That Summer

by Michelle Flick

  “One summer with you was enough for me, Remmington. I sure hope you aren’t half as lippy as you used to be.”

  “If I say I am, you still going to hire me?”

  “Job’s yours. You can start tomorrow during the lunch shift. I’ll need you Wednesday afternoons, Thursday and Saturday nights, and Sunday afternoons.”

  “Great. I’ll be here.”

  “I know you will. Come on, let me buy you a drink.”

  He put his arm around me in the fatherly way he always did. And I’m taken back again, for the third time this day.

  “You’re quiet for a Crawford. I know your grandparents. You can’t get a word in edgewise.”

  I gave a slight smile, thinking of my grandparents. “I’m trying to make a good impression.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I’m Joe. I own this place. I need bartenders who can make a drink, but keep people coming back for good conversation and have a backbone.”

  “I’m not afraid to tell someone to get the hell out, if that’s what you mean.”

  He laughed. “So you do have your grandmother’s spirit. Well, I’ll put you on the afternoon shift for a little while and let you get your feet wet. When can you start?”

  “Today, tomorrow, yesterday. I’ve got no place to be.”

  “Excellent. You can start tomorrow. You’re too young to have a drink, so I won’t buy you one, but you can sit down with me and tell me about yourself.”

  He placed his arm around my shoulder and led me over to the bar.

  It’s wonderful how something is still familiar to me.

  “So, let me hear what you’ve been up to for the last eight years. I mean you spend a few months with me and then nothing.”

  “I had some demons chasing me, had a lot of running to do.” I smile at him, but I know he knows I’m serious.

  “Demons gone?”

  “One still is around, but I don’t need to talk about him.”

  Joe pours himself a Maker’s Mark on the rocks, tilts the bottle in my direction, and I nod. He pours me one, too.

  “He know where you are?”

  “If he doesn’t, he’ll figure it out.”

  Joe is thoughtful for a second and takes a drink of his drink. I do the same.

  “Enough serious stuff.” Since only one serious topic was mentioned, I assume he is talking about the deaths of my grandparents as well. Grandma, since I had left, always kept me in the loop on Joe, his family, his business, anything worth mentioning. So when Joe goes on to tell me about all the stuff Grams had told me, I nod, ask the right questions, and seem genuinely surprised. He talks and I listen for well into an hour.

  It’s the first time in a long time that I feel relaxed, a little like this is a good choice. The alcohol may have something to do with it.

  “Enough about me. Tell me something good about you. Good things happen in eight years.”

  “They do. I graduated college with a business degree. Did nothing with it. Created an app. Made some money from that. Got married.” Joe’s eyebrows shoot up. My grandma had clearly left out that I had married Tom. She hadn’t liked him, and turns out for good reason. I skip over his reaction. “Got a dog. Got a divorce. Inherited a beach house.”

  “You always were good at getting straight to the point.”

  I take a drink.

  Joe does that thing everyone does, where they get a lot of information, want to ask about the dirt, but know that they can’t, unless the person offers it up. I’m not ready for South Shore to know about Tom just yet. That is personal.

  “Joe, do you know what an app is?”

  He humphs at me. “Do I know what an app is?” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a Smartphone. “I got one of these, don’t I?”

  “Look at you all fancy. I’m impressed.”

  “Brat.”

  “So which app did you invent? I’ll download it. Help out your rating.”

  I give him an impressed face that he would know what a rating is. “Invest-In-Me.”

  His brow quirks the way most people’s do when they find out what app I invented is. He scrolls through his screen. “Yeah, right here. I do all my banking on it. The bar’s and home.”

  He shows me the icon in the shape of a cartoon pig, with a big grin, and dollar sign sunglasses. “Yeah. That’s it.” I’m good with computers, maybe not so much with graphic designs.

  “You designed that app?”

  “Sure did.”

  “I paid like ten bucks for that app.”

  “Had I known you wanted it, I could have gotten it for you for free.” I smile at him.

  “Brat! Well, there is a yearly subscription for it.”

  “I’ll get you a free year.”

  “I’ll drink to that!” He raises his glass and cheers me.

  Chapter 2

  RC

  I’m not someone who is nervous much. To say I was confident was an understatement. My outlook, confidence, and overall attitude had landed me here for the summer with Grams and Gramps. But coming to this place was like starting a new school in the middle of my senior year and I had a face full of zits. These girls were not welcoming. They were not happy that I was imposing on their territory or their guys.

  I had told Grams that this morning; that her beloved little town was mean. She told me to try and talk to them. I said I would try. A lie, but explaining to my grams it would do no good wouldn’t have helped. These girls wouldn’t listen when I told them I would be gone come the end of August and that I wasn’t interested in any of their guys. Lie number two. I was interested in one of their guys.

  Jack Monroe.

  It wasn’t hard to see everything about him was the opposite of me; quiet, laid back, and thoughtful were his obvious traits. But the fact that he came and sat next to me last night to be kind and not get down my pants really said something about him. I don’t even think I would have minded had he made a move, even if I was miserable last night.

  He was incredibly nice, that’s why I was here, facing this town again.

