Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Indi
A bank of fog is sitting off the coast, hovering like a wet blanket over an otherwise blue ocean. Summer in Rockhurst isn't an endless series of blazing hot days like down south. It comes in mildly, meekly, with long, hazy mornings that burn off to sunny, mild days. And there's always salt. It stays on your lips, on your skin, and you can even smell it in the briny air.
The tears dried up quickly. I'm starting to get hardened to the ways of the world. I suppose I have Cruella to thank for that, but the last few days I've been an emotional mess. Jameson's words were harsh and hurtful, mostly because they rang true in more ways than I care to admit. I spent my school years working hard and diligently, determined to find a big, brilliant career path. I thought working with Genie was the start to that path, but the more I think about it, the more I realize the job was a great career move, but it wasn't a great life move. I was always so stressed working for her, I rarely found any time just to laugh and have fun.
After high school graduation, Zach and I parted ways. People thought we were meant to be together, only we slowly realized that it wasn't meant to be at all. I was going south for college, and he had a football scholarship with a school back east. We parted as friends, promising to keep in touch, but that never happened. I learned through Weston that Zach got married, but apparently, that match wasn't meant to be either.
I'm still reeling from the last few minutes with Jameson when my phone rings. It's Kinsley. "I just saw Zach's post on Instagram. You're in town, and you didn't tell me? I'm hurt, insulted and utterly devastated."
I feel a smile break out on my face. "Kiki, I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice. And, for the record, I went to your house first last night, but you weren't home." I continue walking in the direction of Kinsley's house.
"Nev needed help in the stockroom at the sandwich shop, so we worked late." Somewhere during one of our quick, sporadic conversations, Kinsley mentioned something about her sister, Nev, buying the old ice cream parlor and turning it into a sandwich shop. I was always so wrapped up and, frankly, selfishly concerned with my own life, I couldn't be bothered to remember any of the details. "Where did you end up?"
I'm reluctant to tell her, only, in my defense, I thought I was going to the Dixon house. "Well, it was pouring rain, and I was exhausted and cold and hungry, and I'll explain that state of patheticness later, but since you weren't home, I went to Zach's parents' house."
Her giggle is still the same. "I'll bet you got the shock of a lifetime there, eh?"
"It was a series of shocks, actually." I'm still stinging from my conversation with Jameson, and I don't want to relive it, so I change topics. "I currently find myself between jobs and apartments and cars and, since I'm laying out all the dirty laundry, between boyfriends, so I'm hoping my best friend, Kiki, will have a couch for me to crash on. I'll try not to be too big of a blip in your lives. I know you're both busy."
"Are you kidding? I can't wait. It'll be like our old slumber parties. I'll let Nev know. I'm sure she won't mind." Kinsley's sister, Nev, is a year older, and the two sisters couldn't be more different. Kinsley is bubbly and carefree and an extrovert. Nev is quiet and likes to keep to herself. She's one of the smartest people I know. She got accepted to many big colleges, but in the end, she thought she'd be happier staying in town. She said the world was too big and mean for someone like her. I'm starting to think she was right.
"I really appreciate this, Kiki. I'm heading your way now."
"Actually, we're in the sandwich shop. Come on by."
"Great, I'll be there in a few minutes."
A text comes through as I head toward the shop. It's from Zach.
How about lunch tomorrow? I'm free. We could take it down to the beach.
Zach is more anxious than me to revisit old times, but I text back.
Yes, sounds great.
I arrived in the dark and in the pouring rain, so I didn't get to see much of the town. Some of the brick buildings have been painted light pastel colors giving them a much more beachy vibe than the old red brick. The town was one of those historical places that sprang up out of nowhere to accommodate the influx of nineteenth century gold miners. I always loved the Victorian architecture, lush evergreen landscape and coastal views. Some of the older, more obsolete businesses, like the shoe-repair and the gift shop, have been replaced by more modern stores, like a cell-phone shop and a nail and lash boutique. Nev left the candy cane striped columns that used to let you know you were about to enter ice cream heaven. The building is painted lavender and the words Sandwich Portal are scrawled across the front window in silver paint. Nev was always a science fiction buff, so the name makes sense.
