Chapter 11 #3
“Getting chowder, same as you.” She smiled as she pointed to his empty bowl and then she perched on the stool.
She’d only ever seen him wearing plaid flannel shirts over dark-colored tees; he was so handsome in his forest green Aran sweater.
Touching his sleeve, she said, “This is a nice look on you.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Excuse me. That’s my seat.”
Caitlin turned to apologize to the customer, a tall, blond woman. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was still taken.” She quickly slid off the stool and stood beside Shane, speaking into his ear so she wouldn’t have to shout, “Are you planning to hang out here a while longer?”
She figured if he had ordered something else, she’d stay to eat her chowder here while it was piping hot and freshly served.
But if he was done, she could avoid a bone-chilling wait at the bus stop by taking him up on his offer to give her a ride any time.
She pulled back to meet his eyes, but before he could answer, the woman poked Caitlin in the shoulder again.
“Do you mind ?” she asked loudly when Caitlin wiggled a semi-turn to face her. “We’re on a date here and you’re in the way.”
“Oh!” gasped Caitlin, utterly chagrined. Shane had told her this was one of his favorite places to eat alone, or to catch a game on TV, and she just assumed that’s what he was doing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Now that you do, you might want to back off a little.”
“Of course.” Caitlin didn’t know whether the woman meant figuratively or literally, but she shimmied backward, and bumped into the customer behind her, nearly causing him to spill his beer.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “Use your rearview mirror before you throw yourself into reverse like that.”
“Sorry, sorry,” she repeated, and then she dashed out the door and down the street to the bus stop.
Caitlin’s face was so flaming hot she could’ve walked all the way back to the cottage with her coat unzipped and she still would have felt her skin burning when she got there. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized Shane and that woman were on a date.
Why didn’t he clue me in from the beginning, or introduce her, or even utter a single syllable? she wondered. Instead he just let me stand there, yammering away, until his date told me to get lost. Not that I blame her—she probably thought I was some random stranger hitting on him.
Not only did Caitlin feel embarrassed about her faux pas, but she couldn’t help being disappointed to learn that Shane had been on a date—and her disappointment, in turn, made her feel even more foolish.
Why am I so annoyed? I promised myself that I wasn’t going to flirt or socialize with him anymore, since a romantic relationship isn’t an option for us.
So it’s not as if I can get mad at him for dating someone else.
That would be completely unreasonable, not to mention, immature.
And yet, Caitlin couldn’t seem to shake her disappointment. What’s going on with me, anyway? I didn’t even feel this upset after I caught Jonathan kissing Melanie—and I’d been seeing him for half a year!
She stewed about it all the way home, for the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening. Finally, she went to bed at 8:30, just so she wouldn’t have to think about it any longer.
By morning, Caitlin’s embarrassment had faded, and in its place was a gnawing homesickness. The way Shane’s date had spoken to her, making it clear she was in the way , had left Caitlin longing to be with someone who treated her as if she were special.
She’d often wished she were closer to her parents; her relationship with her father and stepmother was cordial, but distant.
However, Caitlin’s connection to her stepbrother was almost maternal, since he was ten years younger than she was and she’d spent so much time babysitting him.
She was close to his wife, too, and of course, Caitlin cherished their three children and they thought the world of her.
Since nothing in Lydia’s Trust indicated she couldn’t leave the island for a short break, Caitlin impulsively decided to go back to Santa Fe for Thanksgiving. After her morning walk, she sat down to book a flight, but the holiday airfares were astronomical, and every flight included multiple stops.
I guess it’s just not worth it , she decided.
Crestfallen, she stood and stretched and then she went into the kitchen to make lunch.
She’d barely had a chance to open the fridge when someone rapped on the door: it was Shane, hugging a brown paper bag to his chest. His pink-tipped ears were sticking out on both sides of his wool hat, and when he said hello, the word made a vapor puff in the air.
“Hi, Shane.” Despite the cold, she didn’t invite him in. “It’s Sunday, you know. Your day off.”
“I’m not here to work. I’d like to talk. Can I come in?”
She opened the door wider and he stepped inside and wiped his boots on the small rug. She supposed she should’ve offered him tea or asked if he wanted to take a seat, but she wasn’t feeling especially courteous. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to explain his presence.
“I, um, I’m sorry about what happened at the pub yesterday. It was an awkward situation, and I didn’t handle it very well.”
That’s an understatement , thought Caitlin. You didn’t handle it at all—you just sat there like a bump on a log.
“It’s just that I was really surprised to see you.
” Shane shifted the bag he was holding to his other arm.
“And it was so loud in the pub that I could hardly think straight. The next thing I knew, you were sitting down, and Darcy was coming back from the ladies’ room, and it kind of felt like two worlds were colliding.
” He gave a little nervous laugh, but Caitlin wasn’t amused.
“I can understand how uncomfortable that must have been for you,” she said stiffly, only half-meaning it.
“After all, I disrupted your lunch, and I upset your date by unintentionally taking her seat and chatting with you. I’m very sorry.
It won’t happen again. From now on, if I see you in public, I’ll pretend we don’t know each other. ”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to do!” exclaimed Shane. Did he have to rub it in?
“Right, I get that now, but I didn’t realize it at the time,” she replied as patiently as she could. “I said I’m sorry, so I don’t know what else you want?—”
“I want you to listen for two minutes, please,” he interrupted, looking her squarely in the eyes.
“The reason I was acting as if I didn’t know you was because Darcy’s one of my cousin’s off-island acquaintances—Joyce set us up.
I didn’t want word getting back to her that you’re still on the island, because then she might somehow put two and two together and figure out what you’re doing here.
