by J. L. Jarvis
“Okay. But it’s not going to blow over like some sort of nor’easter.”
“It may as well be. It’s already blown through and destroyed everything that we had.”
“So you rebuild.”
“Allie, I know you’re trying to help, but the only way you can help us right now is by not telling Lydia.”
“Marco, you’re asking a lot. She’s not just my employee. She’s my friend.”
“Then as her friend, don’t tell her anything. If I don’t even know what to tell her, involving yourself will only confuse things.”
“So I’m supposed to stand by and watch her suffer?” When Marco offered no alternatives, Allie sighed. “Okay. I won’t say anything—for now—but I won’t be happy about it.”
“I can live with that.”
She touched his arm. “Don’t wait too long.”
The door swung closed behind her, and Marco let out a sigh of relief.
Marco returned to the table. He had to. He’d been absent too long, which would only make things more awkward. So he intercepted Mel as she brought out their dinner then took it over to the table and served them. That kept him busy enough to keep them distracted. He managed some small talk, which at least broke the tension. Mel stopped by the table a few minutes later to check how dinner was. After that, much to Marco’s relief, Allie and Theo began talking about various Pine Harbor holiday events. Marco even managed to throw in a comment or two just for show, but Lydia remained almost entirely silent.
After what felt like a very long meal, Allie and Lydia left. As soon as they were out the door, Theo said, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Can you handle the bar?”
Despite looking thoroughly puzzled, Theo said, “Yes.”
“Good.” Marco went upstairs and closed the door to his room.
What is wrong with me? That was an excellent question. The short answer was “a lot.” Allie had figured it out, and he was pretty sure that his brother knew something was up.
Marco had feelings for Lydia. He should never have allowed it to happen. The only reason he’d let himself get close to her was that they were just friends. If they had been dating, he would have ended it by now. But their friendship had meant something to him, so he had allowed it to deepen, and he was in over his head. He thought back and tried to pinpoint when things went so desperately wrong.
Lydia had taught him to crochet. That alone should have been a red flag. If anyone else had suggested it, he would have told them what they could do with their yarn balls and hook. Maybe Lydia’s crochet hook was enchanted and invisibly wrapped around his neck. There were crazier explanations for what was happening to him.
From there, things progressed to their brief life of crime—hacking into Decker’s real estate presentation. Until then, Marco’s impression of Lydia had been of a quiet schoolmarm type who strictly followed the rules. But she had jumped right in and committed to the project, whatever the cost, and he loved her for that—not loved, liked. He just liked her as a friend and a partner in crime.
He smiled as he recalled the moment Theo had caught them red-handed, made them confess, then assigned what he thought was an appropriate punishment. Theo’s version of community service was cleaning the toilets in the brewpub. It wasn’t the sort of thing Marco would have expected to laugh his way through, but that was what they’d done. It was gross, but they had gloves and masks—that was Lydia’s idea—and they laughed about it as they got the job done. Lydia made up a competition that involved dividing the bathroom in half and competing for speed and quality. They were about to ask Theo to judge when he interrupted and granted them both a reprieve.
Maybe that was what had cemented their friendship. If two people could enjoy cleaning a restaurant bathroom, they could conquer the world. Whatever the glue was that bound them together, from that day on, they remained close. After that, an hour didn’t go by without them messaging one another. It was effortless then. Why can’t we just go back to that window in time?
But what sent them over the line was the day they went searching for Lydia’s father. She would have gone there alone, but she looked so vulnerable that Marco didn’t hesitate. He knew he had to protect her. He still felt that way. Yet he had just hurt her feelings. She didn’t deserve that.
He pulled out his phone and sent her a text. Sorry. I’m a jerk. Bad day. Bad mood. Sorry.
And you think that’s enough?
I was hoping. He waited. Maybe she wasn’t really angry with him, but he’d caught her at a bad time. He waited five more minutes. Lydia?
Marco tried periodically throughout the evening but was rewarded with silence. Okay, I guess that means she’s angry.
Eight
Marco looked at himself in the rearview mirror as he sat in the parking lot behind the Gallery. Today’s a new day, and things always look brighter in the morning—for the sun. I’m not so sure about you. In fact, you look like a guy who hasn’t slept, which sounds about right.
He was stalling. Lydia had her lunch break in two minutes, so he didn’t have much time to waste. He drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it had to be done. So he sucked it up and got out of the car.
When he walked into the shop, he noticed a pair of gray-haired women within earshot of the counter, where Lydia stood scanning a box of new notepads. She glanced up with her pleasant shopgirl expression then, seeing it was Marco, shifted to a narrow-eyed look that nearly made Marco shiver. It was going to be a steep uphill climb. She averted her eyes, first looking at the customers then at random points in the shop—anywhere but at Marco. He pretended to examine various items as he casually browsed. He was actually skulking, which wasn’t his style at all. But feeling that way wasn’t his style either. This was just too darned uncomfortable.
