Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Bower
“That’s the last one.” I lifted a case of hard seltzers onto the bar.
The truck had just dropped off a pallet of them.
It had taken me several trips to bring them all inside.
It was what everyone was drinking these days.
Not that I would know. I was almost nine years sober.
Fortunately being around the bar didn’t tempt me.
I’d realized at a young age that alcohol didn’t make me feel better—instead it made everything worse.
“Thanks, Bower,” Dean said. “I’m going to need a hand behind the bar tonight. We have a bachelorette party coming in.”
He’d been promoted to bar manager a few years ago by my grandpa while I’d been away. He was still a good friend after all these years. Keeping in touch when I was overseas, letting me know when I was needed back home.
This was my first summer back at the resort since I’d been seventeen. Most things were still the same—weekly rentals coming in on Saturdays, weekend rentals on Fridays. Bachelorette parties hitting up the bar on a Friday night was nothing new.
“Sure thing.” I tapped my hand on the bar before turning around to head back to check on the kitchen.
I stuck my head through the swinging doors. “All good?” I asked Tim, our cook, who was elbow deep in onions, chopping them up for burgers tonight.
He gave me a nod as he scooped the onions and threw them onto a hot skillet. The onion juices snapped and popped against the sizzling surface, and I flinched. Sometimes it was little things that affected me, reminded me of the sounds I’d heard during my time in the Marines.
I backed out of the kitchen before another noise could trigger a full flashback. I didn’t have time for that—I had a resort to run.
“I’ll be back before dinner!” I yelled in Dean’s direction before I stepped outside. I’d help him out with dinner service, disappear for my Friday-night shower while the fireworks popped off, and then work behind the bar until we closed up.
Nothing had changed. That had to be the biggest shock when I’d gotten back last month. It was like stepping into a time machine, returning to the summer when I’d been seventeen, right before I’d left.
I’d been an idiot as a kid, made my grandparents’ lives a living hell. Still, they’d welcomed me back nine years later with open arms. Grandpa said I felt different. Sure, I’d put on some muscle during my time in the Marines and could finally grow a decent beard, but I knew he meant something else.
All the mischief had been beaten out of me in the time I’d spent in the National Guard Youth Challenge Program to finish out high school.
As soon as I’d turned eighteen, there had been no question that I was going to enlist in the Marines.
The structure the program provided had changed my character.
I’d still been young and a little dumb, but at least after my time at the academy, I’d had a purpose—I’d found out I was good at making quick decisions and leading my comrades.
By the time I’d found my footing in the Marines, all that young, dumb energy had been replaced with grit and a strong work ethic.
I wasn’t some drunken teenager anymore headed down the wrong path—I had a drive, I was a leader.
It had felt good to know that others looked to me for direction, trusted me to lead them.
I’d never wanted to screw that up. I’d never wanted to revert back to that kid who’d caused trouble and hadn’t cared who it’d caused trouble for.
That had meant leaving Agate Harbors and my past behind—the best I could.
All that had changed when Dean had reached out last year.
Somehow, a year ago, he had gotten ahold of my commanding officer’s contact info.
Dean’s urgency had been enough that the commanding officer had ignored my wishes for no phone calls and insisted I talk with Dean.
My friend had been calm but direct: Things were changing at Agate Harbors, and it was time to come home.
It’d taken me six months to finish my tour and get back to the resort.
I’d hardly talked to anyone back home for the last nine years.
It wasn’t for my family’s lack of trying—it was my choice.
I’d been angry enough at my grandparents in the beginning that I hadn’t responded to my grandma’s letters, and eventually she’d stopped sending them.
Dean had sent me letters every couple of months.
I’d responded sporadically, asking about the resort and sometimes about her… mostly about her.
I didn’t do email, and everyone in my platoon knew that I wouldn’t take phone calls.
The letters were one thing—I could receive an envelope and choose whether to open it.
Emails had a subject line that I could shy away from, but I couldn’t escape what someone said on the phone.
I hadn’t wanted to feel those emotions—not when I’d needed to focus on my career in the Marines.
Maybe it had been selfish, but a large part of me had wanted to put a bit of distance between myself and all those Agate Harbors memories.
There’d been a lot of good memories, but also so many I wished I could forget.
That hadn’t stopped Mia from popping into my mind now and then, but all I’d had to do was picture that look of disappointment across her face and I’d remember why I’d left—that I’d needed to change, to become a better person.
I’d made a fool of myself on that beach all those years ago.
I’d known I was on thin ice with my grandparents, but I hadn’t taken their threats seriously.
They’d already been claiming that they were going to stop bailing me out, going to send me to a military school, but I’d always seen their words as hollow threats.
It’d come as a shock to me when I’d woken up the next morning still in the cell, the image of Mia’s face slowly getting smaller and smaller as the boat drove away lingering in my mind.
I’d been embarrassed. I’d disappointed her.
And worse—I’d put her at risk of getting into trouble.
There’d been no chance for explaining myself or apologizing, because that was the last time I’d seen her.
Now I was back where it had all started, where my messy slate was waiting for me. Now I had to prove to everyone who remembered me that I was different, changed—a responsible adult who didn’t shoot holes in bottoms of boats and didn’t have run-ins with the cops every weekend.
For the most part, everyone had forgiven me for my teenage shenanigans, welcoming me with open arms, ready to give me another chance.
I’d taken over a lot of the day-to-day management of the resort from my grandpa.
He had been willing and grateful for someone to step in and help out, and I was happy to put my leadership skills I’d gained from the Marines to work.
There was one person I hadn’t seen yet—who I might not see now that she had grown up. Her family’s standing reservation wasn’t until the week of the Fourth of July, and for all I knew she might not even come up with her parents anymore.
