Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
PRESENT DAY
Madeline
I’m disappointed, but as I dig my toes in the sand and take in the view of the water sparkling in the afternoon sun, the rough edges of this past week begin to smooth out.
Though I’m here to search for the truth, this summer isn’t just about Adam, it’s about me finding the pieces of myself that went missing all those years ago.
About remembering who I am and what made me happy before everything fell apart.
I pull out a book and read until a woman and her kids park their chairs and umbrellas next to mine.
The woman and I chat about our favorite novels and my childhood growing up at the beach while I show the kids how to make a drip castle with buckets of wet sand.
On my way home, I stop at the ice cream parlor for a cone of salted caramel, my absolute favorite.
I arrive at Hudson’s Bar for my first shift feeling relaxed and refreshed in a way that I haven’t experienced in years.
After I change into my Hudson’s Bar T-shirt, I focus my attention on the tour Chloe is giving me around the building.
I want to do the best I can at this job.
I heard from the line cook in the break room that Chloe is a single mother, and she needs my help so she can spend more time with her daughter.
So far, I think I can do this job. Hudson’s seems like a pretty laid-back place, a hunch that’s confirmed when Chloe gestures for me to follow her behind the bar.
“Most people will order the local beers or maybe a glass of wine. Hudson’s isn’t like the upscale beach restaurants near the marina.
You’re not going to be muddling herbs or serving cocktails with mini umbrellas.
” She rolls her eyes, giving away her opinion of those beach restaurants and fancy cocktails.
Chloe is about my age with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that looks crafted entirely for function and not fashion.
Her black shorts show off her muscular legs, and she’s cut the sleeves and hem of her own Hudson’s T-shirt to turn it into a tank top.
The bridge of her nose is peeling slightly, as if she’s spent a lot of time in the sun recently, and as far as I can tell, she’s not wearing any makeup.
Not that she needs it. She’s beautiful in that effortless, outdoorsy kind of way.
Her sun-kissed shoulders make me wonder if she’s a surfer like Ian and Garrett.
“So,” she continues, “all you need to do is sling some beers and put the food orders into the point-of-service system for the kitchen staff. And then, don’t take any crap from the customers.”
“Do they give you a lot of crap?” I ask, gazing around at the younger people heckling each other over a game of pool and the gray-haired men nursing their beers at the corner table. I remember both groups of people from last time I was here.
She gives me a slanted smile. “Some of the fishermen like to flirt, but feel free to put them in their place. They’re pretty harmless, and they know if they cross the line”—she hitches her thumb at the door—“they’re out.
But most people are pretty chill. We’re a tight-knit community.
” She grabs a rag to dry a tray full of glasses, and I reach over to help.
“How long have you owned the bar?” I ask.
“I worked here for a few years right after my daughter and I moved to the island about seven and a half years ago. When the owner wanted to retire, I bought the place. Ellery and I live upstairs, so that’s convenient.”
“How old is Ellery?”
“She’s eight going on fifteen.” Chloe sighs. “God help me.”
“I work with fifteen-year-olds at my teaching job.” I give her a sideways smile. “So, I’ll pray for you.”
“Damn,” she mutters, tossing her drying rag over the side of the sink. “I was hoping you were going to say it gets better.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Maybe when they’re twenty-five.”
Chloe gives a slow shake of her head. “I hope you’re better at bartending than you are at counseling exhausted single mothers.”
I drop my rag on the sink next to hers. “Thanks again for this job, by the way. I appreciate you taking a chance on me.”
She eyes me. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have hired a complete stranger, but you seemed to be friendly with Ian and Garrett, and I’d trust those guys with my life. Did you know Ian from when you were a kid?”
“A little…” I hedge, remembering my conversation with Josie. “He went to private school, and I went to Sandy Harbor High. But my older sister Josie knew him. ”
“And Garrett?” she asks.
“I just met Garrett recently,” I say, wondering if that’s actually true.
If Garrett and Chloe are close, she might be able to shed some light on his past. But would she be willing to tell me anything?
She said this is a close-knit community, and she seems protective of the people she cares about.
“I don’t think Garrett grew up here like Ian and I did. ” I try to keep my voice casual.
“Yeah, Garrett moved to Sandy Harbor not long before I did. He grew up in San Diego, lived in New York for a while, then came to the island to work for Ian.”
“You two seem close. Are you…?” I trail off because I don’t know why I’m pursuing this conversation. I’m supposed to be finding out if Garrett is Adam, and the current state of his love life has nothing to do with it.
“Dating?” she fills in with a laugh. “No.”
I’m even more annoyed by my rush of relief at her answer.
This entire situation is mixing up my mind and my heart, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Is my hot, flushed hum of attraction for the boy I used to know, or for the man I just met?
Was it Adam or Garrett who I wanted to kiss in that kitchen yesterday?
And what would have happened if I’d given in to my desires?
“Garrett and I are just friends.” Chloe’s voice cuts into my thoughts.
“He mostly dates tourists who come and go. I’ve never really known him to have a girlfriend.
” She eyes me with a renewed wariness, like a protective older sister checking out her brother’s new love interest. And then her gaze drifts past me.
“Oh, hey, Garrett. We were just talking about you.”
