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Eloise wouldn't let that bother her. Art was art, and every artist deserved attention. “I haven't been to one of those stores in what feels like forever.”
“You don't go there once a week like my mom and sisters?”
Eloise’s eyes widened and shook her head. “Is that a thing?”
Kiel started nodding before she could finish her question. “It’s such a thing. I’ll bet you a week or two, tops, before you’re heading to the nearest store on restock day.”
Eloise stuck her hand out and shook his. “You’re on.”
“So, if you’re not a Tuesday shopper, what do you do for fun, then? Because, according to the three of them, that is the most fun ever!” He held his free hand up and waved it in the air.
Laughter broke out between them. “I'm definitely missing out then.” She caught her breath and wiped at her eyes. “As for what I do for fun, you're looking at it. I just moved here, or moved back.”
“Really? I took you for a townie.”
Eloise cringed at being called a townie.
“Yeah, I had a feeling that was going to be the wrong term.”
She brushed the word away. “It’s not the wrong term, just not widely used here on the island. I used to live here until my parents divorced. I should’ve stayed with my aunt. But when you’re an impressionable teen, living in Europe sounds like a dream come true. I thought being there would be life changing. It sort of was, but something was missing. I didn’t know my soul could miss a place until my aunt asked me to come back to Seaport and help at the gallery.”
“Oh, wow. I wasn't expecting you to say that.”
“No?” she laughed.
“Well, not the Europe part. Do you miss it?”
“Not really. It never felt like home.”
“You must've painted some amazing scenery, though?”
“I mostly drew people I'd encounter on the street corners. There were lots of tourists and if you let them believe you're a struggling European artist, they'll pay.” Eloise shrugged.
“That's tricky, and I'm here for it.”
They both laughed.
“I think under different circumstances I would probably love Europe, and I tried to fall in love with the area, but it was never home.”
“And Seaport is home?”
“Very much so. I just feel . . . connected here.”
“I get it. I think. Although, if I moved away from home, I don't know if I'd be eager to go back.”
“Where do you live?” Eloise scooped the remaining lemonade into her mouth and set her empty cup into her bag. Kiel held his up, gave it a little shake and nodded toward hers. Eloise took his empty cup and set it inside of hers.
Kiel wiped his hands on his shorts and cleared his throat. “I live in Albany . . . with my parents.” He looked embarrassed.
“What's wrong with Albany? Or is it living with your parents that has you embarrassed?”
“Nothing. I don't want you to think . . .” Kiel trailed off. “I'm probably getting ahead of myself.”
“Tell me about your summer plans.” Eloise changed the subject. Whatever unease Kiel felt, she wanted to assuage it.
He inhaled deeply. There was something weighing heavily on him. It was almost as if she should see the burden of whatever he bore pressing down on his shoulders. The question—what troubles you—sat at the tip of her tongue, but it was far too early for her to pry. Being nosy wasn’t something she prided herself on.
“We're here until the end of August, and then we'll go back to New York and my sisters will start school and I'll either listen to my dad complain about my lack of future or I’ll be living somewhere hoping I made the right decision about school.”