I spied a flash of white hair along the docks of the marina, pulling my thoughts away from Mia.
Damnit. Who was supposed to be watching her? It took me a minute to get down to the marina, as the lodge was on higher ground. I booked it down the set of steps built into the hillside, ignoring the handrail.
“Grandma!” I yelled, but my voice didn’t carry far enough. She was climbing into one of the resorts motorboats. The boat key in her hand glittered in the sunlight. “Stop!”
My feet hit the wooden boards of the dock, and I ran, leaping over the water between the docks to get to her faster. After my fourth jump, I slowed. “Grandma, don’t get in the boat.” My heartbeat wildly in my chest even though I wasn’t out of breath. “Give me the keys.”
“I don’t need some boy telling me what to do!” Her eyes were wide, her voice angry. “This is my resort. I’ll go where I please.”
My eyes closed as I let out an exhale. Calm, I needed to be calm. I still wasn’t used to the Grandma I’d come home to. She wasn’t the same one I’d said goodbye to nine years ago.
“Can I have the keys, please?” I kept my voice level. “Let me drive you.”
She eyed me, scowling. “Do you work here? One of the boys Gill hired for the summer?”
I looked down at my feet. It never got easier, however many times she didn’t recognize me. “Yeah, Gill hired me.”
“Fine, drive me somewhere away from that awful girl. She’s been up my ass all morning.” The swearing was something new too. The Grandma I knew never swore.
She held out the keys, and I snatched them from her hand before she changed her mind.
There was no way she should be driving a boat.
I’d have to get Caleb, who I’d hired to work in maintenance, to install a lockbox with a combination code on the keys in the marina.
She couldn’t have access anymore. We’d done the same thing with the car keys at the house.
They sat in a lockbox in the garage. The code was my birthdate, which she didn’t remember.
“Betty!” The dock shook as someone stepped onto the boards. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Bower. I went to the bathroom, and she was gone.” Chloe, Caleb’s wife, carefully walked along the dock toward us. “I can only waddle so quickly!”
Chloe was eight months pregnant with their first. Caleb had left the Marines a year before I had to marry her. I’d served five years with him and my buddy Gus, and I considered them my brothers.
We’d eaten together, played cards together, slept in the same bunkhouse.
We’d been part of a larger group of marines there to assist Syrian forces in their efforts against ISIS.
Sometimes that meant helping patrol parts of the cities we were stationed around.
It wasn’t often that we’d been under fire, but it had happened.
We’d always had to be watching, scanning, aware, but sometimes we hadn’t seen the militants until it was too late.
When I’d gotten back this summer, I’d hired Caleb on as the head of maintenance for the resort.
He’d needed a new job, and I knew he was a hard worker.
Plus, the resort needed some serious upkeep.
My grandpa and I couldn’t do everything.
They stayed in one of the two-bedroom cabins in the resort next to Dean’s one-bedroom place, across the gravel road from my small studio cabin.
I wished I could’ve hired Gus as well—but that hadn’t worked out.
“It’s fine, Chloe,” I said, watching her to make sure she hadn’t overexerted herself coming down here.
Chloe usually ended up watching Grandma during the day, as it had gotten to be too much for my grandpa to be her sole caretaker twenty-four seven.
Grandpa spent his time puttering around the resort, trying to tackle various projects.
There was always something that needed fixing, but I knew the real reason was he had a hard time when Grandma didn’t recognize him, which was often.
I didn’t blame him. Losing your partner like that? Slowly, then all at once. Watching them become a shell of a person. It would be hard for anyone. Grandma had been slipping away for the last seven years.
“That’s the girl! That horrible girl who’s been up my ass all day!” Grandma pointed a finger at Chloe.
“Watch your language, Betty. Babies can hear inside the womb,” Chloe scolded.
Grandma glanced down at Chloe’s swollen belly and quickly closed her lips.
Chloe had a sharp tongue and wasn’t easily offended.
She’d been a godsend to my grandpa and me.
But there was only a month left until Chloe had her baby, and I needed to figure out care for Grandma by the end of the summer. Another task for me to do.
I ran my hand through my hair. It was longer now that I was out of the service. There hadn’t been any time to get a haircut.
Chloe reached out, and Grandma tentatively placed her hand inside Chloe’s. “There we go.” Chloe helped her out of the boat. “Let’s get back to the cabin, and I’ll make you some tea. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Tea, yes. That sounds nice.” Grandma held Chloe’s hand as she led her off the dock and to the stairs up to my grandparents’ cabin.
I should talk to Caleb about installing some sort of barrier or fence at the top.
Just to deter her from coming down to the boats.
I trailed behind them a bit, not wanting to spook my grandmother further.
She didn’t know me. She had only recognized me twice since I’d gotten back, fleeting moments before a glaze had once again covered her eyes.
I put the key back on the empty hook next to the other resort boat keys. Like most things at Agate Harbors, the boats were old and in need of repair or replacement. I added it to my ever-growing mental to-do list to look into getting a few new boats once we had the funds.
First things first: Getting ready for this weekend’s events.
There was a bachelorette group coming in tonight.
The reservation had been put under the name of an elementary school in the Twin Cities—first time I’d seen that.
Maybe we’d be getting a bunch of teachers up here, looking to let loose.
We needed to attract more parties like that to the resort.
It guaranteed a large cabin rental and big spending at the resort bar.
Agate Harbors needed money, and maybe hosting more of those big parties would bring it in.
Maybe this city-girl bachelorette had city-girl friends who were also engaged and looking for a place to have their own last-fling parties. I’d have to introduce myself to the group—I needed to make sure Agate Harbors looked good so I could keep business rolling in.