Chapter 2
The jackhammers started at seven-thirty again. Abby had given up trying to sleep past six. She stood at her kitchen window, nursing a cup of coffee and watching Rick's crew attack what remained of the pool's interior. They'd made impressive progress. Most of the old concrete was gone now.
Rick appeared at her back door around eight, hard hat in one hand and a clipboard in the other. She opened the screen door. The look on his face told her the conversation would cost money.
"Morning," he said. "Just wanted to give you an update. We're ahead of schedule. We should have all the demo done by the end of the day tomorrow."
"That's great." She meant it. The sooner they moved past the loudest phase, the better.
"After that, we'll start on the new plumbing. That'll take about a week, but it's quieter work. Then we pour the new shell." He gestured toward the yard with his clipboard. "You're going to love it when it's done."
"I'm sure I will."
She waited. Waited for him to tell her they ran into some trouble, and this or that would need replacing.
But he didn’t.
“Thank you,” she said. “I really cannot wait to see it.”
He nodded and headed back to his crew.
She texted Meg at eight-thirty.
Abby: Still on for coffee? And would you want to go furniture shopping after? I need patio furniture.
The response came almost immediately.
Meg: YES. I need new outdoor pillows. Mine are disgusting. Pick me up?
Abby: Be there in 30.
She changed into shorts and a tank top, grabbed her purse, and headed out. The Jeep's air conditioning was a blessing. The temperature was already climbing into the uncomfortable range.
Meg was waiting on her front porch when Abby pulled up, wearing a sundress and sandals. She climbed into the passenger seat with a grin.
"This is exactly what I needed," Meg said. "I've been staring at those ugly pillows for two weeks, trying to convince myself they're salvageable."
"Are they?"
"Absolutely not."
They drove to the coffee shop on Periwinkle, the same one Abby had been to before. The place was busier this time, but they managed to snag a table near the window. Meg ordered an iced latte. Abby got the same.
"So," Meg said once they were settled. "How was your date?"
“It was good,” Abby lied.
“Uh-oh. That does not sound like a good good. It sounds like a blah good.”
Abby sighed. “I think I’m safely single.”
She nodded and thankfully didn’t push the issue.
“I’m sorry,” Meg said quietly.
“Don’t be. I’m embracing being alone.”
“Okay. If you want to talk about it, give me a call. I rarely sleep these days.”
“I appreciate it, thank you.”
“So, what’s the pool situation?”
Abby was grateful for the change in subject. “I’m chomping at the bit. I cannot wait for it to be done. I have to remind myself that summer isn’t over in August. I’m in Florida! There will still be time to enjoy it.”
“You know, around here, they do enclosures.”
“What? Why?”
“Snakes. Bugs. Sun. Wind.”
Abby sighed. “Great. I should definitely look into it.”
“It just extends your pool season. You can get fancy with retractable screens, but that’s just a maintenance suck. The screens are enough, or you just do it the old-fashioned way. My pool isn’t screened in.”
“We’ll see how it goes,” Abby said. “If I get devoured by bugs, I might just have to.”
They finished their coffee and headed out. The furniture store Meg recommended was just outside Fort Myers, a sprawling warehouse-style place with everything from cheap plastic chairs to elaborate outdoor dining sets.
Abby wandered slowly through the aisles, running her hands over cushions and testing chairs for comfort. Meg followed, occasionally pointing out something she liked or vetoing things she thought were ugly.
"What about this?" Abby stopped in front of a deep gray sectional with thick cushions that looked impossibly comfortable.
Meg sat down and bounced slightly. "Oh, this is nice. Very nice."
Abby sat beside her. The cushions were firm but soft, the kind that would hold up to weather but still feel like sitting on a cloud.
“I think I need something splashier,” Abby said. “Gray is not my thing.”
“How about those?” Meg pointed to a set in bright blue with white shapes all around.
“Yes! Maybe some string lights overhead. Plants in the corners.”
Meg’s face lit up. “I’m so envious. I will be poolside on the regular. Brace yourself.”
"I'm getting it," Abby said.
"You don't want to look at anything else?"
"Nope. This is it."
Meg laughed. "I love your commitment to impulse decisions."
"Life's too short to agonize over furniture."
