Chapter 5
PANDORA’S DIARY
Magical Moments: Yes, but not the ones on my list
Pie plates licked clean: All of them
Two drinks and a few dances later, the world started tilting. I was swaying cheerfully as I tidied up lobster bibs and pie plates.
“Step away from the desserts,” Deja said, appearing beside me.
“Hi, frien’!” I said, giving a pie plate one final lick.
“I am your friend. That’s why I brought you this.” Deja pressed a tin of salve into my sticky hand. “You need to relax, Pandora.”
“I am relaxed.”
“If you were relaxed, you’d get your gift.”
Deja is gifted at designing perfumes, and scents for spiritual or psychological balms. She owns a shop in the village where she sells essential oils, incense, and candles.
She creates the scents herself, but she’s connected with a network of faerie-kin crafters and alchemists, and supplies goods for all kinds of magical needs.
“I don’t want your dumb help. I’m the only person on this entire island who is relaxed! The rest of you are completely uptight about getting gifts.” I opened the tin she gave me, and a sweet, herbal scent wafted out. “Ooooh! Smells yummy.”
“It’s ylang-ylang and rosemary.”
“Is that where I’m supposed to put it? On my ylang-ylang?”
“Pandora, no! Are you drunk? Put it behind your ears and over your heart.”
“I might be a tiny bit tispy. Tispy? Tispy.”
“Tipsy,” she said.
“That makes two of us!” The salve felt like soft beeswax under my fingertips. I dabbed my neck, behind my ears, and over my heart—then used the final bit as lip gloss. “Whoa! I feel great. What sorcery is this?” I licked my lips. “It does not taste good.”
“Oh, Dames, Pandora, you’re not supposed to eat it.” She eyed me. “You didn’t have any of Shrig’s edibles, did you?”
“He’s got edibles?! Normal edibles or like faerie-kinables?”
Deja closed her eyes briefly, then looked across the terrace and bellowed “GABE!”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Right there, chatting with Albert.”
“Who?”
“Albert. The librarian. I know you know Albert.”
“Not him. I mean, where is Shrig with his faerie-kinibbles?”
“Get over here!” she yelled. “Someone needs looking after.”
I wondered who she meant as Gabe sauntered across the terrace toward us, looking like he was made to saunter across terraces. Dames, look at that beautiful hair. And he was kind and lovely and fun and… maybe I should work harder at making him fall in love with me.
“What do you look for in a relationship?” I asked him.
Gabe took my hands. “Now is not the time, Pandora.”
“It’s not?”
He leaned closer and whispered into my ear. “You get frisky when you’re drunk.”
“I do not!” I said, while tingling at the feel of his breath.
“Mm. You smell delicious.”
The world tilted, and I pressed against him. “Like ylang-ylang?”
“Your mother is watching,” he murmured as he nuzzled my neck.
“Hoping for another peek at your ass.”
“Meet you back at your house?”
“No!” I toyed with a lock of his hair. “She’ll follow us back to humiliate me. Plus, I don’t want to go home yet. What about a secret assassination? I mean assignation!”
His hands tightened around my hips, like he wanted to drag me off. “Where?”
“The boathouse. No one will be down there this time of night.”
“Fine,” he kissed me. “Meet you there in ten.”
I smiled at his willingness to humor me. The night air felt cool on my overheated face as he slipped away. I breathed a few times to steady myself. Even though the party had officially ended, there were still a dozen people cleaning and chatting and lingering.
I watched Jamar and Sheila help Dennis pack up the bar while Gabe thanked Leora for the great night.
So sweet. Leora was probably missing Leo, though she would be happy to have another gorgeous young man chat with her.
Not that Leo is gorgeous. Not everyone is a fan of Paul Mescal.
I don’t know anyone else who suffered through Gladiator II in the theater five times, just to watch him muscle around in his costume.
I tossed the rest of the lobster bibs onto the pile, made a pit stop in the bathroom, then headed around the cove to the boathouse.
I’d walked that path a hundred times, because Leo and I used to hang out there as kids instead of at his house.
He’d told me it was easier on his mom not to have us talking about magic inside, but I knew the real reason was that I was an enthusiastic messer and never wanted to pick up after myself.
I found myself smiling, and not just in anticipation. The night was dark and the Pandora was tispy. I hadn’t been down here for ages.
I still remember the first time our parents let Leo and me take the sea kayaks out by ourselves.
We’d been in middle school and had felt so grown-up.
