Love on the Sound

by Matthews, Jamie

  “Me, too.” Steve gave him a big grin—also starting to feel the effects of the beer, Ben noted. Steve had always been an easy drunk. “Next time you are an asshole we are flying to L.A. and interventioning your ass.”

  Ben chortled, almost spitting out his beer, as did Steve, and Lucas shook his head. “You two are such lightweights.” He leaned forward. “So listen, do you want advice? Or do you want to just hang out and bullshit?”

  “I think,” Ben said, looking up at the clouds that were starting to pile up on the horizon, “that I just want to hang out today.”

  “Good.” Lucas leaned back. “Because I have no fucking idea what to tell you.”

  They all laughed, and Ben dug into the bag for more popcorn. He closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat and the feel of the sun on his face. It was, he thought, the best day he’d had in a long, long time.

  ***

  “Oh my God,” Steve groaned as he lowered himself into the deck chair on the back porch. “I might explode.”

  Amy laughed and moved along the porch railing, lighting the candles. “I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but I don’t have a crumb left.”

  “It was really good,” Ben assured her as he lurched through the french doors—not quite as steady as he’d have liked after an afternoon of beers and then more with dinner at the local pub.

  “You can’t go wrong with chocolate cake,” Lucas said. He plopped down in a chair next to Ben. He tipped his face up to the cold breeze. “That feels so fucking good.”

  “Excuse me.” Ben nodded at Amy. “I mean, excuse him.”

  “I’ve heard it before,” she reassured him.

  “How did you get sunburned?” Steve asked, started to laugh again. Ben chuckled, and then laughed some more at the glare Lucas shot both of them.

  “It was only sunny half the day, man,” Ben chugged the last of his beer.

  “He’s so delicate,” answered Steve and doubled over laughing.

  “You two are idiots,” said Lucas, not bothering to open his eyes.

  Ben shot a look over at Amy, who didn’t trouble to hide her amusement. When she reached over to take his empty beer glass, he held out a hand to stop her. “Stay, hang out with us for a while.”

  “Yeah, there’s a spot right here.” Steve patted the chair next to him, sounding entirely too enthusiastic for Ben’s comfort.

  “No, I—” Amy started to say, when Lucas gave her a pleading look.

  “Please, it would be a pleasure to talk to someone intelligent.” Lucas tried to look dignified. The effect was ruined when “pleasure” came out as “pelshur.”

  Ben snorted. “You’re toasted.”

  Lucas looked over. “You can’t even sit upright.”

  Ben looked down at himself and noted that he was, indeed, sprawled out over the chair as if his limbs were made of rubber. “It’s comfortable.”

  “We’ve got stories about Ben,” Steve coaxed Amy. “Blackmail worthy.”

  “No, no.” Ben shook his head and watched the stars spinning around in the sky above. He focused with difficulty on Amy and tried to look solemn. “They’re liars.”

  Amy looked at him, then back at Steve. She laughed, and gave in, taking a seat next to Steve. “Now I’m curious,” she said, folding her legs Indian style.

  Lucas poured her a glass of wine—only spilling a few drops—and passed it to her, almost falling out of his chair.

  “I’m sorry.” Steve leaned over the arm of the chair towards her and then just stayed there. “Are we being obnoxious?”

  She patted him on the arm. “You’re fine. Actually, you made my dessert hour a success—the three of you completely entertained my other guests. Now, how about those stories you mentioned?”

  “Don’t forget, I know stories about both of you, too,” Ben said as Lucas started to speak.

  Lucas ignored him and began to tell Amy the story of how Ben spent an entire two weeks attending class dressed as a homeless man—dirt, unshaven face, ragged clothes and all.

  “He told the teachers that he was Method acting after landing the role in a community theater play.” Lucas grinned over his glass of wine.

  “But, really, he hadn’t. He just wanted to see how long he could get away with it.” Steve laughed at the memory. “It took two weeks before the drama teacher, who’d been away on leave, returned and ratted him out.”

  “But, not before I’d talked most of the theater department into doing the same,” Ben pointed out. “And, you.”

