Tiny Island Summer

by Rachelle Paige

  Ben threw up his hands in response.

  “She’s probably going to go out with that guy again,” John offered.

  “That’s not helpful, John.”

  “It’s the truth, though.”

  “I don’t like that guy.”

  “Yeah, he’s not my favorite either. What’s his deal? I’m good looking and dress like I’m dangerous but I’m not. What is that?” John asked.

  “Clearly you’ve thought about this more than I’d realized,” Ben replied.

  “Sorry. It’s just that Char has been going on and on about him.”

  Ben chuckled. “And here I thought you never got jealous.”

  “Shut up.”

  Ben finished his coffee, threw the cup in the trash, and began filling the sink with water and washing out the mountains of dirty dishes.

  “Wow, you’re struggling with this, aren’t you?” John asked.

  “I don’t know what I want here. I’ve put everything in my life on hold to help Mom. Darcy is the kind of girl who you have to get serious with very quickly. It wouldn’t just be a fling. I don’t know if I can handle that right now.”

  “Timing is everything,” John agreed. “Think about it and make sure you understand what you’re risking here by either not going after her or by pursuing her.”

  Ben nodded. “I guess you’ll be out for the day.”

  “Yep, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “No, not yet. Besides, I’ve got to go back to Duluth tomorrow to take care of some things for Mom.”

  John nodded and opened and shut his mouth as if he wanted to say something several times.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “John, it’s okay to talk about this. She’s dying. That’s the reality. We don’t know how much time she has. She won’t tell me anything about how she’s feeling, and she looks great as always.”

  “What are we going to do when she’s gone?”

  “Stick together.”

  “Do you think we can? It’s already turned ugly over where she should be. What’s it going to be like when she’s gone and all of her things are up for grabs? I don’t want to be a part of that.”

  “I know. I don’t either. I hate to say it, but I think she had a point with wanting to sell everything before she dies. She wanted it to be clean and easy. Just a division of assets, nothing tied to our past.”

  John considered that.

  “Come with me tomorrow,” Ben told him. “It’s only for a day, and she needs it. She needs to see you.”

  John exhaled loudly, got up from the island, and started to walk toward the door. “Thanks for the coffee,” he called back cheerfully.

  Ben shook his head. John and their mother had always had a special bond. Growing up, Ben had resented their closeness, the special language they seemed to have just between the two of them. They had always been easy with each other, had always been their best for each other. Her diagnosis had hit John the hardest of everyone, and his denial of her condition had gone on too long. Ben needed to get his brother to see their mom while she could still manage a good visit. He didn’t want either of them to regret the end.

  - # -

  Darcy shivered as she stepped from the hot shower into the air-conditioned bathroom. She wrapped herself in a towel and let her wet hair fall to her shoulders. She’d decided to let it air dry and turn wavy that evening. She walked into her bedroom and saw a dress hanging on the door to her closet—Charlotte’s pick for the evening.

  “Charlotte!” she yelled.

  “What?” Her best friend appeared from the hallway.

  “Are you seriously expecting me to wear this?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” she asked defensively.

  “I can’t wear a bra with it. That’s sending a pretty strong message for a first date. Don’t you think?”

  Charlotte held up the dress, ignoring Darcy’s pleas.

  “It’s fully lined and structured up top. You’ll be fine. Besides, you look best in halter dresses, I think it’ll be perfect.”

  Darcy examined the cotton red-and-white floral print dress further. It would hit just above her knees, but her entire back would be exposed. Nights in Bayfield were undeniably chilly.

  “I don’t have a sweater that goes with this,” Darcy added.

  “That’s the point. If you have a sweater, then he can’t offer you his jacket.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes at Charlotte’s near Austen-tonian machinations. “Why would he wear a jacket? It’s a pop-up restaurant. For all I know it’s outside.”

  “Fine,” Charlotte sighed dramatically. She disappeared and within seconds returned with an eyelet sweater.

  “But now I’ll look frumpy,” Darcy complained.

  “There is no making you happy today. What do you want to wear?” Charlotte asked.

  Darcy opened her closet and carefully assessed the offerings. Her dress clothes were severely limited. She’d spent money only on suits or sweats for the last several years. But in the back, she managed to find a beautiful silk camisole top to go with Charlotte’s sweater, dark skinny jeans, wedge heel sandals, and a soft leather tote. She felt prepared for anything.

  “Not bad,” Charlotte agreed after Darcy had dressed.

  Charlotte stayed to help Darcy with her hair and makeup, and at exactly seven o’clock as they finished, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get the door,” Charlotte told her before racing downstairs.

  Darcy descended at a normal, more leisurely pace. She didn’t want to look eager, but neither did she want to seem disinterested. She was very interested. Char had opened the door wide and stood to one side. Darcy got a clear view of Eric and smiled.

  He looked good in dark jeans and a gray V-neck cashmere sweater. In the light from the porch, Darcy thought she caught a glimpse of silver streaks in his dark hair. She felt silly even noticing it, but John’s words that Eric was too old for her came flooding back. She shook off the thought and any other lingering doubt after making out with Ben. She beamed at Eric. She was excited for this date.

