Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  “When do you head to Boston?” Lucas asked as if reading her mind.

  “Ten days.”

  “It’s been nice having you around,” he said.

  Jen stared at him. “Who are you? And what have you done with my little brother?”

  He grinned and elbowed her. “Can’t I be nice once in a while?”

  “I guess. It’s just that the last time once in a while rolled around, I think I had just graduated from high school. Or maybe middle school.”

  He elbowed her again, and they settled back into comfortable sibling silence. I wish he’d find someone to date, Jen thought for the hundredth time that summer. He’s so quiet as it is; without someone to draw him out, he could go days without speaking to a soul.

  That reminded her of someone else. Max needed some help in the extrovert department as well, though she had to admit, his whole quiet-geek-hidden-inside-the-body-of-a-god demeanor was kind of charming. Her phone dinged with a text, and she pulled it out.

  Nice view, Max had written. Wish I were there.

  Me too. She pictured him sitting beside her, toes in the sand, watching the sun go down. When are you back in LP?

  Tomorrow night.

  Jen shook away thoughts of Max sitting beside her, which somehow quickly changed to thoughts of Max touching her. Kissing her. Placing his fingers under her chin and tilting her face up to his adorable bespectacled smile.

  Did u do ur homework? she texted, cheeks flushed. Where had those thoughts come from?

  Yes but it wasn’t easy. I finally got someone from her office to ask her.

  Smart guy. She was about to add a few smiley faces when a giant figure blocked the faint light from the moon. Jen looked up.

  “Hey, Finn.”

  “Hey, beautiful.” He dropped next to Lucas and handed them both a beer. “Man, I love seeing the beach this way.” He looked around, bobbing his head to the warm-up sounds of the band. People sat everywhere, on blankets, in chairs and under umbrellas leftover from the heat of the day.

  “Me too.” Jen could still smell smoke from the bonfires scattered around them. A couple of local cops strolled by every so often, though she couldn’t recall the last time there’d ever been an arrest or even an incident down here. Her phone dinged again.

  So I have to learn “Cecilia” by Simon and Garfunkel, Max wrote. I just downloaded it.

  Simon & Garfunkel? Odd choice for someone in her mid-twenties. Jen hadn’t pegged Mikayla as the flower-child type.

  I guess her dad loves them, Max answered.

  Jen nodded. Practice it on the flight home, she typed, smiling at the vision that created. Max probably wouldn’t even talk to the flight attendant when she asked him what kind of snacks he’d like. There was no way he’d sing aloud.

  Finn leaned over her shoulder. “Practice what? Safe sex?” He grinned and licked his bottom lip, eyebrows waggling like crazy.

  Jen shoved him away. “You’re such a pig.”

  “I prefer to think of myself as sex educator for the masses,” he answered. He took a long pull on his beer.

  “Whatever.” Jen shook her head. “You still thinking about buying The Watering Hole? Maybe you could turn that into your ‘classroom’.” She made air quote marks with her fingers.

  He laughed. “Maybe I could. And yes, I’m still thinking about it.” His expression grew serious. “It would be one hell of an investment, if I could make a go of it.”

  “You could.” If anyone in town had the charisma to run a bar, it was Finn Cavallo.

  He smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then he gave her a funny look.

  “What?”

  “Just trying to figure out you and whatever you’re doing with Max.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out. And I already told you. I’m trying to get Mikayla Johnston interested in him.”

  “Uh huh. Sure. That’s why you’re spending time with him. And texting him on a Saturday night.”

  “We’re friends. I’m giving him advice. Stop trying to read something into every situation that has a male and a female together. It’s not always about sex.”

  “No. But it almost always is.” Finn gave her a sideways grin. “Just be careful what fires you’re stoking.”

  Jen shook her head. Men. But as she put her phone away, Finn’s words echoed inside her head. I’m stoking fires with Max and Mikayla, that’s all. Still, she had to admit that more than once in the last week, she’d caught herself thinking about Max in ways that had nothing to do with her plan to set him up with another woman.

