Flirting with Forever

by Jennifer Bernard

  “What was his invention?”

  “It’s…kind of ridiculous. He didn’t like to talk about it.”

  “Didn’t you say he’s dead?”

  Okay then. Uncle Ian sure did cut right to the heart of the matter.

  “He is. But I didn’t even mention it in his obituary, that’s how embarrassed he was about it. I thought it was awesome, but that’s me.”

  Bo put aside his phone and jumped back into the conversation. “A weapon of mass destruction? A biologically engineered virus? A zombie vaccine?”

  Chrissie burst into a surprised laugh. “God, no. He invented spray cheese, more or less. He came up with a way to put processed cheese in a can.”

  Ian laughed first, a bark of amusement, then Bo joined in. She kept going, trying to tell the story through spurts of laughter. “It was…revolutionary for its…time. No one had ever…seen…anything like it.”

  Then she couldn’t say any more because her giggles had taken over.

  And because suddenly she missed her grandfather terribly. “Next time you say spray cheese, you’ll be chopping firewood for the next week,” he’d thundered at her. “The stuff is banned from Yatesville. The concept is banned. The words. All of it.”

  She’d even had to explain it to her friends. “Whatever you do, don’t mention cheese. He’ll start growling.”

  God, Gramps had been a handful. An odd, eccentric genius. But she’d loved him so much, and he’d loved her, in his grouchy way—until he’d banished her from Yatesville too. With no warning. No explanation.

  Her laughter ended on a painful hiccup.

  In the meantime, Shuri had woken up, startled by all the noise. Chrissie used that excuse to focus on her dog instead of their conversation. This was the most she’d talked to anyone since she’d left Arizona and it took some adjusting to.

  Not that she had a problem with her own company. She didn’t. Ever since Gramps had kicked her out, she’d worked hard to rely on herself. Every time she’d let someone in, she’d gotten screwed. She’d learned her lesson. Other people were fun to have around, but you couldn’t count on them.

  “That lighthouse has seen better days.” Ian’s voice interrupted her little mental trip to the past. “It looks like it might fall into the bay.”

  She didn’t like hearing that. Even though she had a love-hate relationship with Yatesville and everything connected to it, she didn’t want it to crumble away. “Don’t underestimate that lighthouse. It’s been standing for at least seventy years, and it’s survived a hellacious number of winter storms.”

  “That must have been soooo cool,” said Bo. “Were there storms when you were living there?”

  “Of course. Blizzards, rainstorms, windstorms, hail storms. Every winter we’d get stranded for a week or so during a snowstorm. I missed a lot of school. When I went to school, that is. Mostly my grandfather homeschooled me, but I took some classes in town too. I remember one time I didn’t want to miss a final so I drove our tractor to school through the snow.”

  “You can drive a tractor?”

  Chrissie laughed at his fascination. “I can drive a lot of things, thanks to my grandfather. You should have seen me putting on mascara while I was driving that thing to school.”

  Bo collapsed back into his seat and groaned. “I knew I was boring, but I didn’t know how boring. It sucks growing up in the suburbs.”

  Chrissie wasn’t sure why a boy with a feather boa and eyeliner considered himself boring; then again, maybe that was the reason for the boa and eyeliner. “When I was growing up, I would have given my right kidney for a normal house in a normal place. The grass is always greener on the other side of the Yatesville border.”

  She noticed that Ian hadn’t said much in the last few minutes. He was probably adding more entries to the ledger of her flaws. Missed lots of school. Wore mascara. Had very eccentric childhood. Conclusion: unsuitable. She wouldn’t be surprised if he chose to drop her off at the next exit before she had too bad an influence on his nephew.

  Someone like Ian, with his comfortable Mercedes and his orderly existence—not a single discarded wrapper to be found on the floorboards, or even a stray crumb—must look at her as just an unredeemable hot mess.

  Not that she could argue with that.

  Four

  “Where should we drop you off?” Ian asked when they crested the last hill outside Lost Harbor.

