fourteen | will
FOURTEENWill
The drive from Pinehart to Cedar Bridge is longer than I remember. My truck also feels smaller.
A lot smaller.
Every time Emberly shifts in her seat, I catch a whiff of jasmine.
“Will!” Cab shouts a few inches from my ear. “Turn it up!”
I recognize the opening notes of her favorite song and slant a look at Emberly.
“Sorry.” I have to pitch my voice over the music that blares from every speaker and Cab, who is now singing along.
“She likes Declan Murphy?”
I’m surprised Emberly knows who he is. I’d have bet dollars to donuts, one of Dad’s favorite sayings, she wasn’t a country music fan.
“Likes isn’t a strong enough word.” When it comes to Cab’s second obsession, my eardrums are collateral damage. The lyrics of Murphy’s latest hit plays on repeat in my head. She listens to his music in the kitchen, the living room, and the bathroom while she takes a shower.
It doesn’t help that the majority of his music centers around a broken heart.
I want to tell the guy that if you’d learned your lesson the first time, you wouldn’t have to relive it again. And again. And again.
Murphy’s guitar wails a final ode to love lost, and I turn the volume down.
“Isn’t his music awesome?” Cab sighs.
“He’s a pretty nice guy, too,” Emberly says.
I’m silent. Cab is silent. And then she’s hanging over the seat between us.
“You Met Him?”
I’m officially deaf in my right ear.
Emberly chuckles. “Once.”
“You went to one of his concerts? Were you, like, backstage?”
Emberly hesitates and my imagination fills in the blank. And what I see is Emberly and Murphy hanging out together at a party, comparing notes about their private jets.
“We …” A pause. “Met at a friend’s house.”
Definitely a party. I hate my imagination.
“Did you get a selfie?”
“No selfie.” Emberly’s voice drops to a whisper. “But I can tell you that his favorite color is green.”
Green like dollar bills?
Or Emberly’s eyes?
I switch the station to talk radio.
“You are so Lucky.” The seatbelt retracts as Cab flops against the seat and I look in the rearview mirror to make sure she hasn’t passed out from excitement.
Emberly is smiling and I imagine her smiling like that at Murphy. It makes me want to punch something. Like the guy’s capped teeth.
“We’re here,” I announce, mostly to change the subject.
But on second thought, Cedar Bridge might require a bit of an announcement.
It’s kind of a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town.
We’ve got a bank, gas station, bait shop, and a café that closes at two.
The grocery store added a deli a few years ago while the Save a Buck variety store specializes in things the tourists forgot to bring with them.
With all the general maintenance at the resort, I personally keep Dawson’s Hardware in business.
I look for an empty parking spot in the center of Main Street. It’s only four blocks long, so everything is within walking distance.
“The grocery store is that brick building on the corner.” I point it out to Emberly. “How much time do you think you’ll need?”
“Half an hour?” She’s looking out the window as I parallel park in front of Save a Buck and I wonder what she sees.
Aww. I know what she sees. A town that flourished in the lumber era and has been struggling to survive ever since.
I’ve heard people describe the row of brick buildings that line Main Street as quaint.
Picturesque. But those are people who are passing through.
To everyone here, it’s home. Not perfect, but it’s ours.
“Can I go to the store with Emberly?” Cab pipes up from the backseat.
I open my mouth to answer but Emberly beats me to it.
“It’s fine with me.”
“Don’t you want to walk over to the bait shop?”
Cab doesn’t look the least bit tempted by my suggestion. “Nope.”
I dig out my wallet and hand Cab a five-dollar bill. “We need a dozen eggs.”
I leave the truck running with the AC on for Juni, who’s already stretched out on the backseat, snoring away.
Ordinarily, I chat with Walt Dawson for a few minutes. He was a mechanic before he took over the hardware store, so he’s the person I call whenever something breaks down. Which seems to be a lot.
Today, I buy the part I need and I’m out the door in record time.
