She returned down Main Street; her mind turning back time. There was an open spot by one of the meters directly across from the bar. No more excuses. Easing in to park, she took a deep breath as she cut the engine and climbed out of the car.
Slowly walking up the boardwalk to the main entrance, she clutched the keys nervously in her fist as her eyes traveled over the outdoor patio, easily accessible to anyone pulling their boat up to the open slips at the public landing. Lit with strings of illuminated brass ship lanterns, hurricane lamps warmed the small tables. Inside, the bar was filling with the beginnings of the local Friday evening after-work crowd, mixed with the first-of-the-weekend vacationers. The din of voices was punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter, a festive mood permeating the air.
Easing through the front door, her eyes scanned the room, finally spotting him out on the floor of the main bar area. Her heart did yet another little unexpected jump, like it was vying for attention, reminding her it was still in there.
For a moment, Rory was content to just observe from afar as he entertained a large group seated at a table. His hands were in motion as he spoke, sending everyone into ripples of laughter, and she couldn’t help but smile.
It was then that he glanced in her direction.
Their gazes caught and held. Rory froze, afraid to move, nearly afraid to breathe. And, as he stared at her through the crowd, his expression a complete unreadable blank, she feared this had been a terrible, horrible mistake.
Then, finally, that familiar grin ignited a spark in his lively blue eyes, the warmth of it spreading until it practically lit up the entire room. She relaxed in relief, taking a tentative step towards him.
Matt didn’t react with the same hesitation at all. Crossing the bar in several wide strides, the next thing she knew she was being swung up and around in his strong arms, his hug lifting her right off the floor—not that her feet would have even felt the ground either way.
“Rory! I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”
He placed her down, releasing her, and that’s when it hit her.
She had no idea what she doing here. She didn’t know what she had been thinking to make such a drastic, impetuous decision. She didn’t know what she was supposed to even say to him. And what made her think that anything she did say could actually make him change his mind—change his life? Who was she to even assume he would still do anything for her?
She lifted her arms helplessly, still beaming from his greeting.
“Just, um, home for the long weekend.”
“Really?” He seemed pleased to hear this, and took a step further back to let his eyes drift over her. “So, New York looks good on you.”
“You look good, too,” she said.
And he did. He’d probably never looked better.
Matt brushed the compliment off without even missing a beat. “Eh, yeah, I know.”
She laughed with a roll of her eyes, and gave his arm a playful little shove, anything just to touch him again.
“You’re such a jerk.”
He lowered his voice with a tilt of his head. “But still a loveable one, right?”
Rory self-consciously smoothed her hair behind her ear. “So, business seems good.” She glanced around with a smile of deliberate avoidance.
“Yep. Can’t complain.” He nodded briefly, glancing around as well. He quickly returned his attention to her. “And how is everything with you?”
“Can’t complain.”
In turning back to face him, Rory miscalculated her cool and made the mistake of tumbling directly into the deep blue ocean of his gaze. Suddenly it was as if she were flailing about, desperately gasping for air.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he repeated, and this time his voice softened with a long-lost intimacy, almost as if he could see right through her.
And for a moment, she almost wished he could. The funny thing was he was just about the only person in the world who might understand.
“Matt, I, ah—I just wanted to say…” She stumbled and had to pause, her smile tightening along with her throat. “…To say congratulations. I’ve been meaning to call or, you know, get in touch. But I’m so happy for you.”
His own smile shifted, quickly rearranging itself. “Thank you,” he replied, much quieter than before.
“I mean, marriage—wow,” she finished lamely.
“Yeah, it’s, ah—it’s that,” he agreed.
They both stood there another moment, trapped inside a slightly awkward silence, until he finally broke it.
“So, um,” he said, ducking his head, “I take it this means you did get your invitation?”
She nodded, averting her eyes slightly. “Sorry, I know I didn’t get my response back yet, but I’ve been so busy with work and—”
“It’s okay,” he cut in gently. “I just hope you’ll be there.”
She met his gaze again, wondering how she could do that. How could she ever be there to watch him marry someone else? Before she was forced into some painful reply, a nervous-looking member of the wait staff came looking for him. Apparently his assistance was needed with a large and loud party out on the patio that had decided, after the fact, they wanted separate tabs.
He gave her a brief, apologetic smile. “Just give me one minute?”
Rory quickly shook her head. She feared Amanda might be lurking about, and the thought of having to meet and make small talk with the person who was about to end up with everything she’d ever wanted or loved was just too much to bear. “No, really, I should let you get back to work. We can talk later.”
Matt stopped short. “But when?”
She was mildly startled by the unexpected intensity in his question, especially when doing her best to escape.
“Matt, um, should I void this one or what?” The waiter interrupted, still holding the check, customers still waiting outside.
He ran his hand over his short dark hair in distraction. “Rory, if you could just hold on.”
