The Art of Appreciation

by Markus, Autumn

  “Assy jet fuel, I told you. So why the Walk of Shame? Seems a little silly when you’ve spent a whole Sunday in flagrante delicto. Did Matty-boy give you the cold shoulder? Make you sleep in the wet spot? Fail to live up to the promise so clearly defined in the wetsuit? Call you the wrong name? What?”

  “If you’d shut up for a minute, I’d tell you. Your answers are: no, no, hell no, and he calls me the wrong name all the time—Pretty.” They laughed. “No shame involved—it just felt like time to come home. I learned a lot about Matt yesterday, but not how he feels about sleepovers. Not from him, anyway.”

  Sarah lifted her head and raised her glasses to squint at Abby out of one eye. “The plot thickens. I take it this is where Chris comes in?” Abby nodded, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as she raised her head to take a sip of tea. “Well? Spill it, girl!” Sarah demanded, and then observed, “You have tea running down your arm.”

  Abby poked her tongue out to catch the errant drop, and the memory of Matt’s tongue trailing along her skin made her shiver. “Chris congratulated me on being the first woman he knows of to breach the…what the hell did he call it? Inner sanctum? Cave of wonders?”

  “Sounds deliciously dirty, whatever it was.” Sarah lay back down. “Girl, you know what he meant. You’re the Christina Columbus of that casa. You discovered a whole new world. And by invitation, too. Lucky bitch.”

  “Thank you.” Abby grinned, popped in her earbuds, and grabbed her book. Before long, though, it was lying beside her. Her attention was too scattered to get anything out of the words. No matter how cool she’d sounded when relaying the basics of the conversation with Chris to Sarah, every time she thought about it, she felt a clutch of butterflies take wing in her stomach.

  After Chris’s slurred compliments, Abby had considered staying. Now she was grateful she’d called a cab. It would have been all too easy to forget that little issue of time. No matter how often her brain pointed out that this was the age of Skype and texting and unlimited cell minutes, her gut told a different story. Two months together was not substantial enough to give a long-distance relationship a hope of surviving between face-to-face visits; those would be few and far between if she was paying for travel. If Matt even wanted that. She’d rather have a perfect summer relationship—no strings attached—than wake up thinking it was more and find out she was wrong later.

  “Can I make a suggestion, Abby?” Sarah’s voice cut into Abby’s ruminations.

  “Sure. What?”

  “Two things, actually.” Sarah swiped sweat off of her brow. “First, finalize Jason. While you were off cavorting with Clayboy, Bikeboy showed up here, and I entertained him.”

  Abby leaned up on her elbows. “Jesus, Sare. I’m so sorry.”

  Sarah waved her hand dismissively. “No probs. Not like you wouldn’t do the same for me. Just be clear, okay?” She sat up and swiped at her face. “I think we need an Independence Day party, babe. You can celebrate…whatever is going on with you and Matt, and I feel the need for many drinks and beach music.” She leaped to her feet. “I’m melting here. An ice-cold beer and the AC sound good to me. You coming?”

  “Not quite yet. I’m enjoying the sunshine that I’m not lying in.” Abby laughed. “The water and the breeze are nice too.”

  “You’re crazy, but I suppose that’s why I love you.” Sarah gathered up her things and the empty lunch containers and headed up the beach toward the house. “Have fun slow-roasting.”

  Abby rolled onto her stomach and opened her book. Hearing the door to the cottage open, she remembered that Sarah had mentioned two suggestions. “Hey! Sarah!” she called, waiting for her friend to turn. “What was the second suggestion?”

  Sarah smiled. “Don’t over-think this,” she called back. “Enjoy the summer. Change, baby. Carpe-freaking diem.” She leaped up the back steps and enclosed herself in the air-conditioned house.

  Settling down after a sip of tea, Abby lost herself in her book. Eventually, though, the heat and her late night caught up to her, and she laid her head on her arms, letting her mind drift off with the music.

  A whisper-light tickle on her stomach brought her swimming to murky half-consciousness. She brushed sleepily at the fly and encountered instead soft hair. She stiffened with a gasp but relaxed again as she glanced down. She popped out her earbuds. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey, you,” Matt replied, tracing the curve of her waist with a finger as he crouched beside her. “I was running by and saw you sleeping in the sun. Not a great idea.” His palm caressed her stomach before settling on her hip.