  It took her a moment to answer. A rush of emotion washed over her at the sight of Misty Bay and the little town nestled in the curve of the long arm of land that formed the boardwalk. The backdrop of majestic snowcapped mountain peaks, jagged against the indigo twilight sky, made Lost Harbor look tiny and insignificant, just a collection of fairy lights clinging to the edge of the wilderness.

  From this distance, she couldn’t make out the old lighthouse, but she could see the rocky promontory where it sat. Her original plan had been to drive straight to Yatesville, but that was before Prince Valiant had broken down. She couldn’t ask them to drive all the way out there.

  Honestly, she was a little relieved that she didn’t have to face the ghosts yet. But what now? She didn’t want to waste money on a hotel, especially when she didn’t know how much her car was going to cost to fix. She could reach out to one of her old friends, but no one knew she was coming. She wasn’t even sure how welcome she would be.

  She sorted through the options. Tristan probably hated her now, for good reason. Maya, Jessica, Toni…which one would be most likely to welcome her back, no questions asked?

  “Do you know the Olde Salt Saloon?” she finally answered. That was where Toni worked, last she knew.

  “I know of it. That’s really where you want to go?”

  Once again, she caught an expression of disdain on Ian’s face. He probably thought she wanted her welcome back to Lost Harbor to be a stiff drink.

  She could probably use one, but that wasn’t the point. But she refused to explain it to this arrogant too-serious man.

  “Yes. It’s been a long trip, you know?”

  “What’s the Olde Salt Saloon?” asked Bo eagerly.

  “Fisherman hangout. It’s not for the young’uns. They’re strict about ID’s.” She didn’t want to be responsible for any underage drinking on top of being a bad influence.

  “How do you know if you haven’t been living here?”

  “Smartass. Because I know. They’ve always been that way. I only managed to sneak in twice the entire time I lived in Lost Harbor. I actually had to wear a disguise, I dressed up as—”

  “We get the point,” Ian interrupted.

  She bit her lip. He was right, she had no business giving Bo any tips about how to sneak into the Olde Salt. “Sorry,” she muttered. “My point is, there are other places in town where you can meet people your own age. You can do much better than the Olde Salt.”

  She decided that she should just stay quiet for the rest of the drive. Even though she really liked Bo, making friends with him wasn’t worth running afoul of his uncle. Ian was attractive enough that she’d found herself flirting with him a bit. Just a kind of test flirt.

  But now she could see that it was a lost cause. He’d just have to be someone whose cheekbones and smolder she admired from afar. Close contact was guaranteed to be a disaster.

  She didn’t want any more disasters. Too often she felt like a rowboat that kept getting tossed onto the rocks, over and over, until it was barely holding itself in one piece. This trip back to Lost Harbor—and especially Yatesville—was going to be tough. She had to keep her shit together.

  Her intention was to say a polite goodbye and a thank you, hand over some cash for her share of the gas, and be done with the Ian and Bo show. But Bo wasn’t having it.

  “You said I could see the lighthouse sometime. What’s your number? I’ll put it in my phone, under ‘New Role Model.’”

  She glanced at Ian, wondering how he was taking that possibility. His expression showed no reaction, which she took
to mean he didn’t care one way or another.

  Bo handed her his phone and she punched in her number. “But you have to promise to find a better role model, unless ‘hot mess’ is your goal in life.” She gave him back his phone. “Good luck with your job search.”

  “Thank you.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t mind Uncle Ian. He’s a lot nicer than he acts.”

  “I heard that,” Ian grumbled.

  “Hey, anyone who rescues me from a truck full of unsavory characters and brings me all the way to my destination is a prince in my book. Thanks to you both.”

  As if she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, Shuri butted Ian’s arm with her head. Surprising Chrissie to no end, Ian actually gave her a pat, and even a scratch behind her ears. Maybe he was nicer than he acted.

