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Do I love my job? No. Were Patrick and I as crazy about each other at the end of our relationship as we were at the beginning? Also no. To be honest, I was never as crazy about Patrick as I was about Riley. I loved Patrick, don’t get me wrong. But the feelings I had for Riley went deeper and were far more intense. Maybe because I was eighteen? Because he was my first everything?
I don’t know. But I do know that up until two weeks ago, life was all right, and that was enough.
I just wish I felt the way I do right now, plating beautiful food for a meal with my favorite people in what used to be my favorite place on the planet, more often.
But really, how much can I expect out of life? It’s asking for too much, isn’t it, to love what I do, and be in love, and be successful too? You can’t have it all.
Unless you’re a man. But that’s another topic for another day.
My head feels uncomfortably crowded when I finally sit at the table with Mom and Lady.
“I told Granny we’d FaceTime her.” I prop up my phone against a heavy brass pepper mill. “Maybe she’d like to eat with us.”
Lady nods, peeling the translucent shell off a perfectly cooked shrimp. “Bet she’d love that.”
Granny must’ve remembered to charge her phone this time, because she picks up on the first ring, a big old smile on her face. “It’s my three beautiful ladies, eating some beautiful food. Warms my heart! Gracious, would you look at those shrimp! Louise has been cooking, I see.”
“Lucky for us.” Mom sops up the sauce with a piece of bread. “These shrimp are amazing, Mama.”
Granny smiles at me. “How much butter you use?”
“You don’t want to know,” I reply.
“Right answer. Oh, how I wish I could be there with y’all.”
Lady holds up her wine glass. “Miss you, Mama.”
Granny holds up what appears to be a margarita. “Miss you more.”
I answer Granny’s questions as I peel my shrimp and eat hunk after hunk of bread. “So far, so good on the wedding front. Goldie and Coop really lucked out.”
“I’m so glad. I’m also glad you’re eating again. You seem to be feeling better?”
I blink, surprised to find that I really am feeling . . . not good, but not bad either.
“I’m okay,” I answer honestly. “I think the carbs are helping.”
“Carbs help everything,” Lady replies. “Maybe that’s why Patrick was so miserable. He was hangry.”
“And an ass.” Granny shakes her head. “I’m telling you, Lulu, you may not recognize it now, but I think you’ll be glad that relationship didn’t work out. Just look at me and your m—”
The doorbell rings, making me jump. “Must be the golf cart guy.”
“Riley’s golf cart guy?” Granny asks.
I drop my fork. “How do you know Riley has a golf cart guy?”
“Not my fault that man’s got his fingers in every pie on that island. Maybe he’ll put his fingers in your—”
“What in the world are they mixing in your cocktails at that facility?” Mom asks, horrified.
“I’ll get the door,” I say, rising to my feet.
Lady rises too, wiping her mouth on one of Granny’s monogrammed linen napkins. “I want to see the golf cart guy.”
I grab my phone. “We’ll talk to you later, Granny.”
I don’t know why I run down the stairs. It’s not like Riley’s going to personally return Old Winny.
Lady hot on my heels—wait, why is she also running?—I open the door to find an enormous man covered in tattoos standing on the front step.
It’s Tuck, Riley’s friend. I met him once or twice that summer ten years ago, but we never really got to hang out. Riley talked a lot about him though.
“Evening, y’all. Apologies for the bother, but I got your golf carts.”
I blink. “Carts? But there was only one.”
Lady pokes her head out the door. “Hey, Tuck. Your daddy here?”
Another man’s face appears over the first’s shoulder. They’re carbon copies of each other, but the older one’s dark hair is peppered with grey. “That you, Lady?” His face creases in a smile. “Hello. Tuck asked me to help him with his errand over here—I drove one of the carts.”
“Lucky for us.” My aunt curls her hair behind her ear. “Hello, Joe. By the way, the shrimp are delicious. Thanks for the recommendation.”
I’ve heard about Joe from Riley, but I’ve never met him.
He puts his hands on his hips, the skin at the edges of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad y’all are enjoying ’em. Stop by the stand anytime—we always love seeing a familiar face. Special’s always on for you.”
“Careful, Joe, or I just might take you up on that every day this summer.”
“I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”
“Bet you say that to all the women on the island.”