  Abby shifted so the contact was firmer. Matt’s lips quirked into a smile. “I was under the umbrella, I swear. The sun’s shifted.” She lifted her head and looked down. “Did I burn?” Sliding one hand down her stomach, she rolled the waistband of her bikini bottom down so she could check for a color difference.

  Matt groaned. “That was just cruel.”

  “Speaking of ill-advised moments in the sun, what were you doing running at this time of day?” Abby asked.

  “I had Zoe in this morning—bloodthirsty thoughts every time I had to reposition her. I decided to say bye-bye. I’ll use educated guesses for whatever I didn’t shoot.” Matt grinned down at Abby. “It wasn’t nearly as much fun as yesterday’s photo session.”

  Abby felt a deep blush descend from her hairline.

  Matt caught her downcast gaze. “Hey. Don’t. Don’t be embarrassed. Yesterday was…” He trailed off, searching for words. “It was pretty damned incredible.”

  Abby’s lips began to turn up. “It was, wasn’t it?” She stretched up to kiss him. “So, how does that relate to you killing yourself by running in the sun?”

  “Needed to blow off some steam before my second favorite person shows up this afternoon.”

  Abby laughed. “What did Jason ever do to you?” One side of Matt’s mouth crooked up into a smile. “Don’t be such a guy,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “Do you have pictures of him too? You might need them…he showed up at the cottage last night. I’m going to talk to him later.”

  “I thought that was taken care of.”

  Abby slid her arm around his waist. “I haven’t told him anything about you, Matt. I was thinking that it might be easier…and you’re his boss…” She sighed. “It was the best I could do at the time. You might lose your model now.”

  “I’m sick of both of them anyway.” Matt looked at his watch. “Playtime’s over.”

  They got up, and when they reached the porch steps, he folded Abby into his arms, kissing her with slow intensity and thoroughness as his fingertips ran up and down her spine. He chuckled at the tap on the door and a muffled “Get a room.”

  “Is she always like that?” he asked.

  “Sometimes she’s worse.” Abby aimed a kiss at his chin. “You’d better move it, mister. You’ll be late.”

  Matt grumbled, but he nodded. His expression became serious. “About what Chris said this morning—he meant it as a compliment…a statement…” Matt brushed a hand through his hair. “He didn’t mean for you to leave, Abby.”

  Abby smiled. “I didn’t leave because of that, Matt. Please. I’m an adult.”

  “Then, why…”

  “Because we hadn’t discussed how to handle the morning. I know better than to assume. And because you already took an entire day away from work for me.” Abby saw the protest rising to his lips and reached out to cover them. “Okay?” She kept her hand in place until he kissed her palm.

  “Okay. Just, next time…” There was conflict in his eyes. “Wake me up and say goodbye.”

  Abby refused to let disappointment show on her face. “Next time? What makes you think there’ll be a next time?”

  Matt smiled. “Oh, there will. I predict a lot of next times. And you’ll love every one.” He kissed her again and murmured against her lips, “I like you, Abby Reynolds.”

  “I like you too. But you’re a cocky bastard.” She kissed him firmly
. “Get going, mister.”

  Abby watched him run down the beach, slow at first, but then faster, until he settled into a ground-eating lope. She admired his form and grace until he passed beyond her view. Then she turned with a sigh to enter the cottage.

  “That looked fun,” Sarah observed.

  Abby reached past her friend to grab the phone. “No, this is the fun part,” she said ruefully. She only had to wait through a single ring before Jason answered.

  A few days later, Abby toted another cooler out the back door. She surveyed Sarah’s party preparations, including the improvised fire pit. “Sarah, are you sure you can have a fire on the beach?”

  “Pretty sure I can’t,” Sarah answered cheerfully, plopping a case of beer on top of a cooler. “But we’ve invited all the neighbors, and we won’t light it until full dark. By the time the beach patrol shows up, it’ll be late. Then I’ll argue whether the pit is on my property or on the public beach, which doesn’t matter, but they’ll be so worried about scaring off the tourists that they’ll play nice and argue quietly. By the time they get pissed, I’ll be ready to evict people anyway.” She pushed her hair back from her forehead and grinned. “It’s a win-win situation.”