  “Thanks Char, we’ll see you later, okay?” she told her friend, stepping outside with barely a glance next door.

  Charlotte shut the door behind them. Darcy moved to walk toward Eric’s car in the driveway, but he grabbed her hand to keep her in place for a moment.

  “You look great,” he told her.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking down at her feet but smiling all the same. Darcy felt anxious to get away from the house. She didn’t want to have any conversation on the front porch, where John and Ben could stumble upon them at any moment.

  Darcy got in Eric’s car, and as they pulled away, she thought she saw movement in one of the upstairs windows. Darcy shook off the thought and smiled at Eric.

  “So what is deconstructed American exactly?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure,” he replied to her chuckle. “I imagine it’s a lot of tiny grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”

  “I’m okay with that,” she said, beaming at him.

  They drove onto the ferry and got out to sit on the passenger deck above.

  “I love this view,” Darcy told Eric unprompted as she stared across the smooth water to the hilly town beyond. “It looks like a little Christmas village. Do you know those? My mom set one up on our mantel every Christmas.”

  Eric smiled. “I’d never thought of it like that before.”

  “How did you first come to the island?” she asked curiously.

  “A friend needed help and I was bored where I was. But I’ve grown to love it. It feels like home.”

  Darcy nodded. “It’s such a hidden, special place, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “So now you’re here writing full time.”

  “Trying to,” Eric replied, chuckling.

  “Do you live here year-round?” she asked.

  Before Eric could answer, the horn blew indicating that the
y were approaching the dock. “We’d better get back to the car.”

  She smiled and descended the steps first. They got back in the car and drove to a parking lot near the ferry dock.

  “You don’t mind walking, do you?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” she said.

  Darcy congratulated herself on wearing her most comfortable pair of dressy shoes. The wedges easily added four inches to her fix foot six inches, but they still felt as comfortable as flats. Eric grabbed her hand to help her out of the car and held onto it tightly as they walked up the street.

  He led her past several restaurants and bars in full swing on a weekend night to an outdoor terrace attached to a hotel. After speaking with the host, they were lead to a table in the corner with a stunning view of the lake and Madeline.

  “And now we get to see the reverse view.”

  Darcy smiled. “I’ll take it.”

  A waiter came to take their drink orders and informed them that the menu had been set for the evening by the chef. Darcy ordered an iced tea, not at all eager for another all-day headache, and Eric joined her.

  “You were asking earlier if I lived on the island full time?” Eric asked.

  Darcy nodded.

  “I rent a little cottage from friends on the opposite side of town from you.”

  “Oh,” Darcy said distractedly. She barely registered his words.

  Eric smiled. “That’s it? That’s your response?”

  “I don’t want to drag down the evening with a serious conversation, but you are so easy to talk to.”

  Eric smiled. “Thank you. That has been a big part of my job. What is it?”

  “I’m trying to figure out my next move. I’m torn. I love what I do, or rather, what I used to do. But I didn’t love the environment. I’m looking for jobs, of course. But I’m playing around with the idea of starting something on my own and working for myself. Why work as hard as I do and not get the full benefit, right?”

  “Interesting. But what do you do?”

  “In short, I appraise personal property for auction. But I think I could turn that into a company appraising personal property for insurance purposes and trying to help people find the best company to sell their property to if they needed to sell.”

  Eric nodded. “I guess it comes down to whether or not you think you can support yourself on your own.”

  “I think I could.”

  “Then it sounds like you’ve made your decision.”

  “It’s not as easy as that. If I work for myself, I have to start from the ground up. Working for an established firm, the clients come to you and not the other way around.”

  Eric nodded. “You have a lot to think about.”

  “Yeah,” Darcy sighed. “I’ve loved being here.”

  “Is this your way of telling me you’re leaving?” Eric teased.

  Darcy shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying to tell you that I have nothing figured out and I don’t know where I’m going.”

  Eric smiled. “You think I do?”

  “You seem a lot more at ease with your life.”

  Eric chuckled. “If you want to talk to someone about working for yourself, I could give you Emily’s number.”

  Darcy bit her lip. “Emily?” she asked, unable to place the name.

  “At the coffee shop. You met her the other day.”

  “Oh,” Darcy’s eyes widened.

  “What’s that look about?” Eric asked.

  “She was kind of . . .” Darcy trailed off. “That’d be great, to talk to someone, I’d appreciate it.”

  “No, tell me,” Eric prodded.

  Darcy bit her lip and turned to look away. She felt silly even bringing it up. Eric reached out and touched her hand.

  “She threatened me,” Darcy told him, her cheeks burning.

  Eric leaned back in his chair and assessed her. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should. She’s very protective of you.”

  “I didn’t think she had it in her,” Eric said with a smile. “But I’ll vouch for you, and you should talk to her if you get a chance.”

  Darcy smiled. “Thanks. I will. And I don’t mean to bore you. I’ll stop talking about this now. I’m sure Charlotte would yell at me to stop if she could see me.”

  “How long have you two been friends?”

  “Only about seven years, but it seems longer.”