The shop is closed, so I knock a few times. Kinsley comes out from the back. She's cut her hair short. It's spiky and adorable. Kinsley's big brown eyes stare out from a fringe of razor-cut bangs. Summer just started, but her cocoa-tinted skin is already glowing with a tan.
She swings open the door and squeals as she throws her arms in the air. My ribs are feeling better with each passing hour, but I still hold my breath for our exuberant hug. We squeeze each other tightly and even manage to hop around in a circle still stuck in the embrace. There's a nice little dose of pain for a second, but it disappears fast.
Nev comes out from the back. Nev is petite, like a tiny doll, with a perfect hourglass figure and a heart-shaped face to add to the whole porcelain doll look. Her tawny brown hair is clipped back off her face. Hazel eyes and flawless skin have always made her one of the prettiest women in town, but she never seemed to realize it. It wasn't in her nature to embrace beauty and vanity. She didn't need to be admired. Her shyness didn't come from lack of confidence. It came from not wanting to bother with the frustration and disappointment of an active social life. She was always comfortable in her own skin. I envied her for that.
"It's nice to see you back in town, Indiana," Nev says. She is one of the few people who calls me by my real name. I never mind it.
"It's nice to be back, Nev. And thank you for letting me stay a few nights. I'll try and get out of your way as soon as possible."
"Nonsense," she says as she pulls a stack of sandwich wrappers out from under the counter. "You can stay in our grandmother's room for as long as you need."
"I couldn't stay in El Honey's room—" I look at Kiki for back up, but she's shaking her head. "Really, the couch is fine."
Kinsley grunts. "Not our couch. The springs are starting to poke through the cushions. We badly need a new one, but Miss Cheapo over here won't agree to buy one."
Nev continues with her task of separating the stacks of wrappers. "I told you, go right ahead as long as you're paying for it."
"Uh, you're the older sibling and business owner, remember?" Kinsley waves it off. "Anyhow, you'll stay in Nana's room, and we can stay up till all hours of the night munching on chips and candy while we gossip about everyone in town. Which reminds me—I guess you met Rockhurst's newest young resident?"
It takes me a second to figure out who she's talking about. The notion of Jameson Wilde as a dad still hasn't sunk in properly.
"You mean Rio? She's adorable. Were we that mature and sophisticated at twelve?"
"Nope," Nev says matter-of-factly as she washes tomatoes in the sink.
Kinsley rolls her eyes at her sister. "I agree with you. Rio is advanced for her years, but I think it's because she was on her own a lot. Her mom worked several jobs, and from what I've heard, she was constantly going out partying and on dates and leaving Rio with whatever friend or neighbor was willing to watch her. Jameson is a good dad though. Better than his father, at least."
"You say that like it's impossible to believe." Nev slows her knife for a second to join the conversation. "Nana always said those boys had more human soul than most anyone else she met. I'm sure Jameson is trying his hardest to do everything differently than his dad. If you think about it—Finn was the perfect model for exactly what not to do."
I smile at Kinsley. "I see your sister is still the wisest woman in the village."
Kinsley laughs. "She thinks so anyway."
I survey the shop. Several white picnic tables and benches have been set inside for dining. The walls are painted in vertical pale blue and white stripes, and one wall is covered with framed vintage science fiction movie posters. My favorites are Attack of the 50 Foot Woman and The Day the Earth Stood Still . There are scantily-clad, bombshell-caliber women on both posters leading me to think things were a lot more risqué in the 50s than the boomers would have us believe.
"Where are my manners? What can I get ya? A soda or a cookie or maybe a tuna salad sandwich? It was Nana's recipe, and people love it," Nev says.
"I'm fine. I had pancakes at Jameson's house."
Kinsley laughs. "I'll bet you never expected to utter those words. Can you believe he bought that house? It was always the best one on the cove." Kinsley still seems to be the queen of the gossip world. "Most of us assume the money came from his mom. She's married to some mega-rich guy up north, in Montana."
"Really? I hadn't heard."
Kinsley's focus is pulled to the front window. She clears her throat loudly. "Zander alert," she mutters. Nev glances up from the cutting board, immediately puts down the knife and disappears into the back.
I look at Kinsley for an explanation, and she harrumphs at me. I forgot that Kinsley is a master at the art of harrumphing. "Please, you haven't forgotten that my sister carries a torch for Mr. Zander Wilde. And that torch has never faded."
