35. Margot
THIRTY-FIVE
Margot
I didn’t know where we were going. The text from Caleb said to wear something pretty for dinner. I had smiled at the message. Caleb thought my cotton sundress was pretty. The simplistic and breezy fashion I was now used to on Marshoak Island wouldn’t pass for an evening out for drinks and dinner in New York. I tried not to compare his taste to Ethan’s. It wasn’t fair. They couldn’t be more different. Neither could my feelings.
I flipped through the clothes in my cramped closet. It would have helped if I had a clue what Caleb planned for tonight. There was a black cocktail dress wedged in between a jumpsuit. I wasn’t sure why I had packed it. When I left New York, I threw everything I had in the car. I didn’t spend time sorting clothes or making a donate pile. I could have sold some of these dresses and made money for the trip. None of that was a consideration. There wasn’t enough time to think through the next steps and I had to vacate the apartment. Thinking back to the beginning of the summer was a blur.
The dress reminded me of dates with Ethan. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to relive the memories of feeling small and less important. I didn’t want to remember how invisible I felt around his friends. How I had to fight for the oxygen in their space. I ripped it off the hanged and balled it up. I’d start a new donation pile. I shoved it in a plastic bag. Before I knew it, I had emptied half the clothes in my closet. The clothes I’d bought for the tour. The cocktail dresses Ethan insisted I needed for client dinners. They were gone. I surveyed the mess I’d made. It was a good mess though. It was exactly the kind of cleanse I needed.
I scrunched my nose. There weren’t a lot of options to choose from anymore after decimating my closet. I had to do what I could to make a sundress look more like a dinner dress. Shit. I only had thirty minutes before Caleb would be here to pick me up. I grabbed one and got to work.
T he look in Caleb’s eyes was all I needed when I held open the screen door. His gaze followed every inch of my body from my ankles, along my legs, over my hips and waist, all the way to the gloss on my lips. It was as if each part of my body reacted with shivers when he focused on it. I felt my nipples perk with the heat of his stare.
“Is this okay?” I asked, playing up an innocent coquettish mood. “I don’t know where we’re going. So mysterious.”
I’d never seen Caleb dressed up before. As he approached, I was intoxicated by his scent. I loved how he smelled after his shower when his face was clean-shaven. He wore a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants. It wasn’t New York dressy, but he might as well have been wearing a tuxedo by Marshoak dress codes. He was sexy and I thought a little off-balance in the clothes, in a cute endearing way. The truth was he could never look bad.
I walked into his arms, inhaling him. His hands folded along my lower back.
“You look amazing,” he whispered in my ear.
“So do you. I like this look on you.”
He chuckled. “You making fun?”
“No way.” I stood back, keeping a hold on his hands. “I’d never make fun of this.” I smiled, admiring how his broad chest looked in the shirt. His biceps were unmistakably sculpted in the sleeves. “Not when you are this hot.” I waggled my eyebrows.
He grabbed my ass playfully, pulling me quickly to his body. “Stop making me feel like you’re going to stand here and objectify me all night.”
I laughed. “I take it all back.”
He opened the passenger side door for me, and I slid in. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see.” He started the car and we drove away from the marina.
The only thing I wasn’t surprised about was when Caleb drove us onto the ferry. He cut the ignition and slid his palm to my knee.
“I guess you knew we had to go to Harbor Pointe.”
“That was the only thing I had figured out.” I leaned toward him, catching his lips in a kiss. We were startled when one of the ferry workers tapped on the hood.
“Parking break,” he reminded Caleb.
“Right. Sorry.” He sighed pressing the break in place. The water was choppier than usual. I felt the car sway with the ferry. I was worried it was already making me queasy.
Caleb must have seen the expression on my face. “Hey, let’s walk out and get some fresh air.”
I nodded. I wanted this date to go well. Not just well, I wanted it to be part of us. One of the nights we created together. It already felt as if there was anticipation between us for what was going to unfold. It wasn’t nerves or anxiety. It was the promise of this night. I didn’t want it ruined because I was nauseated before we even arrived at our reservation. I stepped out of the car and inhaled the salt air. After three more big breaths, I started to feel better.
“Just keep looking at the horizon,” Caleb advised. His hands moved up and down my arms reassuringly. “Breathe with your eyes set right over there. It will pass.”
We began to pull into the docks. “I think I’m better.” I smiled up at him. “We can get back in the car.”
Caleb waved at the guys on the ferry as we drove over the ramp and onto the mainland. We drove past the street to Carrie and Lucas’s house.
“How do you think he’s doing?” I asked. I didn’t have to say his name. Caleb knew.
“He’s a good kid. He’s fine.”
“Oh no!”
“What?”
I buried my face in my hands. “I forgot to pick up the tablecloth again. Josie called and left a message. It’s ready and I have to get it. I’m surprised Carrie hasn’t come after me for it.”
“You talked to Josie?”
