by L. B. Dunbar
As for Sarah Scott, his mother, she’d eye me like she knew my deepest secrets. I’d been in love with her son as a teen. My heart ached for him in my twenties. Now, I was thirty-six and stronger than those younger ages. Gavin would not get to me again.
“Why didn’t my sister ever mention you?” Gavin seems to wonder more to himself than to me, returning his gaze to the lake.
“Maybe because it doesn’t matter.” Gavin would have no reason to know I was here. He wouldn’t have cared anyway.
His neck twists, peering at me with piercing eyes. “You mattered to me,” he admits, surprising us both. The past tense in his statement does not go unheard, and I look away.
“What I mean is, why would she mention me to you?”
He ignores my question for his own. “How long have you lived here?” Gavin’s brows return to squeezing in question as if he’s still trying to solve a mystery.
“It’s been almost three years. I inherited the place when Leo died. We’d been coming here on summer weekends or week-long vacations most of Gee’s life.” Fondly, I recall the times spent here before Leo died, watching Gee grow to love this place as much as me. “When Patrick passed, I needed a change of scenery, and I thought it would be good for Gee.”
At the time, I wasn’t certain it would be good for Gee. He was nine and just lost his father after a rough bout of pancreatic cancer. He’d been confused and hurt, sad and angry. He didn’t understand how God could take people away from him. Gee didn’t remember Gertie as he was only a baby when she passed away, but he remembered Leo as the grandfather he never had and was equally distraught at the loss of him. Leo was actually his great-great-uncle. My mother hadn’t been much of a dedicated grandmother. She practically disappeared when I decided to move here. She lives in Florida now.
“I’m sorry again about your husband.” His continued apologies are unnecessary.
“Cancer sucks,” I mutter.
“Yeah. My mother has it.” Sorrow fills his words.
“I know,” I whisper. His head pops up again.
“How?”
Dismissing further explanation, I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s sad either way.”
Gavin continues to stare at me, wondering about the unanswered question, but I’m not giving him more details. Something more important is pressing on me, and I lick my lips. I need to tell him something, but as many times as I’ve practiced this in my head, I just can’t find the words. He has a right to know. Patrick always said that, but I hadn’t known where Gavin was, and even when I had better access to finding him, I still hadn’t inquired about him. Something always held me back.
“I should check on Gee,” I say instead of what’s really on my mind. Hitching a thumb over my shoulder, I point in the direction of the house as the front door swings open. I turn to see Theo exiting my place. He saunters up to me with all his seventeen-year-old swagger and hooks his arm over my shoulder. With blond hair around his ears and curling up on his neck, plus soft blue eyes, he’s a teenage heartbreaker in the marking.
“Going out, babe.” He teases me, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
“Where are you going?” I softly demand.
Theo laughs. “Just a party down the street.”
“That wouldn’t happen to be at the Carter’s house?” Gavin interjects, and Theo’s eyes narrow on him.
“Maybe? Who are you?” His arm over my shoulder tightens, protective of me as his aunt. It’s sweet while unwarranted. Over the years, being up at the lake, I’ve grown attached to my cousin’s son. He has a wild spirit and reminds me so much of Gavin.
“I’m Gavin.” He holds out a hand to shake Theo’s, and Theo stares at the outstretched offering.
“Theo,” I hiss, knowing he has better manners than he’s displaying.
“Just kidding, man.” Theo laughs, clutching Gavin’s hand with his. “Nice to meet you.”
I don’t miss the subtle arched brow as Theo turns back to me, wondering about this Gavin person standing on the edge of the property.
“Home by midnight,” he states before pressing another kiss to my cheek and taking off toward the road. He’s such a good kid. I don’t even have to give him a curfew because he just gives one to me.
“Who is that?” Gavin snaps, and I turn back to him, taken aback by his sharp question.
“He’s Duke’s son. You remember Duke, right?”
“Of course, I remember Duke.” Gavin chuckles, bringing up his own memories of my cousin, who was Gavin’s friend back in high school.
