Chapter 3
Three
When they went to pay for the lights, Grace Ryan was working the register with another woman who was also wearing a white pharmacist’s coat.
“What’re you doing up here and not doling out drugs in the back?” Slim asked.
“This is what happens when you own the place and someone calls out sick,” she said with a wry smile. “This is Fiona Connolly, also a pharmacist. Fiona, meet Slim Jackson, resident summer pilot, and Erin Barton, lighthouse keeper.”
“Nice to meet you.” Fiona shook hands with both of them. She was tall and fair-skinned with reddish brown hair and pretty brown eyes.
“Another pharmacist on Gansett?” Slim asked.
“She’s covering when I’m away for the wedding and possibly longer if I can talk her into staying.”
“Where’re you going?” Slim asked.
“Evan has decided to make a go of his music with Buddy’s label, and I’ll be traveling with him. Fiona is one of my pharmacy school friends. She’s thinking about holding down the fort for me here while we’re on the road.”
“I’m spending a few days here before the holiday to see how I feel about the isolation,” Fiona added.
“That’s amazing news about Evan and the plans to tour,” Slim said. “I wondered what he’d do after his song hit number one.”
“He’s doing what he should be doing, and I’m going with him. So we need to show Fiona how much fun we have here on Gansett, even in the off-season, so she’ll want to stay for longer than a week,” Grace said, smiling at Fiona.
“Are you coming to Alex and Jenny’s tonight?” Erin asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Bring Fiona. Jenny won’t mind. The more the merrier.”
“That’s our motto on Gansett,” Grace said for Fiona’s benefit. “Which is why our circle of friends seems to expand exponentially.”
“Sounds like fun,” Fiona said. “I’d love to go, if you’re sure your friend won’t mind.”
“I know she won’t,” Erin said, “but if you’d feel better, I’ll text her to tell her I invited you.”
“That’d be nice. Thank you.”
Grace rang up the sale of the lights, which Slim paid for before Erin could get her wallet out of her purse. He was too quick for her.
“Are you counting down to the big day?” he asked Grace as he pocketed his wallet.
“I can’t wait.” To Erin, she said, “You should come with Slim. We’d love to have you.”
“Come where?”
“Oh, sorry—to my wedding in Anguilla. It was supposed to be in Turks and Caicos, but our resort was damaged by a storm, so they moved us to Anguilla. Somehow we will make do.”
Slim laughed at the way she said that last part.
“I’d love to have you there, Erin. Please think about coming. It’s going to be a blast. I think half the island is coming.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember Jenny saying that she and Alex are going. Thanks for the invite. I’ll have to see what’s going on.”
“No pressure, but it’s a chance to escape this freezing weather for a few days.”
“That does sound tempting,” Erin said as her heart pounded with anxiety at the thought of flying to Anguilla—or anywhere else, for that matter.
“Could I trouble you for an extra bag?” Slim asked Grace.
“Sure, here you go.” She gave him a plastic bag with the words Ryan’s Pharmacy stamped on it in blue letters.
“Thanks, see you tonight,” Slim said as he ushered Erin out the door with the proprietary hand on her lower back. He held the door to the truck and waited until she was settled to close the door.
“Should we hit the grocery store while we’re in town?” he asked after he got into the driver’s seat.
“I have plenty of everything, but if there’s anything in particular you want, we can.”
“I need my Ketel One. And beer.”
“I got your favorite vodka, but we can stop at the liquor store for the beer on the way home.”
“Thanks for thinking of me.” He directed the truck to the town beach and parked in the deserted lot. “Let’s go see what we can find.”
While indulging his need to come around and help her out of the car, Erin pulled on gloves and tied her scarf tighter around her neck.
Then she tied and untied the scarf again, making sure the left side was knotted over the right.
Why that mattered, she couldn’t say. It just needed to be that way or bad things might happen.
Carrying the bag he’d gotten from Grace, Slim took hold of her hand to help her over the sea wall and kept his hand wrapped firmly around hers while they walked. She was almost sorry she’d put on gloves, but she could still feel the heat of his bare hand warming hers.
They went down close to the water, where a long strip of seaweed made for fertile beachcombing. As was her routine, Erin stepped over the seaweed with her left foot. The right foot could never go first.
He stopped to pick up a scallop shell and held it up for her inspection.
