Chapter 10 #2
Two blinks later, I was immersed. Despite it being early, Edgartown’s Main Street was a scene.
There were cars tightly parked on the road and plenty of people wandering up and down brick sidewalks sipping iced coffees and walking dogs.
Teenagers moved in packs across the green-painted crosswalks while college kids jaywalked without a care in the world, too busy laughing at each other’s jokes.
Traffic was at a standstill, a sea of red brake lights.
I suspected Connor knew a shortcut to the yacht club but was battling Main Street for my benefit.
I did a double take at the Old Whaling Church’s soaring white pillars.
Take your picture for Annie! my mind screamed.
Farther down the street, a blue mermaid swam on the sign for a boutique called Nell.
Scoops Ice Cream was on the corner. “We don’t go there,” Finn informed me after I asked if he was a waffle cone guy. “We only go to Mad Martha’s.”
I nodded. “Noted.”
The Edgartown Yacht Club was a historic cedar-shingled clubhouse on the harbor, a red-white-and-blue triangular flag waving in the salty breeze and all types of boats moored in the water.
Everything from tiny dinghies to sweet sailboats to a gigantic wood-paneled yacht.
I couldn’t unlock my phone fast enough to take a photo, knowing Bryce would be agog.
Meanwhile, the modest parking lot had more or less turned into an elementary school drop-off line.
When Connor pulled up to the front of the clubhouse, Teddy and Finn quickly unbuckled their seat belts and climbed out of the Jeep.
“Murdick’s afterward?” Connor asked by way of goodbye and got a pair of grins in reply.
It was adorable.
Connor shifted the car back into drive once a camp counselor had visibly checked in the brothers. I liked that their “manny” had waited. “Okay,” I started when he pulled into a recently deserted spot to recalibrate. “Now will you tell—”
“Connor, hey!” someone called. “How’s it going?”
I turned to see a familiar-looking blond guy walking toward us, double-fisting coffees and a pastry bag. “Aw, Wit,” Connor said. “You shouldn’t have.” He held out his hand for a to-go cup. “Vanilla latte, I hope?”
“With two percent.” Meredith’s husband smiled then started to pass the coffee to Connor before suddenly swerving. “Which is also my bride’s milk of choice!”
Connor shook his head. “Where is Meredith?”
Wit nodded toward the yacht club. “Wink asked her to do him a favor, so she walked in with Claire—”
“Claire?” My gasp was embarrassing. “Claire Dupré?”
Why was I so invested in this?
“Yes…” Wit looked both confused and amused. “When did you meet my goddaughter?”
“She hasn’t,” Connor answered as I blushed. “But she’s heard the glowing reviews.”
“Ah,” Wit said. “Finn.” He took a sip of his coffee, keeping Claire’s feelings—or lack thereof—close to the vest. “What are you up to today?”
“Connor is taking me to an undisclosed location,” I said, then shrugged. “He’s kicking himself for forgetting the blindfold.”
Wit raised an intrigued eyebrow, and Connor waved him over to whisper in his ear. “Of course,” Wit said. “Because starting simple, with a lighthouse, is overrated.”
“Totally,” Connor agreed. “We should start with a cannonball.”
“Or a dive,” Wit cryptically quipped. “Maybe even a flip.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, curiosity now coursing through my veins. A lighthouse—maybe Annie’s lighthouse—sounded perfectly good to me.
Connor popped open his center console and pulled out a classic red bandanna. “You’ll see not long after you put this on.”
* * *
With my sight gone, I focused on my other senses.
The briny air whipping through my hair, the sun on my shoulders, and the Coldplay song pulsing through the Jeep’s speakers.
Connor sang along, completely off-key, and every now and again, he flipped his blinker or stopped at a red light.
“Oh, perfect!” he said at one point. “A spot!”
I reached to pull off my blindfold. “We’re here?”
“Not yet,” he told me. “You do not need to see me parallel park…”
Three excruciatingly long minutes later, Connor cut the ignition and tugged off the bandanna. “I don’t know what your parking strategy is,” I said. “Because it didn’t feel like there was one, so you should try imagining your steering wheel as a pizza…”
Connor nodded, and nodded, and pleasantly nodded until I’d finished explaining how Erica—of all people—had taught me to parallel park. Then he smiled and said: “Look around, Olivia.”
I blinked to see that Connor had parked the Jeep in a long line of cars on the side of the road.
Wetlands were on one side while the other looked out to sea, boats bobbing on the calm water.
The vignette was beautiful, but what was so special about this place?
Or cool enough that Connor ranked it as a sightseeing cannonball?