  I wonder what he does to work out? She still hadn’t asked, but that body didn’t come from sitting behind a desk all day.

  I wonder what his favorite band is? she’d thought last night before falling off to sleep.

  Nuts & Bolts started playing, silencing her inner chatter, and Jen welcomed the distraction. She let the blues wash over her, tapping her fingers to the familiar music as people around them sang along. It reverberated over the water, lasting long after the final notes of each chorus.

  “Cecilia,” she thought as the music rolled into the night. Mikayla couldn’t have an easy favorite song, could she? Looked like Jen and Max had their work cut out for them.

  Chapter Nine

  “You ready?” Jen handed Max a beer and set her own rum and Coke on the table. They’d snagged the last empty spot in Shenanigan’s, which looked even more crowded than last Tuesday night.

  Max yanked the collar of his polo shirt. He’d listened to Jen’s advice and worn a pair of khaki shorts rather than jeans, showing off his muscular legs. The only problem now was his chalk-white face.

  “Scratch that. You about to throw up?” Jen leaned over the table and peered into his eyes, which swam behind dark-framed specs. She thought about asking if he’d ever considered contact lenses, but Max was one of those guys who actually looked cute in glasses.

  He shook his head but didn’t answer.

  Jen pointed at his beer. “Drink.”

  “How about I just talk to her?” he said. “That worked last time.”

  “Yes. But that was last time. You have to up your game this time.”

  He took a few sips of beer.

  “It’s just a song,” she said, hoping to reassure him. “And it’s just karaoke. No one in here cares if you can sing on key or not.”

  He glanced over to where Mikayla sat with her friends. They’d arrived a few minutes ago, and while Mikayla had waved hello, she hadn’t come over to talk to Max. Normally Jen would take that as a bad sign, but a tiny piece of her couldn’t help but think Max might be a better match for Jen herself than for Mikayla.

  Stop it! You’re helping him out as a friend. You’re leaving town in less than two weeks. She couldn’t possibly be thinking about having a relationship with Max Wainfield.

  Could she?

  She scrawled Max’s name on the slip of paper, along with his song title, then tapped her pencil on the table. She’d had such fun singing the Sonny and Cher duet with him. “You want to sing anything else? To warm up?”

  He shook his head like she’d just asked him if he wanted to go down with the Titanic.

  She ran the pencil tip along the song list. “Let’s do ‘You’re the One That I Want’ together. That’s a fun one.”

  “Ah, okay.” He hadn’t stopped staring at Mikayla. Of course, Jen couldn’t blame him, since Mikayla wore a shirt cut down to her navel that left nothing to the imagination.

  “You know that song, right? John Travolta and Olivia Newton John? From the movie Grease?”

  He nodded.

  “Hey.” She reached over and touched his hand. “You want to play hard to get. At least a little.”

  Finally, his head swiveled back in Jen’s direction. “Sorry. And yeah, I know you’re right.”

  She turned in their requests to the DJ and finished her drink. She’d only had crackers and cheese for dinner, which probably wasn’t a good idea. By the time ten-fifteen rolled
around and the DJ called their names, her stomach was rumbling and her head spinning after two rum and Cokes.

  She tucked her arm through Max’s as they walked to the stage. He pushed up his glasses and took the microphone, gripping it so tightly she was afraid he might cut off all circulation to his arm. Relax, she mouthed. It’s just a song. The first notes played, and she struck a pose, hand on hip a la Olivia Newton John after her makeover at the end of Grease. Jen had always loved that scene. Sexuality on display, totally unapologetic, the character of Sandy had given in to her inner vamp and won the boy of her dreams. What better way to live?

  The music started, and she belted out the opening lines. Max sang back in a small voice, but for the first time all night, his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled at her.