“Anyway, Theo is staying with me this summer. Duke is getting a divorce.” It’s all so reminiscent of my own situation. I was sixteen when my mom and dad were separating. My mother needed a break, and I didn’t want to be around their constant fighting. Uncle Leo agreed to take me in just as I agreed to take Theo.
“Jesus, for a second there, I thought he was the man in your life.” The comment feels strange and gives me the shivers. Theo is half my age and a relative. However, I’d been almost half of Patrick’s age when I married him.
“I’m sorry to hear that about Duke,” Gavin breaks into the reminder.
Dismissively waving, I chuckle. “Don’t be. No one ever liked her. As for Theo, just ew, Gavin. He’s a kid and like a second child to me.”
Gavin swipes a hand through his hair, making it stand up a bit. “I’m sorry about that, but you still look like a fucking teenager, so who knows.”
I laugh despite the unsettling thought. “I’m more in the MILF category although I can’t think of any boys who’d be interested in this.” I wave a hand down my body.
Gavin anxiously chuckles. “I bet they all want a chance.”
My mouth falls open at the wrongness of his comment.
“Not like that.” He laughs. “Just, Jesus, Brit, you’re still hot as—”
On that note, I raise a hand to stop him.
“You mentioned you have a man in your life, though.” His voice lowers, eyes narrowing at me, leaving the comment hanging like he wants to know more.
“And that’s why I should get inside now. It was great to see you again,” I say, meaning it a little more. He’s still such a flirt and too good-looking for his own good.
“I’d love to see you again while I’m in town,” Gavin states, persistent in his asking. As I’ve just said, I have a man in my life, so it seems inappropriate for him to ask such a thing.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Gavin still faces me, practically begging me to accept.
I bitterly huff. “Gavin, come on. It’s been a million years, and I can’t do this.” I wave between us. “You and I are in different worlds.”
“Who’s talking about worlds? Just dinner. Drinks? Come to my film.” He pleads for anything, but I’m not giving in.
“It’s just not a good idea, Gavin. I wish you tremendous luck with your screening.” I truly want the best for him. He lived a good life with his baseball career. Whatever this new endeavor might be, he’ll be successful again. However, I don’t have time for the Gavin who flits into and out of my life.
“Good night, Gavin.” My hand reaches out for his chest, hesitating. The pull of his dress shirt. The fit of his pants. His body is calling to mine, but I can’t take the bait. Instantly, I drop my hand and nod at him before turning for my small house and entering without glancing back.
Take 8
Scene: TeasMe! Tea Shop
[Britton]
“You work here?”
The strong masculine voice breaks my concentration on measuring out fresh tea leaves, and I spill them, missing the cup as I turn to glance over my shoulder at my newest customer.
“Gavin.” I exhale on his name, surprised to find him standing in my shop. Quickly, I recover myself and return to completing Mrs. Drummond’s order. I ring up the former schoolteacher and current librarian, who nods at Gavin. She narrows her eyes at his interruption of some story she was tel
ling me when I started making her Morning Sunrise Tea, a special blend. The green tea doesn’t have as much caffeine as other teas, but it’s still a fantastic morning drink as it’s light and sweet.
“Thank you, Mrs. Drummond,” I call after her as she exits through the screen door of TeasMe!, sending a second glance back at Gavin like she recognizes him but can’t place him.
“Mrs. Drummond? That old bat was my teacher in sixth grade. She hated me.” Gavin laughs.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, dismissing his memory.
“First, tell me how you work here.” He looks around the shop. A wood cabinet with bins of fresh tea leaves for customers to self-serve measure stands near two tables for sitting on one side of the door. The cabinet’s upper portion displays an array of tea items from cups to kettles and tea-inspired decorations. On the other side of the door is a small sitting area, complete with a couch and two chairs plus a low table. Our pre-packed bundles are on display near that area with more tea accessories. The interior of the place is simple with dark hardwood floors, bright white walls, and dim sunlight through the front two windows that bracket the front door. At the counter, I serve tea both morning and afternoon, along with an arrangement of pastry items. Scones are our specialty. For special occasions, like bridal showers or birthday parties, we host high tea although the space is small for such a thing.