I spin around to find Garrett leaning against the bar, and the temperature in the room cranks up ten degrees.
As soon as our eyes lock, I know he feels the heat burning between us.
Chloe grabs an ice bucket, which is unfortunately empty or I might have considered dipping my head in it.
With a wave, she takes off for the back room.
“We weren’t talking about you,” I say to Garrett. “We were just”—I wave a hand—“discussing the locals. And you’re a local, so your name came up…”
“Uh-huh.” He smirks. “And it came up so you could ask who I’m dating?”
I turn away, picking up some glasses and setting them on the shelf behind the bar.
“We were talking about all the locals. Like Ian… and even those fishermen over there.” I wave a glass at the corner table, where the group of graying, bearded men in coveralls chat about today’s catch over draft beer.
“You want to know who the fishermen are dating?” Garrett points a finger at the men.
“Pete’s been married to his wife for forty years, Joe’s on his third marriage, Alan is dating a nice man on the mainland—a doctor, if I’m remembering correctly.
” His finger pauses at the last man. “Henry is available, though.” His lips quirk. “You want me to introduce you?”
“No, thank you. I’m not looking to start a relationship.”
Garrett strokes his chin, thinking it over. “Good point. You’re here on vacation, so you’re probably better off having a fling with a tourist. Not getting too attached.”
“Sort of like you do?” It comes out abruptly, and I’m annoyed at how much I’m bothered by the thought of Garrett chatting up bikini-clad young women who are here on vacation. Thankfully, none of them are likely to come into Hudson’s.
Garrett’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you weren’t talking about me , though.”
I’m saved from having to answer when Henry approaches the bar. “Hey, new girl,” he calls in a gruff voice. “Can we get some more beers over here?”
Garrett gives Henry a grin. “Better not let Chloe catch you calling her that. ”
He grunts. “Well, what’s your name then?”
“It’s Madeline.”
“Madeline, can we get some more beer?”
“Sure, I’ll bring them over.” I head to the other end of the bar to the beer taps, where I pour four drafts and mark them down on the tabs that Chloe showed me earlier.
When I return to the bar after delivering their drinks, another group has stepped up to put in a food and drink order, and once I’ve gotten that sorted, a couple needs my attention.
Garrett gives me a wave to let me know he won’t keep me from my work and then wanders over to a table with Ian.
Chloe joins me behind the bar as we’re hit by the dinner rush.
Henry’s gruffness aside, the Hudson’s crowd is friendly and welcoming, especially when Chloe tells them I grew up here.
I quickly adjust to taking orders and pouring drinks, realizing I’m having fun chatting with the locals about the places on the island I loved as a kid.
The rush slows, and Chloe heads to the back room to sort some paperwork. An attractive man with sandy-brown hair approaches the bar, taking a seat by himself.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask with a friendly smile.
Instead of returning my grin, the man tilts his head, eyes squinty, and looks me up and down. “You’re Madeline?”
“Yep.” I guess it’s gotten around at this point. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I expect him to introduce himself, but he just leans in and says, “And you grew up here on Sandy Harbor?”
“That’s right.” The other locals I’ve met today have all asked friendly questions about where I lived and what my parents did, trying to figure out if they knew my family.
There are a lot of communities on the island, and my mom, Josie, and I lived a few miles from here, so nobody has remembered me yet.
This guy’s questions shouldn’t seem out of the ordinary, but there’s something in his tone that has my spine straightening.
I grab a glass from under the bar, hoping to move this along. “Can I get you a drink?”
He ignores my question. “And you left the island at the start of summer ten years ago?”
I set the glass down. “How did you know that?”
He shrugs. “I heard some things.”
In all of my conversations tonight, I didn’t mention when we left, I only said my family moved when I was in high school. I guess this guy might be able to estimate my age. He seems a few years older than me—probably in his mid-thirties. “Did you know my family back then?”
“Not exactly…” The way he trails off implies he knows something about my family that he’s not saying.
A loud crash echoes from across the room, and it looks like one of the women playing darts got so excited by a bullseye that she accidentally elbowed her glass off the table.
I’ve never been so happy to have to clean up a mess.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, slipping out from behind the bar to hurry over with a dustpan, broom, and a handful of towels.
The woman is apologetic, and I’m tempted to assure her that I’m grateful for anything that gets me away from that guy at the bar.
As I bend over to sweep up the glass, I peek in the sandy-haired man’s direction and notice him watching me.
A shiver runs up my spine. Maybe the guy is harmless.
There are definitely some characters in here, like Henry and his fishermen friends.
But Henry is a bit gruff and a little eccentric—he’s not creepy.
I look away and focus on cleaning up the glass.
Maybe I should say something to Chloe, ask her what his deal is, but I don’t want her to think I’m someone who stirs up drama or needs her to swoop in and save me.
It’s my first day here. The guy hasn’t actually done anything besides give me a weird vibe.
I stand and carry my dustpan of broken glass to the garbage can, and when I get back to the bar, I’m relieved to see that Chloe has poured him a drink so I don’t have to.
Still, his eyes follow me as I move around the bar serving other customers, and I can’t wait for him to pay his bill and get out of here.