I stepped away.
“Not much math involved,” I said in a stiff voice and retreated to the register. “Machine does all the figuring for you.”
She slipped the last keychain in place, looked over at me, and flashed a smile. “Still glad.”
The bathroom door squeaked and Sue emerged, shaking the drips off her hands. “Lord, we go through the paper towels around here.” She bent down to pick up a stray price tag. “Andrew, did Daniela tell you?”
“That I’m teaching her the register? Yeah, she told me.”
“Hope you don’t mind. I’m going to be holed up again, so you two are in charge. Daniela, by the end of today, I want you capable of running this store by yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“All righty. Thanks, both of you.” She started to her office then looked back over her shoulder. “You don’t have to be bleeding out today. If you need me, knock.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
Daniela walked over to me. “Teach me.”
Magnetism vibrated off her, and I pressed my feet hard into the floor. I took a slow careful breath and opened the register with a ding. “Okay, here we go.”
She giggled. “Are you going to put your arms around me to guide my hands?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“In the movies when a guy teaches a girl how to golf or something, he always puts his arms around her and guides her. It’s a huge excuse to hug without really hugging.”
She gave me such a matter-of-fact look I didn’t know what to say. Then she burst into laughter. “Andrew! You should see your face right now.” She rubbed up against me. “Don’t worry. I won’t eat you.”
“Not worried,” I mumbled, returning to the task at hand. “You have to code into the register. Sue uses our birth dates as codes, so you just need to key it in like this.”
Standing there with Daniela brushing against me was a special kind of torture. My hands itched to touch the dark curls floating down her back, and it was only with intense concentration that I kept my fingers on the register.
By the time Sue emerged for lunch, Daniela was handling all the purchases. I’d spent time rearranging merchandise and doing some re-stocking. In truth, there wasn’t enough to keep me busy.
“She’s got it,” I told Sue.
Sue nodded. “I figured. Okay, I’m going for lunch. Daniela, why not come with me? Andrew will hold down the fort while we’re gone, and when we return, he can go.”
Daniela grabbed her sweater off the stool behind the register and left with Sue, the bell above the door chiming their departure. There were no customers, so I went to the front of the store and angled my head to peer at the ocean. From what I could tell, the surf was rough. A good day for a photo shoot. I was glad I’d tucked my camera into my backpack before leaving the house. Now I could spend my lunch hour down on the beach, hopefully getting some great shots.
An elderly couple approached the door, so I pushed it open for them. “Thank you, young man,” the gentleman said, nodding his bald head. He guided his plump companion into the store with his hand at her elbow.
“Oh my, how charming it is,” she said, looking around. She wandered to the shelf full of soap, running her chubby fingers over everything along the way. “I love these beach towns. Harold, we should come more often.”
I returned to the register and left them to browse.
When Daniela and Sue returned, the shop was full of customers. Sue greeted them warmly and smiled at me. I saw the dollar signs in her eyes and grinned back.
“Your turn for lunch, Andrew,” she said.
I retrieved my backpack, nodded at Daniela, and left. Within minutes, I was at the shore, a salty breeze on my face. I licked my lips, grabbed my camera, and set my backpack a decent distance from the surf. A flock of gulls padded around on the wet sand where the waves had left bits of seaweed and broken shells. I focused on the birds and took some shots.
The previous summer on my lunch break, I’d seen a whale. With my then-new telephoto lens, I was able to get its breath spouting up; otherwise, I don’t think anyone would have believed me. Whales in our area of the Pacific rarely came in close enough to be seen.
I’d entered the whale photos in the county fair and won first prize — a year’s worth of free desserts from Choose and Chuck. Mom still laughed about it, but I noticed she never complained about free apple pie à la mode.
The breeze picked up and a light mist began to fall, so I finished quickly and headed back to town, my sneakers wet and caked with sand. I checked my watch and saw I still had enough time to grab a sandwich at the diner. I started running. Whether I was hurrying for the sandwich or hurrying to get back to see Daniela, I wouldn’t have wanted to guess.
****
The days passed, and Daniela and I no longer worked the same shift; we only had an hour overlap every afternoon. I lived for that hour.
The following week on Wednesday, everything changed. I hated to admit it, but I spent a lot of the day counting the minutes until Daniela would show up. She was due at three, but at ten after, she still hadn’t arrived.
“She’s late,” snapped Sue on her way through the shop to her office. “I hate late.”
“She’ll be here,” I said to Sue’s back.
At three-twenty, Daniela burst through the door in tears.
“It’s over,” she cried.
The four customers in the store stared at her, their mouths hanging open. I rushed around the counter to put my arm around Daniela and lead her into the stock room. “What happened?”
“Sean. He dumped me.” She buried her face in my chest. I put my arms around her, and her sobs shook through me.
I kept one eye out to the shop in case anyone approached the register. They all appeared content to continue browsing.
Her arms circled my waist, and she held on tight. I laid my cheek on top of her head, feeling her silky brown hair on my skin, and said nothing. All I could think of right then was it was my turn. My turn to have her.