  With Shuri on her heels, she climbed out of the car and went around to the trunk to retrieve her suitcase. And then the beige Mercedes glided into the night, disappearing down the long two-lane road that connected the boardwalk to the town center of Lost Harbor.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the Olde Salt. It looked smaller than she remembered, but other than that the old saloon hadn’t changed much. Its old foundation had sunk even more unevenly into the reinforced silt that underlay the boardwalk, giving it a drunken tilt. A few more shingles were missing off the outer walls, probably ripped off by a winter gale. But the warm light glowing through the multipaned windows still promised a welcome to half-frozen fishermen and anyone else brave enough to duck under the too-low doorjamb.

  And hey—this time, she was an actual adult and could simply walk into the Olde Salt without disguising herself as a tax attorney, complete with briefcase and fake glasses.

  Her gaze swept past the tavern to the harbor and the boats docked for the night. In March, the fishing charters didn’t operate, but the commercial fishermen went out whenever conditions allowed. Only a few of the trawlers had lights on at this hour. The familiar smell of the harbor—seaweed and diesel fumes and woodsmoke—struck a nostalgic note.

  Some of her happiest hours had been spent in this harbor with her friends. Playing on the beach, fishing in the lagoon, paddleboarding on hot days. In all the years since, she’d never found that same kind of bond that she used to have here. But after Gramps kicked her out, she hadn’t stayed in touch with everyone. What if they’d all forgotten her? Or worse?

  Time to find out.

  She drew in one more breath, pushed down on the worn wrought-iron door handle and stepped inside. The warm air, spiked with the scent of liquor, stopped her in her tracks. The crisp salty air outside the saloon had immediately brought her back to her childhood, but this smell was all about her teenage years. Sneaking beer with Tristan on the fishing boat where he worked. Making mimosas in the Sweet Harbor Bakery kitchen for Jessica’s sixteenth birthday.

  Old ship’s lanterns swung above the bar countertop. They cast a warm illumination onto the figures occupying the stools. The dim lighting and steamy atmosphere stung her eyes. She blinked the blurriness away.

  And then—there she was. Toni Del Rey. Her former best friend. Toni was very capable of holding a grudge, and she was a badass to boot. Would she be pissed that Chrissie hadn’t kept in touch? Would she kick her right out of the Olde Salt?

  She stepped toward the bar. Shuri stayed so close to her side that Chrissie was afraid she’d step on her paws. She didn’t want to leave poor Shuri outside in the cold in a strange place, so hopefully Toni not only remembered her, but still liked dogs. Her suitcase was another matter. She’d left it under the eaves, where it wouldn’t get snowed on. But she didn’t really even care if someone decided to walk off with it. Good luck dragging it through the slush.

  She found an empty stool and propped one hip against it, not ready yet to commit to sitting down. For a moment she watched Toni pour shots, slide coasters under beer bottles, and take payments. Her hair was in a pixie cut and she was no longer the stick figure she’d been at sixteen, but other than that, she’d recognize her former best friend anywhere. She had the fit body of a martial arts expert and the wry smile of a fellow laugher-at-absurdities.

  Finally, Toni turned her way, a bar napkin in hand. “What can I get—Oh my God. Chrissie?”

  “Hi, Toni.” Incredibly, tears came to her eyes. Toni didn’t look mad at all. Just astonished.

  Toni leaned across the bar and flung open her arms to hug her. Chrissie could hardly believe it. Toni didn’t hate her, even though she’d left without saying goodbye and broken up with her brother and generally just ghosted the whole town.

  After a long embrace, Toni pulled back, though she kept a grip on Chrissie’s upper arms.

  “Where did you come from? Holy moly, a little warning wouldn’t kill you, would it?”

  Again, she yanked her in for a hug. Toni had always been strong, and in fact had dominated in the karate class they’d taken one year. Chrissie couldn’t have freed herself if she’d tried. And she didn’t want to try. It felt so good to be in the presence of someone she’d known most of her life. She’d forgotten that feeling.

  “Sorry. I should have let you know. I’ve been in kind of a daze since Gramps died.”

