Page 42 of The Other Half

“With pleasure.” He smiled and something popped inside me.

I don’t know if it was the smile, the admission he’d take care of me, or the deeper meaning that meant he’d still be around down the road, but those two words, even said in jest, nearly sent me tumbling off my bar stool. While my stunned expression transformed into a grin, I struggled for my comeback. But before I could answer, the door burst open and a sea of green and gold spilled in.

This time it wasn’t the Packers colors I was so accustomed to seeing at the Ox. It was men in baseball uniforms cheering while they came in single file.

“Haaaaabaaaaa!” They cheered, drawing out the word.

“Haaabaaa?” I asked Jake while we watched them pour in.

“It’s the Baileys Harbor baseball team. Harbor. Haabaa.” He smiled and shrugged. “It’s a locals thing.”

The bar exploded in applause for them when they entered.

“Looks like they won today.”

“Haabaaaa!” They roared again when they made it to the bar. Kyle moved fast and started handing Bud Lights to all of them.

“So, this is like, a thing?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yep. Each town in Door County has a team and they go to war every Sunday. Today they played Egg Harbor. It’s a grudge match.”

“This small-town thing really is a world of its own, isn’t it?”

“That we are. And us Haabaa boys don’t like to lose.”

“Am I a Haabaa girl now, too?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“There are levels to being a local. There’s not a hard and fast rule, but the general guidelines for calling yourself a local are all pretty similar. First, there’s the native, who was born here. That’s me. The local is someone who’s lived here year-round for at least five years. Leaving in the winter for more than a vacation removes the honor and they need to start over. Then there are transplants, who moved up here and stay here the majority of the year but spend part of the winter elsewhere. Then there are summer people, who only come up during the season. In order to be a Haabaa girl, you’d need to be a Baileys Harbor local, meaning you stay at least five years. So, I guess that depends on you. Are you just here for the summer?”

The weight of his stare pushed me down into my stool. Swallowing hard, I struggled to come up with an answer. He was searching and I knew it, but the reality was I didn’t know. I didn’t know how long Grandpa would make me stay here, and now, after meeting Jake, I didn’t know how long I’d want to stay here. Suddenly the gravity of this small town seemed to suck me to the ground. Did I want to leave anymore? Would I race home the minute Grandpa told me I had redeemed myself? A few days ago I would have bolted back in an instant, but the way those blue eyes stared through me had me wondering what I’d do when the call came.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” I said, trying to keep it vague.

“Oh,” Jake answered, then turned away and took a sip of his drink. Did he want me to stay?

“Here you go!” Kyle said, arriving with a basket of some little brown deep-fried balls. I was grateful for the interruption and hoped we wouldn’t have to have this conversation again. At least until I could figure out what Jake’s intentions were. He was still a closed book I hadn’t even begun to pry open. One minute he treated me like a leper, and the next I felt like we were on a date. It was giving me emotional whiplash.

“It’s her first time,” Jake said to Kyle when he set them down.

“Ever?” Kyle’s eyes saucered. “You’ve never had a cheese curd, either?”

I shook my head.

“Carbs.” Jake rolled his eyes.

Kyle returned the roll and shook his head. “Women.”

I stared at the basket of cheese curds while two sets of eyes bore through me. “Do I just like, eat it?”

“Dip it in the ranch dressing first, then eat it.” Kyle pushed them toward me.

While they stared at me, I tentatively picked up the crunchy ball of cheese and dipped it in the white sauce. After taking a deep breath, I popped it into my mouth. An explosion of flavor forced my eyes shut as I moaned. “Mmm... it’s so good!”

Their mirrored smiles met mine while I reached for another one.