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“Oh my god. I’m going to be late!”
Birdie smirks and follows her son out of my room. “Later!”
After a frantic minute spent grabbing all the things I need, I’m finally ready. I burst out of my tiny bedroom with a breakfast bar wedged between my teeth. It’s my first day of working with Cole and I’m already late.
I can only imagine the disappointment and anger in his eyes. I swallow and then fling myself down the stairs and into the front hall.
“Stop right there!”
I freeze, then turn to see my grandfather frowning down at me from a stepladder. He wears ratty canvas pants and a stained T-shirt. His ‘workin’ clothes,’ he calls them.
“Hey, Grandpa.” I slink back to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He steps down and embraces me before starting his interrogation.
My grandad eyes me up and down. “Put on a sweater and a coat today, baby girl. And are you sure you want to wear those high-heeled death traps?”
He nods at my feet and I give him the trace of a smile.
“I’m sure. But I will definitely take your advice about bundling up. Okay?”
Giving him another quick hug, I walk to the hallway closet. Putting on a white, woolly duster, and my heavy gray-and-white checked coat, I turn to my grandfather.
“Warm enough?”
He grunts. “Take a scarf, baby.”
I grab a gray scarf and throw it on as I step out the front door. “Bye!”
I’m halfway to my mom’s car by the time I notice Grandad standing in the doorway, his whiskey-colored eyes watchful. I wave and get into the car.
He’s always so worried about me. It’s a little stifling. Between Grandad, my sister Birdie, and my nephew Dexter, my home is never still and certainly not quiet. Just like this closely packed South Shore neighborhood, it’s always teeming with life. I wave to several neighbors who pass by me on their way to catch the 7:45 bus into the Cape.
After several minutes spent trying to get the engine to turn over, I finally manage to get the car going.
“Yes!” I cheer, pulling the car out and heading toward downtown South Shore.
I drive through a few neighborhoods. Some are full of dilapidated houses; some are full of dated but well-kept properties like Grandad’s house.
I turn into downtown, which is more like an area full of small businesses. I pass restaurants, a hair salon, and a bank. A couple of old, two-story buildings are at the far end. These house the library, the town hall, and the post office.
I turn the corner and the street becomes a pier. I hurriedly park between the bookstore and the SaltLife Inn, then climb out.
A lone figure stands at the far end of the pier, away from the businesses. Without even seeing his face, I know it’s Cole. The way he stands – hands shoved in the pockets of his black overcoat, looking out at the gray sky overlooking the dark gray sea – the image of him projected against the sky is very stark and makes me feel lonely.
Is Cole lonely? I wonder.
I call out to him and he whirls, his jaw set. When I click-clack my way over to him, his lip curls.
“You’re late!”
I pull a face. “I got caught up.”
Cole surprises me by grabbing me by the hand and pulling me close to his body. Not touching, but right at the edge of it.
“Your time is not more valuable than mine, I assure you.” Under the weight of his full, direct glare, I feel like a cell under a microscope. His fingers press into my wrist. “You can’t be late again, Savannah.”
I blink, gulp, and nod. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not.” He looks as though he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He just pushes me away with a gentle shove. “You are supposed to be showing me around this…area.”
