Chapter 14
Late the next afternoon, after spending most of the day cleaning, Tori stood at the table in the dressing room, finishing up sorting through the old programs. She had a box of ones she wanted to keep, a few she wanted to frame, and some she planned to just recycle. She couldn’t think of a good reason to keep hundreds of extra old programs.
As she sorted through the last stack, she noticed they were all very old, the paper wrinkled and faded. She opened one and smiled. They’d done a musical adaptation of Show Boat. She loved the songs in the musical. A Vera Whitmore had played the part of Magnolia Hawks, the riverboat captain’s daughter. She carefully put a few copies of the program aside in the frame pile.
She turned at the sound of a knock. Gavin stood in the doorway with a tool belt slung low on his hips, a smile teasing at his lips. “You look immersed in those programs.”
“And you managed to enter the room without startling me,” she shot back, self-consciously wiping the dust from her hands. It seemed like every project at the theater involved grime or dust, and he was always seeing her at her worst.
“I finished up the last coat of paint on the outside ticket booth. And I checked and the popcorn machine will be delivered tomorrow.”
She pushed back a lock of her hair, one hand on her lower back.
“You look beat,” he said, eyeing her with a small frown.
“I am tired. It’s been a long day.”
“You should quit. Rest. Get something to eat.”
“You’re probably right. But I have to go to the market and get groceries. I noticed this morning that I’m out of almost everything.”
“Let’s go grab something to eat at Sharky’s,” he offered up so nonchalantly.
She looked at him in surprise. “Us?”
“I mean, I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We both like Sharky’s.”
As tiredness swept over her, she still hesitated. But she didn’t know if she had the energy to shop and cook. “Okay, yes. That’s a good idea.”
His offer triggered distant memories of late post-show meals with her castmates, their conversations animated from the adrenaline of their performances. But this acceptance was more a response to her exhaustion. The lesser of two evils, not that she’d tell him that.
“Let me just grab this box of recycling to put in our stack in the lobby.”
“Oh, I already hauled off the recycling earlier this afternoon. But we can start another stack. And I mentioned to the workers to make sure they recycle all that they can.”
His diligence to detail brought back a fleeting memory of the favorite stagehand who always checked to make sure her props were in place and everything was exactly right for her performance. She should have thanked him more often.
“Thank you for doing all that,” she said with more gratitude than the situation warranted, trying to make up for her past omissions and hoping Gavin would quit stirring up memories better forgotten.
He reached over and picked up the box. “Coming?”
She followed him through the theater, turning off lights as they went. He set the box down in the corner of the lobby, and she saw there was now a sign on the wall that said recycling here.
“Walking okay? Or are you too tired?” He eyed her as if he expected her to admit how tired she actually was.
“No, walking is fine.” They stepped out into the evening light and she locked the door. The fresh air revived her as they headed to the boardwalk. She hurried a bit to keep up with his long strides, and he seemed to notice and slowed his pace.
“Lucky to have this breeze tonight. Chasing away the humidity.”
“It is nice.”
“Supposed to be much warmer tomorrow, though.”
So they were reduced to talking about the weather? Well, she guessed that was better than him spouting off his opinions.
They headed into Sharky’s and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior. He waved to Sharky, who motioned for them to take a seat. Though this wasn’t the original Sharky. Not the older man who ran it when she was young and came with her grandmother. It was Sharky’s nephew or someone like that. But everyone still called him Sharky.
“Let’s grab a table.” He strode across the room, weaving between the tables, and sat at a booth in the corner.
She slid into the seat across from him. The server came, and they both ordered the fried grouper and a beer. They got their drinks, and she settled back into her seat, glad to be off her feet.
“So, you’re a fan of their grouper too?” he asked.
“I am. I had it so many times when I came here with Grams.”
“So you two were close?”
“We were. I… I miss her.”
“You have any other family?”
“Just a brother and a niece.”
“No ex-husband or kids?”
“No… no husband, ex or otherwise. You?”
“It’s just me now. I was an only child and my parents are gone.”
No family at all? That must be hard. And she felt strangely bonded to him with his lack of children too. So many people questioned her choices. But when she was younger, of the childbearing age, her career had taken off. She’d dated some back then, but no one really seriously. Then she’d had a string of fairly permanent boyfriends that lasted from a few years to maybe five. But something always eventually went wrong.
“Penny for your thoughts.” He smiled at her.
“Oh, I was just thinking about life choices.”
He nodded as if he understood. “We make them not always knowing their far-reaching effects, don’t we?”
“We do.”
“So, you don’t talk much about your past life. What did you do before you came to the island?”
And there it was. The question she’d been dreading. It was like a spotlight’s glare just focused on her. “I?—”
Their meals were delivered just then, giving her an excuse to stay quiet.
But after the server left, Gavin wouldn’t let it go. “You were saying?”
“I worked in the theater district.” That was close enough for the truth, wasn’t it?”
“Really? No wonder you were interested in buying the theater. What did you do?”
“I… um… worked on productions.”
