Chapter 12 #4
“How did you guess?” I deadpanned, then shook my head. “My grandmother cut my hair when I was little. We played beauty salon in her bathroom.”
“This is Annie, right?”
I nodded. “I’m not that close to my other grandmother.”
Patricia—Grandma—was nice, and I enjoyed spending Easter with her and the rest of my mom’s side of the family, but she lived across the country in San Francisco.
She also wasn’t Annie.
“She sounds really special,” Connor said, then took a breath as if trying to muster the courage to say something else, but instead, he simply added, “One of a kind.”
“Yes,” I agreed, wondering what words he’d swallowed. “There’s no one like Annie. I wouldn’t be who I am without her.” I considered. “I’d probably have a couple tattoos.”
Annie hated tattoos.
“Oh, yeah?” Connor arched an eyebrow. “Where?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to speculate.”
Then I winked.
Connor laughed, but it sounded a bit uneasy, and he took a clumsy step backward into the hall. “Shower.” He motioned around vaguely. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” I said casually, settling back in with my book. “Looking forward to it.”
Excellent work, I berated myself after Connor practically ran for the porch. Truly, an outstanding performance!
Over the past day, I thought I’d done an okay job of keeping things light with Connor—keeping things friendly instead of flirty—but here I was, flirting with him again. Why did he have to make it so easy?
Why did he have to make it so fun?
* * *
For the third night in a row, Swede leaped into bed with Connor while I had the top bunk to myself. “He will forgive you for pushing him off,” I told Connor, who’d just made an oof noise. “I promise.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t totally believe you,” he replied. “Arthur—Mads’s dog—is always furious whenever I kick him from the couch.”
“Mads?” I prompted, even though I knew.
“Madeline,” he answered. “My best friend.”
“Mmm.”
Connor snorted. “She has an mmm too.”
“What does hers mean?”
“Oh, a variety of things.” Pause. “But she’s very protective of me.”
“Of course she is,” I said.
“What does that mean?” Connor asked, a slight edge in his voice.
Note to self, I thought. Do not make fun of Mads.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, but I wondered if there had ever been something more between them. Billy Crystal’s iconic line echoed in my head: Men and women can’t be friends.
Connor cleared his throat. “Mads and I did try to date once,” he told me. “I can hear you wondering.”
In response, I deployed my mmm.
“We don’t like each other that way.”
“Mmm.”
“She’s obsessed with her boyfriend.”
“Mmm.”
He was indignant. “Olivia!”
I broke down laughing, so hard that tears stung my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said after he groaned, getting myself together. “I believe you; I’m just teasing.”
Connor was quiet, and then, “Mmm.”
“Touché,” I quipped before asking more about Mads. She and Connor had been friends since childhood; she played field hockey, loved her never-ending Spotify playlists, and was both the kindest and most judgmental person Connor knew.
“I love her,” he said. “Just not like that.”
“I believe you,” I said back, for real this time. Mads sounded like the best of all best friends; someone who Connor was wholeheartedly open with and who was open with him.
We said good night, but my heart twisted when I shifted onto my side and heard Connor’s slow breathing beneath me. Was he already asleep?
“I’ve been in your car before,” I heard myself say softly.
Connor heard me too. “What?”
“I’ve been in your car before,” I repeated, a little louder.
“Well, yeah…” he said. “We went to Edgartown.”
“No, I’m not talking about that,” I said, then closed my eyes and asked, “Who do you visit at Elkins Village?”
Crickets. The bottom bunk was very quiet for a few moments. “My grandfather,” Connor eventually said. “He moved into independent living this spring. We have dinner with him every other Saturday, and I also bring him his favorite sushi on Wednesdays.”
A lump formed in my throat. “That’s really nice,” I whispered, wishing Annie still lived in the independent wing.
“Thanks,” he replied. “He’s happy there. He’s dating a woman a few doors down from him. Fliss something.”
“Fliss Williams,” I surmised, swallowing hard. “Don’t you just love her name?” I remembered Annie saying about the woman she’d met in chair aerobics. “Fliss is short for Felicity…”
“Yes, that’s it.” Connor’s nod was in his voice. “Fliss Williams.”
I waited for him to ask me how I knew that, but he didn’t; instead, he circled back to how I’d ended up in his car. “It was an accident,” I said. “We drive the same Jeep—”
“Seriously?”
“—and I always leave mine unlocked at Elkins.”
“Well, of course,” Connor said. “There’s no place safer than Elkins Village.”
“Until I climbed in your car,” I quipped. “I didn’t bother checking the license plate. It was raining and I was…” I trailed off, thinking of how I’d fled Finlay House after Annie begged me to help her escape into the night. Every inch of my body felt coated in guilt.
Swede, the only one sleeping, let out a loud snore. “How’d you realize it wasn’t your Jeep?” Connor asked.
“I’m very attuned to details,” I answered. “The driver’s seat was set too far back, and your Jeep is higher than mine. I didn’t have a lacrosse stick riding shotgun either.”
“Wow.” He laughed. “If only I’d seen you…”
That would’ve been some meet-cute! I thought, but the sudden heat in my chest burned the joke before I could make it.
Connor let silence hang in the air then shifted on his mattress. My pulse started pounding. Who do you know at Elkins? I imagined him asking, realizing he already knew when he asked what photo of Annie’s I wanted to follow next.
I mentally scanned my list. Edgartown lighthouse? Check. Old Whaling Church? Check. “How does the Flying Horses sound for tomorrow?” I suggested.
“Like an adventure, because I haven’t been yet. Finn keeps saying it’s for little kids.” He took a beat, then a breath. “Do you want to summon your inner child and go?”
“Only if you summon yours.”
“Already done,” he said brightly. “Everyone says I’m a child at heart.”