And I know how important it is to keep the remodel and your plans to sell the cottage under wraps.
So I figured the less said, the better.”
“Oh.” Caitlin felt completely humbled by his explanation, even though she was still a little disappointed that Shane had agreed to go out with Darcy. “It didn’t occur to me you were protecting my privacy. I mean, you introduced me to people at the Halloween party.”
“Yeah, but ever since then, Joyce has been grilling me about you. She got it in her head that I’m seeing you or something.
I told her I wasn’t, but she doesn’t believe me.
To be honest…” He paused and Caitlin waited with bated breath for what he’d say next.
“The whole reason I went out on a blind date in the first place was to throw Joyce off. You know, to make her think I’m interested in getting out there on the dating scene again. ”
“But you’re not?”
“Not with anyone as rude and insecure as Darcy.” His assessment made Caitlin smile to herself, since that was how Darcy had struck her, too. “Worst hour I’ve had in a long time.”
Secretly pleased their date had only lasted an hour, Caitlin said, “At least the chowder was good, right?”
“Yes. But I noticed you left without yours.” He extended the bag he'd been holding.
“You saved it for me?”
“No. This is freshly made. There’s a bowl in here for me, too. I figured we’d have lunch together, if you haven’t already eaten.”
Aww, he’s really gone out of his way for me.
First by agreeing to a setup, just to protect my privacy, and then by making a special trip to the pub so he could bring me fresh chowder.
Even if I vowed I wouldn’t socialize with him any longer, after all he’s done, it would be rude to say no to having lunch together now.
More importantly, Caitlin didn’t want to say no.
“You don’t mind eating chowder for a second time in a row?”
“Actually, it’s my third time in a row—when the server brought out your order, I took it so I could deliver it to you, but I had a splitting headache, so I went home and crashed.
When I woke up, I ate your chowder for supper,” he admitted, making Caitlin laugh for the first of many times during their afternoon together.
“How is Shane doing?” asked Marion as she served Caitlin a mug of mulled cider a few days later.
“Great,” she answered, scratching Pepper’s head, which he rested on her lap. “Although he’s disappointed because it’s unlikely his football team will make the playoffs this season.”
Marion gave her an amused look. “That’s too bad, but what I meant was how is he doing with the remodel?”
Embarrassed that it was obvious she’d been thinking about Shane in a personal way, Caitlin took a slow sip of cider before answering.
“I haven’t been inside the windmill for ages, because I want to be surprised by how the remodel looks when it’s finished.
But from what I’ve seen on the outside—especially the picture windows—Shane’s doing a fantastic job. ”
“When does he plan to finish the project?”
“Around the middle of December. It all depends on when he can get the floorboards. He’s using reclaimed wood from an old sea captain’s house in Benjamin’s Manor.
Apparently, one of his colleagues is renovating the home for a client who wants a more modern look.
Shane says the wood is beautiful and in excellent condition, and I trust him completely, so—” Realizing she was rambling about Shane, Caitlin stopped mid-sentence and took another sip from her mug.
“It sounds lovely,” said Marion. Letting her off the hook, she switched topics. “Will you be going back to Santa Fe for Thanksgiving?”
“No. The flights are very expensive and it’s such a hectic time to travel.
It doesn’t seem worth the expense and inconvenience for such a short visit,” Caitlin said.
“My niece and nephews are sad about it, but I’m returning to Santa Fe on December 21, so I’ll be there to celebrate Christmas with them. ”
“It’s understandable that you’d decide to stay put,” agreed Marion. “Have you made plans with anyone locally for the holiday?”
Since Shane and Marion were the only two people Caitlin really knew on the island, she wondered if what her neighbor was indirectly asking was whether she’d made plans to spend Thanksgiving with him.
Which she hadn’t; Caitlin didn’t even know what Shane was doing for the holiday, but she imagined he was either getting together with Joyce and Sammy, or else he was going to Maine for a few days.
“No, I haven’t made plans with anyone. But that’s okay—I intend to buy a small, premade turkey pot pie for myself, which means the preparations and cleanup will be a cinch.” Caitlin chuckled, but Marion seemed stunned.
“You can’t spend Thanksgiving alone,” she said. “You must join my family and me. You won’t be disappointed. I don’t do all the cooking anymore, but between Darren, Jeannine, and me, we put on a good spread.”
“I’m sure you do, and I appreciate the invitation, but you’ve been looking forward to your grandchildren’s visit for ages. I don’t want to disrupt your family time together.”
“Pfft, you won’t be disrupting anything,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I want to have you there, and I won’t take no for an answer, so there’s no sense in arguing.”
Caitlin smiled. “Then I’d love to come, thank you. What can I bring?”
“You’re such a good baker. Would it be too much of an imposition for you to make pie?”
“I’d love to!” exclaimed Caitlin. “Does your family have a preference for pumpkin or apple?”
“We’d happily devour either—or both,” hinted Marion.
“I’ll make one of each. Is it okay if I also bring the cranberry sauce? The berries I bought from Lindgren farm were so fresh and tangy the last time I got them that I can’t wait to make more.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Marion lowered her voice, as if someone might overhear. “Just between you and me, my daughter-in-law usually serves cranberry sauce from a can. It’s enough to make the Pilgrims roll over in their graves!” she said, causing Caitlin to crack up.
This is going to be a lot of fun , she thought later, as she tramped back to the cottage.
If she couldn’t celebrate the holiday with her brother and his family in Santa Fe, celebrating it with Marion and hers seemed like the next best thing.
And although her aunt and uncle weren’t there with her, Caitlin liked to believe they would be pleased to know she was finally spending Thanksgiving on Dune Island.