  I stood on the boardwalk looking for him.

  It’s an ocean of people and I’m looking for a guy I can only identify in the dark or by campfire. I kept searching, until I heard him say, “You looking for someone?” He leaned over the railing, and I decide I like how he looks in the sunset’s light, too.

  “Just someone who was really nice to me last night.”

  “Maybe I can help you find him,” he said, knowing it’s him I’m looking for.

  It is Jack Monroe I’m looking for. But discreetly this time. I don’t know how he will react to my reappearance in his town. I just hope it’s the reunion I want. We had unfinished business as far as I was concerned.

  I had been back at Joe’s for a week. The house was settling in. Steve had popped in twice to Joe’s. I hadn’t told him I was working here again, so the word was getting out. This meant Jack was going to hear about it soon enough, if he hadn’t already. But if he has heard, he was deliberately avoiding the place.

  By the end of the week, I feel like I can actually do this. I’ve stopped jumping every time the door opens and I fell into the same easy routine I’d had before. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jack would show up at the bar. Every time the door opens I’d turn to see if it was him and then be both disappointed and embarrassed that I care so much about seeing him when he clearly doesn’t seem to care at all.

  I’m wiping down a table when the doors to the bar swings open and I don’t bother to look. Joe, who had taken up his afternoons with me, can’t resist. “Tweedle Dum of your twins just walked in,” Joe says under his breath. My breath hitches and a sudden moment of fear grips my stomach.

  I turn, my nerves now getting the best of me and am relieved to see Jared Albright standing there, instead of Jack Monroe.

  He glances over me, waving at Joe, and then does a downward sweep of my figure. He hasn’t recognized me. Why should he? He isn’t expecting me. This does give me hope that Jack isn’t awa
re of my presence. Because if Jared knows, Jack knows. And if he didn’t before, Jared was sure to tell him. It was only going to be a matter of time.

  “Keep your eyes from roaming, pal,” I say.

  He’s startled to be called out and then takes a better look at me.

  “Remmington?” he sounds like he looks, surprised.

  I remember him almost as clearly as I remember Jack. Jack was quiet. Jared was loud. Jack was laid back and watched the scene and Jared was the scene. Jack laughed. Jared made you laugh. His tall and lean frame saunters up to the bar. A smile lights up his green eyes. He’s a handsome guy, still.

  He leans against the bar grinning at me.

  “Remy, never thought we would see you again,” he says good-naturedly. I finish the table and get behind the bar.

  “Life has a funny way of working out,” I reply and grab a lemon from the cooler to slice.

  “So life just happened to pick this town, huh?” he says with a smirk.

  “Yep,” I say, with a cheery smile, ignoring the snort that comes out of Joe. He mumbles about young people being pansies and walks away.

  “Well, on that note, I’ll have a beer and a burger.”

  I scribble down his order and take it back. I smile on my way back to the kitchen. I would see Jack soon, my fear temporarily forgotten.

  Maybe that had been my thought process all along though, subconsciously. South shore. Joe’s. Jack.

  Tom is the reason I am here. I would be safe here. It is fresh here. I’m familiar with here, but I would be lying if I say these are the only reasons.

  When I come back, I realize Jared is taller than I remember, still lean, and the smile that never left his face is still there. I remember.

  “Oh! Don’t leave yet. You’ll break my heart!” Jared had called after me. He was easy to peg. A showboater, for sure. It was his friend that had kept my attention. His friend Jack, the guy a few inches taller than my five eight. Dark hair, couldn’t tell his actual eye color because of the fire, but lighter eyes. I could only tell they weren’t brown. Jared was tall and lean, and Jack was tall and stockier, but not like he weight lifted every day of his life.

  I waved goodbye; that girl who was forever a bitch in my memory wasn’t what I needed. She had brought up my reason for being in South Shore. I didn’t know how she knew my parents weren’t good parents, but she did. I had been looking for some fun, but I would take the calm of the ocean and the distant noise of fun behind me. So now I found myself sitting on the shoreline. My butt completely soaked with the ocean. The breeze was cool on my face, a relief from the heat I had felt on my face from the fire and from that horrible girl’s mean remarks.

  They were mean; they were truths. I was basically unwanted by my parents or not important enough, and my grandpa and Grams were the only ones who really did want me.

  And here I was drinking on the beach, underage, not being a good granddaughter. The bottle waggles in my fingers. I should dump it out.

  “This seat taken?”

  It was Jack. And my heart skipped a little.

  “Not that I know of,” I said as nonchalantly as I could.

  He sat down, in the water with me. He didn’t cozy up to me, like most guys would, and I kind of was hoping that he would have. But this boy was clearly different. He seemed genuinely nice. He didn’t chug beers or do keg stands and then literally drool over some girl, whether she was interested or not.

  He sat there. I figured some small talk was going to happen. At least the typical new girl questions: What brings you here, how do you like it here, what do you like to do. But nothing. Jack sat there staring out into the black night of the ocean, letting his clothes get wet next to me.

  Our continued silence lasted awhile. I had no idea what he could be thinking about. He was a total stranger. But me? All I could think about was what he was thinking about. It was enough to drive me crazy.

