7. Tea
Chapter 7
Tea
Archer pursed his lips as he stared back at her.
Tea wasn’t sure if she’d completely soured whatever was happening between the two of them, but she couldn’t sit here and listen to him , of all people, repeat the words she hated hearing.
I’m sorry for your loss.
He deserved better. He was gone too soon.
He loved you very much.
She knew all of those phrases came with good intentions.
No one ever knew what else to say.
But after suffering through them over and over and over , those good intentions lost all meaning to her.
She never felt like she had the right words to offer back, and she was tired of having to hop into her grief every time someone felt the need to apologize.
So very, very tired.
She waited for Archer to close himself off again.
To leave.
Instead, his mouth softened and he nodded once.
“All right.”
She eyed him, watching as he tapped his fingers against the wood, his forearms flexing with each tap.
“So…” she started, hugging her legs.
Archer lifted his brow, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Decided to ink your entire body, huh?”
He grinned and grabbed his hat, twisting the flat brim forward so he could lean his head back against the chair.
He closed his eyes. “You could say I have grown an…obsession.”
“Yeah, understatement.”
His grin smoothed into a content smile.
She took advantage of his closed eyes and raked her gaze across his body, finally allowing herself a moment to properly look at his ink.
A bass guitar. A pirate ship.
A walleye dangling from a pole.
Every piece, from the small moon at his thumb to the massive snake wrapped around his arm, was beautifully done.
“Which was your first one?”
She watched his smile fade.
He cleared his throat but didn’t respond.
“Oh,” she whispered, wrapping herself tight.
She abhorred the way she was feeling.
She couldn’t handle it.
She needed to say something.
“Arch—”
“ Don’t. ”
It was her turn to snap her mouth shut.
Archer sat up straight, then brushed his hands down his thighs, his eyes on the patch of grass a foot in front of them.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to leave the past in the past and…move on.”
She did mind.
Very much. Tea spent the last few days doing everything she could to avoid talking to Archer, but now that she was, she wanted everything out in the open.
She wanted to apologize for that night eight years ago, for all of the nasty things she said but did not mean.
Except he’d listened to her when she told him not to pry about her father, so it was only fair—as they attempted to mend their friendship back together—that she also did the same.
“Sure,” she replied.
“The past is in the past.”
He nodded, closing his eyes as he tapped the tips of his fingers.
She needed something to say to break the tension, but she just stared at him.
Went back to scanning his body.
When she got to some kind of berry plant tattoo on his left ankle, she registered that he was wearing tennis shoes.
“Why are you wearing sneakers right now?
His grin returned. She exhaled with relief.
“I mean, you’re kind of breaking lake etiquette,” she continued.
“Isn’t it a rule here that you always have to be barefoot?”
“Try stepping on a bee three times in a single season, then come talk to me about lake etiquette.”
She flinched.
“Ouch. Damn clovers.”
He grumbled.
“Damn clovers. I need to sprinkle a solution across the lawn and kill them, but it’s not my highest priority.”
He lifted his hat, finally giving her a clear shot of his hair.
It was shorter, but it was still wavy and midnight-black.
He had a full head of it, unlike his brother Austin who skipped his balding phase and completely shaved his head.
She’d seen the Instagram photos of Riley shaving off Austin’s hair with an electric razor three summers earlier.
Archer wasn’t in any of the shots.
He tilted his head at her, eyes expectant.
Eyes that were aware she was staring.
She shook out of it.
“What is your highest priority?”
“Probably the dumpster.”
She frowned.
“You still haven’t figured that out yet?”
He rubbed his temples.
“By all means, if you have a solution that will keep the bears out and make it easy for anyone to remove early in the morning, I’m all ears.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking through different possibilities.
Archer sighed at her lack of an answer, then pointed to her half empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
“Wanna share some of that?”
“I don’t have anything for you to drink out of, and it’s probably not safe for you to drink from the bottle—”
He bolted upright.
“I’ll grab a glass. Be right back.”
