“Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “Come with us. You can relax at the picnic tables and talk to us while we work.”
Their offer was actually tempting. I was looking at a night alone in a house that, after only two days, didn’t feel quite like home. But after spending all day in the sun lugging the fuel hose and pulling boats to the dock, every muscle in my body ached. Even my butt was sore from sitting on the bicycle seat. I couldn’t imagine getting up from the patio chair, let alone showering and spending the next five hours sitting on a picnic table bench.
Still, I missed them. And if visiting them at work meant I could at least spend a little time catching up, then it was worth it.
“How about if I come by later?” I offered. “I need to shower and stuff, but I can ride my bike over.”
“Okay, but don’t forget.” Lucy stood up and Josie joined her. “Or fall asleep.”
“I won’t,” I promised, closing my eyes and letting my body sink into the chair.
I was asleep before I even heard them walk away.
Long-Distance Relationship Tip #18:
Pining away for your soulmate may be cute in movies,
but in real life it makes the people around you
just want to give you a good slap.
I probably would have slept until morning if the buzzing of my phone on the chair arm hadn’t woken me.
“So how was your first day?” the voice asked, and it took me a moment to get my bearings straight and remember where I was.
“It was okay.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes, which stung from the salt on my fingers and nine hours of ultraviolet rays reflecting off the water into my corneas. I really had to find a hat. “It’s a job.”
“I thought you’d call when you were done, maybe catch the ferry over.” Luke’s voice sounded so hopeful I glanced at my phone screen to check the time.
When I’d told Luke that I talked myself into a job at the marina, his first reaction was, “Really?” His really was part disbelief that anyone would hire me to do something I knew nothing about, part surprise that I found a job so quickly, and part letdown. If I had to assign a ratio, I’d say it was 40/50/10. I understood the disbelief and surprise. I mean, I could hardly believe George was willing to even listen to me recite the handful of reasons he should hire someone who didn’t know the difference between a mainsail and a garage sale.
It was the ten percent—the inflection in his voice that had punctuated the word with a big question mark—that I didn’t get. Sure, Luke was stuck on crutches and relegated to tagging along with Charlie if he wanted to go anywhere, but every day that went by without a job made me one day closer to having to go home. I thought at least Luke would be glad I’d be making money so I could actually afford to visit him when I wasn’t working, but instead, it was like I’d gone and gotten a job so quickly on purpose instead of for a purpose.
“I promised Lucy and Josie I’d visit them at work. Besides, it’s kinda late to be heading over there. I haven’t even showered from work yet,” I added, hoping he’d take pity on me without having to actually experience the pungency of the odors that seemed to have settled into my pores.
Luke was quiet. “So no fireworks?”
“You could come here,” I suggested, but even as I did, I knew it would never happen. By the time Luke found a ride to the ferry and hobbled his way over, it would practically be time for him to go back.
“Wish I could, but you know I can’t.”
Now we were both quiet, and I couldn’t help but think it was the beginning of many quiet moments between us as we started to grasp the reality of our summer situations—of being separated by all the reasons we couldn’t make it work out even if, according to a map, we seemed so close and it appeared so easy.
• • •
“You made it!” Josie yelled when she spotted me walking toward her window at the Scoop Shack.
The kids and parents waiting in line turned to see who she was shouting to over their heads. I waved to Josie and smiled apologetically to the sweaty parents who looked at me like I was single-handedly responsible for the whining kids tugging on their arms while begging for more whipped cream.
Josie waved back, a large vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles in her hand, and then turned her attention to a little boy who was jumping up and down trying to give Josie his order. I took my place at the end of the line.
There were six take-out windows lined up across the front of what, literally, looked like a barn. Mr. Holden had refurbished the inside of the building, but kept the outside in its original condition, which included rough red wood shingles to match the worn red picnic tables on the grassy patch between the barn and the gravel parking lot.
The place was packed, with lines at least eight deep at every window. I didn’t see Lucy.
“I swear, it’s freaking crazy tonight!” Josie told me when I finally made it to the front of the line after ten minutes. Her Scoop Shack T-shirt was splattered with hot fudge. “I cannot wait to get out of here. You’re going to stay until we close, right?”
“Sure,” I answered, even though all I really wanted to do was fall into bed and close my eyes. Just standing there talking to her was taking every ounce of energy I could manage.
“Cool. Alyssa—you’ll meet her, she’s the girl who’s two windows down.” Josie leaned out her window and pointed. “She told us that a bunch of people are getting together afterwards at the beach. You’re coming.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are.” Josie frowned at me and I looked away, for the first time noticing Lucy in the back of the barn carrying a tub of maraschino cherries. “She’s got FFT duty—fruit, fudge, and toppings,” Josie explained.
“I don’t know about the beach. I have to be at the marina at seven tomorrow.” Just saying the time made me yawn. “Besides, I have my bike.”
“You’re coming,” Josie repeated, and then picked up a pencil and leaned toward me, resting on her elbows. “So what do you want? And please don’t say a shake, because I seriously have made at least fifty tonight and I just might slit my wrists with a blender blade if I have to make one more.”
