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I brush sand from my fingers and shake her grandad's hand.
“Cole Bennett,” I say by way of introduction. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir. Savannah tells me some wild stories about growing up in your house.”
“Does she now?” He casts an eye over Sav, who is approximately the color of a beet. “Call me Karl.”
I grin. “Karl, have you got any wisdom for me when it comes to shucking oysters?”
Her grandad lights up like I just told him that Santa is about to visit.
“You asked the right old man, Cole. Let me show you my method.”
“Oh god.” Sav and Birdie both groan.
“Save yourself!” Birdie cries, pretending to be in mock-agony. “Grandad had a method for everything. The best way to paint a house. The fastest way to drive to the bank. The way to carve a turkey that saves the most meat.”
“Don’t listen to my granddaughters. No one complains about my methods when they get to eat that final turkey sandwich because I carved the turkey properly.”
I raise my brows. “Oh, now I’m even more curious. Let’s go.”
Learning how to shuck oysters in just the right way turns out to be time-consuming. Karl is witty with a dry sense of humor. I find him hilarious. But he is also very particular about everything.
“Ya see, ya grip with the glove, and pry with your knife like so.” He pops the shell off the oyster as effortlessly as a button off a blouse. He shucks three more in record time, and grins at my shocked expression. “You’ll get it.”
But I’m lacking the lifetime spent at sea. So while I do improve by using his suggestions, I’m definitely not going to be as quick a shucker as Karl.
I’m used to being the alpha dog in every transaction. But I find myself laughing at my own amateur efforts, and no one is more surprised about my good attitude than me. I keep waiting for that familiar frustration that comes when I am not the best. But it never does. I would wonder what that’s all about, except, when I catch Savannah’s eye, and find her smiling at me, I think I already know.
Soon the side dishes are warming on the sides of the fire pit, and the oysters are grilling on the grate I brought just for this purpose.
Sav adds butter and Parmesan to each one. The air fills with the scent of sizzling seafood. Birdie and Karl begin playing spades. The boys race around, fighting with two pieces of driftwood that Dexter anointed as swords.
“This is a great day.” Sav watches Dexter and Charlie parry with a grin. “It’s almost the perfect day.”
“Almost?” I put my hands to my heart, pretending her words hurt me. “Alas, fair maiden.”
She swats me on the arm. “Stop. You know what I mean.”
“What is it missing?” I ask. “Not oysters. We have those covered.”
Sav shrugs. “There could be more people here. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad that this little group is eating together. But what about Lucy? And your parents? And the other Bennetts? River and Rex and Eden? Plus Pearl and her family…?”
“You mean our landlady, Mrs. Brown?” I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure she hates us.”
“Uh… excuse you! Speak for yourself!”
“I think I am.”
“You’re talking crazy.” She giggles. “Mrs. Glory is a force to be reckoned with. But she loves me. She’s just calling it like she sees it.”
“Mrs. Brown is a pain in my ass. She’s an agent of bureaucracy.” I grab chargrilled oysters with a pair of tongs and start stacking them on a platter.
“She’s just making you check every box. I know that you fancy people from the Cape may not be used to it, but that’s how everyone else gets things done right in the real world.”
I shake my tongs at Sav.
“I’m really starting to think that you have a hang up about rich people from the Cape. I’m not rich. Not really.”
“Are you serious?”