His attention, however, was almost immediately pulled away in yet another direction. A bartender was now searching for a missing case of wine. While he tried to deal with all the issues at hand, she glanced around the bar one last time before returning her gaze to him with a sad smile.
“I should let you go.”
“No, really, just give me one sec—”
But when he turned back, she was already gone.
***
“Matt?”
Trudging up the dock, he slowed to a stop. Golden sunlight reflected off blue waves with near blinding rays, so for a brief moment he didn’t know whether to trust his own eyes.
Then her tentative, hopeful smile tugged gently at his heart, reeling him in, and he realized this wasn’t just some trick of the light.
“Rory…what are you doing here?”
“My internship ended yesterday,” she explained, brushing the windswept hair from her eyes. “And classes don’t start for another few weeks. I figured I’d spend the rest of my summer at home.”
He nodded slowly, taking it all in.
“I was going to call,” she continued. “But I thought I might find you down here.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he started towards her.
“I was thinking maybe, if you’re not busy, we could do something. Go see a movie tonight, or grab a bite to eat?”
Holding her gaze, step by step, he gradually closed the distance between them.
“Maybe lobster rolls at that place by the beach?” Something trembled through her voice, but she didn’t look away as he approached. “It doesn’t really feel like summer without…”
He paused only when standing directly before her, gazing down into those beautiful eyes.
“Without?”
Her lips parted, but any attempt at a response was lost, swept up in his arms, swallowed inside his kiss. It went on and on, her body molding to his as they were buffeted by the wind, the wood dock swaying ju
st slightly beneath their feet.
When they finally broke apart, she smiled against his lips.
“Did you miss me?”
“Only when I breathed in,” he murmured, halfway into another kiss. “Breathing out, not so much.”
FOUR
Dumping her bag on the bed, Rory paused to glance out the bedroom window. A dusky blue twilight blanketed the beach, and it occurred to her for the first time since driving into town that she hadn’t exactly packed for a weekend by the shore.
The evening breeze ruffled the sailcloth curtains, carrying the voices from the deck, punctuated every so often by the deep boom of Danny’s laugh. The enticing aromas from the marinated steak tips and salmon on the grill caused her stomach to rumble a little. She couldn’t remember if she’d had anything other than coffee today.
After rushing out on Matt, overwhelmed by the onslaught of feeling and emotion she had kept buried for so long, Rory had to pull the car over to the side of the road until she gained enough composure to continue the two miles to her mother’s house.
She pictured it all so differently in her mind, like the romantic ending scene of some really great old movie. The actuality of her moment of truth was unexpected, even for someone who prided herself on being pragmatic. Rory had to face reality. She might not be able to do this. (Whether or not she actually should do this, however, was the kind of reality she chose to ignore for the moment.)
She stayed at her house long enough to help her mother make the last few beds, promising she would be back in the morning to say hello to everyone.
Scrolling through the first dozen new messages on her phone, all work related, Rory tried to prioritize the order of her expected replies. But her attention drifted, her eyes gradually traveling the room to finally land on the framed photographs on the pine dresser. In one, Kevin and Brian Murphy and Matt shared wide grins and beers on the deck of his boat. Right next to that was a photo of Senior Prom, all of them lined up on the O’Shea’s wide front lawn.
She moved over to pick it up, this small snapshot of the past. Lindsay and Bobby were typically polished and dutifully posed, while Jill and Kevin were cracking up together in the center, nearly doubled over in their laughter, his shirt and tie the exact same lavender as the tulle of her gown. Her boyfriend had broken up with her just two weeks before prom, and Kevin stepped in to save the day with his typical sweet chivalry.
Then there was Matt, looking rather dapper in his tux as well, built a bit taller and broader than the other boys. His hand was gently curved around her waist and she was turned slightly towards him, chin tilted up with a smile, the hues of the sunset warming her face. With head bowed, just the very tip of his nose buried in her hair, he was whispering something in her ear.
There was a soft knock on the bedroom door. Rory quickly placed the photo down and spun around. Kevin poked his head in, holding out his phone.
“Hey, it’s Jill. She wants to say hi.”
She flashed a brief, almost guilty smile.
“Thanks.”
Hesitating, she waited until he turned to leave before she lifted it to her ear, her smile twisting into a slight grimace.
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“Oh, I’m just taking a quick break from all the fun and festivities with Trevor’s parents, resorting to the excuse that I needed to lay down after it became apparent just how many times two human beings can actually use the term ‘Big Apple’ with absolutely no irony at all, and I thought I’d give you a quick call to ask—” Jill’s voice suddenly jumped about ten decibels “—what the HELL you think you’re doing?”
Rory cringed. “I’m simply enjoying Memorial Day weekend at home.”
“R—really?” Jill was starting to stammer in that way she did when she was overly excited or flustered. “So what happened to the Memorial Day weekend you were supposed to be enjoying not at home—very, very far away from home and all its inhabitants?”