Equipped with beach towels, Connor and I ducked around the cars and started walking along the road’s shoulder, and up ahead…
My stomach plummeted, because up ahead was what Erica had called the “Jaws Bridge.” We’d driven over it two days ago, on our way to the house.
People had been practically pushing and shoving to launch themselves into the air, and today was no different.
The bridge crawled with jumpers, at least twelve people balancing on the railing’s top rung.
I saw two tween girls take the plunge holding hands, but even that cuteness didn’t buoy me.
“Hey.” Connor was suddenly in my face, wide-eyed and caring. I took a step backward; he was too close. “Are you—”
“Are we going to jump?” I asked, as if it were a question.
He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s tradition!”
“Have you done it before?”
Another nod. “My second day, with Teddy and Finn.”
“What?”
The brothers were so young!
“Oh, no—absolutely not,” Connor quickly reframed. “It was their idea to drive out here, but they watched me jump from the beach.”
Okay, I let out a deep breath. Phew.
“It’s incredible,” he added.
“Even if you don’t do heights?” I mumbled.
“You’re scared of heights?”
“Yes.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Thank you for asking.”
Connor turned toward the bridge, to consider. We were only several yards away now; something in me squirmed as I watched a man execute a perfect flip. His fellow jumpers cheered once he hit the water, a wide channel. Was there a current?
“Listen, I don’t love heights either,” Connor admitted. “I got stuck at the top of a roller coaster when I was ten, and it was terribly life-changing.” He motioned to the madness. “But this is a good kind of life-changing. You’ll see.”
I cocked my head. “Are you trying to twist my arm?”
Connor shook his head. “I’m not an arm-twister.”
“Oh, well…” I didn’t know what to say. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said, then ran a hand through his hair. “I think you should at least walk across the bridge, though, to experience the energy.”
“And to watch you do a cannonball?”
“Olivia, you have far too much faith in me.” He laughed. “I only pulled off a pencil dive last time…”
Before braving the bridge, Connor and I made a detour to the beach—to the ancient boulders lining the channel, where most of the spectators sat.
“Excuse me, sir,” Connor said to an older man wearing a pair of aviators, an artist whose collapsible chair was precariously perched on a rock.
He seemed to be working on something in his sketchbook.
“Would you mind keeping an eye on these for us?”
Without glancing away from his drawing, he gave us a thumbs-up.
We left our towels at the edge of his boulder and then retraced our steps to higher ground.
A blast of adrenaline knocked me back, catching me so off my guard that I almost didn’t clock a moped speed by.
“Watch out, Elle Woods!” someone shouted at me and my pink bikini.
“How original,” I muttered as Connor put a hand on my waist to guide me farther along the bridge. Sunlight swirled on my skin.
We snapped up the first break in the crowd, and Connor didn’t hesitate before scaling the railing’s five rungs. He stretched his arms above his head once he’d gotten his balance on top, and the girl next to us openly checked him out, fascinated by his flexed shoulder muscles.
“Nice view!” He obliviously scanned the bright horizon. “I think I see Nick’s boat.”
“Really?” I asked. There were a couple boats bobbing in the distance. “Island Girl ?”
“Olivia, I’m not that farsighted. She’s blue and white, right?”
“Per his Instagram,” I said, and wanting to get a better look, I carefully climbed the wet but sturdy wooden fence. I didn’t realize what I was doing until Connor offered a hand to help me. He smirked once we stood side by side.
“So you’ll brave the higher altitudes for Nick?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I would too.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the tremors rolling up the backs of my legs. Connor shifted so that his arm brushed mine before he sidestepped closer, as if worried I’d slip. “Is his boat even out there?”
Connor pointed, and sure enough, I made out two people fishing off a white boat with two blue stripes.
Bare feet gripping the rail, I was suddenly very aware of being so high in the air. Blood pounded in my ears, and I told myself not to look down—to keep looking at Island Girl. “Are you ready?” I asked after a beat, stealing a glance at Connor.
“Yes.” He gently elbowed me. “It sounds like you are too.”
I shrugged, but a strange lump formed in my throat. “When am I going to get the chance to do this again?”
“Any time over the next twenty days,” he quipped. “But I get what you’re saying.”
I snorted. “Thanks for ruining the moment, smartass.”
“That wasn’t the moment,” he countered. “The moment is imminent; the moment is airborne.”
Jump! I thought, unexpectedly so excited I couldn’t breathe.
But Connor’s outstretched arm blocked me from leaping. “The current is strong,” he warned. “Be ready to swim, okay?”
I nodded, the butterflies in my stomach stirring. I might not like the diving board, but I’d always been a solid swimmer. Everything would be okay.
“Three?” Connor asked.
“Two,” I answered.
“One!” He grinned, and at the very last second, when only the tips of my toes touched the bridge, I reached for his hand.