  For the next four minutes, Jen pranced around the tiny stage. Max did a couple of turns in place. When they came to the end of the song, Jen took his hand, about to take a grand bow, but instead Max pulled her onto his knee and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

  “You were great,” he said into her ear. “Thank you.”

  Her heart galloped double-time. Kiss me again, she wanted to say. And not on the cheek. Instead she ruffled his hair, and he grinned. The crowd cheered. With one strong hand on her waist, he steered her back to her feet.

  For a moment, he looked down at her, the only two silent people in the bar. “Well, here goes nothing,” he finally said, and when he walked over to talk to the DJ, she realized he meant to sing his solo right away.

  Smart guy, before he loses his nerve. Still, a sting of disappointment overwhelmed her when she turned over the microphone and returned to their table alone.

  The DJ stepped to the front of the stage. “Our next song is a special request for a special woman in the audience.” He looked over at Max, who was alternately pulling at his collar and pushing up his glasses.

  Please let him do a good job, Jen thought. And please don’t let Mikayla laugh. She’d made Max practice the song twice in the parking lot, but she wasn’t sure what might come out of his mouth at this point. She didn’t want his feelings hurt.

  The first notes started. Jen stole a glance at Mikayla, whose eyes widened as she recognized the song. She smiled and began to tap the tabletop. Then Max opened his mouth.

  At first, Jen thought he’d forgotten the words, or forgotten that the words appeared on the giant blue screen to his right. Oh no! He’s singing the wrong lyrics. She cringed inside. Then she looked at Mikayla, who was sitting up in her seat and staring at Max like he was an ice cream sundae she was about to jump headfirst into.

  Oh my God, he changed the words. Instead of singing about Cecilia breaking his heart, Max was singing about Mikayla. And he was winning over the whole damn bar in the process.

  By the time he got to the second verse, everyone was singing along, replacing Mikayla’s name for Cecilia’s, and just about everyone was staring at the table where Mikayla sat.

  Jen grabbed the closest waitress and ordered another rum and Coke, no longer caring about her empty stomach. Max moved back and forth across the stage, not exactly working the crowd, but not hiding behind the microphone either. I wouldn’t have thought of doing that. But it was working like a charm, because when he reached the final lyrics, Mikayla was on her feet and approaching the stage. Her ass wiggled, her hair bounced, and her smile would have lit up the night sky. In her eyes, maybe in the eyes of all of Lindsey Point that night, Max Wainfield had turned from dud to stud in the span of a single song.

  Holy shit, I think he may have done it. Jen gripped her new drink and downed half of it. I should be happy for him. Then why was her heart in her throat and her free hand twisting the hem of her skirt like she was in seventh grade?

  The song ended, Max stood on stage grinning, and the entire bar waited to see what would happen next. They didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, Mikayla jumped into Max’s arms and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

  Chapter Ten

  She said yes. Max typed the text message with a shaking hand, still disbelieving what had happened the night before. I asked her out for Saturday night, he added.

  He waited, but no response from Jen. Of course, it wasn’t yet nine. She was probably still in bed.

  Great job! she’d said on her way out of Shenanigan’s last night. He’d kind of hoped she’d stick around, but she’d left the bar a little before eleven.

  I need your help, he typed this time. He’d never be able to plan the perfect romantic date without Jen’s help. He waited, but she still didn’t answer. Finally he put his phone back in his pocket and crossed the parking lot. Mikayla hadn’t arrived for work yet, but to be honest, he wasn’t sure what hours she kept. Sometimes she was there when he arrived, and sometimes she showed up later.

  That will be one more thing you can ask her about, Jen’s voice said inside his head.

  Max punched the button for the elevator and wondered if he should start a list of conversation topics for Saturday night. Singing in a bar was one thing, but spending hours over dinner with the girl of his dreams would require an entirely different skill set.

  The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. He thought of the dinner he’d shared with Jen at The Cove. To his surprise, that hadn’t been awkward, not until the dancing part, anyway, and even then he hadn’t felt as though the earth was spinning away from him. Around Mikayla, he barely knew which way was up. Of course, he’d dreamed about being with Mikayla since high school. Jen had been so far out of his league he hadn’t even dreamed about her.

