Seaside Kisses

by Stacy Claflin

  Rafael cut the engine, grabbed his things, and went outside, giving his house a closer look. Even in the dark, he could tell where his dad and he had fixed the garage door. He really wanted to replace the door, but that would have to wait until he had more money flowing in.

  He made his way inside and set up the other device, starting to feel like a pro. In half the time it took at the shop, he had this one set up and recording. That night, he went to bed sleeping more soundly than he had in a while.

  The next morning, he stopped in at the candy store before going into his own shop—after making sure no more vandalism had occurred. He didn't see either Amara or Alex in the shop when he came in. A chime sounded above the door announcing his arrival, but still no one came out.

  "Hello?" he called.

  No answer. He wandered around, noting the clever displays all around, but not finding anyone.

  "Is someone here?" he called again.

  Only silence. As he neared the back, he heard muffled conversation behind a door marked for employees only. He knocked, tempted to just go in.

  The door opened, and Amara appeared. Her eyes were wide and her skin pale. She held a phone to her ear.

  "Is everything okay?" Rafael asked.

  She shook her head no.

  His stomach sank, imagining the punks who'd been terrorizing him threatening her. "What's wrong?" he demanded, sounding harsher than he'd meant.

  Amara put a finger up and then spoke into the phone. "No, Alex, don't worry about it. I'll manage. I've been thinking about hiring someone just for the month, anyway. Maybe I can find someone today."

  Rafael sighed a breath of relief. At least it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. But hopefully his old friend was okay.

  "No, seriously, don't worry about it," Amara said into the phone. "I've got it covered today. Just take care of your family."

  The ding from the front door sounded.

  "I'll check on the customer," Rafael said. He turned around and made his way back to the front. "Hi there," he said to a lady he'd never seen before. That was unusual for this time of year. Maybe the Halloween tourist week was starting early this year.

  The lady looked around the store. "I heard there's a candy shop that sells really nice chocolate jack-o-lanterns. Is this the one?"

  "The one and only," Rafael said, sliding his jacket off. He set it on a chair behind the counter. "What size are you looking for?" When wandering around, he'd noticed three sizes.

  She motioned with her hands. "About like this."

  "Follow me." Rafael led her to the side of the shop where he'd seen the largest ones.

  Her eyes lit up. "Oh, these are perfect. I'll take all of them. Will there be more coming in?"

  "This time of year?" Rafael asked. "I'm sure if it." He helped her carry nearly a dozen large chocolate pumpkins to the counter and rang her up.

  "I'm hosting a big Halloween party," she said as they waited for the credit card to be approved. "And I've been trying to find the most unique items possible, and someone mentioned these. I'm glad I made the trip."

  Rafael handed her the slip to sign. "How far away?"

  "Nearly forty minutes," she said, scribbling her signature.

  He compared it to the one on the card and gave it back to her. "Do you want to give us your number so we can let you know when more arrive?"

  "That would be perfect." She reached into her purse and handed him a business card.

  Rafael wrote a note on it about the chocolates she wanted.

  Amara came out, eyes widening to see Rafael behind the counter.

  The lady smiled at Amara. "I appreciate the service here. I'll definitely tell my friends."

  "Thanks," Amara said, raising an eyebrow at Rafael.

  The customer left and Rafael gave her a sheepish grin. "I hope that was okay. You seemed busy."

  She slunk into a chair next to him. "You have no idea. Alex can't make it today, and it's going to be crazy. Every day closer to Halloween…"

  "I can help," he said.

  Her eyes widened. "I can't ask you to do that."

  "You're not asking. I'm offering."

  Sixteen

  Rafael sat in the chair, exhausted. He felt like he'd had a challenging workout. His legs and arms ached and he wanted to sleep.

  Amara stood on the other side of the counter, smiling. "I can't thank you enough for all your help. We've been slammed, and I couldn't have handled all that on my own."

