Chapter Eighteen #2
He grinned. “See! I told you it would be mutually beneficial. Imagine what else I might be right about.”
She rolled her eyes. “I said close,” she repeated.
“So I’ve been thinking,” he continued, undeterred. “About a way to slow the rush.”
“I’m listening,” Clark said.
But it was Lana who Cardoon was addressing when he said, “What if I texted you guys when the buses are departing? I could give a head count, party number. Might help organize the seating some.”
“Like an early warning system,” Clark mused. “I see it.”
“Right?” Cardoon motioned a hand at Lana. “Give me your number.”
“Yeah, Lana,” Clark repeated, now grinning himself. “Give him your number.”
I was brand-new to all this. But even I was surprised when she said, “And you’d remember to do that? Like, every bus?”
He put a hand on his heart. “Swear.”
A beat, during which the song finished. There was scattered applause, a couple of whoops.
“Fine.” Lana pulled her phone from her front pocket. Clark’s eyes widened as she swiped it open, then handed it over. “What?” she said. “It’s better than finding out at the door.”
As Cardoon took it, then began typing, I felt someone slide beside me on the plank. It was Ben, a bottle of water in one hand. He didn’t seem aware of the two girls trailing behind him, one redheaded, another with a ponytail, whispering to each other. But I was.
“You didn’t tell me you were in a band,” I said.
“I’m not,” he replied. “We just get together and play once in a while.”
“That’s not a band?”
“Not by my definition, no.”
“Your fan club suggests otherwise,” I said. The redhead was now giving me the stink eye.
“That’s not me,” he replied. “That’s the guitar.”
I looked at the girls again. “You sure about that?”
“Yep.” He brushed some hair, wet with sweat, off his forehead. “Once they actually talk to me, they tend to be less enthused.”
For some reason I doubted this. And not just because I was now hyperalert to that one little damp lock, curled over his ear. “So you’ve never taken part in this whole scene?”
“I didn’t say that,” he replied, and I snorted. “Just nothing worth mentioning. And definitely not a two-year, tornado relationship.”
“I didn’t say it was a tornado,” I pointed out. “I said it felt like one.”
“Right.” He took a sip of his water, nodding. “To be honest, it doesn’t sound so bad. Pavilion stuff tends to sputter out fast.”
I looked at Lana, who had gotten her phone back and was back scanning the crowd. “Then again,” I countered, “if you’re coming from a two-year tornado, you have no idea how to. Start, I mean.”
“Might be easier than you think,” he replied.
There it was again. A little pulse, possibility.
Just then, there was a sharp whistle from over on our right. It was Fringe Vest, motioning toward the platform. “Yo! Time to give the people what they want.”
Ben looked tired. “He’s…” I stopped, realizing I wasn’t sure what adjective to say next.
“Hector,” he finished for me. “Serious rock-star aspirations.”
“That explains his fashion choices,” I observed.
“Another point of contention.” He pushed himself to his feet. Immediately, the girls nearby began arranging themselves in his path. Lana saw it too.
“He’s not interested!” she yelled over her shoulder as he headed toward the platform. She was slurring a bit. I counted two empties at her feet.
“You need to cool it,” Clark told her, noticing this as well. “You’re being loud.”
Cardoon reappeared: Now he had a cup in each hand. “For you,” he told Lana, extending one in her direction. “We can toast to our new communication initiative.”
Clark was offended. “What about the rest of us?”
Cardoon ignored this, his eyes still on Lana. When she didn’t hold up her cup, though, he did not seem especially surprised. Or deterred, really.
“Oh, also, some intel,” he told us. “The sale on Saturday? Very much on management’s radar.”
“Makes sense,” Lana replied sullenly. “Easier for the bulldozers if everything’s empty.”
“At least they’re going to do something kind of cool with it,” Cardoon said, clearly trying to take the glass-half-full route.
“Define ‘cool,’ ” Clark told him.
“Well, it’s not just another hotel, for starters. They’re planning a multiwing structure with small residences. The working name will be the Coast. The idea is the brand of Tides and the Ebb, but homier.”
Now I did feel unsettled. It was one thing to know change was coming. Details already in place you knew nothing about? Another entirely.
“And you know this for sure?” Clark asked.
“I saw some blueprints,” Cardoon said. “There were also high-end private cottages for weekly rentals or time-share.”
“Ugh,” Lana moaned “It’s just getting worse.”