  Abby shook her head. “You scare me. You really do.” She looked around critically, noting the mostly empty food tables. “Are you sure everyone was okay with pot-luck? Doesn’t seem like the neighbors’ style.”

  Sarah draped red, white, and blue cloths on the tables. “Grab that cake, would you, Abby? Our oh-so-wealthy neighbors were…‘tickled pink’ is what I think Mrs. Bowman called it. Old lady Drake said it was ‘delightfully Bohemian,’ too. I figure if we play oldies for the first couple of hours after dinner, their Metamucil will have kicked in, and they’ll all toddle off home, happy to have been asked to party with the youngsters.”

  “Youngsters?”

  Sarah waved her hand dismissively. “Comparatively speaking.” A frown creased her brow. “Now, if the fireworks show nicely over the water and the real youngsters stay away, my night will be perfect.” She gave Abby a sideways glance and an evil grin. “Again, comparatively. Though not quite as nice as yours, I’d imagine. Tired today?”

  “Shut it. I was home before dawn, and you came rolling in just a few minutes before I did. Don’t lie—you had shoes on, and you never wear shoes inside for longer than five minutes.” Ignoring her friend’s whispered “Damn,” Abby changed the subject. “Wow. Now that you mention it, I think this is the first time we’ll have missed watching the fireworks over the Harbor since…forever. David won’t know what to do with himself.”

  “He’ll survive,” Sarah muttered. She started to shift chairs around violently.

  Abby sighed. Though she was initially glad Sarah and David had started to communicate with each other rather than through her, she was starting to worry that they’d never admit they cared about each other. “When are you guys going to stop texting and start talking?”

  “Tried this morning. No answer.” Sarah turned with a bright smile, a sign that the subject was definitely closed. “Good thing I told people to bring beach chairs if they had them, right? I’m going to check if we have all the s’more stuff.” She swept up the stairs and into the house, leaving Abby to start the grills and greet the first guests as they came around the side of the cottage.

  The next couple of hours passed in a blur of cooking, eating, and drinking, punctuated by greetings of newcomers. The gathering became more boisterous as the beer coolers and wine tubs emptied. Sarah had set dinnertime for seven, and by the time that rolled around, her normal good nature had returned. She circulated amongst her guests, greeting the faces that she’d known vaguely since adolescent visits to her aunt with the same bonhomie as she offered to those she’d met weeks earlier.

  Abby moved around the group, greeting people and getting anxious about Matt. She’d awakened him to say goodbye before she left early that morning, and as soon as he’d opened his eyes a crack and smiled, she’d longed to crawl back between the sheets. As the evening sky darkened and Sarah started the beach fire, though, Matt had yet to make an appearance or to call.

  She was hesitating, phone in hand, when Sarah hissed from behind her, “Lordy, lordy…look who showed up. If looks could freeze, you’d be Antarctica.”

  Abby caught Jason’s eye as he came around the corner of the house, towing a hesitant Zoe. Claire and Charles were at his heels.

  “Glad you could come, guys,” Sarah said cheerfully.

  Abby took in the younger woman’s tense posture and suspected Zoe had guessed Jason was using her for spite. “Zoe, you put us all to shame. You’re gorgeous. Thanks for coming.”

  Visibly relaxing, Zoe smiled. “Thanks. Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Before Abby could answer, Jason broke in to the conversation. “Zoe wanted to come. That’s the only reason I’m here.” He looked around. “You wear out our ex-boss?” he asked belligerently, snapping his gum. Abby tried to think of an answer both cutting and clean enough for the elderly neighbors who were listening to the exchange with great interest. Jason tugged Zoe’s hand. “Never mind. Let’s dance.” Zoe looked back with a mixture of apology and laughter in her eyes.

  Claire kissed Abby’s cheek. “Darling girl, tell Charles where he can put his load down before he has a hernia and I miss out on my little bit of somethin’ somethin’ tonight.”