"Shut up and let him in, Kiki," Nev calls from the back.
"He comes in here a few times a week for a roast beef sandwich," Kinsley explains as she pushes open the door.
It's been years since I've seen Zander Wilde. He was always sort of the wrecking ball of the family. You didn't want to get in his way on a football field or in life in general. He fills most of the small shop when he steps inside. He stands well past six feet with a shoulder width to match.
Zander pushes black sunglasses up onto his head. White teeth flash behind his smile. He is still as strikingly handsome as ever with his thick brown hair and his dad's blue eyes. "Holy smokes, is that the crowned jewel of Rockhurst High?"
He's one of those guys who makes you blush just by talking to you. I can feel my cheeks warm, and suddenly, I'm sixteen again, standing in the hallway and on the receiving end of one of Zander's winks. "I'm back but the homecoming and prom crowns are far behind me."
"Well, hell, thought you were living the high life down in Los Angeles. What brings you back to Rockhurst? Shit, does my brother know you're back?"
"A string of bad luck made me rethink my life down south, and if by brother, you mean Jameson, then yes, he knows."
Zander stares at me for a second. "Interesting." I have no idea how to interpret his comment.
Nev comes out from the back. She's added a touch of color to her lips and cheeks. "Oh, Zander, I didn't hear you come in." It's funny because it's impossible not to notice or hear Zander when he enters a room.
"Nevvie, my little sandwich queen. I'll have the usual."
Nev is someone who never gets flustered, but she's clearly thrown off balance by Zander's presence. He has that kind of impact on people, but I never would have expected it from Nev. I watch her from the side of my eye as she turns back to the sandwich prep counter. She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath and then busies herself with the sandwich.
"You should come out to the ranch. The twins are back home and I'm going to be breaking a new colt we just got in. He's going to be a cool horse once I pop the air bubbles out of him. I think Jameson will be there, too." He laughs. "If you talked to him, then you know about Rio. I'm going to put her up on Irish, our old pony, today."
"Irish? She's still alive? I loved that pony," I say. I spent time at Finn's ranch because Weston was always there riding horses, racing tractors, jumping from haylofts and anything else that might result in a trip to the emergency room. Finnegan never minded having a lot of kids running around his place, and he certainly never paid attention to whatever the boys were up to. The term hands-off parenting originated with Finn Wilde.
"Yeah, ole Irish is still plodding away. Lost track of how old she is, but she gives some of the younger horses a quick nip or kick if they're getting on her nerves. She can still hold her own in the pasture. Rio's started riding lessons. Did you meet her?" he asks it with a proud uncle sparkle in his eye.
"I've met her, and she's amazing." I think about how Jameson and I ended our talk this morning, and it feels heavy and disappointing. It seems we both jumped right back to our old ways of constantly rubbing each other the wrong way. There had been many abrasive, disappointing incidents with Jameson.
Nev barely lifts her gaze as she slides the wrapped sandwich across the counter. Zander is offering her what I consider to be a heart-stopping smile, but she doesn't look at him. He looks disappointed, hurt. He passes her his bank card, and she rings him up.
"Thanks, Nev," he says quietly. It's not his usual boisterous, bowl-over-everything-in-the-path tone. She nods and finally lifts her face. Her smile is sweet and demure, and it seems to wash over him like a soothing hand.
"Come to the ranch," Zander says. "You can come too, Kiki, but I'm not letting you sit on any horse."
"Oh my gosh, that was fifteen years ago, and there was a bee. That's why I screamed."
Zander shakes his head. "A bee," he mutters as he strolls out.
I turn to look at Nev. The color is just starting to fade from her cheeks as she watches him stroll down the sidewalk and out of sight.
"I'm going to take Indi home, so she can put her things away," Kiki says. "I'll be back before the lunch hour." She stops. "What happened with that last interview? I hate working at the bank all week only to have to spend my weekends working here at the shop."
Nev shakes her head. "She didn't know the difference between cheddar and jack cheese, and she said she couldn't work on Sundays. So, she was a big no."
"Great. Well, I'll be back soon," Kiki says on a sigh. "C'mon, bestie. We've got a lot of catching up to do."