Chapter 4
“How’s it going?” Remy asked Muriel as she walked up to the counter.
Muriel looked up from her phone. She worked the front register of the market as her aunt Remy and Emil, Remy’s father-in-law, ran the rest. The quaint local market reminded her of the many country stores around New Hampshire, which sold local products like honey and maple syrup and other specialty items. But in this market, it was their fresh lobster and fish people came for.
And Jacob O’Neill’s mural.
They came more for the mural than the lobster. But in return, whoever came in to see the infamous mural would end up buying something from the store. And it was almost always lobster caught by Remy’s husband, Colby.
Her aunt ran things, but Emil owned the market. Muriel loved watching her aunt at work. Always confident, she could talk to any kind of customer, from the local fisherman dropping off his catch to the tourist visiting for the weekend.
Muriel discovered, like her aunt, she too had the gift of gab. She enjoyed talking to the men coming in off the boats, showing off the largest lobster from their catch or seeing the pride in their faces when she showed her amazement at it all. She didn’t know the kind of wine that paired well with fish or the cheese that should go with it, but she loved asking the customers. What made that wine or that cheese go well together? Why did certain fish need certain blends? She enjoyed learning and so many people who came into the store offered time to talk because Blueberry Bay encouraged everyone to slow down.
Living in Concord after growing up outside of Boston seemed slow, but molasses ran faster than the people around here in Blueberry Bay. Even the waves dragged to shore slower than the shores on the Cape.
“Fine,” Muriel said, shutting off her social media.
“You should stop looking at that thing,” Remy suggested for the dozenth time that morning. “It’s just making you overthink everything. The best thing you could do is get off your phone during a breakup.”
Muriel dropped her head back and looked up at the ceiling, tossing her phone aside. “Ugh. I know. You’re right, it’s just so hard when he’s going out all the time and posting about it.”
Night after night, new posts of Zack enjoying his new freedom of bachelorhood were plastered all over his and everyone else’s social media posts. He showed up to all their mutual friends’ beach days and barbeques and ended his nights with bar crawls. He was everywhere with everyone. And no one had invited her to any of it.
She had been completely cut out.
“Do you think you could help watch the kids this weekend?” Remy asked. “Colby and I haven’t had a moment to ourselves, and we’d like to go out on the boat for the day.”
“Of course, sounds nice.” Muriel nodded. She had hoped her aunt would ask sooner. She loved having little cousins. It was a first for Muriel. Her father had been an only child and Remy, her only aunt, hadn’t had children up until this point.
“Thank you so much, Muriel,” Remy said.
“It’s really no problem at all,” Muriel played with her phone. “I can help out more if you ever need it. It’s not like I have anything going on.”
“You’re the best, Muriel,” Remy said. “I’m so glad you came to Blueberry Bay for the summer.”
Remy reached out for a hug and Muriel melted into her aunt.
Remy had always been, by far, the coolest person on the face of the earth. She would have her and Cora sleep over when their parents took Ryan to all his baseball tournaments. They would stay at her big, beautiful house and be treated like royalty. But the best part of her aunt had been her undivided attention to them. She had planned their visits with activities they all loved and adventures they hadn’t even imagined, like whale watches and treasure hunts.
Now, Remy was a mom to two kids who deserved someone as awesome as her aunt.
“I want to help,” Muriel said, but guilt washed through her as her aunt squeezed her harder. She wasn’t there to help but to escape.
Remy let go and stepped back when little feet stomped through the market.
“Mommy!” Matthew’s teeny voice said from behind the fish counter.
“Hey, baby.” Remy knelt down to the little boy running toward her with a piece of paper. “I drew a lobster for Grandpop.”
Coming out from the back with Emil was Gordon and Colby.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Remy said, walking right over to her husband and kissing him on the lips.
Wow had things changed. Remy was now remarried and a mom. Somewhere out there her father had this whole new life. Her mother and sister and brother did, too. Everyone around her had new loves and friendships and careers. Toss aside the old. On with the new.
Muriel didn’t know where she fit besides with the old. Old daughter. Old girlfriend. Old niece. Old grandchild.
“Muriel, want to see my lobster?” Matthew stuck his dimpled finger on his drawing.
“Wow! That’s an amazing lobster.” The orange lobster looked half-correct, except for the blue eyes and smile. “You can tell you worked really hard on this.”
