Page 13 of Return to Cheshire Bay
Nexttime, I’d goin armedwith more cash just to have her think she’d caught me off guard.Even if it was more than that.
Erichanded me a bag of lettuce. “I’m going to have a few people overtonight and have a fire out on the beach. You’rewelcome to come join me.Us, I mean.” The invite lingered in the air.
A firewould be great, and I certainly enjoyed Eric’s company, but therewould be others, andafter today… “I don’t know.” I searched his face foranswers.
“If ithelps, they’re friends ofmine.”
“Willthey remember me?” Itwas a terrible thing to ask because it sounded like I wasself-centered.
Fifteenyears ago, I was a horribly shallow bitch, but no one seemed tounderstand how that was a long time ago,and sometimes stupid people did selfish things andyet grow up to be decent adults.
“Unlikely, since most of them are relatively new, as insince we became adults.” He shrugged and passed me a bag of bagels.“Sylvia’s has much nicer, and larger, bagels.”
“I know,I just forgot.” I stared out my kitchen window,right into the side of Eric’s but Icouldn’t bare to look at him.
“Youokay?”
“Yeah.I’m just peachy.” I hung my head for a moment to catch my breathand ground myself. Shaking off the pity party building, Iturnedslowly andinhaled to a count of five. “What do you think of the paint job? Doyou think the colour works?”
His gaze rakedme in, but he refocused on the freshly painted wall. “Looks great.This the same colour you used upstairs?”
“All insidewalls have this smoke colour, yep.”
“I likeit.” He stepped around apile of books and a table full of old knickknacks, nearly fallinginto the sofa to avoid it all. “What are you doing with thisstuff?”
“Don’tknow. I’ll probably pack up most of it since it doesn’t meananything to me. I tend to be a minimalist and clutter hurts my soul on a level mostwouldn’t understand.”
He laughed.“Don’t take too long a look at my place then.”
Ithadn’t been that bad when I was there. Sure, it was a littlecluttered, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Not like how I feltlooking at my own living roomin its current condition.
“I assure you,it was fine.”
A buzzersounded from the back of his jean pocket. “Oops. I gotta run. Ihave a charter flight leaving in an hour for Seattle. I’ll be backfor the bonfire tonight. WhileI’m gone, consider joining us?” His offer was so sweet, aswas the gentle pleading tone he used. “We’re a tame bunch – too oldto truly party it up.”
Thatalone tipped the scales in his favour, but I wasn’t about to givein yet.“I’ll thinkabout it.”
“It’s a start.”He gave me a little wave and the screen door banged as heleft.
ChapterSix
By timethe sun set, I had four boxes packed tightly with useless books andtrinkets, and my bookcases were rearranged in an acceptable order,with the correct ratioof stacked books to knickknacks. I stood back and admired thehandiwork, taking a picture to send to Beth. With the blinds pulleddown, and the ambient lighting in the living room, the area had asoft yet useable appeal to it. A place I could curl up with a bookand watch the rolling ocean or entertain a couple of friendlypeople, should it be raining. Yep, as a whole, I was happy with theway the living room looked. It was starting to feel like a home,and not a vacation home.
Footsteps jumped up onto my back deck and a knuckle cracked against theframe.
An imageof Parker had suddenly appeared, but I blinked it away andfocused.“Eric.”
My hand fellto my chest as a bolt of adrenaline coursed through my body.
“Did yougive any more thought to coming out? We just got the fire going.” Long gone was the dressshirt and khakis from earlier and in its place, he wore shorts anda V-neck tee. Saturday night bonfire attire.
“Is itthat time already?” Truly, I’d lost track of it while reorganizing items that no longerhad much relevance, even Mona wouldn’t want them, and she kept justabout everything. “You know, I haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Perfect.There’s hotdogs and marshmallows.”
Ew. Marshmallowswere gross, but the idea of having a hotdog sounded fantastic. Ihadn’t had one in years. I weighed the option of staying inside andavoiding the desire to look outside and spy on my grown-upneighbour, or just sucking up what will be and getting it overwith. Eric’s friends were bound to know who I was, and if theydidn’t, they would soon enough. Rumours circulated and whispersfollowed.
Mywarring debate would’ve gone on longer if not for the sweet smileplastered on Eric’s chiselled face, and the light lean on my door frame thatsuggested he could outwait me or find another endearing way ofasking. I didn’t deserve the olive branch he was constantlyoffering, based on the past, but I was thrilled he hadn’t given up.It warmed my heart knowing I had a friend here.