With nothing to do but wait for the customers to make a decision and leave, he relived the highlights of his sleepless night. For some reason, Lydia’s new boyfriend annoyed him. That had cost him thirty minutes of sleep right there. But for twenty more minutes, he thought of how happy she seemed with Bryce. That was twenty minutes he could have been sleeping. He pondered the pertinent question of whether his dislike for Bryce was significant enough to justify interfering with Lydia’s happiness. Sometime during that mental debate, he realized what he wanted was irrelevant. Dating Bryce was Lydia’s choice. She had the right to choose what made her happy, even if it made Marco unhappy. And unhappy he was—profoundly and miserably—enough to wallow in it until he drifted to sleep. Two hours of sleep was all he had left, and it had to be enough to get him through the day.
When he finally slept, Marco did not dream of Lydia. That would have been more than he deserved. Instead, he awoke with her name on his lips and the knowledge that he did indeed like her. It was as much of an epiphany as Marco had ever had. But liking Lydia was fine—or it ought to have been. They had been friends for months. Of course he would like her. But a friend would have been happy for a friend who found romance, because friendship and romance were two separate things. Friends didn’t feel threatened by romantic entanglements. So why am I? No, that wasn’t it. He didn’t feel threatened. He was far too secure to give in to such weakness. Bryce meant nothing to him. It was Lydia he cared for.
Marco’s stomach sank. Lydia meant something to him—more than something. But Lydia liked Bryce. Marco’s chest ached. Lydia’s feelings for Bryce bothered Marco because Marco’s feelings for Lydia weren’t feelings of friendship. Marco was jealous. That revelation was followed by an hour or more of denial, by which point he dozed off and slept just long enough to wake up feeling wretched.
In some ways, it didn’t feel real. He might have blown everything out of proportion. In which case, seeing her in the plain light of day might resolve the whole problem. His new feelings might have lifted like the morning mist rising from the harbor. He had to be sure, and waiting wasn’t an option. If he waited, these affectionate feelings might grow out of control. That was when he decided he
had to see Lydia.
Theo, whose thoughts were focused on the upcoming lunch rush, said, “No.” But Marco reminded him that he was an equal partner, which meant he didn’t need Theo’s permission. “Mel can handle it.” Which she could, but that didn’t mean she would enjoy it. It was amazing how much not enjoying she could convey with one look, but she did.
Marco gave her his most charming look, which he could tell from her response had lost its magic. He upped the ante. “I’ll cover your next shift.” All that got him was a blank stare. “And pay you for it, of course.”
She perked up a little. “Okay.” Then she turned and got on with her work.
Which brought him to his next mental state and location, fraught with conflicting emotions and parked behind Lydia’s workplace.
Allie breezed in from the back room. “You can go take your lunch now.” Then she looked up with a far more pleasant look of surprise than Lydia had offered him moments before. “Marco, hello! I didn’t know you two had plans. Go ahead, Lydia, I’m fine here.”
The two meticulously thorough shoppers finally approached the counter. If their debate was what they went through deciding what to buy in a tiny gift shop, he could only imagine what they must go through when facing a significant task. Marco had always prided himself on being a sociable person, but he wasn’t feeling it at the moment. As the ladies approached the door on their way out, Marco opened it for them.
“Thank you,” one said.
“You’re so nice,” the other said. “It’s so rare to find manners like that anymore!”
Guilt overwhelmed him for a moment. The Gallery was, after all, a store. They had every right to shop there, regardless of Marco’s personal problems. He turned back to Lydia, only to discover she’d escaped through the back door.
Allie glanced toward the back. “Better hurry.”
Marco did just that. He caught up with her outside the back door. “Lydia, wait up!”
With her chin up, Lydia strode toward the street.
Marco ran to catch up. “Lydia, please, can we talk?”
“Why? So you can ruin my lunch?” She kept walking.
“I was hoping I might make it better.” A slight pink tinted her cheeks, which always happened when she was angry. She had that porcelain skin characteristic of so many redheads, with a few tiny freckles that she tried to cover with makeup. He had seen her with and without her makeup. Either way, she looked pretty to him. It shouldn’t have been, but the fire in her eyes at that moment was appealing, while her peach-colored lipstick made her lips look even fuller.
It can’t be true, but it is. I’ve just lost a friend. Or maybe she has. It depends on which way you look at it. I can’t believe this. Of course, she has no idea. Otherwise, while I had my traumatic revelation, she might have patiently waited—and possibly rendered aid. But no, she’s walking briskly ahead with no interest in my agony.
He wasn’t feeling too well. ”Lydia, wait!”
Marco ran to catch up, then she stopped abruptly, causing him to nearly run into her. Thanks to four years on the basketball team, he had the agility to avoid a collision.
“Let me buy you lunch.” He gave her his most smoldering look with a track record of making girls melt, but it got him nothing. Dang. Twice in one day, the Silva charm failed.
She stared over her red-rimmed glasses, which had an adorable habit of sliding down her nose. “How interesting that you think a free meal can buy my attention and your salvation.”
“Oh, come on. I know I screwed up, but don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” He raised an eyebrow for further effect.
Lydia’s lips started to curve upward.
Marco started to smile. “If I dig into my pocket change, I might be able to throw in some dessert.”