“We went to the library and read a book on lobstermen like my daddy.” Matthew tapped a boat behind the lobster that was a sixth of the size of the crustacean.
“Is that your daddy?” Muriel asked him.
Matthew nodded with pride. “He’s wearing his overalls.”
On the boat, Matthew pointed to an orange dot that Muriel had thought was another lobster but realized it was the rubber overalls the fishermen wear on the boats.
“It’s a spitting image,” Muriel joked as Colby came up from behind and took a look at himself on the boat.
“That’s me?” Colby asked.
“Yup!” Matthew ran to Colby and hugged his leg. “I want to go on the boat.” Matthew’s voice immediately switched to a whine.
“Not today, buddy,” Colby said in a fatherly tone.
Muriel didn’t want to lose her aunt to any man, but if she had to find one that made Remy happier than ever, it would be Colby. Maybe that was why Muriel had never seen anything wrong with Remy’s relationship with her uncle Joe. They’d never spent much time together. She couldn’t see the problems when there was nothing to see.
She thought about all the nights she’d stayed home while Zack went out with his law school friends. She’d had to go to bed early to get up for her job. Zack had seemed to always find time to go out with his friends. She hadn’t given him a hard time, and she’d never seen the problem. Until now. He’d had a life without her, and she had wrapped her life around him.
Muriel glanced at the mural, then, loudly over the conversation of the drawing, said, “It’s the boat.”
“What?” Remy asked.
Muriel pointed to the mural where Jacob O’Neill, her mother’s biological father, had painted a red-and-white lobster boat. “Matthew painted Jacob’s boat.”
Matthew jumped up and down with the paper.
Remy and Colby looked to the mural, then back to the drawing, and back to the mural. “Did you copy the boat from the mural?”
Matthew nodded, beaming at the recognition.
“Well done, Matthew!” Remy said. “Are you going to be an artist, too?”
“Yup!” Matthew said without hesitation.
This made Remy laugh in delight. “Well, that sounds like a wonderful plan.”
She squeezed Matthew into a big hug as Colby looked on with admiration. Muriel could feel a little tug at her heart. She hoped to have that one day. A family.
“We’ll see you later, Muriel.” Remy waved at Muriel then took hold of Matthew’s hand.
“You need anything from us before we go?” Colby asked, looking around the store. “Emil will be in the back if you need any help with the meat and fish counter.”
“I’ll be fine,” Muriel said, slowly pushing the happy family out of the store. “Emil and I have everything under control.”
Muriel did have everything almost under control. The few weeks she had worked at the store had been enough time for her to get to know where everything was located and she knew enough now that she could help the customers with their basic needs.
“Hey,” said a young woman’s voice.
Muriel turned around to see Sadie standing there.
“Hey,” Muriel said back. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, I’m bored,” she said. “And Matthew’s having quiet time at home, so I decided to come and help at the store.”
“That’s awfully nice,” Muriel said. The teenager showed up at the store often. “You really like to help out.”
Sadie shrugged. “I have nothing else to do.”
“What about your friends?” Muriel asked, understanding what Sadie meant. The reason why she worked at a fish market in Maine. “You should ask them to hang out.”
“I’m not hanging out with them anymore,” Sadie said, pulling a string on her shirt.
“What happened with those girls you brought in the other day?” Muriel had seen them all laughing and joking around. Sadie had looked like she fit right in.
Sadie looked down at her nails. “They’re hanging out at the beach today, I guess. They didn’t invite me.”
“Uff,” Muriel said. “That stinks.”
Sadie looked out the window, rolling her eyes. “It’s whatever. I didn’t want to hang out with them today anyway.”
Muriel knew she was lying. She could feel the girl’s sadness radiating out of her. “You should invite someone else and go anyways.”
Sadie whipped her head around and shook it vehemently. “Uh, no. They’ll know I’m just creeping around and that’s worse.”
“This may sound like the worse piece of advice, but just let them go to the beach, and try not to give it any more thought.” Muriel had heard this in a podcast. “You can’t control what others do or who they invite, but you can rise above and move on.”
Sadie just stared at her.
That was when the piece of advice smacked her in the face. All those weeks in Maine, she had been sitting in her own misery, scouring social media, when she couldn’t control Zack. She couldn’t control what he did now or back when they were together. She couldn’t force him to marry her either. And wasn’t that what she’d been doing at the end of their relationship?
