12. Lana
CHAPTER 12
LANA
W e fell into a new routine, me and Brad both.
We’d get up early for breakfast to beat the noise of the work crew, and eat on the back steps if the day was a nice one. If it rained, we’d eat at the kitchen table. The summer crowds had rolled in, but they mostly slept late. This early, by dawn’s light, the town was still quiet. Brad had picked up more work on the strength of Rex’s deck, and he’d leave in the quiet for his morning’s work. I’d head downstairs to check on the workers and get an update on my repairs. Then I’d get to house chores and fun run campaigning, and before I knew it, the morning went by.
Brad would come home for lunch and we’d eat together, then set to working on my business plan. But there came a day when our planning was done, no more to tweak till we saw the store running. I’d applied for some grant Brad found online, but it felt like a long shot. I couldn’t plan around that.
One afternoon, Brad came back smiling, a sly little smile like he had a secret.
“What’s with the smirk?” I said when I saw him.
His grin broadened. “What smirk? I’m just happy, is all.”
“Happy about what?”
And that sly look was back. Brad pulled a key from his pocket. “I’ve got a surprise.”
I tried to glare at him, but he had my interest. “What kind of surprise?”
“Come and find out.” He nodded over his shoulder, toward the beach.
“Just tell me.”
“What? You don’t trust me?” He pulled a mock-wounded face. I rolled my eyes. Brad put his key away and cocked his head to one side. “Tell you what, come with me. Come for a walk. I’ve never seen the ocean so blue as today. We can walk by the McMansions and pretend we’re on Maui.”
I thought about teasing him, holding out till he talked. But I loved a good mystery. Surprises were fun. “All right,” I said. “Let me grab my sunscreen.”
Ten minutes later, we were strolling down the beach. Brad was right about the ocean — it lay jewel-like, dazzling, a brilliant reflection of the summer-blue sky. The beach was so white, I wished I’d brought my sunglasses. Even the summer crowds weren’t too bad, with most of the tourists massed by the beach club, or the really rich ones on their own private strips. Brad’s hand kept brushing mine as we walked, or mine brushed his. I couldn’t tell which. Every time it happened, a low shock surged through me. My fingertips tingled like I’d picked up a charge.
“This way,” said Brad, angling down to the water. To the little marina tucked into the pier. He led us to a tiny, red-painted boathouse and pulled out his key again. “In here.”
I frowned. “Bob Cambie’s boathouse?” Everyone in Haverford knew Bob Cambie, and knew to avoid him. The man was a menace. He blew in every summer with a bad attitude, pinching every penny till buttermilk ran out.
“I got his car running this morning, that big sedan. He didn’t have cash to pay me, so he’s letting us use his jet ski.”
I did a facepalm. “He didn’t have cash? Brad, he invented that phone pay app — CashMe or MyCash, I always forget. The one with the stupid porcupine logo. He could’ve CashMe’d you. That man is just cheap.”
Brad laughed. “Yeah, I know. But isn’t this better?” He threw the door open and there was the jet ski, gleaming blue and red in the shade of the boathouse. Cambie’s boat was there too, the one he took fishing. His big boat, he kept at his own private dock, so his colleagues would see it when they came to visit. I’d never seen him take that boat out. I wasn’t even sure he knew how to drive it.
“You know what’s crazy?” I said. “How he gave you his key. How all these summer folks… they barely lock anything, not their houses, their cars. They leave their stuff and go swimming and don’t think about thieves. Not that we’d steal anything, but it’s like…” I frowned. “Like, if we did steal, they could afford it.”
“That’s not it,” said Brad, unmooring the jet ski. He got it in the water and hooked it to the dock. “I mean, yeah, take this jet ski, Cambie could buy a whole fleet of them. But if this one went missing, he’d call the cops. And he’d know they’d work hard for him. They’d be on his side. He’d get his jet ski back, or insurance would cover it. He doesn’t care about losing things because there’s nothing he can lose. Nothing he can’t get back in a snap.”
I stared at the jet ski, disgusted. Nothing to lose. Meanwhile, my whole life stood poised on the brink. One more disaster, and I’d be done.
“Here, put this on.” Brad held out a life vest. I took it and shrugged it on, and fastened the buckles. Brad frowned at the job I’d done and reached out. “May I?”
I swallowed, my mouth gone suddenly dry. I nodded, unsure what he’d do.
“Got to get these tight so it can’t slip off.” He straightened my life vest, then tightened the buckles, tugging and testing till he was satisfied. When he was done, he stood back and admired his work. “I’m a good driver, but you can’t be too safe.”
“Thanks,” I said, and I felt my voice catch. The life vest was snug, but not so tight it pinched me. I felt… held. Protected. Like Brad was hugging me, shielding me from harm.
He unhooked the jet ski and swung his leg over, then paused and looked back at me. “Unless you’d rather drive?”
“I’ll ride,” I said, and hopped on behind him. I slid my arms around him and held on tight.
