I remember a time when his favorite band played a venue outside of town in Port Camden. We were only sixteen, and Serena had just gotten, but Teddy was convinced that he’d be able to persuade all of our parents. None of us knew how he managed to pull it off.
When he made up his mind about something, it happened by sheer will and the full force of his charisma.
It seemed that whatever he decided, Teddy had now directed it at me.
“So, how have you been, Margot?” Teddy started, propping an elbow on the table and curling his fingers over his mouth. “Georgie pretty much gave me the rundown—pottery shop, loving boyfriend—but what about you?”
The sound of tires screeching returned to my mind as I struggled with a response. To tell or not to tell my uber-successful ex that I’d landed flat on my face?
“She’s taking a sabbatical from work,” Georgie blurted.
Teddy’s eyebrows lifted. I strained to keep from choking on air. Georgie wore a spectacular thousand-watt smile.
I stared at the edge of the table, at my cuticles, and at the tuft of clouds drifting outside. Anything than at the guy who would be able to see right through me.
Georgie always told me—practically since infancy—that I had a terrible poker face. Usually, that didn’t matter. Articulating my opinions was, allegedly, a rampant flaw of mine. On the otherhand, I was in no danger of being told I talk about my emotions too much.Thatmade me want to pluck my eyelashes out.
“Here y’all go.”
I’d never been so happy to see my mother before.
The feeling only lasted a few seconds, because she slid our plates before us one by one and proceeded to take a seat beside Teddy. I shoved a fry in my mouth and intently watched the glean of the grease on my burger.
This was turning out to be more uncomfortable than the business dinner where an author threw her wine in my face.
To be fair, I probably deserved it.
“So, you in town for Fallfest? How long you stayin’?”
Another fry in my mouth. Perhaps I’d gotten my FBI-interrogator-style conversation skills from my mother.
Kind, gracious Teddy subtly eyed his plate of golden fried chicken before turning to Ruth. “I’m on assignment for a magazine. The Summer’s End Festival received quite a bit of exposure, so Fallfest is slated to be even bigger.”
Georgie seemed as if she was about to explode—from excitement or terror, I couldn’t tell. The summer festival had nearly undone her, thanks to a seasonally late storm and a handful of major vendors cancelling their contracts. She was in a better place now, though, and so were we.
“Bluebell Cove will eat that up,” Mom said, her voice gleeful as if she hadn’t actively participated in my demise. “National magazine coverage? Mercy, Georgie, all your hard work’ll finally pay off.”
Georgie made a strangled sound that could have been agreement, or maybe a small prayer for divine intervention.
Teddy leaned back, his arm stretched casually along the booth as his gaze flicked to me. “Remember when we snuck into the hay maze as kids one year? We were too impatient to wait for our parents to take us.”
My deliciously fried potato turned to ash in my mouth. “Yeah,” I muttered flatly. “I remember.”
He laughed, the sound warm and unbothered. “And you got stuck halfway through and cried until—”
“Until I clawed my way out.” I interrupted, stabbing my lettuce-wrapped burger and cutting a chunk off. “I wonder whereyouwere when that happened, Ruth?”
For a beat, the table fell except for the clink of Georgie swishing her ice water. I stuffed my too-large piece of burger into my mouth and pretended like I wasn’t three seconds from needing emergency intervention. Teddy’s smile faltered, just for a second.
“I suppose I don’t know,” Mom replied, any ounce of oblivious delight having vanished.
Our gazes met across the table as our onlookers stared. We both knew what she meant by, “I don’t know”. That diner—the place she loved more than me or dad, at the corner of Main Street, in the town that was a close second in her heart.
She didn’t have to say anything else, because if I closed my eyes, I could see that night like it was yesterday. The scratch of the hay as it crushed my legs and scraped the skin, Teddy’s wild, terrified shouts before he ran to get help, and the unease that squeezed my stomach the moment I came to terms with it: my parents wouldn’t be coming.
Georgie clapped suddenly. “So!” she cut in. “Festival coverage. No pressure, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Teddy responded, watching me for a second longer before his eyes flicked to Georgie and that familiar smile returned. “They’re—what’s the word they used in the email—‘obsessed’ with the… er… small town ‘vibe.’ You won’t have to stress about impressing them, Georgie.”