Ugh. Who had she become? She needed to let him go.
“Just let them,” Muriel repeated mostly for herself but for Sadie, too.
“Excuse me,” a man’s voice said from the other side of the counter.
Muriel swung around and saw a tall, handsome man with wet hair standing in a sweatshirt, shorts, and flip-flops, holding a basket.
“The surfer,” Muriel whispered before she could stop herself.
He smiled and his blue eyes glowed in the sunlight coming through the windows.
“Mr. Abbott!” Sadie’s face appeared surprised but delighted as well. “How’s your summer?”
“Oh, can’t complain. You?” he asked Sadie.
“Were you surfing this morning by Queen’s Beach?” she asked, hoping he’d recognize her mother’s name for the small private beach.
He smiled, showing off a dazzling grin that even Muriel couldn’t help but notice. “Yes, earlier this morning.”
But something about him seemed familiar besides seeing him out on the water. Then it hit her like a slap in the face just as his face contorted in recognition. He pointed his finger at her just as she remembered where she had seen surfer guy before.
“You’re the woman from Concord,” he said, gaining Sadie’s attention. “On the sidewalk.”
Muriel shot a look at the young girl, then back to him. Of course, the one guy in town had to have seen her in her worst moment.
“Me?” She was so embarrassed.
“Are you from Blueberry Bay?” he asked her, tilting his head in curiosity.
Thankfully, he wasn’t questioning her about her behavior that night in Concord, so she carried on as if he hadn’t seen her breakdown in the middle of the street.
“I’m just visiting for the summer,” she said, then looked at her apron. “And working here. But just for the summer. I’m a teacher, too, actually.”
“Ah, a fellow educator.” Then he leaned against the counter, covering the side of his mouth, and said, “We do it for the summers off.” He gave a nod to Sadie and did something Muriel hadn’t seen many people do. He made Sadie smile.
“Is that why you make us do all those field studies and science labs at the beach all the time?” Sadie said in a complaint, but clearly wasn’t complaining. “I think we should be paid for what you made us do this year.”
“Are you kidding me? You didn’t love collecting microorganism samples from the beach?” Mr. Abbott held out his hands in dismay. “I can’t believe you’d rather sit in a classroom.”
Sadie shook her head and began arguing with her teacher. “It was freezing. You made us walk all the way there and then all the way back.”
Suddenly, Mr. Abbott slanted his head, pinching his eyebrows together. “Why aren’t you down at the beach enjoying this beautiful day?”
“I don’t feel like it,” Sadie said, picking at her nails. Her shoulders curved in like a shell.
“Aren’t you friends with the girls from class?” he asked. “Gia and Alana?”
Sadie shrugged, but didn’t look up from her fingernails.
“Ah, left you out of the group invite?” Mr. Abbott said.
Right away, Muriel could tell Mr. Abbott was good with the kids just by the way he had picked up on the situation.
Sadie rolled her eyes once again. “I don’t care.”
“I would,” he said. “It would hurt my feelings.”
Muriel suddenly felt so stupid having given this poor girl such bad advice when she was going through the exact experience with friends as she was going through with Zack. Just let them go. What was she thinking?
“And you’re…?” Mr. Abbott looked at Muriel.
Sadie looked at Muriel as an extra employee. “She’s somehow related to me.” A laugh escaped Muriel as Sadie continued to sulk. “I think we’re like cousins? But through marriage.”
“Her uncle married my aunt,” Muriel explained, feeling her cheeks warm.
“So does that make you related to Jacob O’Neill, too?” he asked, looking at both Sadie and Muriel.
Muriel smiled and said, “Yes. He’s my grandfather.”
Sadie’s attention went to her phone.
“Oh, cool.” He said, putting the basket on the counter. “What do you teach?”
“Third grade,” she said, ringing up the basket.
“I don’t know how you handle the little kids,” he said, shaking his head.
“How do you deal with preadolescents?” That in and of itself was impressive.
“Not easily,” he said, laughing more. The science teacher had a great laugh.
“What grade?” Muriel asked.
“Well, it’s a small school, K through eight, so I teach all the middle grades.”
“Whoa,” Muriel said, surprised. “How many grades is that?”
“Fifth through eighth,” he said it as if it was no big deal, but in the teaching world, it was a very big deal.