I took pity upon Josie and ordered a cup of soft serve instead.
There was no way she’d let me get out of going to the beach with them after work. I kind of felt terrible that I was even thinking of excuses, even though getting up at six a.m. to bike two miles seemed like a pretty valid excuse to me. Josie and Lucy could stay out as late as they wanted, within reason (the Holdens had decided we were old enough to use our own good judgement when it came to a curfew, but when they’d strolled in at two a.m., Mr. Holden let them know that good judgement meant no later than one thirty). I, on the other hand, would be wearing a plastic helmet strapped to my head and dodging cars before they even rolled over and realized they could sleep another six hours.
“Here you go, chocolate soft serve in a cup, no toppings.” Josie handed me my order. “Kinda boring, aren’t you?”
For a minute, I thought she knew I was trying to think of ways to get out of going to the beach, and then I realized she was referring to my order.
“There’s nothing wrong with sticking to what you love,” I told her, reaching for my cup and spoon.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying something new, either. Next time, at least taste the cherry dip or cookie dough pieces. Live a little!” She laughed at me.
I took my ice cream, which Josie didn’t make me pay for, and went to sit down at one of the picnic tables.
I quickly discovered that an ice cream stand on July Fourth was the ultimate people-watching opportunity. I determined that there were three distinct groups of ice cream goers: kids having meltdowns, parents trying to stop the whining and tears, and people like me, who ate our ice cream thankful that we weren’t either one of them.
“Hey, Emily!” I heard my name and looked over at the Shack, expecting to find Lucy or Josie trying to get my attention. But Josie was still helping customers and Lucy wasn
’t at any of the windows.
“Emily!” I heard again, and this time realized the voice was calling my name from the parking lot.
I spotted Nolan and another guy walking toward me, but before they reached my table, his friend peeled away and headed toward the walk-up windows.
Nolan pointed to my empty ice cream cup. “Celebrating making it through your first day at the marina?”
“Not exactly. My friends are working tonight.” I pointed to Josie, who happened to look up at that exact moment and mouthed get me out of here before rolling her eyes at a set of twins having tantrums on the ground below her window. “What about you?”
“My buddy’s girlfriend works here, so he wanted to come by and see her.” I noticed that Nolan’s friend was standing at the spot two windows down from Josie, where Alyssa was stationed. “Besides, I’m always up for ice cream, especially when he’s buying.”
I held up my empty cup. “Free.”
“Must be nice to have friends in the right places,” Nolan joked.
“It is, and if they’re lucky, I’ll return the favor with a free bag of chum.”
Nolan laughed. “Wow, you’re a really good friend.”
“The best,” I agreed. “They’re about to close, so if you want your ice cream, you better get in line.”
“Good call. See you tomorrow.”
I laid back on the picnic table bench and covered my eyes with my arm. “Bright and early,” I reminded him.
After the Shack closed the walk-up windows, and Josie and Lucy finished cleaning up for the night, they found me sitting at the picnic table waiting for them. Lucy sat down on the bench beside me and started counting a handful of dollar bills she’d pulled from her pocket.
“Tips,” she told me, and then tugged on her braid, scraping her nails through the strands as she tried to remove the sticky goo still clinging to the ends. “I smell like a jar of caramel sauce exploded in my hair and you’re out here meeting guys after one day.”
“I’m not meeting guys,” I told them.
Lucy sniffed the tail of her braid and made a face. “I thought I saw you talking to yacht club Nolan.”
“It’s a marina,” I reminded them. Why did they think I was living large when my job actually sucked?
“We’ll meet you there?” Alyssa called out to us as she walked toward a car with her boyfriend and Nolan.
“Yep!” Josie called back.
I felt a vibration in my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the phone, sliding it out to read the screen. Miss you. Then another vibration: Can you talk?
“You know, I’m really tired and I have to get up insanely early tomorrow.” Almost as if on cue, I yawned again. Thinking about your alarm going off at six a.m. will do that to you, I guess.
“No way.” Josie looked at the phone in my hand. “You’re ditching us for the night?”
“I’m not ditching you. I’ll go next time. Promise.”
“You just got here and we have a lot of time to make up for,” Lucy tried. “Besides, it’s dark. You can’t ride your bike home.”
“It has a blinking reflector, and I’ll walk beside it.”
Lucy and Josie exchanged a glance. I knew what they were thinking. It was the same thing I was thinking—our first chance to go out and have fun together, and I was choosing a bed, and a vibrating phone, over them.
“Just go. I’ll be fine,” I assured Lucy, making this about the dangers of riding a bike in the dark instead of the dangers of choosing a boyfriend who was a boat ride away over friends who were standing right in front of me.
“You guys coming?” Alyssa yelled at us. Nolan stopped walking and watched, waiting for our answer.
My phone vibrated again, like a buzzer that sounds when a game show contestant picks the wrong answer.