He returned minutes later with an empty mason jar in one hand and two bags of Old Dutch chips in the other.
He placed his glass down then held up the two bags.
“Ketchup, or Barbecue?”
“Ketchup, duh.”
He tossed her the unopened bag.
“Some things never change.”
“Yoo-hoo, Archer!”
“ No, no, no ,” he mumbled, then turned with a flourish, that Minnesota Nice smile from earlier painted on his face.
“Sandy, hi!”
Tea opened her bag of chips and dug in, taking a large sip of her wine as she watched Archer play nice with Sandy.
They were talking about the owners’ meeting in a few weeks, and despite Archer’s pleasant demeanor, Tea could tell that he was not thrilled to be talking about where they were hosting the meeting again.
Sandy lifted her arm toward her cabin, her gaze fixed on her porch.
Archer looked above Sandy’s grayish-blonde ponytail—he towered over her by a foot—and rolled his eyes at Tea.
Tea grinned, then made a show of pouring more wine into her glass and taking a big gulp.
He shook his head. You suck , he mouthed.
She shrugged and took another long sip.
After he successfully calmed Sandy down and somehow had her walking away with a smile, Archer grabbed for the empty jar.
“Archer!”
“Jesus, what is in the air?” he grumbled to her.
Then he stood up straight.
“Mom, hi!”
Larissa Vincent walked up to her son with a stern face and crossed her arms. “Are you joining us tonight?”
Tea felt her throat close up, her palms go clammy.
Does she know? Is she mad at what I did to her son?
Archer held his hand out to his jar and unopened bag of chips.
“I have dinner.”
“That’s not a meal.” Larissa eyed the chips, the jar, and finally the person who was keeping Archer company.
“Ope, Tea! Darling, it’s so good to see you. I would have stopped over sooner, but you know…the pandemic and all that.”
She swallowed.
“You too, Mrs. Vincent.”
Larissa glared at her.
“That is not my name.” She playfully slapped her son’s shoulder.
“Maybe if Archer actually filled us in on anything about you the past eight years we wouldn’t be so formal! He hasn’t told us a thing.”
Archer flinched at her words.
Her shoulders relaxed.
She thought we were talking.
She thought we were still friends .
She rolled her eyes, making a show of it.
“It’s good to see you too, Mom.”
“Much better,” Larissa replied with a twinkle in her eye as she turned back to her son.
“I made meatloaf tonight, and I was going to put it on the grill.”
Archer tossed his head back and moaned.
The sound…did something to her.
She poured more wine down her throat.
Archer snapped up straight and pointed at her.
“You’re hogging.”
Tea pressed her lips together and released a satisfied smack .
“You’re taking forever.”
Larissa watched the two of them with obvious glee.
“It’s so good to see the two of you hanging out.”
Archer’s shoulders sagged.
“Well, we’re currently not hanging out because you’re here —”
Larissa pressed a finger into her son’s chest and pushed hard, a strand of hair slipping from her ponytail.
She blew it out of her face and gritted, “Archer Vincent, if you do not join us for dinner tonight, I will come into your cabin with a sledgehammer and annihilate that pathetic wall of yours—”
He lifted his hands up.
“Okay, okay, I got it. Don’t take it out on my sticky notes.”
She huffed, then clasped her hands behind her back and grinned.
“See you in thirty minutes.”
Archer let out a strained sigh as he watched his mother make her way back to her cabin.
His hands curled into fists, then he unfurled them and repeated the motion.
Finally, he turned around to face her.
Tea held up her empty wine bottle with a triumphant smile.
“Whoops.”
She faced the front door outside Cabin A the following morning, telling herself that it was no big deal.
After he cursed at her for finishing up her bottle the night before, she went to grab another, but when she returned he was being summoned by Steph Bramble to fix their storage unit’s roller door.
By the time he finished, he had to report to dinner.
“We’ll…talk,” he’d said, snatching his unopened bag of chips and empty jar.
“Sure, yeah.”