  “I was a zombie.”

  “Makeup and all,” clarified Lucas. “My parents wouldn’t let me get away with my costume—I was planning on being a pirate.”

  “What he didn’t mention is that his girlfriend at the time thought it would be ‘uncool’—that was the main reason he wussed out.” Ben rolled his eyes at Amy. “He broke up with her a week after the whole thing was over anyway, just like he always did.”

  “Our Lucas, he was a heartbreaker.” Steve shook his head.

  Amy stretched her legs out and held a hand over her glass when Lucas offered to refill her wine. “You guys had me expecting some story of how Ben here raised hell all over town and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, but that was pretty harmless.”

  “Oh, we have more.” Steve grinned at Ben, who just shook his head.

  They regaled Amy with stories from their childhood and high school days—the time the three of them “borrowed” Steve’s parent’s car and wrecked it trying to race a car full of hot girls, the time Ben flashed the entire school during a spirit assembly…the stories went on and on, but Ben thought Amy was enjoying them. Her cheeks were flushed from the wine, and she’d tucked her legs up underneath her, occasionally laughing.

  “I’m out,” Steve said suddenly, getting up and weaving his way to the door. “G’night.”

  Amy looked after him with concern. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s always been like that,” Ben said, watching as the porch spun around her. She was so pretty. “One minute he’s the life of the party, and then it hits him.”

  “His timer popped out, and he’s done.” Lucas yawned. “He’ll go up to his room and pass out—he’ll be fine. I’m going to head up too. Call the wifey.” He snickered a little.

  “Kissey, kissey,” Ben called after him and laughed when Lucas just ignored him. He looked over at Amy, who was swirling the last bit of wine in her glass. “Thanks.”

  She tilted her head. “For what?”

  “For the dessert, for coming out here with us, for letting me stay…” He trailed off, letting his head flop back on the chair. “You’re so great. This was such a great day. So great.”

  Amy laughed. “Uh huh. How about I help you upstairs?”

  “Don’t need help but okay.” He had to lean on her a bit to get out of the chair—maybe he did need help—and slung his arm around her waist as she guided him to the door. “So pretty.”

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she agreed. “Cold though.”

  “No,” he said, blinking as she propelled him through the door and into the kitchen. Wow, the room was really spinning around him, and her face bobbed up and down when he looked at her. “You’re pretty.”

  He lurched towards her and planted a big kiss on her lips.

  “Oops.” Lucas stood in the doorway and hesitated. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Amy laughed and shoved Ben away with one hand against his chest. He almost fell over, and she had to catch him, which made her laugh more. “You’re not interrupting.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes, not sure why she was laughing. Hadn’t he just kissed her? Maybe he only thought about kissing her. Yeah, that was it. Still, she seemed awfully amused.

  “I came to drag his ass upstairs.” Lucas wobbled forward and nodded, with the extreme dignity only the very drunk can muster. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” Amy called after them, as leaning on each other, they weaved their way up the stairs.

/>   Somehow, Ben found himself in his room, where Lucas shoved him onto the bed without ceremony and left. He lay on his back and watched the stars spin through the window, which was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.

  Chapter 13

  As hangovers go, it wasn’t the worst he’d had. Waking up to the sound of the ocean crashing and the salty breeze billowing the curtains helped. Ben let the hot shower spray clear his foggy head, and with a yawn, shut off the water. As he toweled off, he reflected that unlike his other recent hangovers, he didn’t have the memories of colossally stupid behavior to mourn. And, Amy would probably be preparing breakfast—the thought of hash browns and cheesy eggs sounded like heaven, even though his stomach was a bit queasy. If he could just make it down the stairs to get coffee—

  Ben stopped in the midst of toweling his hair, and frowned when the thought of Amy teased a memory forward. That had been a dream, right? He’d just dreamed he’d planted a big sloppy one on her. Then Lucas had dragged him upstairs, and they’d laughed as they tried to unlock the door. Ben had been really insistent that Lucas watch him take off his shoes…for some reason it had seemed important that his friend properly appreciate how neatly he was going to put them in the closet.