“Four grades?” She couldn’t imagine the prep involved with teaching four grades. “That’s crazy.”
“Third graders are crazier, believe me,” he said. “Besides, I can wrangle my students and take them to the beach all day.” He let out another thoughtful laugh, then added, “It’s a lot of fun, actually. Except when they have gym. There’s nothing fun about the smells that come out of the locker room.”
“I’m Oliver, by the way.” He gave her a smile as he extended his hand toward her, and something swept through Muriel. An energy floated through her as they touched.
Whoa. What was that?
“I’m Muriel,” she said suddenly forgetting what she was doing.
“Hi, Muriel.” He kept his gaze on her as he held her hand in his.
“Is this all that you want today or is there anything I can help you find?” Muriel asked as she let go.
“This is it, thanks.” He gestured toward the items on the counter along with one of her aunt’s baskets she created for the market.
“This is a great basket,” Muriel said, as she put the extra items in a bag. People on vacation loved to have a basket filled with items they needed for a lobster dinner or a clam bake—or like the one Mr. Abbott chose, a romantic dinner on the beach. “Special night?”
Ugh, she couldn’t believe she was digging.
He smiled but didn’t answer at first. Did she detect some hesitation?
“You could say that.” He pulled out his wallet as the total came up on the register, then swiped his credit card.
“Well, enjoy,” she said.
“Thanks, I will.” Oliver grabbed the basket. He hesitated at the counter and opened his mouth to say something when he turned to Sadie and said, “There are a few kids from school who meet me at the beach to go surfing. You should join us. Cousins are invited, too.”
Sadie immediately sat up. Her jaw dropped at the invitation. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Think about it,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Muriel.”
“Nice meeting you, too.” Muriel waited patiently for him to leave the store so she could ask Sadie about Mr. Abbott.
As soon as he was out of the store, Muriel turned to Sadie. “So, do you like your teacher?”
Sadie shrugged. “Yeah, he’s a good teacher.”
Muriel thought about her science teachers back in middle school. Mr. Ranta certainly didn’t look like that. “I bet all the girls are in love with him.”
Sadie nodded. “He’s really nice, too. I heard he has a girlfriend.”
“Well, he bought the basket for someone,” Muriel watched Sadie’s teacher drive away.
“He’s like uber-rich,” Sadie said suddenly.
“Your teacher is uber-rich?”
Sadie nodded. “His family is some rich tech family.”
“That’s nice,” Muriel wondered what a rich tech family was doing in Blueberry Bay and why he would be teaching if he didn’t have to. “You should take him up on that offer and go surfing. It sounds like fun.”
“I think he wanted you to go,” Sadie said, playing with the ends of her hair. “You should ask him out. Mr. Abbott’s wicked hot.”
“Eww, Sadie, that’s your teacher,” Muriel reminded her. “Didn’t you just say he had a girlfriend.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t really mean anything,” Sadie said.
“Yes, actually, it means he has a girlfriend.” Muriel started tidying up the area around the register.
“I’d rather die than see Gia,” Sadie said. “She’s the meanest of them all.”
Muriel wondered what thirteen-year-old Muriel would have done. She probably wouldn’t go either if the mean girls had already picked on her, especially if she had to go alone. She hated that shy, insecure Muriel. “I’ll go with you.”
Then a flashback of her standing outside the restaurant in Concord, crying in front of a wedding shop, made her cringe. Maybe she shouldn’t go.
“I don’t know…” Sadie hesitated and Muriel recognized that feeling. A part of Sadie did want to go.
“I’ve been wanting to go to the beach but haven’t gotten myself there. I’d love to watch.” Muriel tapped her fingers against the counter.
“I don’t even have a surfboard,” Sadie said, pulling her hair in front of her face, hiding behind it.
Muriel knew where they could find some. “I know Kyle will have some.”
Sadie let out a long huff. “But what about Gia and her friends. Those girls will be at the beach.”
Muriel hadn’t forgotten that feeling of being a target of mean girls. “I know what that feels like, but you can’t stop living just because some girl is a jerk.”
“Girls,” Sadie corrected. “All the girls in my grade are jerks. They’ll take photos or make a meme of me wiping out.”
“You can’t change what those girls think, but you can continue to be you. And you’ll be the one who’s surfing with your hot teacher,” Muriel said. “Besides everyone looks cool surfing.”