  Toni’s face sobered. “I’m so sorry about Ohlson. It’s still hard to believe he’s gone, even though I didn’t see him much the last few years.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s like hearing that a mountain just…up and left.”

  “Right? He was such a presence, even when he was…well, absent.”

  “So true.” Chrissie smiled past a stab of sadness. “Anyway, I’m the only person in his will, so I have to figure out what to do with Yatesville, and the lighthouse, and all the thousands of half-finished projects lying around.”

  “He dumped the entire place on you? After banishing you?”

  “Ironic, right? He was probably trying to make my life even more chaotic.”

  Toni smirked. “You were always pretty good at that yourself, Chrissie-bear.”

  And just like that, everything felt normal between her and Toni. They’d slipped right back into their old joking vibe.

  “I can see you still have a way with the verbal jab.”

  “Keeps me employed. These guys like me to beat them up verbally on a regular basis.” She jerked her head toward the lineup of fishermen gabbing to each other at the other end of the bar.

  “Lucky for you, I can’t imagine a better woman for the job.”

  They grinned at each other.

  “Oh my God, Chrissie. I can’t even believe you’re here.”

  Chrissie swallowed down the lump that kept developing in her throat. “So you really aren’t mad that it’s been eleven years?”

  “No. I mean, yes. No free drink for you. But no.” The sympathy in her eyes meant that she understood exactly why Chrissie had stayed away. “Where are you staying? You aren’t going out to the property tonight, are you?”

  “No. I…” She hesitated, not wanting to state the obvious.

  Luckily, Toni got it right away. “You’re staying with me. Don’t argue.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I said don’t argue. That’s arguing.”

  “It’s not arguing, it’s…” But she was too exhausted by the long trip to continue. “Thank you. My car broke down in the mountains. I have to call a tow truck.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Toni shouted down the row of fishermen to a burly fellow in a leather coat. “Yo Stanley. You got a tow truck anywhere near…” She cocked her head at Chrissie.

  “Mile eighty-five.”

  “Mile eighty-five in the pass?”

  “I can send someone that way.” He pulled out his phone, while Toni slid a shot of something across the bar toward him.

  “On the house,” she said, then turned back to Chrissie. “There. I called a tow truck for you.”

  Tears blurred Chrissie’s eyes again. “You’re the best, Toni. I don’t deserve you. I left and—”

  “Stop it. You’d do the same
for me. You have done the same for me. Remember when Dougie Kolnikov stranded me out at Wolf Pack Hill? You came and got me in Ohlson’s experimental electric rig and got him all pissed off.”

  Chrissie laughed. She’d forgotten all about that. “I didn’t even have a learner’s permit. I was on weeding duty for two weeks after that.”

  “Now who’s this good boy?” Toni hoisted herself onto her elbows to peer over the edge of the bar at Shuri.

  “Girl. Shuri, meet Antonia Del Rey. Toni, meet Shuri.”

  Shuri’s ears perked forward in her version of a greeting.

  “Nice to see your furry face, Shuri,” Toni said. “You’ll fit right in around here.”

  Chrissie snorted as Toni gestured at the array of beards lined up on the stools. “It’s so good to see you, Toni. I can’t wait to catch up. But…”

  “You’re tired and you’re wondering where your bed is.” Toni dug in her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “There’s a little boardwalk cabin that goes with this place. It’s right behind the saloon. You’ll recognize it by the vintage Coca-Cola sign propped on the porch. The couch pulls out into a bed, and there are sheets in the bathroom closet. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I’ll be quiet when I come in.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m so tired I could sleep through a tsunami alarm.”

  “All right. I’ll see you in the morning then. I’ll grab some pastries from Sweet Harbor Bakery for breakfast.”

  Chrissie couldn’t stop her smile. “Is Jessica still there?”

  “Of course. They’re doing a major renovation so they’re closed, but Jess still makes breakfast-pastries-to-go for a select few Sweet Harbor superfans. She’s such a softie. Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you. I hope…” She eyed Chrissie warily. “I hope that’s okay. Were you planning to slide into town and slide right out again?”