“I’ll text you when I get home so you know I’m not lying dead on the side of the road somewhere,” I told them, and then, in an attempt to get them to laugh, added, “And if I am lying on the side of the road, you guys can just pick me up on your way home. But don’t hurry, I need the sleep.”
Lucy almost laughed, but Josie barely cracked a smile.
“We’re coming,” Josie yelled to Alyssa, and then started walking toward her car.
I watched as Alyssa grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and led him in the opposite direction. Nolan paused for a second, as if he was going to say something, but he just waved and turned away.
“Be careful,” Lucy reminded me, and then followed Josie.
I stood in the parking lot and watched them until the taillights of Josie’s car moved across the gravel and disappeared down the road.
Once they were out of sight, I pressed the first name on my favorites list.
“Hello.” Luke’s voice was warm and smooth, like the hot fudge I’d seen poured over sundaes.
“Hi.” I couldn’t help smiling into the darkness. “What’s going on?”
“Just missing you,” he answered. “What about you?”
“Heading home from visiting Lucy and Josie at the Shack. Keep me company?”
“I think I can manage that,” he told me, and I took the handlebars of my bike in each of my hands and started pushing it home.
I had the phone propped between my ear and shoulder, which wasn’t exactly comfortable and it sure wasn’t optimal if I was going to make it home as fast as possible. Walking a bike home in flip-flops also wasn’t ideal—I’d collected enough dirt and sand between my toes to provide the benefits of exfoliation for at least the next year.
Between the crickets clicking in the tall grass growing beside the road, the gulping of frogs in the woods, the occasional whooshing of cars passing me, and a phone that bounced as I guided the bike’s tires over the rocky dirt, I could only catch about every third word out of Luke’s mouth. What I did hear made the long, dark walk a lot better than if I’d been by myself.
“Shit!” I shrieked as a gust of dusty air and gravel kicked up beside me, each tiny edge flying through the air and slicing into my bare legs like shrapnel.
“What?”
I navigated my bike onto the grassy shoulder. “A freaking car just whizzed by.”
“I should let you go. The last thing we need is you ending up on crutches, too.”
Luke was right. But crutches weren’t the last thing I needed—the last thing I really needed was to have to call my mom and tell her I was in the emergency room because, in addition to being fired from my job at the Shack, I was walking down a deserted road in the dark by myself in a strange town where nobody would report my missing body until the morning, when they found seagulls pecking my eyes out. Not that I even knew if seagulls would do that, but given my luck since arriving on the Cape, it seemed like a fitting end to my time here.
Still, I pushed my bike along the uneven patches of dirt and grass without saying good-bye.
The car’s taillights grew dimmer in the distance, and the road fell dark again. I was probably less than a quarter mile from the Holdens’ and, in the strobe of moonlight overhead, I could see the trees thinning out as they started to give way to the beach.
A stone wall rose up beside me—a jagged border dividing the brittle, dry grass on the shoulder of the road from the long, swaying beach grass on the other side. I could see the white light of the moon reflecting off the rolling surface of the water separating Cape Cod from Martha’s Vineyard.
The sound of water slapping against sand grew louder and, if the decibels of the noise around me were any indication, I was in the middle of prime cricket country. I remembered once reading that only male crickets chirp, and they had different songs for different purposes. It was their way of attracting females. Apparently there was a thriving cricket pickup scene in Falmouth.
“Emily?” Luke finally asked. “You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re awfully quiet. Is everything okay?”
“I was just thinking about crickets. I used to like listening to them when I was
little. I imagined all these crickets talking to each other outside, making plans for what they’d do all night while I slept. Now they’re just annoying.”
Luke laughed at me. “Is that all? Your growing intolerance for crickets?”
“Maybe it’s more.” I swallowed and realized for the first time how all I’d wanted to do was be with Luke and Josie and Lucy, and instead I was alone. “I miss you.”
“Hey, can you stop walking for a minute?”
I laid my bike against the stone wall.
“Where are you?” Luke asked. “Anywhere near the beach?”
“Yeah, I’m almost to Josie’s house.”
“Okay. Turn and face the water.”
I turned to my right. “Now what?”
“Look over toward the island.”
“It’s dark. I can’t see that far.”
“I know, just wait a minute. Keep looking.”
At that moment, a burst of fireworks lit up the sky over the island, pink and blue and yellow and green streaks scattering across the velvety darkness like a dandelion in the wind.
“See that?” he asked. “That’s where I am.”
“Wow, they’re gorgeous,” I breathed, as another explosion of color lit up the horizon.
It was quiet where I sat, but I could hear the pops and sizzles of fireworks coming from Luke’s end of the phone. If I closed my eyes, it was almost like I was right there beside him.
“Pretty cool, huh? Why don’t you take a seat and watch them with me?”
I kicked off my flip-flops and walked along the wall until I found a level spot to crawl over. I wiped the sand and tiny pieces of splintered shell from the wall before sitting down and letting my bare feet dangle over the edge as I faced Vineyard Sound.
“Okay, I’m sitting,” I told him.
“You can’t be here, and I can’t be there,” Luke said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t watch the fireworks together.”