  “So you aren’t going to comment on that girl’s comment back at the fire?”

  “No. Not my business.”

  “So, why are you here?”

  It was dark enough where I couldn’t see him, but I did feel him shrug. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, is all. No one deserves that.”

  “But you’re friends with her,” I said accusingly.

  “I grew up with her. She leaves me alone.”

  “But if you don’t agree with how she treats people-“ I trailed off.

  “When you grow up in a small town like us, the bratty girl is more like your bratty sister. You don’t get rid of them. Not that I would.”

  “So you’re here to check on me?”

  “Nope, just here to listen to the ocean.”

  It is that memory, my first interaction with him that I figured out Jack Monroe was not for show; he was someone who cares about people, even the ones he doesn’t know. He sat with me for the better part of an hour. It might have been here that I started to fall in love with him, without me knowing. No one had ever just checked on me before.

  “Well, at least you kept your looks after all this time,” Jared says, trying to get me to react to him.

  “It’s been eight years, Jared, not a life time.”

  He shrugs. I’ve been waiting for him to text Jack, to start a full on conversation, to bring Jack up, because it is clearly the elephant in the room; he doesn’t. And I sure as the hell wasn’t going to bring up Jack. But good lord, did I want to.

  The waitress, Marie, brings out his burger for me. He takes a huge bite out of it, exaggerating it with a loud noise and a big smile with burger and bread hanging out.

  Now I know he’s deliberately not talking about Jack.

  What an ass.

  JM

  My best friend comes flying down the site’s driveway. He had quit an hour ago with the rest of the crew. I had known him too long to think he is coming back to help me.

  I give him a wave as he climbs out and he is shaking his head. We’ve been friends since we were five years old, when we both had Ms. Henderson as a kindergarten teacher. We had come from different backgrounds and were equally as different in personalities, but still Jared remained when most everything in my life changed.

  “Man, you will not believe who I saw at Joe’s.”

  I don’t respond knowing he prefers the dramatic flair of a story.

  “Remmington Crawford.”

  “What?” shoots out of my mouth before I can process what he has said.

  “Just ate a burger with her as she bartended.”

  I recover at this point. “That’s cool.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “She was bound to come back some time.”

  “Man, you waited how long for her and now you’re going to act like it ain’t no big thing?”

  “It’s not. I have Amber. I don’t need her.”

  I didn’t believe Jared when he had told me she was back. That’s why the unchecked “what” came flying out. I’m pretty sure a part of me refuses to think after eight years she would come back. She was supposed to have come back that first summer after she left. I wouldn’t have cared if she kept leaving to go back to college, as long as she came back every summer and eventually stayed.

  I waited all of May that first summer for her phone call. I drove by her grandparents’ house every day, waiting to see her on their porch waiting for me. The month of June was the month I refused to give up hope, forcing myself to drive by the house, wanting to prove I was wrong. Then July, summer was half way over and she was nowhere to be seen. I knew she wasn’t coming back. Jared’s going on about what she looks like now, what they talked about, but I don’t listen. I think about the first time I saw her. It was on the beach.

  The fire crackled and the waves rushed the shoreline. Summer was here and even though it meant working constantly for Dad, nights like this were what I lived for. Friends, beers, music and the beach. The life of a Georgia resident. I took a drink of my beer and placed it on my tailgate.
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  Jared and my friend Mark were talking to a few girls who were here for a bit. I liked this situation. Jared loved the tourist girls. He fell for one each week and then promptly forgot them the next week when a new one appeared. He got a number from one of them and made eye contact with me. He gave me a quick head nod and delivered his “I’m really this charming” smile. She smiled up at him, nice and big.

  “Another one bites the dust,” I said to no one in particular.

  Jared came over then, grabbed two beers out of our cooler, and raised one to cheers mine. “I love summer,” he said and I really believed him. But hell, who didn’t love summer.

  “Check out what just walked up,” Mark said from our left. He reached in and grabbed a beer. It took me a minute, but she was there. Probably the best-looking girl I had ever seen.

  I saw long legs in short jean shorts, slender arms in a bright yellow t-shirt, and long, straight hair. It fell over her shoulders and almost down to her waist.

  “She’s hott,” Jared said. “Call her.”

  “Dude you just got that girl Beth’s number.”

  “Forget her,” Jared said and then noticed me. “Jack, you’re staring. You like her?” It wasn’t too often I got caught staring at a girl.

  “I don’t know her,” I said.

  “Whatever, man. You think she’s hot?”

  “I think she’s beautiful.” The words fell out of my mouth and I felt like a complete pansy for saying it.

  “We don’t know who she is?” Mark asked, but it was clear no one did. Everyone was staring at her, some people outright, others a little less obvious. I averted my eyes, not wanting to be one of the obvious.

  “I got this,” Jared said, and I all but groaned.

  “Hey new girl!” She was clearly uncertain about this tactic. “I won’t bite. Just want to say hi.”

  Unsure of what she should do, but not really having anywhere else to be, she made her way over to us. Jared’s not-so-subtle introduction had drawn the attention of everyone at the fire by now.