“It’s happening all over the lake, though,” Clark said. “Just last year someone bought Ruckey’s, one of the oldest motels there was. Put waterfront mansions there. With separate garages!”
Judging by the expression of disgust that followed from both him and Lana, this was especially offensive. “For what it’s worth,” Cardoon offered, “I did not see anything on the plans about garages.”
Lana, clearly not consoled, pushed herself to her feet. “I need another beer.”
“You have one in your hand,” Clark pointed out, but she was already heading toward the platform, weaving slightly, the yacht club guys and the sunglasses watching.
“Should we—” I began to ask, but before I could finish, Cardoon was on it. He had to jog a bit, though, until he caught up to fall into step beside her.
“Poor guy,” Clark observed. “At least he finally got her number. Took him long enough.”
“I was sensing a bit of a vibe,” I said. “At least from his direction.”
“It’s been going on for a couple of summers now.
” He started to take a sip of his cup, then made a face and dumped the contents on the sand.
“Looked like it might happen after that au pair, but then she met some guy from California who was down here for a waterskiing thing. With him over at the Egg so much now, though, this might be his year.”
Up on the platform, Ben, Hector, and the girl with the banjo were now starting to play again. “It’s got to be kind of weird,” I said. “Being friendly with the same place that’s buying everyone out.”
“Just how it is,” he replied. “This? Used to be the only nice public beach at the lake. There was a huge stink when they decided to build the Pavilion. People were pissed. But that’s progress.”
“Or, um,” I said, nodding at a nearby pile of planks and concrete, “not.”
“They’ll put something else here eventually. There’s only so much land. The Woods is one of the last big parcels.”
“It’s weird to think of a bunch of time-shares there,” I told him.
“Had to be something.” He sat back. “My point is, everything changes. You have a choice: Make it hard or make it work. And there’s enough hard shit already.”
Well put, I thought. “You should put that on a sticker. I’d buy one.”
“New business opportunity!” He grinned. “Maybe I will.”
Just then, there was some kind of commotion over by the keg. All I could see were backs, though, as immediately people began gathering around. Clark hopped up on the plank where he’d been sitting, squinting. “Uh-oh.”
“What’s going on?”
“Because I was there first, that’s why! Already filling my cup!” I heard a girl’s voice yelling distantly. “Does anyone here even have manners?”
The crowd parted. Then Cardoon was heading toward us, holding Lana by one shoulder. “Bit of a difference of opinion about turns at the keg,” he said calmly as she twisted, her face angry, trying to stare down someone behind her. “A beer might have been thrown.”
“I was defending myself!” Lana protested, stumbling slightly. Clark took her other arm. “And I’m pretty sure I missed anyway.”
“What happened?” Ben asked as he came toward us, dodging around a bunch of kids in matching blue Youth Group tees who were rubbernecking.
“The short version?” Clark replied. “We’re going.”
“Got it,” Ben said. “Just give me a sec.”
He turned back toward the platform. Clark began to steer Lana toward the walkway, which took a moment as she’d slumped against Cardoon, who was still propping her up from the other side.
The four of us made our way clumsily back to the lot.
It took a while, as Lana’s dragging feet were slowing everything down.
Then I had to scramble for her shoes as they fell off, first one, then the other.
Finally, we reached the car, where I climbed into the backseat first before the boys eased her in beside me.
When the door shut, she fell into my lap.
She smelled like sweat and beer. I just let her stay there.
“Trunk!” I heard Ben yell. Once Clark popped it, he quickly put in his guitar, banging it shut before hopping into the passenger seat. “Better hit it. There’s a wet girl right behind me who is not happy.”
Clark reversed quickly out of the space, heading toward the road. I turned to look out the back window, expecting Lana’s drenched victim. But there was only Cardoon in his uniform. He lifted a hand to me and I waved back. Then we took a turn and he was gone.
At the house, I gathered Lana’s shoes and phone as the boys got her out of the car and up the porch steps.
By the time I got to our room, she was already on the bed, curled up in her signature ball, knees to chest, head ducked down.
Remembering my own experience, I pulled the trash can over before I went out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me.
Outside I found Ben on the steps. Ahead the moon was reflected in the water, full and dazzling. “Where’s Clark?”
“Went back to our place to study. How’s the beer-thrower?”
“Out cold.” I sat down beside him. “So… does that happen often? With her?”
“More lately.” He eased back on his palms, stretching his feet out. “Emotions are running high, I guess. You saw how invested she is in all this. The sale is a big deal.”
“Clark said this place is one of the last remaining big tracts of land around.”