by Leah Atwood
Standing up after appraising her face in the mirror, she took the clothes. “That skirt is gorgeous. Where’d you find it?”
“One of the Fifth Avenue stores on our last trip to New York.”
Maisy swallowed and gave the clothes right back to her sister. “I can’t wear them. This single outfit probably cost hundreds of dollars and Murphy’s Law dictates I’ll spill something on them or fall and rip a hole in the skirt.”
“Don’t be silly.” Maureen’s hands went up and refused the return. “Of course you can wear them. In fact, you can have them.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Seriously, the outfit looks ridiculous on me.” Wrinkles formed over Maureen’s nose when she scrunched it. “Serves me right for not trying it on, but I thought it would create the illusion of curves.” She laughed. “Turns out, it only enhances what you already have. I went from looking like a pencil to a toothpick.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Trust me.”
Accepting Maureen’s explanation, Maisy began to change. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was stunned by the reflected image. “Wow.”
“I’d say. Imagine what Dominic will think when he sees you.”
“Shush. It’s not like it’s a date or anything.” She tore her gaze from the mirror, her heart skipping a beat because there was a small chance it was a date.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Maureen peered at Maisy’s bare feet. “Do you need shoes?”
She nodded. “Unless you think flip flops or tennis shoes would match.”
Clutching her chest, Maureen pretended to be affronted. “That would be a tragedy. Lucky for you, we wear the same size.”
Five minutes later, Maisy walked down the stairs in time to see Dominic walking through the door behind Aaron.
“Look who I found.” Aaron cast a wink at Maisy then greeted Maureen with a kiss.
“Hi.” Keenly aware of three sets of eyes on her, she rubbed her hands against her thigh.
“Hi.” Dominic’s eyes travelled over her with appreciation. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t look so bad himself in a loose-fitting white button down with khaki cargo shorts, but she couldn’t get the words out.
“You kids have fun.” An amused grin stretched over Maureen’s face.
Dominic held out a hand. “Shall we?”
She nodded, distrusting her voice. The last thing she needed was to give her sister more ammunition. Already, Maureen forgot her prim and proper demeanor, but Maisy enjoyed seeing her sister relax for once. Even if it was at her expense. Placing her hand in Dominic's, they walked outside to the circular driveway.
“Thanks for coming out on short notice,” Dominic said as he opened her door.
“A girl’s got to eat, right?” She smiled, or at least that was what her brain told her mouth to do. The look on Dominic’s face told her it might have been a grimace. Maybe once her nerves settled down…
“Yeah. Right.” His eyes squinted and he gave her a strange look before he took his spot behind the wheel.
“I haven’t been to Ocean View in over a year.” Afraid to look at him, she watched the scenery as they drove. A few blocks more and they’d be out of Maureen’s ritzy neighborhood.
“Roxy said they didn’t reopen for a year after Ida passed through.”
“That end of the island was hit hard.” She moved her hand from her lap to the arm rest on the door. “I’d just returned to DC for the fall semester when it hit.” The family beach house had suffered extensive damage, but she kept that information to herself, reluctant to draw any attention to their different childhood standings.
“Have you been since they reopened?” He spun the steering wheel and the truck moved to the highway.
“A few times.” On dates when she’d been home on school breaks—another fact she didn’t share.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her with a single brow lifted. “Same menu still?”
She let out a breath, only then realizing she’d been holding it. The way he looked at her—she was certain he was going to ask if she’d been on dates. There was no reason she should have been ashamed of the fact, but telling him had the potential to upset their delicate balance. “From what I remember. The hushpuppy recipe hasn’t changed.”
“Then we’re good to go.” He chuckled, then sobered. “Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
“I’m confused.” Turning her head, she made eye contact with him for a split second before he directed his attention back to the road.
“That makes two of us.” His cheeks puckered, showcasing his dimple.
“You ignored me all week, then out of the blue ask me out to eat when we’ll be together all day tomorrow.” She bit down on her lip to remain quiet when she realized bitterness had snuck into her tone.
“Isn’t this what you wanted, to start a friendship again?” His chest rose with a heavy sigh. “I knew you’d be busy dealing with the issues surrounding your father and didn’t want to bother you.”
“So this is two friends having dinner, not a date?” The confirmation she sought sounded more like that of a nagging girlfriend. She stifled a groan, wishing she hadn’t said anything.
“Do we have to say what it is?” His fingers wrapped tighter around the cracked steering wheel. “Can we say I didn’t want to eat alone therefore I called you, and then leave it at that?”
“Sure.” Because that really helped clarify the evening. She crossed her arms and resumed staring out the window.
They didn’t say any more. Soon, the Intracoastal Waterway spread beneath them as they drove across a floating bridge to reach the island. Tourist season wouldn’t begin for another month, but there were a good number of vehicles on the road. As they drove further south, the traffic thinned.
Dominic parked the truck in the front row of the parking lot. He pulled the keys from the ignition, then crossed his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry if I made you mad. The truth is, I’m scared to let you back in my life, but there’s no one I’d rather have dinner with tonight.”