  He yawned. "It was my pleasure. I'm just glad there's finally a break," he admitted.

  "It isn't going to last long," Amara said.

  Rafael raised an eyebrow.

  "We have a field trip scheduled in a half hour."

  "What exactly does that mean?" he asked. He imagined a bunch of little kids breaking everything in sight.

  "One of the fifth grade classes will be here, and we'll show them around," she said as if it was no big deal. "Don't worry. I'll do all the talking. All I really need you to do is to help the teachers make sure the kids stay where they're supposed to."

  "That shouldn't be too hard, right?" he asked. "The kids are, what, eleven? They should know how to behave."

  She nodded. "But at that age, they like to show off and be sneaky."

  Rafael smiled, not sure he was up for the job. He'd seen Amara handle kids flawlessly, but he knew he didn't have her grace.

  She leaned over the counter. "You'll do great. Usually, the teachers do a good job of keeping the kids in line. I think most of them threaten that the kids won't get to take home candy if they misbehave."

  Rafael chuckled. "Smart move. So, when did you guys start the field trips? I can't remember ever coming here for one—and I know I would have loved it."

  "I started the program after we graduated. I thought it would be fun, but my parents weren't so sure." She laughed. "But I think they ended up enjoying them more than me." She talked about the changes she'd brought to the store since working there until the next customer arrived.

  Rafael stood and stretched, preparing himself for a group of twenty to thirty preteens. His phone sounded, alerting him that he had a new text. It was from Zachary.

  Sorry I'm late. I lost track of time writing.

  No prob. Rafael responded. Busy at candy shop.

  Oh? Having fun with Amara?

  2 busy.

  Bummer. What do you want me to do?

  Website. Page 4 grand opening. Ad 4 paper.

  Consider it done. Anything else?

  No. Thx.

  No problem.

  Rafael slid his phone back into his pocket. The front door opened and about five people came in. He welcomed them and asked if they needed help.

  Before he knew it, the class of fifth graders arrived. His stomach twisted in knots. Having spent so little time with kids, he hardly knew what to do with them—especially that many.

  Luckily, he didn't have to worry too much. Amara took charge as soon as they were all inside. She introduced herself and Rafael to the class and then led them around the shop, talking about various types of candy and the process of making chocolate. All the kids were too mesmerized to get into trouble, though Rafael kept his attention on a couple who looked like they would act up if given the chance.

  Amara stopped in front of the large taffy machine, sharing its history. "It started out in the Kittle Family General Store over a hundred years ago."

  A few kids gasped.

  Rafael couldn't help smiling. He remembered when he was a kid—a hundred years sounded more like a thousand. Now, for some reason, it didn't seem all that long. Maybe because he was already a third of the way there, and those years seemed to have gone by in the blink of an eye.

  Amara continued with the story of how the taffy machine ended up in their shop in the 1960s, keeping all the kids entertained the whole time. Then she walked around the large appliance, explaining how the various parts worked together to make taffy.

  The kids watched and listened to her with intensity
. Rafael couldn't blame them—she really was amazing.

  After she was done talking, she turned it on, and with a few loud clinks, it started. A couple girls near the front grabbed onto each other, giggling. The contraption continued to whir and clunk while Amara entertained the kids with stories of watching it herself as a child with her brother.

  The taffy machine made a chinking noise. Rafael stepped closer, concerned by the sound. He wasn't the mechanical genius that his dad or Cruz were, but he'd spent enough time with the both of them to know when something didn't sound right.

  The ringing turned into a repetitive clinging. He glanced over at Amara, who didn't seem to notice anything unusual. She waved her arms, laughing as she shared a story about Alex getting his hair caught in it. Most of the kids giggled along with her.

  The long bars pressed back and forth, pulling the taffy appeared okay. Not that he would really know if they weren't. They moved in the same motion over and over again. It was quite mesmerizing, and he had to pull his focus away and study the other parts of the large metallic apparatus.