Marco was acting in a way that Lydia barely recognized. He wanted, perhaps even needed, her help. She’d always been the one who wanted more, although he never knew it. It felt good to be needed. At the same time, Lydia longed to be free.
Something was wrong with Marco. That much was obvious. He seemed to think she was the only one who could help him get through it. While the friend in her wanted to help him, the woman trying to get over him needed to leave him alone. Her ego had convinced her that he couldn’t manage without her, but she knew that was false. He was an adult, and he would be fine.
Then there was Bryce. With Bryce, she felt normal again. They could go out and have a good time without her emotions tearing in different directions. She could spend an entire day with Bryce, feeling content and secure. He said and did all the right things until Lydia found herself imagining them going through life together in pleasant boredom. Argh! But it’s worse when your heart soars at the mere sight of someone who doesn’t return the same feelings. Marco has ruined my heart, and he has no idea that every gesture of friendship is a stinging reminder of what I can’t have. It’s my own fault. Marco doesn’t know, and he won’t know because I won’t tell him. It’s time to grow up and stop doing this to myself.
“Marco, I can’t have lunch or dessert.” He looked stunned, but he didn’t protest, so Lydia went on. “There’s a lot going on in my life right now. I promise it’s nothing you did. I just need some time to myself. I could lie and say that I’m busy and not answer your calls, but I won’t do that to you. Your friendship has meant a lot to me.” He drew in a breath, but before he could speak, she interrupted. “It’s a small town, so it’s hard to avoid each other.” She tried to smile, but it was hopeless. It was the wrong time for tears, so she fought them. “Let’s just call it a breather.” That was the worst lie you’ve ever told in your life. This is goodbye forever. Only Lydia’s forever was worse, because Marco would always be in it, just out of reach.
Lydia skipped lunch and brought back a coffee.
Allie stuck her head in the doorway between the shop and the back room. “That was quick.”
Barely nodding, Lydia sank into a chair facing the window. Crusted white snow coated the buildings and benches surrounding the harbor. A few forlorn fishing boats sat in the frozen water as if caught unaware of time passing around them. Winter could be so bleak, she thought.
Allie sat down next to Lydia, where she had a good view of the shop in case anyone wandered in. “What happened?”
As much as Lydia wished she could cry and just let it all out, she couldn’t. All that misery lay locked in her heart with no hope of release. “I sort of broke up with Marco.”
“Broke up? That sounds…”
“If it does, then it’s my fault. We were just friends. I knew that. I guess I just reached a point where I couldn’t be his friend anymore.”
Allie said softly, “Because you feel more.”
Lydia nodded as she stared at the horizon. “Bryce and I have been seeing each other. He likes me.”
Allie’s eyes brightened. “Well, that’s good.”
“It is.” Lydia exhaled. “It’s so much easier with Bryce. Everything is calm and serene… and bland. But I think it could get better. Not everyone feels fireworks and heart-pounding longing. Love can take time to grow, right?”
Allie’s eyebrows drew together. “I think so. It’s different for everyone.”
”I want it to be different for me.” She took a sip of her coffee and savored its warmth and comforting flavor. “I think I hurt Marco’s feelings.”
“But he had to understand how you felt.”
“He would have—if he knew.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“I couldn’t get the words out. I’ve already ripped open my heart. I couldn’t just put it all out there for Marco to stomp all over.”
“He cares too much about you to do that.”
Lydia leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling’s edge with tear-moistened eyes. “I don’t understand why, but having him care like that makes it worse, in a way. All that caring looks too much like what I wish I could be. It’s like a carrot dangling in front of my face, and I’m the ja
ckass.”
Allie gently rubbed Lydia’s shoulder then gave it a pat. “Don’t you think you’re being a little bit hard on yourself?”
“Yeah… I’m more of a cute little kitten in his eyes—something to find adorable and play with for a while then set aside when something cuter comes along.”
The bell over the shop door rang to announce customers. Allie said, “We’ll talk later.” She gave Lydia’s hand a squeeze and went into the shop, gently closing the door behind her.
Nine
Marco returned to the brewpub in time to finish the lunch rush and do most of the side work.
Only then did Theo approach him. “Sit down.”
Mel stopped by on her way out the door and leaned on the bar beside Marco. “You still owe me a full shift. That was the agreement.”
He stared down at his hands. “Yeah, got it.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m going out for the evening, and my phone will be off.”
Without looking at her, he said, “Good. Have fun.”
Puzzled, she looked at Theo and exhaled loudly. “We could change it to tomorrow if you want.”
Theo said, “That’s okay. You go ahead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks.”
Theo slid onto the stool beside Marco. “So, what is it?”
Marco stared at the bottles lining the wall. “I’m not even sure what I did, but Lydia doesn’t want to be friends anymore. I was a little irritable the other day, but she’s got no right to complain about that. You should see her in the mornings.”
“And you can’t think of anything that might have prompted this?”
“No. I thought we were really good friends. That’s how I felt, anyway. But she’s just cut me off with no explanation.”
“What about the new boyfriend?”
That touched a nerve. “Boyfriend? I wouldn’t call him that.”