His words flowed over her like honey.
The hooded look he gave her sparked hope for a future.
“I shouldn’t have pushed. I barged back into your life uninvited and you’ve been nothing but kind,” she said.
“Then let’s put everything else aside for tonight and enjoy dinner.” One of his hands rested on the door. “For old time’s sake.”
“For old time’s sake,” she echoed in a whisper.
It didn’t escape her notice that, although he opened her door as usual, he was careful not to make any physical contact. Side by side, they walked into the restaurant.
Dominic approached the hostess. “Reservation for Sellers.”
The hostess looked at her paper. “An outdoor table became available since you called this afternoon. Would you care to dine al fresco?”
Maisy nodded when Dominic peeked her way. “I’d like that.”
“We’ll take the outside table.”
Grabbing two menus, the hostess gestured with her other hand. “Follow me.”
Soft lighting cast gentle shadows over the restaurant as they walked through. Open windows allowed a breeze to bring the salty scent from the shore and gave patrons the full seaside dining experience. Two French doors were fully opened, and the hostess led them to a patio built over the sandy beach.
Dominic pulled out a chair, and Maisy sat down. A tea light candle inside a glass vase flickered. She thought of all the other times she’d been here. Oddly, she couldn’t remember a single detail of any of those trips, except the last time she’d come with Dominic.
To celebrate their engagement.
She swallowed hard, tempted to stand and leave. Memories overpowered her. Watching him, she searched for any sign that he knew the significance of this restaurant. Nothing.
The hostess laid a menu at each of their settings. “You
r server will be with you shortly.”
A waitress came shortly after and placed a glass of ice water in front of each of them. She introduced herself and told them the evening special—low country shrimp and grits. When she asked if they were ready, Dominic ordered sweet tea for both of them then requested more time to choose their meals.
Two minutes later he set his menu down. “What are you ordering?”
“Carolina crab cakes or fish stew.” She closed her menu and set it aside. “I can’t decide so I’ll see what comes out of my mouth. You?”
“The special.”
The waitress returned with a sweet tea for each of them, then took their order. Maisy sipped her drink, waiting for Dominic to take the lead in the conversation.
He didn’t take long. “How’s your dad?”
“Maureen says he’s fine. I haven’t seen or spoken to him.” She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for the condemning response.
“Isn’t that why you needed to come home?” He slanted his head and lines ran across his forehead.
“I needed to sort out my financial situation and talk to the investigators.” Seeing a retort forming on his lips, she quickly added, “Plus Maureen needed me, but she’ll be fine. Aaron is good to her.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Want to talk about why you didn’t go see your dad?”
“Nope.” The invisible brick wall went up and blocked further inquiry on that question. She wasn’t ready to tell him the truth yet.
“Did you regain access to your money?” Only someone as close as he’d once been could get away with asking that and not sound rude.
“Most should be available in three to five days. Aaron had to prove that all my assets were strictly from my income and what Mom left to me. The account that Dad put money into can’t be unlocked yet, but I never touched it anyway.” It might as well be blood money.
“That’s good that you’ll get it back soon,” He lifted his cup and took a generous swig of tea. “Are you good in the meantime? I can spot you some cash if you need.”
“Isn’t that a switch?” A wry laugh escaped before she could stop it.
Wrong thing to say.
“Forget I said anything.” He scowled and muttered under his breath. “So much for being a friend.”
She could kick herself for making light of an issue that had always been a sensitive subject. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out how I meant it.”
A jerky nod gave his acknowledgment. “The offer still stands.”
“Thanks, but I should be okay. Aaron lent me enough to get through.”
“How’s your brother?”
“Refusing to see anyone but lawyers.” She took a much needed deep breath. “Off the record, his wife filed for a separation the day after the arrest.”
“That has to be rough.” A brief wave of sympathy, a splash really, washed over his face. “Nobody understands the word ‘commitment’ anymore.”
An automatic huff puffed her chest and she bristled. “Was that a pointed remark?”
“Good grief, Maisy, I wasn’t even thinking about us.” His eyes shifted then made contact with her. “This isn’t so easy, is it?”
“No, it isn’t.” Heat from embarrassment crept along her neck and jawline.
“Can I ask a question without you getting mad?”
“Isn’t that the universal way of telling someone they’re going to be upset at what you’re about to say, but hoping that addendum prevents the unavoidable outcome?”
“One could argue that you’re right.” A slight smile appeared, but it couldn’t hide the years of pain she saw in his eyes.
“Ask away.” She winked in an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere. “I can only promise I’ll try not to get mad.”
He didn’t laugh.
Oh man, this was going to be serious.
His throat moved when he gulped. “If I was still struggling, hadn’t got the job with Bryce’s band, would you still have moved to Nashville?”
How dare he ask that? But he had every reason. She hadn’t given him any cause to have faith in her and that made her sad. Humbled—all misplaced indignation gone—she reached across the table and took his hand. Squeezed it. “Absolutely.”