We’d packed a ridiculous assortment of “emergency supplies” in my school backpack, like we might get stranded on a remote island a mile from home.
We’d spent days making lists and gathering supplies.
For some reason, I’d been adamant that we needed candles.
I’d meant the emergency camping candles I’d seen in the hardware store, but Leo had snagged one of his mom’s fancy “Fig Tree & Rosewater” candles.
He’d been so pleased with himself that I hadn’t said anything.
We set off in the morning, thrilled at the endless possibilities…
but of course we found ourselves in utterly familiar waters.
Even the excitement of being unsupervised wore off quickly.
Yet instead of getting disappointed, we’d relaxed into the calmness of rowing together.
For the next few months, kayaking gave us a place to just be kids, and not have to worry about being cool or pretty or gifted.
In the darkness, the boathouse looked the same as always: like a miniature version of Leora and Leonard’s house.
I almost turned on my phone’s flashlight before I entered, but I didn’t want to ruin the romantic ambiance.
When I opened the door, moonlight reflected off the waves and sent silvery glimmers inside.
I paused there and inhaled the scent of seaweed and wood polish and that piney, tide-pool perfume that is so distinctly Maine.
I couldn’t see much, but I remembered the layout. The wide, wood-slatted bench against the left wall would serve our purposes. I thought about arranging a few lifejackets as cushions, but when I took a step forward, I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Are you here?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, already beside me, his voice husky.
“Just where I want you,” I said, and threw myself at him.
I mean, literally. I put my arms around his neck and jumped him like a horny teenager.
He caught me with his hands under my thighs, and I liked his easy strength.
I kissed him as I straddled him, and the brush of our lips felt like a Dames-damned revelation.
The truth was that Gabe and I didn’t kiss much.
We didn’t “make love,” we just had a good time, and it was easier to simply go for the tried-and-true hot spots.
Yet kissing him there in the swimming darkness, after a party, with the heat already kindled between us, took my breath away.
He held me in place with one hand under my ass while he cradled my head with the other.
He kissed me with passion and longing and relief, like we’d found each other again after a long parting.
He kissed me and kissed me, then he moved on to my neck and between my breasts.
He pulled my sleeve off my shoulder and bared a nipple which he sucked and the tilting world turned into a kaleidoscope and—
The door to the boathouse creaked open behind me.
Oh, Dames: Mom.
I felt her standing there like a bucket of ice water, so I unclasped my legs from around Gabe’s waist and tried to stand.
I didn’t completely succeed, because my knees went wobbly.
So I leaned against him as he tucked my breast back into my dress like a true gentleman, and the feeling of his skin on mine definitely didn’t distract me as my feet groped on the floor for my silver Birks.
“I can hear you,” Gabe said from the door, “but I can’t see you.”
Let me repeat. Gabe said that from the door where he’d just entered. Not Mom, Gabe. From the door. Where he’d just entered.
Which meant I hadn’t been kissing Gabe.
Of course, I immediately knew exactly who I had been kissing. As, dear fucking Diary, do you.
I stood there, dizzy and horny and horrified, and couldn’t speak.
“Am I supposed to find you?” Gabe asked, as he stepped forward into the darkness.
“Hi there hello good evening!” I finally blurted, desperately chirpily. “I’m in here. Here I am. Me. And Leo. Who is also here.”
“Oh,” Gabe said. “Bummer.”
“Good to see you too, Gabe,” Leo’s voice said, as he rummaged around in the dark.
A few seconds later he opened a camping lantern, and the yellow glow lit the three of us like smugglers in an old movie.
And Gabe, to my horror and dismay, looked absolutely thrilled to see Leo.
The two of them had been pretty tight back in the day, so stupid laid-back Gabe clearly thought this was a cool reunion.
“Dude!” he said, going in for a back-slapping hug. “When’d you get in?”
“Just now,” Leo said. “Uh…”
“How long are you staying?”
“I need to talk to Pan alone,” Leo said.
“What are you even doing here?” Gabe asked him. “Creeping around in the dark.”
I finally shoved my foot into my Birk. “Oh my Dames, Gabe, shut up! It’s his boathouse. We’re the creepers.”
“Oh, yeah, this is true. But still.”
“I followed Pan in here,” Leo told him, “wondering what she was doing.”
That was a lie. He’d been lurking in the boathouse when I arrived, Dames knew why.
Gabe ran a hand through his long hair. “So we’ll hang out tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Uh, I meant Leo, but you’re welcome to tag along.”
“Just go!” I snapped.