Fortunately, Emberly and Cab are coming out of the grocery store as I cross the street. Both of them are carrying paper sacks filled with groceries and I transfer them into an empty storage container I keep in the bed of the truck.
Now I can check one more thing off my list and avoid Em—er, work—the rest of the day.
Cab taps me on the shoulder as I pull onto the street.
“Are we going to the Den?”
Shoot. I should have known she’d bring it up.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Why not?”
Why not? Because this is a small town. Where everyone knows everyone. Or is related to someone who knows someone.
The Dairy Den is the most popular place in town in July, so if I show up with a stranger—a stranger who also happens to be a woman—everyone will think we’re Together.
I’m serious. It’s the reason most of my friends (Knox excluded) won’t take a girl out on a date in Cedar Bridge.
“What’s the den?” Emberly asks.
“The Dairy Den.” Cab leans forward again. “They have the best peanut butter shakes in the world. And the best ice cream.”
Emberly slides a look at me. “I like ice cream.”
Juni’s tail thumps the seat. Her vocabulary is limited, but this she understands. Sue, the owner, gives out free puppy cones.
I’m outnumbered.
“Fine,” I grumble.
It’s possible the Den isn’t busy, but I should have known better. The parking lot is already packed with cars and there’s a line at the window.
Sue used to have a small army of high school kids who came right to your car to take your order, but like all the other businesses around here, it’s difficult to find enough help anymore, so it’s counter service only.
Picnic tables, each one painted a different color, are scattered around the perimeter.
The Den’s mascot, a giant concrete bear holding an ice cream cone, has become a popular background for selfies.
“Hey, Will.”
I give Mr. Collins, my high school history teacher, a quick nod.
By the time we get to the end of the line, I’ve said hello to Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, who own the antique shop, Ben and Julia, the couple in charge of the youth group at my church, and Mrs. Howard, who taught Brighton piano before she switched to the violin.
There are a few tourists mixed in with the locals, but it feels like everyone is looking at Emberly. And why wouldn’t they? In a sea of shorts and tank tops, she’s wearing a red dress. With no back. Emberly might as well be wearing a bikini.
Dad taught me about being respectful toward women, so I refuse to let my imagination take control. Again.
I keep my gaze focused straight ahead, silently urging Sue to scoop a little faster.
When we finally make it to the window, I try to put a little distance between Emberly, but Cab remains glued to her side. It’s obvious the three of us are together and Sue gives me a broad smile. And a wink.
I’ve been a regular at the Dairy Den since I was a toddler, and this is the first time she’s winked at me.
“Well, hello there!”
I never realized how loud Sue’s voice is. Several customers glance in our direction.
“Hi, Sue.” Cab goes up on her tiptoes and studies the sign posted in the window even though she orders the exact same thing every time we come here.
“Let me guess.” Sue taps her chin as if she’s deep in thought. “One peanut butter shake, two scoops of vanilla and …” Sue looks at Emberly. Waits.
“I’ll try a peanut butter shake, too, please.”
“Good choice! Whipped cream? Sprinkles?”
“Yes.”
Sue grins.
Emberly is digging in her purse, but I hand Sue the money to cover all three.
Even though this isn’t a date.
Something I want to make clear to Sue when she winks at me again.
I hand Cab her shake and look around.
“It’s pretty crowded. We should probably take it to-go.”
“There’s a table!” Cab trots away to claim it, leaving me no choice but to follow.
Emberly falls into step beside me and I can feel the curious looks being cast our way.
I slide into one of the benches and Emberly sits down next to Cab. She ignores the straw in her glass and dives in with the spoon.
“This is delicious, Iris.”
“Told you!” Cab pulls the straw out of her glass and sucks the ice cream off the end to clear a blockage.
“Your vanilla looks good, too, Will,” Emberly says.
Our eyes meet across the table. The smile that teases the corners of her lips makes me think the innocent comment wasn’t so innocent.
Is she making fun of me?
“It’s a classic.” Why am I defending my choice?
“It is,” she agrees.