For a long time, his gaze focused on her. “I must be crazy because I believe you.”
“It’s true.” She moved her hand away. No others comments came to mind that would be appropriate for the moment.
Their meals arrived, and with it silence. Maisy picked at her crab cake, eventually taking a bite. All the flavors were there, but it didn’t please her palate as it normally would. She popped a hushpuppy into her mouth, and even that lacked appeal. Her nerves were taut with anticipation and worry. A hint of excitement as well.
Dominic forked a shrimp, lifted it to his lips and chewed the bite, coming across unaffected. His nerves of steel had once been a source of contention between them. For a long time, she’d assumed he was unfeeling and apathetic toward many issues. Around the time high school began, she realized he felt deeper than most people but kept a tight guard on whom he allowed to see it. Even now, she doubted many observers would pick up on his nuances, many of them subtle.
Funny how she could still pick them out after four years. Like how he gripped the silverware differently, his finger straight on the fork’s stem rather than bent with the others.
“This is good.” He set down his fork. “Better than I remember.”
“I’ve never had a bad experience here with the food.” It wasn’t a lie—her lack of appetite tonight had nothing to do with the quality of her crab cakes.
His brow quirked when he looked at her half-empty plate. “Not hungry?”
“Guess not.”
“Are you feeling okay? You do look a little pale.”
“Gee, thanks.” She gave a falsetto laugh. “It’s probably the lighting. I feel fine, really.”
“Are you sure? I can take you home.” Worry creased his forehead.
“Trying to back out of our walk on the beach?” Batting her lashes, she flashed a coy expression.
A smile replaced his frown. “Never.”
She ate a few more bites than gave up. All her crab cakes were gone, only her baked potato and steamed broccoli remained. The waitress returned with the check, and Dominic insisted on paying. She offered to leave the tip, but he covered that too. They went outside and strolled to the beach access ramp fifty feet away.
All too aware of her hands at her sides inches away from Dominic’s, she focused on the beach. Sand invaded her sandals, and she slipped off the shoes. Carrying them with her, she looped a finger around the thin straps of leather. The sun had fully set while they dined, but the sand still held warmth from the daytime’s direct heat.
“I’ve missed the ocean.” Dominic inhaled. “It was always my getaway when the world became too much.”
Her heart broke for the boy she’d known. He’d been so young and so strong, but a boy’s shoulders could only hold so much. She remembered vividly the night they’d spent on this beach. Roxy, him, and her. Roxy’s cheek was bruised from a punch meant for Mrs. Sellers from an abusive boyfriend. That was the night Maisy had realized there were worse things than a controlling father, and she hadn’t flinched the next morning when she was grounded for staying out all night.
“If this beach could talk, the stories it would tell.” Bending down, she plucked a seashell from the sand and brushed away the grit. She stood up, examining it under the light of the moon.
“Too many to count.” His fingers brushed against hers when he took the shell from her. He flipped it over and ran a finger over its ridges. “Do you still collect them?”
“Not really.”
“How come?”
“I grew up, I guess. Never gave it much thought.” Oh, but she had. In her car, tucked inside a box of memories, was a trinket holder full of shells she’d collected with Dominic.
He took her hand, placed the seashell in her palm, and cur
led her fingers around it. “Or maybe life got so complicated that you forgot about the simple pleasures.”
There was that word again. The very one she’d used to describe her reason for leaving. “How does one uncomplicate life?”
“Faith. Love. Forgiveness.” A battle waged in Dominic’s eyes, further mixing his signals.
“Why’d you really ask me here tonight, Dom?” She slipped into the casual, shortened use of his name. “It was more than dinner, but what?”
“Let’s walk.”
They still stood near the ramp. She followed him as he walked to the ocean and along the water’s edge. An occasional wave would crash, pushing water to the shore where it trickled over her bare feet.
Hands in his pockets, Dominic stood at her side. “Do you remember our conversation about God on the drive here?”
“Yes.”
“Roxy and I talked for a long time the other day. Did you know the Bible is not just a bunch of rules and do this, not that stuff?”
“Kind of. I haven’t looked at it much.” Not since Mama died.
“There’s verse upon verse about hope and God’s love.” He slipped his hands from his pockets, moved them as he spoke. “Roxy pointed them out to me. I believe them, Maisy. The words are real and once I accepted that, peace came over me.”
“That’s really great. I’m happy for you.” I wish I could find the same.
“All those feelings of inferiority left, but I couldn’t stop wrestling with my heart about you.” He looked away.
She was more confused than ever. “I can’t say I blame you. In reversed roles, I’d have the same problem.”
His eyes rested on her again. “Nana told me something today that I hadn’t thought about. She pointed out how young we were to be engaged. At nineteen, we didn’t have a clue what we were doing.”
“You think we made a mistake, planning to marry so young?” The suggestion hurt, even if it had a ring of truth.
“No. I loved you and like to think we would have made it work.” Regret lingered in his voice. “But the reality is, we both would have brought issues from our childhoods into the marriage and we were ill-equipped to deal with those problems.”