Nodding in approval, she took advantage of the opportunity to remove her gloves, hoping he’d hold her hand again.
They walked the length of the beach, filling the bag with shells of all shapes and sizes as well as tiny pieces of driftwood and a long-dead starfish.
With the wind whipping around them, it was hard to hear each other, so they didn’t say much.
They didn’t need to. They kept up a steady communication with expressions and shared smiles over a particularly good find.
He ran ahead of her, stopping to scoop up an object that defied description. At one time it might’ve been a shell of some sort. Now it had barnacles growing on it and a starfish stuck to one end. Slim held it up high and shouted, “Topper?”
“Works for me!”
Smiling, he added it to the bag, which was nearly full.
He took hold of her right hand for the walk back to the truck against the cold wind that brought tears to their eyes.
Erin wanted to switch hands so he’d hold the left one instead.
It took effort not to ask if they could switch, but she withheld the obsessive urge, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way she favored her left side, even though she was right-handed.
She’d given a lot of thought to the question of why the left side and had come to the conclusion that it was because when they were photographed as children, Toby had usually been on the left and she on the right.
That was the best explanation she—and many therapists—had for the odd left-side fixation she’d developed after his death.
Back in the truck, he blasted the heat and rubbed his frozen hands together. “This is going to be the coolest Christmas tree ever.”
“It’ll certainly be the most unique.”
“I just thought of something we need from the grocery store,” he said as they drove away from the beach.
“What’s that?”
“Bleach. Unless we want your cute little lighthouse to smell like a bait shop tomorrow.”
“Um, no bait shop, please.”
“Not to worry. I gotcha covered.” He told her to stay warm in the car while he ran into the store, emerging ten minutes later with three big paper bags in his arms. “Saw a couple of other things we needed to get into the Christmas spirit.”
“Like what?”
“Hot chocolate, steak, baked potatoes and candles for the table. I’d rather make you dinner than take you out when it’s freezing.”
“You might be the best houseguest I’ve ever had.”
“You just found me out. My goal is to get invited back.”
Erin could tell she surprised him when she reached for his hand. “You have a standing invite.”
His smile lit up his eyes, and he leaned in to kiss her. “God, I’ve been dying to do that for hours now.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Afraid to scare you off. You’re kind of skittish about all this, aren’t you?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“How come?”
Erin drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “It’s been a long time, a very long time, since I allowed anything like this to happen.”
“And what exactly would you say is happening?”
His intense gaze made it impossible for her to look away. “I don’t know yet, but today’s been fun so far.”
He reached out to drag his fingertip over her cheek, which made her want to lean into his touch.
“Best day I’ve had since the last time I saw you.
” Keeping his eyes open, he kissed her again, softly, fleetingly.
Too fleetingly for her liking. It only left her wanting more, which was probably another one of his goals.
After a quick stop at the liquor store, they headed to the lighthouse, where Slim wrestled the tree up the spiral staircase. “Whoever had the big idea to put spiral stairs in here wasn’t thinking about Christmas,” he muttered, holding the tree over his head as he navigated the tight curves.
“And now you see why I didn’t bother with a tree.”
“It’ll be worth it. You’ll see.”
Thankfully, the tree came with a built-in cross stand that made it easy to position in a corner of the living room. Next, he saw to soaking their “ornaments” in bleach in a bucket he unearthed from the mudroom.
Entertained by his industriousness, Erin brewed a cup of tea and offered him some.
“No tea for me, thanks. I’m a coffee guy, and only in the morning.”
She filed away the information along with the other things she was learning about him as they spent more time together. Taking her tea to the sofa, she watched him string the lights until he was satisfied with the coverage.
“Does it hurt to look at?” he asked.
Smiling, she said, “Downright painful.”
“Perfect.”
Using fishing string and superglue he found in a kitchen drawer, Slim created hooks for their ornaments and handed them to her for placement, until the only thing left was the topper that was so ugly it was beautiful.
Slim surprised her when he placed his hands at her hips and lifted her so she could do the honors.
He brought her down slowly and gently and then turned her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “It’s beautiful,” he said of the tree, but he was looking at her.
“Yes, it is. I love it. Thank you for talking me into getting a tree.”
“Thank you for letting me talk you into it.”
He stared down at her, and then raised his hands to frame her face.
Erin couldn’t breathe as she waited to see what he would do, and he didn’t disappoint.