the same. She might not want her worlds to collide, but she loved them both.
A short while later, she and Dom strolled down Commercial Street. “Maybe I should bring Renata some soup,” Dom said.
Mat raised a brow. “If she’s as gaga for you as you are for her, the last thing in the world she’ll want is you showing up on her doorstep when she feels, and probably looks, terrible.”
Dom frowned. “I don’t care what she looks like when she’s sick.”