“I had a change of plans.”
“I have to say, after our phone conversation last week? You’re making me very nervous here.”
“Relax, calm down. This is not the time for you to be getting worked up,” Rory said carefully, stealing a furtive glance at the door. “And it’s not what you think. I decided I just really needed to get away for a while.”
“A while?” Jill didn’t sound comforted at all. “A minute ago you said weekend, and now you’re saying a while.”
Rory didn’t even realize she’d made the distinction. And then there was that question again.
“What are you really doing there, Rory?”
“I had some vacation time coming to me. I’ll lose it if I don’t use it.” It was the best she could come up with at the moment.
“And what about Jonathan?”
She was instantly on the defensive. “What about him?”
“Rory…” Jill whined.
“Okay, so maybe I have been thinking that he and I—well, that maybe we’ve run our course.” She half-surprised herself with this statement, yet as soon as it left her lips it felt like fact. “I mean, it’s not like there’s some big future waiting for us. So maybe there’s no reason to prolong the inevitable.”
“And what’s going on there?” Jill persisted. “Kevin said you’re staying with them at the beach house. Talk to me. Have you seen Matt?”
“Maybe.”
“Rory!”
“Okay, you really want to know?” she finally burst out. “I’ll tell you! There’s this little park in the city near my apartment, right? And sometimes, on Sunday mornings if it’s nice out, I’ll take a book and grab a coffee and go sit there and read a while,” she continued, even though she knew she was veering dangerously close to some psychotic rambling. “And a lot of the time this elderly Russian woman will be there, too, and we’ll share the same bench, and even though I obviously don’t speak a word of Russian, she seems so grateful for company that I just humor her and nod along if she talks to me.”
She had to pause to take a breath, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Then one day, she was there with a woman who turned out to be her daughter. And she starts talking, per usual, but the daughter immediately sees that I don’t understand. So she smiles and apologizes, explaining that her mother loves to tell stories about her father—her husband who died very young, after they were only married a few years. See? She obviously doesn’t want to let his memory go, so she tells all these stories about him and their love and their life together, except the thing is that most people she meets probably don’t even speak a word of her language! Nobody ever really hears her. They don’t even know what she is saying!”
“A feeling I am becoming increasingly familiar with,” Jill replied.
“I don’t want to end up like that!”
“Well, there’s a guy in my neighborhood that lives in a cardboard box and wears a tinfoil hat and not only talks to himself, but answers himself, too. I don’t want to end up like that, either.”
Rory shook her head in frustration, her voice rising. “I just don’t want to find myself all alone on some park bench someday reminiscing about a long lost love to some strangers who could never even begin to understand what it meant, okay? It’s too sad!”
“That is not going to be you, and you know that. Besides, I will always be there to sit on that bench with you.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said, suddenly drained of all pent-up energy and emotion as her sardonic smile slipped back into place. Jill had that unique ability to make her feel appropriately foolish.
“Oh, hell.” Her voice suddenly dropped to a strained whisper. “I think I hear someone coming. I’m supposed to be napping! I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right.”
“And Rory?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t make me have to hear about some nasty catfight with her at a cocktail party where you both fall into a pool or something, okay? Bye!”
Rory hung up the phon
e and brought her gaze back to the framed photo on the dresser.
It was always a struggle for her to recall the pass code to her office gym; she retained maybe five phrases from four years of high school Spanish and was typically a week or so late in wishing anyone a happy birthday.
So why was it so easy to remember exactly what words he was saying to her, all those years ago, in a single, brief moment in time?
***
She padded into the kitchen in a pair of rumpled boxers and a fitted t-shirt, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as she covered a yawn. Through the glass doors out to the deck she could see the sun had burned off all the early morning haze. Its reflection sparkled off the crystal blue water, waves rolling in to lap at the peaceful shore. In only a couple of hours, people would be swarming in like ants to cover every available patch of sand with blankets and chairs and brightly-colored striped umbrellas.
Filling a ceramic mug with coffee, she took a seat at the kitchen table. She needed to bathe her brain cells in a little caffeine before going over to see the relatives.
Along with the local daily newspaper, there was a bright pink cardboard box sitting in the middle of the table that hadn’t been there when she went to bed. Rory opened the cover to peek in at the assortment of fresh muffins, crullers and coffeecakes. Danny must have gone out that morning, because there was no way Kevin was up yet.
The two of them had sat up on the deck long after the others had gone to bed, drinking cold beers as the warm breezes blew in over the soft rush of waves, their laughter floating up into the night sky as they joked and reminisced—lingering in amazement over the fact Jill Feeney was about to become somebody’s mother and staying mercifully clear of the fact Matt O’Shea was about to become somebody’s husband.
The remnants of the late night still clouded her brain, making her thought processes a little foggy. So, as she watched the truck pull into the driveway outside, for a moment she wasn’t really sure if she was seeing things.
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