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“Can you arrange that?” She dragged the ladder over to the next hook. “Luke is a good guy. But he’s a floater. One thing, then the other. Nothing taken too seriously. Nothing lasts too long. I don’t want to be hurt by that.”
“I don’t blame you.” Chris taped another length of garland and crossed her eyes at Eva’s glare.
“Well, I do. This is a kid who had a serious tragedy early in his life, and a pretty crappy childhood, from what Zac’s told me, who messed up once and has been paying for it ever since. He had to give up his school, his friends, his part of the country. No wonder he doesn’t want to commit to anything right now.”
Summer froze on the ladder, blinking down at Eva.
“And you.” Eva whirled on Chris. “You were incredibly brittle when you came out here, exhausted and beaten down. Once you settled in, you immediately started sounding like your old self again, maybe even coming out of your usual shell a little. Then you go through this weird Peace, Love and Coma thing and start sounding like you’re half-dead.”
Chris narrowed her eyes. “Hey, I was—”
“And now, these last couple of weeks, you’ve been sounding wonderful and excited and free, Chris. Different than I’ve ever seen you.” Eva pointed emphatically. “So, the big question is, for one million dollars, Chris Meyer, guess who was part of your life both times you were feeling better than you ever have in your life?”
Chris froze at the counter, blinking at Eva.
“I rest my case.” She clapped her hands together.
They finished decorating, Chris and Summer mostly in stunned silence, Eva chatty and self-satisfied.
Was she right? Had Chris really come alive when Zac was around? Did that mean her big transformations had less to do with the Peace, Love and Joy Center or California and more to do with Zac?
It was possible. It made sense. It changed nothing.
They worked on until the store was Valentined up the wazoo, then they put away the boxes and the ladder. Summer and Chris emerged from the office to find Eva holding a bottle of champagne and three plastic cups.
“Now that’s done and looking fabulous, we are going to polish off this entire bottle of champagne, because we are celebrating.” She separated the cups and put them onto a table.
“What are we celebrating?” Chris exchanged what-the-heck glances with Summer and the two women walked over to Eva. “Ames’s job?”
“That, sure.” She eased out the cork, which emitted a satisfying thwunk.
“Your move back to Slow Pour?” Summer asked.
“That, sure.” Eva poured a glass and handed it to her.
“You and Ames getting married someday?”
“That, sure.” Eva handed Chris a glass and poured one for herself. “But mostly...”
“Your pregnancy?” Chris asked sweetly.
“Ack! No way.” Eva glared at her, then raised her glass up high and waited for them to do the same, looking slyly back and forth between them. “We are celebrating today, because some time tomorrow, outside this very shop, someone will be getting engaged.”
Chris and Summer looked at each other, then back at Eva. “Who?”
14
“I’M DONE. I’M going in.” Luke struggled to his feet amid tumbling foam from yet another wipeout, his soaked hair sticking out in all directions, and retrieved his surfboard—one of Zac’s old ones. “No offense, but this sport is ridiculous.”
“You did fine.” Zac paddled toward him, letting a small wave speed him along. He was also ready to come in, though the breaks were good that morning, and not crowded. He’d thought spending some time out in the water and out of his head might make him feel better. Usually it did. Today, not so much. “It takes a while to get the feel of it.”
“Yeah, well, I need about a year to recover my ego and dignity before I try again.”
“You should have seen me the first time.” Zac stood and picked up his board. “Leg tangled in the leash, board bonking me on the head. It was ugly.”
“If you say so.” Luke walked alongside him, stumbling and swearing when an unexpected wave caught him behind the knees. “I’m not sure how much seawater you have to drink before you die, but I’ve got to be close.”