  Which, now that he thought about it, wasn’t such an unbelievable dream. Frowning, he walked naked out of the bathroom and scrutinized the room. No shoes. Shit. He closed his eyes, praying for the aspirin to kick in and took a deep breath, marched over to the closet. Sure enough, there were his shoes, lined up under the luggage rack.

  Maybe that had been real, and he’d just dreamed the kiss part? Ben threw on a pair of jeans and shrugged a t-shirt over his head. He ran his hands through his hair, and slid his feet into flip flops. Steve wouldn’t remember anything about last night. Lucas, however, would remember every painful detail—although he might bite his head off. He shut his room door softly behind him, and oh, thank God. Amy had left carafes of coffee outside all three of their doors. The woman was a saint.

  He took the first few slugs directly out of the carafe, not bothering with the mug. The caffeine eased the dryness in his mouth, and he could almost feel it clearing the clouds from his mind. Ben knelt down, wincing at the pounding at his temples and poured Lucas a cup, added some cream from the tray Amy had provided, and knocked—softly.

  While he waited, he poured himself a cup and stood there patiently, sipping, until Lucas finally opened the door a crack.

  “Fuck off,” he said, his voice hoarse, eyes bloodshot.

  Ben handed him the coffee, and Lucas sighed, downed half of it in one gulp. When he started to close the door, Ben blocked him. “Man, I’m dying here,” Lucas pleaded. “Gotta shower.”

  Ben held up the carafe. “I have more coffee.”

  Lucas eyed him, then the coffee and drained the rest of his cup. He sighed, and leaned against the doorjamb. “For God’s sake, let’s talk later.”

  “Just have one question.” Ben held the coffee out of reach. “Last night—”

  Lucas groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “When you came down to get me, before we went to bed?” Ben persisted.

  “Yeah.” Lucas closed his eyes, leaned his head against the door. “After you kissed Amy?”

  “Shit,” Ben hissed. “Goddammit. Was she mad?”

  Lucas lunged and grabbed the carafe. “I have no fucking idea. We’ll conduct your therapy session later.” He shut the door in Ben’s face.

  Ben cursed himself. He slowly bent down and picked up his tray of coffee. Probably just the type of behavior Amy expected out of him—arrogant, aggressive…he remembered thinking she looked really cute, but still. She looked cute all the time. No excuse, you idiot.

  The door opened behind him as he was taking a deep breath to motivate himself to go downstairs.

  “No.”

  Ben turned and looked at Lucas.

  “She didn’t look mad. I think she thought it was funny.” With that, Lucas shut the door again.

  Ben sighed and bracing himself, headed downstairs, feeling his head throb a bit with each step. It was just near the end of the breakfast hour, and from the looks of the dining room—a few plates scraped clean on the table, newspapers scattered around—most of the other guests had already eaten and gone. Good. He made his way back to the kitchen, where Amy sat at the island, her bare feet curled around the rungs of the stool, her hand absently toying with her hair as she read the comics section of the paper. She looked up when he entered, and a smile curved her lips.

  “Good morning. Are you able to join the land of the living, or do you want me to be quiet while you whimper in peace?” She looked him up and down, seeming to assess his condition, and her eyes were just a little too amused for Ben’s taste.

  “I’m okay. Thanks for the coffee.” He set the tray down on the island and took a seat across from her, trying his best to meet her eyes when he really wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. The memory of kissing her before he stumbled up to bed was flashing back in technicolor glory now. “Lucas is the one who will suffer all day. Steve, he’s the opposite.”

  As if to prove his point, a door upstairs slammed, and a cheery whistle came floating down the stairs, followed by jaunty footsteps. With that, Steve bounced into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower, his eyes clear and alert. And, there went his chance to apologize, Ben thought. Maybe it was just as well.

  “Morning, all! Beautiful day.” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “Let’s sit in the booth and check out the ocean. Is that okay?” He shot a charming smile towards Amy.

  “Of course.” She seemed a bit taken aback but quickly recovered to rattle off the breakfast offerings for the day.