  Rafael wanted to pull off the front panel and examine what was going on inside.

  "You guys have been wonderful," Amara said. "Who wants some saltwater taffy?"

  The kids broke out into cheers, and then Rafael couldn't hear anything else.

  Amara motioned him over, and handed him a box of little baggies filled with colorful candies. He passed them out to the kids as fast he could.

  "Is it supposed to sound like that?" he asked.

  She didn't hear him. Amara was too busy giving kids their candy and laughing with them. He motioned for the kids to move toward the door, and as he did, the clanging noises grew louder.

  He went over and examined what he could, but most of the parts were behind the sheets of metal. If it wasn't pulling taffy, he might be able to reach in through the middle, but there was no way he could and avoid the sticky candy.

  Now Amara was by the door, saying goodbye to the teachers and children. Rafael walked around, trying to see inside. The worrisome noises only continued growing louder. Maybe that was because the kids were going through the door, making the shop quieter.

  He thought about turning it off, but he didn't know if that would ruin Amara's product—and that wasn't a risk he was willing to take. He didn't know if the sounds were normal for the machine that had been in Kittle Falls for so many years.

  Rafael didn't want to interrupt Amara, so he decided to see what he could do first. There was a piece behind the taffy that he might be able to reach if he was careful. It appeared to stick out beyond the other gears. He reached his arm in, but as the bars pulled the taffy, he almost had yellow, sticky candy on his new shirt. He pulled his arm back quickly, hitting himself in the side. If he'd known he might be getting messy, he would have picked a different outfit.

  The clanging grew even louder, and he couldn't image the noise being typical.

  "Amara, can you come here?" he called over the few remaining kids in the shop.

  A chorus of goodbyes sounded before the bell over the door. The candy shop became quiet now that the kids were gone.

  Amara came back. "Is everything okay?"

  "Is it supposed to sound like this?"

  A loud pop exploded near Rafael, followed by metal scraping against metal inside the contraption.

  Amara's eyes widened and she ran for the machine, going around to the other side. More scratching and banging noises screamed from inside the metal panels.

  "It won't turn off," she cried.

  Rafael hurried over to her. She tugged on a little metal knob, her face reddening.

  "Let me try," he said. She moved over and he gripped it, pulling both ways, but it was stuck. "Which way is it supposed to go?"

  "Right."

  He pulled harder to the right, but it wouldn't budge.

  "Is there another way to shut it down?" he asked.

  A loud pop sounded next to Rafael's ear. He turned and saw one of the pieces that pulled the taffy flying through the air—seemingly in slow motion—right for Amara's head. It was large enough to do real damage.

  He jumped in front of her, shoving her out of the way. She stumbled back, crashing into a display of chocolate witch heads. Half of them fell onto the ground as she tried to steady herself.

  The bar full of bright orange taffy hit Rafael in the shoulder, digging deep. He couldn't tell if it cut the skin, but the pain was sharp and searing. He let out a gasp and reached for his wound as the taffy ran down his front, leaving a trail of orange down his deep turquoise shirt, black pants, and finally his shoes.

  The pain in his shoulder intensified and he noticed a trail of red making its way down, mixing with the candy.

  "Are you okay?" Amara asked.

  Rafael turned to her. "Fine. How are you?"

  She stood up straight and brushed off her clothes. "I'm—you're bleeding!"

  "It's nothing." He wiped his shirt, but his shoulder was so tender, he winced.

  Amara's eyes widened. "Let me see."

  "Really, I'm okay."

  She ran over to him, staring at his shirt. "It looks like you're losing a lot of blood."

  The taffy machine made a screaming noise.

  "Just find a way to shut that off," he said.

  Amara's face lit up. "The plug." She ran to the other side of it and soon, everything went quiet.

  Rafael leaned over and picked up the gooey mess at his feet. "Let me help you get this cleaned up."

  She looked at him like he was crazy. "We've got to get you over to the urgent care clinic."