  Charles grinned, face red and arms straining from the case of wine he held along with the mesh bags full of goodies that hung from his elbows. “God forbid the little woman go without when I’m home,” he said breathlessly as he flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Nice to see you again, Abby. Welcome to my sex life.” Abby laughed and pecked him on the cheek.

  A general cheer went up when the local benefactor was recognized, and eager hands relieved Charles of his burdens while another contingent went back to his car for another load. He grabbed his wife’s hand and a beer at the same time before heading toward a boisterous group near the fire. Sarah pumped her fist in the air. “Yes!” she hissed. “I was getting worried about the noise, but now that Santa Charles is here…” She laughed and walked down the beach, dropping her load of chairs before joining the dancers.

  A pair of warm arms wrapped around Abby’s middle, and she turned to see Matt. “I was getting worried about you. Thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

  “Nah. I just got caught up in the clay again. I didn’t even realize what time it was until I heard Claire shrieking that she was tired of waiting around for me.”

  Abby kissed his mouth hard. “What was so absorbing?”

  “This curve right here.” Matt traced the small of Abby’s back and over the slight rise of her bum. She shivered, and he laughed. “But before that, I finished the first Jason statue.” He nodded at his subject, dancing on the sand, and got a shrug and a frown from him in return.

  “One down and two more to go before September.”

  Abby’s stomach plummeted when she thought about the end of summer, but she kept her bright smile. “That’s wonderful! I guess we know what you’ll be doing for the rest of the summer, right? Can’t lose the momentum now.”

  Matt smoothed Abby’s hair with one hand. “Not the only thing I’ll be doing.” He paused for a minute. “Wow. I did not mean that how it came out.” They chuckled together. “I plan on spending time with you, is what I meant. Fuck momentum. If I can’t manage my time and efforts by my age, I’m screwed anyway.” Not leaving any time for a response, he kissed her urgently. He didn’t release her until a wild catcall from the beach drew their attention to Sarah, who was giving Abby a big thumbs-up.

  “I don’t care how much she drinks tonight; you are not taking care of Pukerella again.” Matt smiled and waved at Sarah. He tucked Abby’s hand in the crook of his arm. “What is there to drink around here?”

  Grabbing a bottle of zinfandel and a couple of plastic cups, they walked toward the laughing group seated near the fire. Plopping into coup
le of chairs, they caught the end of Charles’s story about dodging a particularly determined bar girl in the Philippines by jumping out the men’s room window.

  “Last time I act like a gentleman and buy a lady a drink,” Charles said to general laughter.

  “At least, the last time you forget to look for an Adam’s apple.” Claire nipped Charles’s bottle from his hand and took a swallow before setting it down beside her chair. Charles laughed right along with the gathered partygoers.

  As the time for fireworks neared, people started to drift away from the fire, spreading out along the beach to get the best view of the show. Matt nabbed a blanket off the sand. “Coming down to the water?” he asked Charles.

  Charles snuggled down in his chair, pulling Claire onto his lap. “Nope. I plan on taking advantage of the lack of wild partiers up here to listen to Otis Redding and feel up my wife.” He flapped his hand in a shooing motion as Claire laughed. “Carry on. Fireworks don’t last long enough these days.”

  Matt draped the sandy blanket over his shoulder and took Abby’s hand. They headed down the beach, away from the revelers who were busily setting up chairs and laying down blankets. They walked until the person furthest from the house disappeared into the darkness. Taking advantage of a sheltering clump of tough beach grass, Matt laid the blanket down and sat, spreading his feet on the blanket.

  When Abby was settled between Matt’s legs, her knees up and feet aligned with his, he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder as the first brilliant flash exploded over the water.

  They watched the fireworks for a while, and Abby almost drifted off while counting the beats of his heart against her back. The boom of a particularly loud firework jerked her back to reality, and she sat upright, watching the huge explosion disintegrate into a million tiny stars. “Beautiful,” she breathed.

  Cool fingers brushed her hair off her neck an instant before warm lips descended. “Beautiful,” Matt agreed.

  Abby tilted her head to give him better access. “I thought we were watching fireworks.” Humor balanced with need in her voice. Matt glanced at the brightly illuminated sky before returning to his explorations.