  “I’m starving. The omelet sounds awesome. Maybe some OJ, too?” Steve made his way to the window and looked out at the gray skies, the choppy sea.

  Ben felt his stomach roll a bit, and he took another sip of coffee. “Just the plain scrambled for me.”

  Amy smiled knowingly and nodded.

  “Aw, hungover, bro?” Steve turned from the window and winked at Amy. “Some guys just can’t hold their liquor. At least you didn’t sing any show tunes.”

  To his horror, Ben felt his cheeks actually turn red as he thought about what he had done instead. He called up all of his acting skills and managed a laugh. “You did, though,” he told Steve, knowing that his friend wouldn’t have any memory of the night before.

  Steve just shrugged. “Whatever. I never believe him,” he confided to Amy, who was struggling to keep a straight face. “He and Lucas always lie to me to punish me because I have a gift.”

  “A gift, huh?” Amy cracked several eggs into the bowl.

  “The gift of never being hungover.” Steve stretched his long arms and sighed contentedly. “Smell that ocean air. It’s the best. Gotta admit, Ben, you picked a great vacation spot.”

  Ben grabbed his coffee and took a seat at the banquette by the window, where he wouldn’t be tempted to check out Amy’s butt as she prepared breakfast. And, her slightly muscled arms as she whipped the eggs. He buried his face in the steam rising from his coffee cup and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He was saved from any further thoughts when Lucas walked into the room with the shuffling, hesitant step of an old man.

  “Morning,” he mumbled. Ben knew he’d only made that token effort because of Amy. He slid into the booth across from Ben and leaned back, closed his eyes.

  “Toast?” Ben asked quietly and couldn’t help but smile when Lucas held up one finger in their old signal. One for yes, two for no.

  He looked over at Steve. “The usual?” Steve asked and when Ben nodded, he relayed the order to Amy. “Can you get him some plain buttered toast first? He’ll say he doesn’t want anything else, but if you made that farmer’s scramble after he eats the toast, he’ll eat it. Then he won’t be so horrible the rest of the day.”

  “Got it.” Amy grabbed a loaf of bread and began to slice. Steve sat at the
island and chattered away. Her occasional laugh drifted over to Ben, and he relaxed slightly, glad to sit with Lucas and be quiet.

  Once he’d nibbled on the toast Amy brought over, Lucas opened his eyes and rubbed his temples.

  “I’m too old for that shit,” he admitted, taking another sip of what had to be his fourth cup of coffee.

  “I hear you.” Ben watched the seagulls swoop and rise over the waters of the Sound. “A few years ago, we could have drank like that and still partied on today.”

  Lucas shuddered. “Ugh.”

  “Of course, you’re a dad now, so you’re older than us by default,” Ben pointed out with a wicked smile.

  Lucas rolled his eyes, but his face brightened. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “How about that?”

  Ben looked across the table at his friend, remembered the tall, skinny boy he’d known in high school, saw the man with laugh lines around his eyes, streaks of gray starting to form at his temples. “Yeah,” he agreed as they shared a smile. “How about that?”

  Steve joined them, his breakfast plate in hand, and Amy followed.

  “Enjoy,” she said with a smile, and then left them in peace. Ben heard the sound of clinking plates in the dining room as she began to clear up.

  “So, lads, what’s the plan for today?” Steve shoveled a huge bite of eggs into his mouth.

  “I want to take a look at Ben’s books,” Lucas announced, eyeing his eggs dubiously.

  “Eat,” advised Ben. “You didn’t bring anything to read?”

  “Not those books. Your finances. To see if you’re getting robbed blind or not.” Lucas took a tiny bite, paused, seeming to wait to see if his stomach would accept it. “Please God tell me you have access to your books.”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Ben retorted. “I have access.” It was just a matter of remembering how…there were some online accounts and passwords. Weren’t there?

  “Wow, that sounds super thrilling,” Steve said dryly. “I was thinking more along the lines of visiting Friday Harbor. There’s this historic hotel there where Teddy Roosevelt once stayed.”