Brad revved the engine and soon we were flying, bumping over the gentle waves. Fine spray flew up and I tucked my head up against him. He smelled good, sunwarmed, and I breathed him in deep. I thought to myself, I could do this forever, out on the water snugged up in my life vest. Snugged up to Brad, with the wind in our hair. Out here, all my problems seemed far away, part of my land life. Another world.
The next day, we both got up an hour early. It had hit us both over pasta last night, we’d been working our butts off getting permits for the fun run, drumming up sponsors, signing up runners… but we’d completely forgotten to practice, ourselves.
Brad emerged from his room in beach shoes and shorts, a threadbare old T-shirt with a faded band logo. I scowled at his shoes.
“You’re running in those?”
“I don’t have real running shoes. It’s these or my work boots.” He waggled his toes at me. “I’ll grab some for the race.”
We set out on our jog, Brad’s sandals slapping. It was funny at first, then we found our rhythm, pacing ourselves to a tourist in pink. She was running ahead of us, heading for Hidden Beach. We followed her as far as the edge of the woods, then I stopped, panting.
“How far was that?”
Brad checked his smartwatch. “Four hundred and ninety-two meters. So, the fun run will be like that, but ten times the fun.”
I sagged at that, and grabbed a tree for balance. Brad laughed, barely sweating. Not winded at all. I flicked his arm, incensed by his smugness.
“I’ve never seen you jog once. How aren’t you dying?”
He jogged on the spot, teasing, kicking his knees up.
“You don’t even have running shoes,” I said. “Don’t your feet hurt?”
He stopped kicking his knees up and looked down, lips pursed. “Now you mention it, yeah. They are kind of barking.”
I smirked at him, snatching my turn at smugness. “Let’s walk back down the beach so you can go barefoot. We’ll try again tomorrow when you’ve got proper shoes.”
Brad slung his arm around me and pretended to flag. “You might need to carry me.”
“Quit it, get off!”
He did a comedic stagger, dragging us off the sidewalk. I flapped at him for a moment, then he let me go. We laughed, and then I heard more laughter behind us. I whirled and saw Chester across the street, cooler in one hand, pole on his back. He waved.
“Having fun?”
“Practicing for the fun run.”
“So, having practice fun.” He hitched up his cooler. “You kids be good. Tell Mrs. Schneiderman hello.”
Brad and I waited till Chester was out of earshot, then turned to each other.
“You kids be good.” We said it together and both burst out laughing, like a couple of actual kids fooling around out of school.
We ran the next day as well, and the day after that. Then Cambie somehow got hold of Brad’s number and summoned him out to do some repairs. I didn’t feel much like jogging just by myself, so I gave the kitchen a deep clean, then did the same for the fridge. Then I headed for the market to restock what I’d tossed.
I started out like I always did, checking my coupons. Swinging by the deli to check the day’s specials. I could get enough lunchmeat to last us the week, plus two loaves of bread, for under ten dollars. Brad had mentioned liking horseradish, so I picked that up too, but only a small pot, as it was pricey.
I was debating whether to get pasta or wait for a sale when a shadow passed over me and fell on my cart.
“Lana, good to see you.”
I turned and smiled. “Cathy. How’s Chester?”
“Out fishing with Rex again. Those two, same as always.” She peered around me, into my cart. “Horseradish, really? I didn’t think you liked that.”
My face warmed up, though I had no reason to be embarrassed. I cleared my throat. “Maybe my tastes have matured.”
“Or maybe you picked that up thinking of Brad.” Cathy winked at me and I looked away. We mostly shopped for ourselves when it came to our own tastes, then we’d take turns on items we’d share. But I’d remembered the horseradish and thought, why not? It would be a nice surprise for him, like our ride on the jet ski. I was paying him back, was all. Returning the favor.
“Careful. You’re turning into an old married couple. Next thing you know, you’ll be buying his tube socks.”
My face went even hotter and I looked away. I hadn’t bought socks for Brad, but I’d helped pick them out. He’d shopped like a man who hated shopping, grabbing the first thing that looked halfway right. I’d saved him three dollars and itchy feet. But that didn’t make us some old married couple.
“You’re blushing!”
“I’m not!”
“Wait till Dora hears this.”
I groaned, waved her off. Cathy gave me a nudge.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing if something sparked up. He seems like a good man, and he’s certainly handy. You’d never have to put up with a wobbly table.”
I protested weakly, but she bustled off. An old married couple… projecting, much? That was her and Chester. Dora and Rex. Still, my mind spun a film reel without my consent, scenes from a life that was mine and Brad’s. Brad teaching me car stuff, because he’d want me to know. He’d want me to be safe if I got stuck on my own. Me taking him shopping for proper beachwear. Teaching him to bargain-hunt, to spot a good deal. The two of us together, sprawled on the couch. Cooking together. Out on a jog. Other couples greeting us. Inviting us out. I saw a whole couple life with couple friends, us doing couple things, going on dates. Talking about maybe, some time in the future?—
I cut off the fantasy with a toss of my head. Just as I did, my phone chirped in my pocket. I fished it out, expecting Brad, but the text that popped up had me stifling a shriek.
The grant. I was shortlisted. They wanted to meet me.
And my first thought was Brad. I couldn’t wait to tell him.