“I don’t need fancy sprinkles or whipped cream or shaved chocolate. They’re … distractions.”
“They’re fun,” Cab chimes in.
I don’t need fun, either. I need to get back to the resort and fix the tractor so I can mow the grass.
I’m halfway through my ice cream when a loud rumble drowns out the music pumping through the speakers Sue strategically tucked underneath the corners of the roof.
I don’t have to look over my shoulder to see what it is.
Knox is the only one in town whose truck has a diesel engine.
I slouch a little, but there’s really nowhere to hide. Why is he at the Den this time of day?
“I’m going to grab some more napkins.” Emberly stands up and I want to tell her to take her time.
I watch Knox hop out of his truck—yup, it’s the vehicle of choice when you live in an area where the snow practically comes up to your eyeballs in the winter—and look around. It suddenly occurs to me that he’s looking for his next first date.
“There’s Knox!”
Before I can shush her, Cab is on her feet, waving both arms like she’s stranded on a desert island.
Knox veers in our direction and plunks down on the bench next to me. Tweaks the end of Cab’s ponytail.
“Hey, Lily-of-the-Valley.”
Knox has been teasing Cab about her name since she was born. I think he knows the names of more flowers than Patti Mason, who owns a local landscaping business.
“What are you doing here?” It comes out sounding like an accusation.
Knox’s brows shoot up. “Nice to see you, too, buddy.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. “We’re in town to pick up a part for the tractor.”
“You don’t need a part. You need a new tractor.”
“Thanks for the diagnostic.” He’s right, but I can’t afford to replace an expensive piece of equipment right now. The only thing I can do is hope that the parts I bought will extend its longevity.
“I saw your truck and thought I’d stop and say hello.” Knox bumps Cab’s shoulder. “See if you ordered a peanut butter shake.”
She takes the hint and hands Knox her spoon.
“Did you find a replacement for Shannon yet?” If I keep talking, maybe he won’t notice Emberly.
I glance at the pick-up window just in time to see Sue hand over a bunch of napkins.
Emberly weaves through the tables and she might as well have waved a red flag because Knox’s head spins in her direction.
His eyes go wide and he releases a low whistle.
“Wow. Check that out.”
I pretend to look around even though I know Knox isn’t referring to a that. He’s referring to a who.
I scrape up the last bit of ice cream from the bottom of my dish. “We should be getting back—”
“She’s coming this way.”
Knox pulls out his charming smile as Emberly gets closer.
“Hello there.”
“Hi.” She smiles and sits down next to Cab.
Knox’s mouth opens and closes like a freshly caught perch. He also looks like a guy who just won the lottery.
“I’m Knox.”
“Emberly Lockwood.”
“And how is it that you picked this particular table, Emberly Lockwood.” Knox crosses his arms on the table and leans forward a little. Grins like he already knows the answer.
Emberly looks confused. “Because Will and Iris are sitting here?”
“She’s staying with us,” Cab interjects.
Now his head swivels toward me.
“Not with us,” I clarify. “At the resort.”
“Really?” Knox turns it into a four-syllable word.
Busted.
I refuse to look at him. “Cab, if you’re finished, we should head back. I have a lot to do today.”
“What about you, Emberly?” Knox turns on the charm again and for the first time in my life, I want to tell my best friend to get lost. “It’s taco Tuesday and karaoke at the Off-Road Grill tonight if you’re looking for something to do.”
“I love karaoke!” Cab looks at Knox hopefully.
“Sorry, Sunflower. Eighteen and up.”
Emberly stands up. “Thank you, Knox, but I already have plans for tonight.”
She does?
Did one of the guys from Sumac make a move while I was waiting for her at the house?
And what if they did?
I don’t have a claim on Emberly. She’s free to do whatever she wants.
Knox looks disappointed. And confused.
The unexpected dent in my best friend’s ego shouldn’t have me wrestling down a smile. Still, I can’t help but feel a little relieved that whatever plans Emberly made don’t include the Off-road Grill.