  His phone dinged with a text, and he pulled it out, eager for Jen’s thoughts on the matter. He owed her bigtime. He never would have guessed that singing a karaoke song would have so much impact. He pulled at his collar, recalling last night’s kiss and the way Mikayla had invited him to sit at her table the rest of the night. Of course, six other people had sat there too, but still. Progress was progress.

  This text wasn’t from Jen. Nor was it from Mikayla, though they’d exchanged numbers last night. Instead, it was from the buddy who’d set up his Chicago interview.

  Got an inside scoop, began the message. Ur getting a second interview. But here’s the catch…

  The elevator doors opened, but Max didn’t move. He stared at the tiny screen, trying to process his friend’s news. This might change everything.

  ***

  “You staying for the whole game tonight?” Finn asked as he shuffled the cards that Friday.

  “I’m not even staying for the first hand,” Jen said. She tapped her brother on the shoulder. “Dad needs to borrow your truck. He and Mom are going to a gardening show in Bluffet Edge.”

  Lucas dug his keys from his pocket. “Tell him not to come home with another dozen shrubs this time, will ya?” He turned to his friends. “‘Cause you know who ends up planting them all.”

  The guys guffawed. In the background, a ball game played. Red Sox were down two runs to the Yankees. After the pitcher loaded the bases for the second time in the game, the station cut to a commercial.

  “Live in an interesting place? Have a story to tell?” a chipper voice on the commercial asked. The curly-haired host of the small-town show appeared on the screen. This time she stood on some kind of rocky bluff with a river in the background. “Well, now’s your chance. Small Town Secrets is taking applications through the end of the month. If you’d like to see your town featured, go to our website right now and download an application…”

  “Tell you what, I’ve got a story to tell,” Finn said. He tightened his bicep and blew it an air kiss. “I’ll invite Sophie here for the gun show.” He tightened the other bicep. “Give her a personal tour while she’s in town.” He licked his bottom lip and laughed.

  “Shit, she wouldn’t give you the time of day,” Rich said.

  Lucas didn’t say a word, just inspected his cards. Jen looked back at the television, memorizing the website. Maybe she’d make these guys’ day and apply to
the show. Sure would spice up things in Lindsey Point.

  She took the keys from Lucas and turned to go. “Don’t lose too much money,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Where you heading, anyway?” Finn asked from behind.

  “Just doing a little tutoring,” she answered and left it at that.

  An hour later, Jen walked down to the beach. With Mom and Dad safely on their way to a horticulture bonanza, and Lucas playing cards with the guys, she had a solo night ahead of her. Faint thunder rumbled in the distance, and she glanced up. No clouds yet, but summer storms could roll in quickly on the Connecticut coast.

  On my way, she texted Max. She hadn’t seen him since Tuesday night, though she’d certainly thought about him. Max singing to her and adjusting his glasses in that oh-so-cute way. Max turning bright red at the mention of any type of PDA. That kiss. That song. Her hand in his. He’s a nice guy. But totally not my type. Then why had Mikayla’s reaction at Shenanigan’s bothered Jen so much? That was what she’d been trying for, what she’d planned all along.

  Funny that now she wasn’t all that glad to get the two of them together.

  Great, Max texted in return. Thanks so much for helping me.

  Of course, she lied. Can’t wait to hear how it goes. She couldn’t believe that less than two weeks had passed since she’d first spotted Max and Mikayla on the beach. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, setting the two of them up. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  She passed the lighthouse, her feet sinking into the warm sand. No bonfires lit the night sky, though one couple walked hand in hand along the surf. The moon hung low over the water, and she could hear the waves rushing to shore. Thunder rumbled again, and she wondered if she should have brought an umbrella. As she neared the keeper’s house, a blinking light caught her attention. A moment later she realized Max was waving a flashlight.