“Yeah, that’s where I took it. The Clean Queen.” I giggled at the name. “I didn’t realize when I met her that’s where she worked, or her mom owned it. She never mentioned it.”
“How much do you hang out with Josie?” There was a slight edge to his voice.
“Just the one time when she invited me to the bonfire. I might have screwed up making a friend that night.”
“What do you mean?” He turned at the next stoplight and we emerged in a cute downtown district I didn’t know existed.
“I left with you that night.” I blushed. “I didn’t tell her where I was going. I think it made things awkward between us somehow.”
Caleb cleared his throat. “You can make other friends. There are enough people our age on the island.”
“I did meet her friends. They used the ramp at the marina. It’s how we met, actually, but I didn’t really talk to those girls.”
“You mean Lila and Marin?”
I looked over at him. I had to remind myself they all knew each other. “Yes, that’s right.”
He parked in a parallel spot, across the street from a restaurant with huge rectangular windows and a black and white scalloped awning. I spotted candles flickering inside the dark restaurant. “We’re here,” he announced.
“Wow. It looks so cute and romantic and…”
He hopped out and raced around to my side of the car. He lifted my hand as I stepped out onto the curb.
“I realize this might not meet your New York City standards, but around here Café Midnight is fine dining.”
I nodded with a serious look on my face. “Oh, I can tell. There are white tablecloths and candles.”
He poked me in the side as we crossed the street arm in arm. As he opened the door for me he whispered, “Did I tell you you look fucking beautiful tonight?”
I trembled. My entire body lit up with the words.
“Something like that,” I answered.
The hostess seated us at a table for two by the window. There were fresh local flowers in an antique vase. The restaurant had the feel of being here for over a hundred years. I wondered if they were open during the day. I had a quick thought of sitting here, drinking coffee and writing.
My eyes widened.
“Something wrong?” Caleb asked.
I shook my head. “No. No. I just thought of something. Something I had forgotten.”
“Not another tablecloth.”
I laughed. “No.”
We ordered and our waitress delivered a bottle of wine to our table. I didn’t want to stare, but I was struck by how different everything was in the restaurant. It was dark and intimate. I couldn’t believe we were only a ferry ride from the Blue Heron. Why did it feel so different on this side of the sound? How could one tiny town on the mainland feel like I had sailed to a different country?
“What are you thinking over there?” Caleb interrupted.
I watched the dark hues of his eyes in the candlelight. He might have been more handsome here.
I sighed, lifting my wine glass. “How I had no idea there was anything like this in Harbor Pointe. It’s like you were keeping a secret from me.”
“Not a secret, but you know it’s different here. If you grew up here, you know it’s a little highbrow.”
I almost spit out my wine. “Highbrow?”
“For islanders and mainlanders, it is. It’s just how it’s always been. It’s not going to change.”
I twisted my lips together trying to think about how such a small place could see itself as so different. For an outsider, it was all one big coastal neighborhood. The summer had taught me there was more nuance to it than that. That was the glossed-over tourist view. I wasn’t really a tourist. But I knew I wasn’t a local either. I was trapped in some in-between purgatory space.
Caleb leaned toward me, his heavy weight shifting the table. “I finished it.”
“Finished what?”
“The book. Your book.”
My stomach flipped. Shit. I had forgotten he had the copy. I reached for my glass of wine. I knew what was coming next.
“I loved it, Margot.”
A shrill nervous squeak escaped my throat. It was halfway between a laugh and a yeah right .
“No. I did. I’m serious.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know what those agents or editors or whatever you called them, the marketing people, yeah those people—I don’t know why they pulled the book and canceled all the plans you had for the summer. You were supposed to go to so many places. That doesn’t matter. I really liked it. I read it cover to cover. Every single word of it.”
I swallowed the wine, waiting for the but to come next. It didn’t. I was trying to absorb what it said. He read it. All of it.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you?”
He chuckled. “I have an idea about the book.”
“What kind of idea?”
“There’s a local bookstore right next door. You couldn’t see it from the way we drove up the street, but what if you tried to sell some copies there? You could sign some of them. I bet they’d love to have the local author come in and talk about the book.”
“No.” My voice was sharp and the response too fast. Caleb’s eyes widened. I inhaled. “I mean. No, thank you.”
“I didn’t think it was a bad idea. You could make money and the book is good. People here will think you’re a real celebrity.” He smiled softly. “I’m trying to help.”
“I destroyed all the copies. There are no more books left to sell.”
“Come on, Margot. If you wanted, we could get copies I bet. Somehow reprint the one I have.”
“No. Just no. I don’t want that book out. It’s not something I want to share anymore.” My eyes fell to the table.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I did like it though.”
I looked up just as the corners of his lips lifted in a smile. I couldn’t stay mad at him. He didn’t see me the way I saw myself. He didn’t think the writing was a failure. Why was I going to try to convince him it was?