Chapter 23 #3
“You’re probably right, and I get that, I truly do.
This is going to sound like a wealthy man complaining, so apologies in advance.
I just…” I sigh. “I haven’t been given the opportunity to develop who I want to be and what I want to do.
I’ve never been afforded the chance. Expectations have been ingrained in me since day one of who I’m to live up to, and that has been without any thought or concern for what I want. ”
“What do you want then?” she asks, turning toward me.
“Honestly, the shitty part is, I have no idea. I haven’t been given the chance to explore and find out.
I’ve spent most of my life going to mind-numbing social engagements where I shook hands and smiled because that’s what I’d been told to do, and when I wasn’t doing that, I was fucking around with Rupert, just for an escape. ” Still am.
“Are you good at anything?”
“Being a prat.”
She chuckles. “Yes, you’re right about that, but anything else you might excel at?”
“Well, you know…” I wiggle my eyebrows, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Oh my God, Theo.”
“Yes, that’s usually what they say.”
Her expression falls flat. “Are you really going to be that guy?”
“It’s the only way I know how to be. You can attempt to fix me though. I can be very moldable.”
“You’re not a project I want to take on.”
“Might be the most rewarding though.”
“Doubtful.” She sips from her glass.
“Can you at least pretend that you tolerate me?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole night?”
“Busting my balls and making me beg for more.”
She smirks and then pats my hand. “Good boy.”
I let out a wallop of a laugh, and she surprisingly joins me.
“How did you spend your summers in Cape Meril?” I ask before taking another scoop of peach cobbler. When she said it’s shareable and the best dessert on the menu, I didn’t even think twice. And right now, it’s taking everything in me not to shovel the whole thing into my mouth.
Renley wipes at her mouth with her napkin and says, “Well, growing up here was kind of tough because we didn’t have a lot of money so I couldn’t do some of the things that other kids were doing, like going out sailing.
But my friend Rosalie and I would spend our time biking the nature trail and playing out in the woods.
We would bring these little animal figurines that Dad got me from the thrift store.
We would make animal villages out of dirt, sticks, and rocks.
Some of my best memories were those summers where we would spend almost all day out there. ”
“That’s so not what I thought you were going to say.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Well, you live by the beach. I thought it was going to be something ocean related.”
She shakes her head. “No, it was rare we went to the beach during tourist season. It was always so crowded. Although, there is a secret cove that the locals would go to on occasion if we needed the beach fix.”
“Was it a cove for kids or adults?”
“A mixture—let’s say kids during the day, adults at night.”
“Got it. So do you and Rosalie ever go back on the trail for memory’s sake?”
She shakes her head. “No. Rosalie moved when I was in sixth grade. It was pretty tough honestly, because she was my only real friend. After that, I spent the weekends helping my dad.” Her lips purse as if she’s not happy that she just divulged that.
“What would you help him with?” I ask, not wanting to pry, but also not wanting to let it go when she’s finally opening up to me.
She scoops up some cobbler, chews, and then says, “On the weekends, he’d take a metal detector and comb the beach.
I’d help him.” She clears her throat. “It was…humiliating. I hated it. Dad would bring his findings to a pawn shop and that’s how he’d bring in extra money.
The town thought he was nuts, pathetic, and desperate.
I kept helping him because they wouldn’t chirp mean things to him when I was around. ”
“Jesus,” I say, thinking how loathsome that is. “I’m sorry, Renley. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
She shrugs. “It sucked, but Ira, who owned the candy store, he was the only one who was nice to us. We’d go into the store and he’d ask us if we found anything good. We’d laugh about all the phones and watches—a lot of Rolexes—we discovered. The candy shop was a bit of a safe haven for us.”
“And that’s why you want to bring it back to life,” I say, everything coming full circle.
“I want others to find comfort in the store.” She sets her fork down and stares out at the water. “The shitty thing is, the town is waiting for me to mess it up. They don’t want me to succeed.”
“Why wouldn’t they want that?” I ask.
“Because there are laws within the town that say any business that has been established before a certain time, I want to say before the 1960s, must be put through town review to find a new owner to continue its legacy. They see it as a historic thing. But if they can’t find an owner that will take over the business or it fails, then the storefront is put up for auction, meaning anyone can put in a bid to start a new business. ”
“Really?”
She nods. “When Rudder’s was going up for bid applications, I had the crazy idea to try to bring it back to life, but we had to have the capital for it.
Aunt Kitty said she had it, but she didn’t.
It was a whole miscommunication thing. Anyway, the business society was betting on the fact, given my family’s history in town, that if they put me in charge, I was going to mess it up and then they could bring the storefront to auction.
Apparently, there is a big chain that wants to come into town and offer a lot of money to do so. ”
“So they thought, give it to you, let you screw up, and then they can give the storefront away.”
She slowly nods.
“Well, that’s all kinds of fucked up.”
“Tell me about it.” She sighs as she stares out at the ocean.
We’re silent for a moment, and as her story sits on my chest and I ruminate, it makes me angrier.
The fucking nerve, to just believe that someone is going to fail, that’s…fuck…that’s something I’m so goddamn familiar with.
“What are you thinking over there?” she asks. “You look angry.”
“Just thinking how I understand the feeling of people not believing in you. I know it all too well.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, hating that she’s going through the same thing. “It’s on a different scale, but I still know the feeling.”
“I don’t doubt you,” she says. “Just because our lives are different and we come from different backgrounds doesn’t mean that we can’t experience the same feelings of being let down and hurt.”
Christ, that might be the first time someone has ever said that to me.
That someone has taken my feelings into consideration and not brushed them aside.
And I know she jokes around with me a lot, and there might be some tension there because of how we met, but I can also see her kind heart, her softer side, and it’s making…
fuck, it’s making me see her in a completely different light.
Like I want to get to know her more, and not because I’m trying to prove my father wrong, but because I’m starting to care about her.
Hell, I think I’m starting to grow feelings. And that has never happened before because I’ve never allowed myself to be this open…this vulnerable. And I wonder if Renley feels the same.