He frowned.
“That didn’t sound too convincing.”
“Archer, I’m not going anywhere for another three months. We are bound to talk .”
“Maybe sail?”
She squinted her eyes and looked away from him.
“Don’t push your luck.”
He hadn’t.
He’d simply said good night and left her to watch the sunset alone.
So when she’d woken up jittery and anxious, her fingers itching to do something , she snatched her laptop, searched the Internet, then rushed over to Archer’s cabin before she could change her mind.
She knocked.
“One minute!” he shouted from the back of his cabin.
She peered through the screen door, scanning the inside of Archer’s domain.
Mahogany handmade desk and chair covered in papers.
Checkered tan and white wool three-seater couch with a rip down the center cushion, a homemade crocheted blanket slung over the top and a throw pillow with Up North stitched on the front.
The carpet looked stained and old, and paint chipped at the top close to the ceiling.
The Wild Pines manager cabin had certainly seen better days.
Archer approached from the back of his cabin, hair wet and already in his work clothes for the day.
He didn’t open the door, letting the screen act as their protection.
He titled his head, a confused expression on his face.
“You actually get up at this hour?”
She scowled at him.
“Har, har.”
“Back in the day you would sleep in until, what? Ten? Eleven?”
“Unless you or Dad were dragging me out of bed.” She didn’t mention why.
He already knew.
He shot her a mischievous grin.
“Ah, the good old days. I miss the screaming.”
“You’re weird.”
“No, you’re weird for being on my porch at eight in the morning. What are you doing here?”
Tea lifted the four bungee cords she held in her hand.
“I had an idea.”
Thirty minutes later, they stared at two remarkably secure dumpsters, held tightly by her cords.
“How did you think of it?” Archer asked her.
He circled the dumpsters— again —giving the cords a flick to make sure they were still taut.
He rattled them as well, seeing if the tops would flip open.
Nothing.
Tea shrugged.
“The university of YouTube.”
“I love that school. There are so many great academic minds on there.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m kind of shocked you didn’t try looking it up yourself. It took me, like, ten minutes to find a solution.”
“Hey there, smart-ass. I barely have time to even watch television these days.”
She loosened her arms. “Fair point.”
He unhooked the cords with ease.
“I need to make sure to come out here each night and secure them.”
“Do it quickly before you go to bed.” She pointed to his cabin next to them.
“You’re literally right there.”
He nodded, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.
“Coffee?”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she replied, pointing to her cabin.
“Pop’s already got his second pot going.”
“Yeah, no, that won’t do.” He made his way toward his cabin, motioning for her to follow.
“I’ve got something better.”
“Um, all right.”
She followed until he stepped inside of his cabin, then she froze.
The screen door cracked open, then a hand popped out, holding a disposable mask.
“For you, my lady.”
She relaxed, slipping the springy elastics around her ears.
“Thanks.”
Tea took a tentative step into the cabin.
Archer also wore a mask as he placed different coffee contraptions onto his kitchen counter.
A Chemex. A scale. A hand grinder.
Filters. A bag of Ethiopian coffee beans.
“Fancy,” she said, watching as he measured out the beans on his scale.
He shrugged. “It’s the only luxury I have time for these days.”
“Are you really that busy?”
Archer glanced up and pointed to the wall behind her.
She turned around, then sucked in a shocked breath.
The entire wall was covered in yellow sticky notes.
She stepped closer to read them, realizing each note was a task he needed to complete for Wild Pines.
“‘Paint this depressing cabin,’” she read aloud.
She scanned the walls, the spots of peeled paint hard to ignore now that she stood inside.
She kept reading. “‘Send June newsletter. Submit lake association fees. Fill out tax forms.’”
“Those will be the death of me,” he grumbled.
“What, the sticky notes? Or the tax forms?”
“Yes.”
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from behind her.
She turned, stepping close enough to get a glimpse of Archer in action while still keeping her distance.