I don’t just work here. “I own this place,” I proudly state to him. It’s been a labor of love and a passion since moving back to the area.
Gavin’s mouth falls open as his eyes scan the place a second time before returning to me. “What happened to ballet?”
Nervously, I wipe my hands along the half apron over my skirt.
“It’s not that I don’t do ballet. I still take barre classes, but I haven’t danced professionally in years.”
Gavin notes the stiffness of my voice, and his eyes narrow. “Why?” Gavin knew my dreams as I knew his. I’d seen a stage production of The Nutcracker one Christmas, and it was all I could think about for years. I wanted to dance professionally with the New York Ballet or Joffrey Ballet in Chicago. When an audition never happened, I took the dance position with Dance Midwest downstate, finding fulfillment in just being able to dance every day. However, life got in the way of continuing my career.
Gee’s life, that is.
“Gee was born.” It’s just that simple.
“And what about this place?” His brow creases, proving he doesn’t understand, and I have left out the fine details.
“When Patrick died, I wanted a change of scenery, as I told you last night. Leo was getting older, and I wanted to be closer to him. Gee and I moved here, and I decided to open this place.” I leave out the fact Patrick knew I’d need something in my life after he passed. He helped me as best he could set things in place before he went, should I want this adventure.
“I don’t remember you being into tea,” he says, and I shake my head. He’s isn’t letting anything go.
“I’m sure you don’t remember lots of things about me, and as it’s been years, a person is allowed to change.”
I hadn’t always been into tea, but Gertie was into a holistic lifestyle, and I’d taken up drinking tea when I was pregnant. It helped settle my stomach and restlessness at night. Thoughts of my difficult pregnancy clash with Gavin’s presence.
“Of course, a person can change,” he says, a sting to his tone. He swipes a hand through his hair. “I’m just surprised.” He looks around again. “By so many things.”
I don’t think he means just my tea shop, and before I can stop myself, I ask, “Like what?”
He shrugs, turning back at me. “Everything.” His dark eyes are black tea with a hint of sugar as he stares at me longer than necessary.
Thankfully, Jenna exits the backroom, saving me from the staring contest. She has beautiful dark skin and deep, soulful eyes. Her puffy lips curl as she eyes Gavin. She quickly turns her back on him but catches my eye. “Wow,” she mouths, but I shake my head at her.
Jenna Davis is a great summer addition to my store as she’s a teacher the other months of the year. Other than her constant attempts to set me up on dates, we have a great relationship as friends.
“Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“Maybe he wants tea,” Jenna sarcastically speaks for Gavin, looking at me like I’m silly for asking the obvious.
“Actually, I was just walking through town to my brother’s girlfriend’s place.” Gavin points over his shoulder, and I note the clothing store across the street. “She owns Fabulously Flawed.”
“I love that place,” Jenna states, laying it on a bit thick as she leans on the counter, letting her eyes lift and lower over Gavin’s physique. He’s picture-perfect in jeans and a dress shirt again. I’ve seen him in nothing else so far, which is a big change from the teen in shorts and tees and a man in a hotel room who wore nothing for two days.
“Yeah, Ella’s great.” Gavin’s eyes remain on me, and I decide to fix him a black tea regardless of the fact he hasn’t ordered anything. “But the real reason I’m here is to ask you to attend my film tonight.”
I almost pour hot water over my own hand, drifting outside the cup for a second before looking up at him.
“What?” I gasp.
“What film?” Henry Santos, my other employee asks, stepping through the entrance to the back. Henry is roughly mid-thirties and, unfortunately for him, between jobs. With his blond hair and dark eyes, he looks more like a surfer than the professional he once was. His big city business had significant layoffs in the spring, and Henry, like me, decided a change of pace might do him good.
“I’m showcasing a film at the festival in Traverse City.” I don’t know if it’s some strange guy code, but Gavin eyes Henry as if saying help a guy out. Fortunately, Gavin doesn’t need to ask Henry because Jenna is all over the suggestion.