“It’s over. After ten months.” Her voice was muffled into my shirt. “He left me.”
I squeezed her, wondering what kind of fool would ever let her go. She clenched my back and her crying softened to small gasps. I kept holding her, and the feel of her body next to mine was almost unbearable.
She raised her wet face, and I saw a tear hover on her lip. Without thinking, I leaned down and kissed it away.
She stiffened but didn’t move.
“Sorry.” I dropped my arms and took an awkward step back. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She moved to me, and with slow deliberation put her arms back around my waist, again burying her face into my chest. I stood for a moment, shocked. Then exhaling with relief, I returned her hug and held her close.
“I hate him,” she muttered. “Andrew, make me forget him.”
I rocked her back and forth, shuddering with the thrill of her in my arms. She wiggled and raised her face.
“You’re so much nicer than Sean. He’d never be so tender.” She hiccupped and blinked away her tears.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” My voice took on a hard edge.
“No hitting or anything, if that’s what you mean.” She squirmed away and went to stand in the middle of the room. Her body was stiff, and from where I stood, I could feel her anger pulsating.
She swirled around. “I hate him. As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist. He’s dead.”
I narrowed my eyes and studied her. “You hate him?”
She rushed to me, hugged me again, and then looked up, smiling through her drying tears. “He doesn’t exist.” She spoke eagerly, and her arms around me were tight. “But you do. You like me, right?”
Her sudden mood switch surprised me, but I didn’t dwell on it. If hating Sean meant liking me, bring it on.
“How about after work tomorrow? You wanted to ride bikes. Remember? Will your bike fit in your trunk?” I asked.
“I think so, if I leave the trunk open. Yeah, tomorrow after work sounds good.”
I left the shop as buzzed as if I’d won a national photo contest. I didn’t even remember pedaling home, but when I got there, I noticed a strange car in the drive. Instant dread grabbed my gut.
I threw my bike against the garage and burst through the front door. “Mom?”
Silence. Only the hum of the fridge and the muffled shrieks from gulls flying above the house. “Mom?”
Her bedroom door was closed. I raised my hand to knock but froze halfway there. Did I really want to know?
My hand dropped to my side. I retreated to my room, flopped on the bed, and grabbed my computer to see what new photos had been posted on camerashoot.com. I flipped through the array without seeing a thing. Who was it in there? Did I know him? Did she know him?
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Sue’s.
“Sue’s Seaport Shoppe. How may I help you?” Daniela’s voice steadied my nerves, and I half-smiled.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Andrew? Why are you calling? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”
“About what?”
“About me.”
I was both bugged and surprised by her tone of annoyance — but then I realized what kind of day she’d had.
“Haven’t changed my mind,” I reassured her.
She exhaled deeply. “Oh, okay. Then what did you want?”
What did I want? Only to hear your voice.
“Nothing much,” I said.
She gave a small sigh. “Then I guess we should hang up.”
“I guess we should. Bye, Daniela.” I tossed my phone on the bed.
The front door slammed, so whoever was visiting had gone. Seconds later, Mom pushed open my door. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth and surveyed me.
“Andy, honey, when did you get in? I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”
I tilted my head toward the front of the house. “Kind of obvious.”
Mom sank down on the edge of my bed. “Lighten up, will you? My love life is not your concern. Besides, you’re a teenager. You should be the wild one.”
She yawned and ran both hands over her messy hair.
“Who was he?”
“You don’t know him, so never mind.”
I concentrated on my computer screen, swallowing the sharp retort that would only get her going. A sudden feeling of gratitude for Daniela rushed through me.
Mom patted my leg. “Hungry? I’ve got some frozen hamburger patties. We could thaw those out and open a can of beans or something.”
Laying my computer aside, I slid off the bed, taking care not to touch her, and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get it ready.”
****
Daniela wasn’t satisfied when we circled back to the shop after our bike ride. She wanted to stretch the date by heading to Astenia to grab some buffalo wings and a drink at some local joint called Porgy’s.
“We can leave your bike here at Sue’s, and I’ll drive you to Astenia and back.” Her mouth was set with determination, and since it meant an extra hour or two with her, I was more than happy to go along.
I did wonder why we couldn’t pick up wings at Stoger’s on the edge of Ocean Mist, but whatever. I climbed into her car and promptly bumped my head on the roof. She laughed.
“Sean isn’t as tall as you,” she said. “He never bumped his head even once.”
My brow creased. Why bring Sean up? She leaned over and kissed me, sending the pit of my stomach into a wild swirl, and I forgave her instantly. I was ready to settle in for more, but she started the car and we took off.
“Football conditioning has already started in Astenia. How about here?”
“I wouldn’t know.” I frowned. She knew I didn’t play football.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t play sports. Not even soccer?”
“Not even soccer.” There was no way I was going to bring up my photography. She’d never be impressed with something so lame.
“I used to be a cheerleader,” she went on. “Then I decided to take dance, and the schedule wouldn’t let me do both. I haven’t regretted choosing dance, though. I’ve gotten some good parts.”
