I can see the exact moment Sean misinterprets what I said. When a corner of his mouth tips up and he shakes his head, I’m broughtback to the years we worked together in Boston, when I was always joking that I had appointments even though I was really going to meet up with whatever woman I was hooking up with at the time. Feels like a lifetime ago. I haven’t been that guy in a long time, though I do still enjoy the occasional casual hookup.
I should correct the mistake, but I don’t.
“You kids have fun,” Sean says, clapping me on the back again. “I’ll see you later.”
I wave over my shoulder as I head to my bike, straddling the old Yamaha that’s been in storage since late last fall. I figured if the sun insisted on shining and Sean insisted on dragging my ass to small-town Maine, I might as well enjoy myself getting there.
Just as I’m about to pull out, I see the same black SUV from this morning drive past. I catch a glimpse of that long braid slung over one shoulder and an easy smile on her face as Elsie slows to wave to someone walking past on the sidewalk. At first I think she doesn’t notice me, but she spares a quick glare my way before she steps on the gas and speeds past.
No smiles and friendly waves for me. For some reason, I can’t help grinning anyway.
CHAPTER 4
Elsie
If I had the chance to choose a last meal before my time on earth is up, hopefully a long time from now, I’d choose the grilled chicken and pesto panini from Captain’s Corner.
“Bury me with this sandwich, please,” I mumble around a too-large bite. I’ve been coming to Olivia’s mom’s restaurant for nearly half my life and I never get tired of the food.
“And me with these fries,” Grace adds. “And the mozzarella sticks.”
Olivia rolls her eyes, but the grin on her face gives her away. She’s proud of her mom and I know how much she loves that when it comes to eating out in Port Myles, Captain’s is always our first pick. These four walls with the big windows overlooking the bay have been witness to it all over the years: all the times we’d rehash our breakups and fights over giant slices of cheesecake, the celebratory dinners for new jobs and other wins in our lives, the drunken convos over shared plates of fries after leaving our favorite bar down the street. Nights like those have become few and farbetween as we’ve gotten older, but these old redbrick walls remember. I feel it every time I step inside.
“So,” Olivia begins, dipping a fry into some kind of aioli that’s so good I’d lick it straight from the little steel cup. ”How did it go?”
I knew this conversation was coming, but I sigh anyway, not ready to face reality yet.
“It was perfect,” I admit. “I love that building.”
“Then why do you look like someone spit in your panini?” Grace asks.
“Because it’s a lot bigger than I actually need and I can’t afford it.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but I feel anything but casual about it.
I want that space.Badly.
“Sorry, babe,” Grace says. “That sucks.” Not one to mince words or say anything she doesn’t mean, I knew she wouldn’t beat around the bush about it.
Ever the planner, Olivia offers, “I’ll go through local listings tonight and send you some others you might want to check out. Let me know your budget and how far you’re willing to go from Main Street, and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ve been scouring the local real estate market for months now, and available spaces to buy or lease in this town are borderline non-existent. Maybe if one of us has some hope, I can live in denial for a bit longer.
“Thanks. I appreciate the help.”
“Hi girls,” a sing-song voice calls out from behind me. Olivia’s mom, Gail, weaves her way through the packed tables and stops behind Olivia’s chair, resting her hands lightly on her daughter’s shoulders. A small smile flits at the corners of Olivia’s lips and she looks so at ease, so content. Something tugs at my chest at the sight of it.
I would have supported Olivia if she had decided to stay out in California with her brother like they’d always planned, but I’m so glad she changed her mind and came back home. I know that home can be wherever you make it, but for Olivia – and me, for that matter – home will always be Port Myles. And for her fiancé, Cam? Well, home is wherever Olivia is.
“Hi, Gail,” Grace and I say in unison.
“How’s lunch?”
“If I ever get married someday,” Grace tells her, “I don’t want a wedding cake. I want a tower of these fries with aioli dripping down the entire thing.” To emphasize her point, she licks some off her fingers with a loudsmack.
“Gross,” Olivia laughs, tossing a napkin at her.
“I never get tired of feeding you girls,” Gail says fondly. She pulls out the fourth chair at our table and sits, snagging a fry off the plate we’ve been sharing. “What are we talking about?”
“Elsie was just telling us about the –”