They found a salesperson who helped arrange delivery for the following week. Abby added a coffee table, a side table, and two additional lounge chairs to the order. Meg found a set of outdoor pillows in a bright coral that made her genuinely excited.
By the time they left the store, it was past noon, and they were both starving. They found a sandwich shop nearby and claimed a booth near the back.
"So," Meg said, unwrapping her turkey club. "Cayo Costa. Two days from now. Are you ready?"
"I think so. What time were you thinking?"
"Early. Six-thirty departure from the ferry dock. That way, we beat the crowds and have the whole day."
"Sounds perfect."
"Bring sunscreen. Lots of sunscreen. And water. And snacks. The island has bathrooms but no food." Meg took a bite of her sandwich. "We can kayak around the bay side first, then hit the beach in the afternoon. If you want to snorkel, the water's usually clearest in the morning."
"I've never snorkeled."
"It's easy. I'll show you. Just don't panic if you see a stingray. They're harmless if you leave them alone."
"That's not as reassuring as you think it is."
Meg grinned. "You'll be fine. I've been doing this for years. The worst thing that's ever happened to me was getting sunburned because I forgot to reapply."
“Should I buy a snorkel setup while we’re here?”
She shrugged. “You can, or you can rent.”
“I think I want to buy so I can go anytime I want.”
“Another good idea.”
They spent the rest of lunch planning the trip. What to pack, what to wear, where to launch the kayaks. Meg had done this trip a dozen times and knew all the best spots. Abby listened and tried to absorb the information, though part of her brain kept drifting back to Levi.
She shoved the thought away. He'd made his choice. Or he was making it. Either way, it wasn't her problem anymore.
They finished lunch and headed back to Sanibel. Meg wanted to stop at a shop that sold outdoor string lights. Abby followed her in because why not? She ended up buying three strands for the patio, plus a set of solar lanterns that Meg insisted were worth it.
By the time she dropped Meg off, it was nearly four. Abby drove home feeling pleasantly exhausted. The tiredness that came from a full day of doing things rather than sitting around overthinking.
The crew had left for the day. The pool area was a mess of broken concrete and exposed rebar, but it looked organized somehow—controlled chaos. Rick had left a note taped to her back door with an update on tomorrow's schedule.
She went inside, poured herself a glass of wine, and settled on the couch. Her phone buzzed.
Dana.
Finally.
"Hey," Abby answered.
"Sorry, I missed your call last night. We had a thing with the kids. What's up?"
Abby took a breath. "I told Levi about the money."
Silence.
"Dana?"
"I'm here. I'm just trying not to fly down there and punch him in the face immediately."
"You don't even know what happened yet."
"Did he pull away?"
"Yes."
"Then I know enough."
Abby laughed despite herself. "He said he needed time to think."
"Time to think," Dana repeated, her voice flat. "About what? Is ten million dollars a deal-breaker? What is there to think about?"
"I don't know."
"This is exactly what I was worried about. Men get weird about money when women have it. It threatens them or makes them insecure or whatever excuse they want to use."
"He didn't say it was a problem. He just got quiet."
"Quiet is a problem, Abby. Quiet means he's already decided and he's trying to figure out how to let you down easy."
She took a sip of wine. She knew Dana was right. It didn’t make it better.
"Maybe," she said.
"I'm sorry. I know you liked him. But if he can't handle the fact that you're financially independent, then he's not worth your time."
“I don’t think he’s a bad guy,” Abby said. “He’s just traditional. I get it.”
"But please tell me you're not sitting around waiting for some guy to decide if you're worth his time."
"I’m not.”
"You deserve someone who's excited about you. All of you. Not someone who needs time to figure out if your wealth is a problem. It’s really not his business.”
"I know."
They talked for another twenty minutes. Dana ranted about men, money, and double standards. Abby let her, because it felt good to have someone be furious on her behalf. By the time they hung up, Abby felt better. Still disappointed, but less alone in it.
She finished her wine and looked out at the torn-up pool area. In two days, she'd be kayaking to an island with Meg. In a week, her new patio furniture would arrive. The pool would be done in a month, maybe less.
Her life was moving forward one day at a time, with or without Levi Quinn.