“You’re a dancer? Why didn’t you mention it before?”
She laughed and flipped a stray brown curl over her shoulder. “You don’t know everything about me, Andrew.” She gazed at me from beneath her thick lashes, and I melted right into the seat.
Porgy’s was downtown Astenia. Parking was tight, but we finally found a spot around the corner from the restaurant. A drizzle was falling as we ran along the sidewalk. Daniela held her purse over her head to shield herself, and we burst through the door into a humid crowd of loud, chattering people.
I stood, breathing hard, and surveyed the group. There seemed to be a large number of muscular guys, all chowing down as if they hadn’t seen food since Christmas. Daniela shook the drips from herself with an adorable shimmy, and her brown hair swayed down her back like liquid chocolate. Within seconds, many of the guys raised their glasses or their hands dripping with barbecue sauce in greeting.
“Hey, Daniela!”
“What’s up, Daniela?”
“How’s it going?”
I stiffened. What was this?
But I knew. The Astenia football team.
My eyes darted to Daniela’s face, which was flushed and glowing. Her eyes had locked on a guy sitting at the back table, and he returned her stare. The electricity zapping through the air blasted me, and I wavered on my feet.
Sean. Of course.
I put my hand on Daniela’s shoulder and turned her toward me. “Can we talk?”
She threw her arms around me and gave me a tight hug. At least a half-dozen guys whistled and hooted. I saw her eyes flit to Sean again before I pulled her to a table away from the team.
It was a corner booth with bench seats. She slid in after me, pressing herself into my side.
“You want to order?” she asked.
I could taste the gnawing in my stomach, and I glared at her. “Are you kidding me?”
Her dark eyes widened, and her mood braked to wariness. “What do you mean?”
“Astenia’s football team, right?”
Her cheeks flashed pink, and her words gushed forth. “I know. Isn’t it crazy? How weird they’d be here at this precise moment.”
“Not weird at all.” My voice was mechanical. “You knew they’d be here. That’s why you wanted to come.”
She scooted back a few inches, and her face hardened. “How dare you throw ugly accusations at me? I would never, never do that.” Her lips puckered into a pout, and then she scooted close to me and laid her head against my shoulder.
I held myself stiff, wanting with every cell in my body to believe her.
“Andrew,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she really hadn’t known.
Someone cleared his throat, and we both looked up at Sean. He stood there, his jersey straining at every muscle. He ran his hand through spiky blond hair and his gray eyes were fixed on Daniela.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice husky.
Daniela pressed herself more firmly into my side. “I’m fine. You?” She sounded overly cheerful, yet her pinched words stretched across the table.
Sean’s eyes flickered over to me then back to her. “I’m sorry, you know.”
Daniela pulled herself up a bit taller. “Sorry? And how would I know that?”
He sighed. “’Because I’m telling you.”
I could feel the tension grab Daniela’s body. She leaned forward. “What exactly are you saying?”
Again, Sean’s eyes flickered to me before targeting her. “I said I’m sorry, and I want you back. Come on, Dani.”
I jerked alive and jumped from the booth. “Now, wait a minute.” I growled at Sean, but Daniela clutched my arm and pulled me to the bench.
/> She turned to him. “Why should I even listen to you?”
“Because I apologized, that’s why. Twice. You coming? You don’t belong with this bozo.” He held out his hand to her.
Again, I jumped to my feet. To do what, I had no idea. Was I going to take on a linebacker?
But it didn’t matter. Neither of them paid any attention to me. My part in this movie was the extra — the desperate actor who’d take on any role, no matter how miniscule, just to be in the movie.
I sank back down to the bench, and when Daniela finally tore her eyes from Sean and looked at me, I saw pity. My stomach curled inside me.
“Sorry, Andrew.” She stood and extended her hand to Sean, who grabbed it. Glancing at me again, she shrugged.
Sean put his arm around her and smashed her into his side. They departed — their feet in sync like they’d practiced the routine for years.
All the noise and bluster of waitresses, customers, clinking glasses, and animated chatter fell away. I sat in a vacuum of silence. What had just happened? My face grew hot with humiliation and anger. How could I have been so stupid?
A burly guy came up to the table. “You Andrew?” he asked in a gruff voice.
I nodded.
“I’m supposed to give you a lift back to Ocean Mist. You ready to go?”
I stood, shaking myself from the stupor that choked me.
“Got dumped, huh? Yeah, we all watched.” The guy walked with me out of the restaurant. “Tough break. Trick is, don’t let it happen twice.” He threw his head back and guffawed. “Yeah, that’s the deal. Never be dumb enough to let it happen twice.” He pointed ahead to a beat-up red truck. “That’s me.”
My heart twisted, and I tasted metal.
Don’t let it happen twice.
Don’t let it happen twice.
The words roared through me.
And at that precise moment, I resolutely set my course for the years ahead.
No, I would never, never let it happen twice.
Never.
But then I hadn’t counted on meeting Mags.
Player, an Ocean Mist Short Story Page 2