  "Not before the taffy sticks to your carpet and ruins it."

  Amara shook her head. "I don't care about that. Let me see your cut." She came over to him and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt.

  Despite the searing pain in his shoulder, his heart raced over her starting to take off his shirt, even though he knew it wasn't anything romantic. Her mouth dropped after she'd undone the third button. "We definitely need to get you to the clinic. Now."

  "Is the machine—?"

  "Forget the taffy," she said.

  "I just want to make sure it's not going to catch on fire and burn down your business."

  Amara shook her head. "It's unplugged."

  "Doesn't mean it can't burst into flames."

  She sniffed. "I can't smell anything. We need to go. I'll drive you."

  "You can't close down your shop this time of year."

  Amara's eyebrows came together. "And you can't drive yourself."

  "I can walk. It's not that far."

  She shook her head. "You think I'm going to let you walk through town like that?"

  "You're sure stubborn," he said. "Let me clean this up, and then you can drive me. But then I want you to just drop me off and come back here. Deal?"

  Amara's mouth curved down as she appeared to consider it. "Fine. Deal."

  Rafael could tell she didn't mean it.

  Seventeen

  Amara pulled into a parking spot in the parking garage across from the urgent care clinic. If Rafael thought she was just going back to the store while he sat in the waiting room with a massive gash—thanks to her taffy machine—he had another think coming.

  She pulled out her phone and called Alex, filling him in what happened as she walked through the garage and across the street.

  Alex sighed on the other end of the phone. "I knew I should have had that thing looked at. Is he going to be okay?"

  "I think he's going to need stitches."

  "That sucks," Alex said. "Look. I'll call Wes McLanahan and have him check out the machine. Hopefully, it can be fixed. If I need to go to the shop, I will."

  "But everyone's throwing up, Alex. You have to take care of them."

  "Someone has to let Wes in."

  Amara wanted to scream. "Can you give me an hour? Once they get Rafael in, I'll go back to the shop. He can text me when I need to pick him up."

  "Are you sure?" Alex
asked.

  "Yeah. Let's just do that."

  "Okay. I'll tell Wes one hour."

  "Thanks. Send everyone my love."

  "Will do," Alex said. "If you need me, just let me know."

  "Okay." Amara ended the call and went inside. Rafael sat in a chair facing a fish tank. She took the chair next to him.

  He shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't go back to the store."

  "Not when you're injured because of me."

  Rafael raised an eyebrow. "It's not your fault."

  "My taffy machine attacked you."

  He sat taller. "It would have hit you in the head if I hadn't gotten you out of the way."

  Amara rubbed her sore back, where it had dug into the side of the wooden display. "I appreciate that. I can't imagine if that would have been my head. Are you still bleeding?"

  Rafael lifted the towel he had over his cut. "Yep."

  Amara frowned. "They can't get you in now?"

  He pressed the towel back against his shoulder. "There are more critical cases ahead of me. I'll be okay. You really should get back to the store. I don't want you losing sales because of me."

  She shrugged. "We need to get the machine fixed first, anyway."

  "What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure. Wes McLanahan is going to look at it, and then we'll decide. Alex and I have known for a while that we might just have to retire it, so it's not a huge loss. He's been wanting to see if he could build one himself, and this gives him the perfect excuse."

  "What will you do with this one?" Rafael asked.

  "We thought about either displaying it or donating it to the Kittle museum. It's part of the town's history." She glanced at his orange covered clothes. "Sorry about the taffy getting all over you."

  "It's nothing," he said. "Like I said, I'm just glad you didn't get hurt. If that metal would have hit you in the head…" He shuddered.

  Heat ran through Amara. She couldn't get over how genuinely concerned he was about her. "Well, I owe you."

  He raised an eyebrow. "No you don't. I'm just glad I was there."

  "I need to take you out for dinner as a thanks."

  Rafael's mouth curved up. "I suppose I can agree to that."