His arms were relaxed as he worked, moving the kettle slowly over the fresh grounds in the Chemex, the coffee blooming on top and smelling like heaven on earth.
She couldn’t see his full face, but his eyes told the whole story.
They were shining.
She was thankful she wore a mask that hid the ridiculous smile on her face as she watched her former friend.
Or…current friend.
“Coffee, tattoos…” she said.
“Any other hobbies I should know about?”
“Cocktails.”
She lifted her brow.
“Cocktails?”
He nodded.
“I bartended in college, and found that I loved it a lot more than what I was studying in school. So I switched my major to hospitality and got a flair-master mixology certification.”
“Dang. You can actually have a career mixing drinks?”
“Definitely.” He removed the filter from the Chemex, then grabbed two Silver Falls mugs out of the cupboard behind him.
“Although the pandemic certainly put a wrench in my plans. The cocktail lounge I worked at closed for the time being, and I have no idea if they’re planning to open back up.”
“At least you have this,” she replied.
His jaw ticked as he poured the coffee.
“Yeah. I guess.”
Tea took the mug that he slid in her direction.
His face remained tight and closed off.
She felt the need to pry.
She wanted to know how he really felt running Wild Pines after all of these years.
But she also knew that she lost privileges to Archer and his feelings a long time ago.
She would have to earn them back.
She wrapped a hand around the warm ceramic and pushed her mask down to take a sip.
She closed her eyes and groaned, the taste of the coffee rich and nutty with a hint of chocolate and orange peel.
“That good, huh?”
She blinked her eyes open, blushing.
“Sorry.”
Archer also pushed down his mask to take a sip, but he held his mug close to his lips, grinning at her.
“Don’t be. I love watching someone enjoy a drink I made.”
She slipped her mask back on, her face feeling hot.
She blamed the coffee.
She turned to the wall of sticky notes, scanning the ones she read before.
Fill out tax forms. Submit lake association fees.
“You know,” she started.
“I could fill out tax forms.”
Archer walked around the counter to stand next to her.
He placed his coffee on the small oval kitchen table beside him, then crossed his arms in front of his chest. Tea did her best to keep her eyes on his face and not the seven tattoos dotted across his bicep.
His eyes remained stern as he stared at his sticky notes.
“I studied business, and I’m pretty good with numbers—”
“I know,” he interrupted.
“And I remember.”
She pursed her lips.
“Seriously, Archer. Let me help.”
“I would not subject you to such hell.”
“Why not? Please, I am so bored .”
“You have a summer of literally nothing before you. Why would you want to work?” He reached for his coffee and stepped away from her, removing his mask to take a sip.
“Plus, I can’t pay you.”
“I’ll work for free.”
He held a palm out to her, like he was trying to make a point.
“Don’t you have a master’s degree? I’m pretty sure they tell you to never work for free.”
Tea knew he was right, but now that the seed was planted in her head, she couldn’t ignore it.
She wanted to work. She needed to work.
She needed something to get her out of bed before ten a.m.
She crossed her arms and sank into a hip, tapping her foot.
“How about instead of payment, we make a deal.”
He cocked a brow.
“What kind of deal?”
She pointed to her mug.
“Free coffee every day.”
“That sounds like an awful deal.”
“And I can put on my résumé that I worked as an assistant manager for the resort.”
She watched a smirk peel from the corner of his mouth.
“Clever.”
“I hate the idea of finishing up this summer without gaining any experience.”
“Tea, there’s a pandemic —”
She swiped her arm in front of her, cutting him off.
“Don’t care. I want to be doing something. I need to get my mind off of… life .”
He sighed, looking like he wanted to dig into what she meant by that, but he didn’t, and she was grateful for it.
“You sure this is what you want?”
“Absolutely.” She pointed to the laptop on the coffee table.
“Now grab that and meet me outside where we can drink coffee without masks and I can take a look at your spreadsheets.”
“ What spreadsheets?”
She sucked in a breath.
“ Archer .”
He grinned.
“Kidding. Let’s go.”