  Their dinner came and their conversation veered into small talk. They chatted about nothing and everything from his travel and work to her tattoo. The conversation never lapsed and was full of laughter and ease. As dinner wrapped up, they walked back to the street.

  “Do you hear that?” Darcy asked. She thought she’d heard the sound of trumpets, but she couldn’t be sure over the din of revelers at the bars and restaurants they passed.

  “Hear what?” Eric asked clearly bemused.

  “Listen, it sounds like it’s coming from over there,” she told him pulling his hand. Eric followed her without complaint. She led him down the street toward a building overlooking the lake.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “This is the Pavilion. It’s a rental space. It gets used a lot for events and weddings. I think there is one happening right now.”

  Again the sounds of brass instruments flared up and filled the night.

  “Is that a big band?” Darcy asked in wonder.

  Eric grinned. “I think it is.”

  It was his turn to tug her hand and lead her around the building to the dock behind. Darcy looked into the windows as they passed. The wedding reception showed no signs of slowing down. She couldn’t help but smile at the joy she glimpsed.

  Eric stopped close enough to the building that they could listen without interrupting the event. He grabbed her other hand, twirled her, and they began to dance.

  They danced for two songs, then the band slowed down for a waltz and Eric and Darcy floated over the dock. They had been silent, each enjoying the moment too much to spoil it with words. She smiled at him, completely in awe of the rough looking man who was unbelievably suave. He smiled back and she nearly laughed at loud. He looked at her questioningly.

  “I never would have pegged you for a dancer,” Darcy told him simply.

  “My mother loved to dance and never had a daughter,” he began, and then paused to spin and dip her, much to her delight. “She took me with her to her dance studio and taught me ballroom, so I could dance with her.”

  “That’s sweet,” Darcy said and smiled.

  He chuckled under his breath. “Now it is. But as an adolescent kid, it was nerdy and embarrassing and I was always trying to get out of going.”

  “But . . . you went?”

  He shrugged. “She was my mom. I would have done anything for her.”

  Darcy nodded silently. He even loved his mother. Did he get any better?

  As the song ended, Eric dipped her one final time. He caught her eyes and held them with his mesmerizing gaze. She’d read about feeling bewitched so often in books before, and at that moment she understood the sentiment.

  Slowly, with deliberate caution, as if she were a skittish stray dog he was trying to calm, Eric brought his lips to hers. It was a beautiful moment after what had been a lovely evening with a charming man. Under the cool, tough exterior was a respectful, polite man who acted with a chivalric code she’d only seen in old black and white movies.

  It should have been hot and passionate and left her wanting more. Only it didn’t. Despite her open admiration of him, his kiss didn’t stir her senses at all. The kiss was notable for its very lack of power. But when he held her eyes afterward, Darcy could tell it had meant something to him. The kiss had affected him in some stirring way.

  Maybe she had built it up too much? Darcy wanted to make it work with Eric. She would not give up on him. Maybe she needed more time?

  “We should probably get back to the pier,” Darcy said with an uneasy smile plastered on her face.

  He
looked at her, smiled, and grabbed her hand. They walked back to the car, and Darcy willed herself to stop remembering the night before. Thinking about Ben wouldn’t help her now. But she couldn’t deny the overwhelming disappointment she had felt. Darcy had expected so much and had felt so much attraction; to have it all shattered in that one kiss was shocking. She’d expected to be pulled under by a wave of hormones, not to be slammed into a wall by reality.

  Darcy and Eric boarded the ferry, and after parking the car, they went to the passenger deck above and sat together on a bench. Was it truly a bad kiss? Darcy wondered. Or maybe she’d been scared and hesitant? She still feels awkward around him. Maybe she wanted Ben because that was the easy answer—wanting a guy who didn’t want her back let her be free. Being with Eric was a bit dangerous. She felt vulnerable with him.

  The silence between them never felt forced or awkward but they didn’t speak again until they were at her door. Eric walked her to the door and waited as she fumbled with the key. She took a deep breath and willed herself to relax and let him sweep her away. Darcy turned back to Eric and took the initiative and kissed him.

  He stepped back, momentarily taken off guard by her boldness, but after a moment recovered. The kiss heated up but didn’t have the same sudden burst of passion that she’d felt the night before. Darcy sighed and Eric grinned.

  “Bye,” she said, looking down to her feet, unable to meet his eyes.

  Darcy bit her lip. Had he misinterpreted her sigh for a moan? She blushed.

  Eric leaned in to her again and whispered, “I’ll call you.”

  Darcy smiled and took a step back from him. “Sounds good.”

  She waited until he got back in his car and pulled away, waving him off, before going inside. Darcy tried to prepare for the imminent bombardment of Char. But, blessedly, she was asleep on the sofa with John as a movie played on the TV. Darcy made it upstairs, took off her makeup and clothes, and fell into the neatly made up bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ben hadn’t meant to send John over as a spy the night before. But after casually mentioning that Char had been standing at the door talking to “that guy” for a long time, John had been all too happy to run over. Ben had retreated to his room, eager to get a start on packing. The sooner he left, the sooner he could come back.