“Oh, like backstage stuff? That sounds interesting.”
She didn’t bother to correct him. She changed the subject. “And what did you do before you came back to Magnolia?”
He gave a wry laugh. “I was the head of community outreach for a large nonprofit in Los Angeles. In charge of all the fundraising.”
“So going out and actually talking to people to get them to donate?” She tried to hide her surprise.
“Yeah, stuff like that.” He took a bite of his sandwich, ignoring her look.
“So is that why you helped with the lighthouse restoration? To raise money for it?”
“I… uh… kind of.”
She wasn’t sure what happened with Gavin and the lighthouse restoration, but she got the feeling she shouldn’t press it anymore.
She changed the subject again. “So, has Miss Eleanor been asking you about the theater restoration and how’s it going?”
“No, I think she trusts me.”
She set her fork down. “But admit it, I’m doing a good job of it, aren’t I? It’s turning out nicely. And we’re getting close to finishing. Then I just need to make sure I have the opening play lined up… and I almost do. We’ll have a grand opening. Then we’ll open it up for other events.”
“It will be nice to have another larger venue for town events. We’ve mostly been using the large gazebo in the city park for events since the theater closed.”
“Why did it close?”
“I think repairs and upkeep got too expensive. The owner died, and his kids inherited it and had no interest in putting money into it.”
“And you didn’t want to try to fundraise money from the town to open it?”
He looked at her, his eyes hard and shuttered. “Nope. Not a chance. Not after the lighthouse.”
How many times was she going to have to change the subject tonight? Instead, she dug into her dinner as the silence grew between them.
They finished their meals with just a bit of small talk between them. He started to pay for both of them, but she insisted on paying her half.
When they stepped outside, the night sky greeted them, now speckled with stars and a bright moon hovering over the water, casting silvery light over the tops of the waves. She turned to him. “Thanks for inviting me to come along. It was nice having company for a meal.”
He nodded. “I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“And yet, I do. That’s how I was raised.”
They fell into step again, and this time, he kept his stride shorter and slower as they walked down the boardwalk. They cut across to her apartment and walked up the steps of the porch.
“Well, good night, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night.” He stepped back and started to turn, then stopped. “Hey, Tori. Thanks for joining me.” And with that, he trotted down the stairs and off down the sidewalk.
She slowly climbed the stairs to her apartment and unlocked the door. As she stepped inside, the now familiar apartment welcomed her.
It had been an… interesting… night. Gavin was an enigma. Sometimes grumpy, sometimes helpful, sometimes secretive.
But then, she had secrets of her own, didn’t she?
Gavin slowly walked back to his home. He passed a few other people, some who said hello, some who barely nodded. That had been his lot in this town since the whole lighthouse episode.
But that hadn’t really been his fault. His words had been twisted. The media could say whatever they wanted and some people blindly believed it.
He couldn’t change that. At least Miss Eleanor had stood up for him. And he appreciated that. He still remembered the day she strode into his shop.
“Gavin, those people are idiots. Don’t pay any attention to them.”
He’d looked up in surprise.
“Those people have a way of twisting things around. Try to ignore it all. I believe you.” Then she’d turned and walked out the door. Slowly, some of the people in the town had come around. But some of them? They still distrusted him.
But now, he always avoided the media. If he heard the paper was covering something, he wouldn’t show up. He knew all too well that some people in the media would just make things up to sell their news. It had happened to him twice now, and he’d learned his lesson the hard way.
He took a deep breath and shoved his thoughts away. He continued his leisurely pace, enjoying the warm evening breeze and the scent of the salty air.
His thoughts slipped back to dinner with Tori. He felt like she was holding back something about herself. But then, he was reserved too, so how could he blame her?
He had come to respect her work ethic. Things were really coming along nicely. And she was almost as detail-oriented as he was. At least she didn’t call him picky, like most people. She understood him.
He got to his house and went inside, flipping on the lamp near the door. The low light barely illuminated the room, but he was okay with that. He crossed to the fridge, pulled out a beer, then headed out to the deck. He sank onto a chair and took a swallow of the cold liquid.
Thoughts of Tori flickered through his mind. The day she’d painted the dressing room and flecks of cream-colored paint had speckled her cheeks. The way her eyes flashed when he said something that annoyed her.
And he had to admit, occasionally, he’d say something just to see that look of hers. His lips curved into an unbidden smile.
These weeks working at the theater had brought back a sense of purpose to his life. Not that he didn’t enjoy owning his bike shop. He did. But it seemed like a bigger purpose to restore the theater. Open it up again. Give something back to the town.
But then, that had been his reasoning on the lighthouse restorations too, and he saw how that went for him. His stomach knotted with a familiar mix of frustration and regret.
He took another swig of the beer and looked up at the sky, his eyes tracing the constellations. The vastness of the universe sprawled out before him.
Then, just like that, she was back in his thoughts. Her smile. The way she had a habit of pushing back that one always-wayward lock of hair.
He wasn’t sure what was coming over him. Or if he liked it. But the woman was getting under his skin.