“A filmmaker.” Jenna draws out the word, like isn’t that interesting—the most interesting thing she’s ever heard—and she tips her head to emphasize her excitement. She actually nods in Gavin’s direction as if Gavin can’t see this entire interchange of Jenna pushing me on Gavin.
“I can’t. I have Gee.” It’s a simple enough excuse and the one I use often. I don’t date because of my son.
“Ask Theo to babysit,” Henry interjects, reminding me of his presence. “That’s what he’s here for as your summer boy.” He winks at me, knowing Theo is not here to be at my beck and call. “Or I’ll come hang with the little beast.”
Henry doesn’t care for children.
“Thank you, Henry, but no.” I turn back to Gavin, holding out the cup of tea, and speak. “And thank you for the invite, but I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” There isn’t much difference, but Gavin seems to think there is.
Suddenly, the bell over the door jingles, and another customer enters.
“Hello, beautiful.”
I bristle at the greeting, and Jenna groans next to me.
“Good morning Gabe,” I mutter, wondering what’s worse—Gavin finding me here or Gabe Carpenter entering. The answer comes quickly. Gabe. He doesn’t live in the area but visits his parents often enough, and upon discovering my tea shop and remembering me from summers long ago, he makes it his mission to enter my shop whenever he’s in town and ask me out.
“Gabe?” Gavin questions, looking from Gabe to me and back again. There isn’t a lot of contrast between the men in their appearance. Both have dark hair and eyes. Both wear a dress shirt and expensive shoes, but it’s the aura of the two that separates them. Gavin is all arm porn, sexy jeans commercial in his apparel while Gabe is just what he is, a stuffy lawyer from Detroit. “Gabe Carpenter?”
Gavin’s jaw drops a second, and Gabe turns to him, taking in the man before him. He’s waiting on an introduction or recognition, and Gavin finally offers.
“Gavin Scott.” A knowing smile crosses Gavin’s face. Gabe hit on me once that summer when we were t
eens. Gavin and I were outside the ice cream shop, and Gabe tried to ask me out, insulting me actually by saying that when I wanted to upgrade from the local player, he’d be willing and waiting for me. I’d been so upset at the implication that I would pass myself around the local boys, I dropped my ice cream on his foot. Gavin thought it was epic, and I’d done it on purpose. I hadn’t, but I didn’t regret it. I also hadn’t forgotten about that moment, although Gabe apparently did.
“No shit,” Gabe states, holding out a hand to shake Gavin’s. The irony in their greeting is they were never friends, at least not that I remember of that summer. “Good to see you.”
Gavin nods without offering the same compliment.
“What brings you home?” Gabe asks, holding his position by the counter.
“He’s a filmmaker,” Jenna offers, proudly speaking before Gavin can. With his mouth open, Gavin quickly shuts it upon Jenna’s explanation.
“Ah, right. The big shot baseball player turned movie star.” Gabe seems to know a thing or two about Gavin, which doesn’t surprise me. “Sorry about your arm.”
“I’m not a movie star,” Gavin mutters, growing a bit defensive. His brows pinch in irritation at Gabe’s presence. “And it was my wrist.” It’s almost as if I can see Gavin thinking, wrestling to piece the puzzle together.
“Well, good to see you can still use it.” Gabe’s eyes lower for Gavin’s hand, holding the cup of tea, and Henry snorts. I’m missing something, but Gabe turns back to me.
“So, about that date?”
“What date?” Gavin questions, his eyes narrowing on me again. If I thought Gavin could send me telepathy, his thoughts would be, you’ve got to be shitting me. Instantly, I read what he’s thinking. Gabe Carpenter is the man I said I had. I could play this to my advantage, but I just couldn’t find anything about Gabe attractive. I’m not the one who’s an actress, so I can’t fake this.
“I’m sorry, Gabe. I can’t tonight.” I’ve been running slim on rejection reasons as Gabe never takes the hint. Then a new excuse strikes before I can stop myself. “I’m going to see Gavin’s film tonight.”