8. Beth
Beth
“Thanks for coming in on your day off,” Mary said. “It’s been rough going with Ted helping out in the other shops. Hopefully, it’ll just be a couple hours.”
It was still early in the morning, and we had to prepare the bikes for the day’s renters, follow up about an upcoming party rental, and get the rentals assigned for next week.
Mary had called me last minute asking if I could help.
She had picked up several new reservations, and the boats hadn’t been ready yet.
She needed me to handle the bikes and some of the office work while she got them ready to go.
She was also planning to show me how to work some of the back-end systems to help out while she was at the other shops.
She’d slowly been giving me more responsibility, and even though I didn’t need any more on my plate, I found myself really enjoying the change.
“No problem.”
“Well, I really appreciate it.” She paused and smirked, holding her coffee and blowing the steam off the top. “So, I’ve seen you and Johnny spending some extra time together. I saw you walking through town with him just the other day.”
“Oh, jeez.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re working together on the donations for the auction. It’s nothing more than that.”
“Okay, okay. But I’d make sure you’re putting on an extra layer of lipstick when he comes around, if you know what I mean.”
“Mary!” I flung a towel at her. Who would have thought this sixty-something woman would be giving me relationship advice? Especially when what I had with Johnny wasn’t a relationship. “It’s not like that at all. Plus, I’m not really a lipstick girl.”
“Mmhmm… If you say so. All I know is any man who can wear a t-shirt and jeans that well deserves a second look. He’s got an all-around nice package, if you know what I mean.” She still had that look on her face.
Unfortunately, I did know what she meant.
Johnny was maybe the most attractive man I’d engaged with.
I couldn’t help but watch his lean, but muscled, body on the beach the other day, the tattoo crawling down his shoulder and arm.
Thank God I’d had my sunglasses on to hide the stares.
The other part of me delighted though, having caught him staring at my ass a few times.
“Yeah, he’s cute.” I walked over to the bikes and started wiping them down, trying to get working on the job at hand.
“Beth, come on. I may not have dated in the last couple decades, but I know that man is more than cute. Actually, reminds me a little of my late husband, Gordy, back in the day. And he knew how to get me all hot and bothered without even touching me.” She beamed.
I covered my mouth, stifling a laugh. Comparing Johnny to her husband was a bit much, but she had spunk. I never knew what I was going to get with Mary.
“I’m just going to level with you. You’re probably more in your dating era than I am.” I kept working on the bikes, trying not to look Mary in the eyes.
“Really?” She stopped joking then. “Why not?”
“Small town—everyone cycles through everyone else. I’ve dated a few people.
One, in particular.” I trailed off, thinking about Michael’s and my complicated relationship over the years and wishing I didn’t feel so torn.
“Timing isn’t good anyway. I want to focus on bringing the farm up to where it needs to be.
I don’t need to get wrapped up with anyone. ”
“Maybe getting wrapped up with someone is exactly what you need.” She laughed, then sobered. “I have an inkling that’s not the real reason though. Maybe you just haven’t found the right person.”
“I’ve been working with my parents for as long as I can remember.
” I turned back toward her, then I looked down at my feet.
“When my dad got sick, I was eighteen. I took on a huge part of the business back then and still do. He’s still not one hundred percent.
He’s off a lot. He just seems… really old. Older than he should be at his age.”
“I’m sorry about your dad, but what does that have to do with you dating?”
I decided to tell her. “When my dad had his stroke, I was young. I was too busy figuring out how to keep the business afloat and managing employees to spend time dating. I went out with a few people, but nothing ever came of it.” I paused.
“The guy I dated in high school and I got back together a few years ago. I thought it had run its course. I really cared about him, but something doesn’t feel right anymore.
He wants to pick it back up when I come home though. ”
“What do you want?” She raised an eyebrow at me.
“I don’t know what I want.” I caught myself and stood up straight.
“Actually, that’s not true. I want to make something of myself.
Build something I’m proud of. That’s why I’m here.
The classes I’m taking, what I’m learning—it’s so exciting.
I’ve met some other business owners, and there is so much we can do with the farm back home.
I’d love to create a destination place to go to… as long as my dad buys into it.”
“Sounds like you’re getting a lot out of the classes.” Mary nodded.
“Yeah, and the more time I spend here, the more I wonder if building something with Michael is actually what I want. It’s the only thing that I’d ever allowed myself to think about, but something feels… not quite right. It’s the only thing I’ve allowed myself to think about though.”
“Well, the good thing is you have the time to figure it out. You’re not with this Michael, though?” she asked.
“No, no. We ended it earlier this year. We both need to be on our own for a while.” I put my hands on my hips, facing her.
“So much of what I’ve done over the past few years has been for my parents, for the business, even for Michael.
I haven’t really had the space to figure out what I want.
From the time my dad was in the hospital, everything went at warp speed, and it was tough to slow down to figure out what was best. I mean, I always meant to go back to school, go away to school, I mean.
It just never happened. I was always wrapped up in my dad’s care or taking a bigger part of the business. Everything just took a backseat.”
“That’s a lot for an eighteen-year-old to take on.”
“But I’m almost thirty and nothing has changed. I’m still helping my parents with things back home, even while I’m here. I just got used to that being the only thing I do. This summer, I need to figure some things out—what I really want. What I need to do . . . for myself.”
My chest felt the pressure, wound tight with this invisible battle I was fighting.
“There’s more to life than work though. You know that.” Mary set her coffee down on her desk and walked over to the row of bikes where I was still pretending to still wipe them down.
“I do. And it is more than work. Everything I’m doing is for my family.
It’s so that the family business can not only survive but thrive.
My parents are getting older. I know that.
I see that. I feel like I owe it to them to step in and do what I need to in order to put us in a good position long term. ”
She folded her arms and looked at me, shaking her head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but from where I’m standing, you’re missing out on a big part of what could be—letting yourself feel something real.”
“Dating, especially someone like Johnny, would definitely get in the way. It’s not worth it.”
“Oh, honey, you have no idea.”
I didn’t know what she meant by that exactly, but I turned back to what I was doing, too busy to placate her.
I sat on the front porch, picking at my fingers, when his blue truck turned onto our street and up the drive, a golden retriever riding next to him with his tongue hanging out.
Johnny looked good. When he parked, he hopped out of the truck, and the friendly dog followed him.
Of course, he had those jeans that pulled tight on him along with that gray t-shirt that looked like one tug could rip it off his tight chest. Johnny smiled at me as he walked up, and I couldn’t help but notice the dark ink peeking out from his sleeve on his tanned biceps.
“This is Oberon.” Johnny nodded toward the golden-haired dog.
“Hey, boy.” I pet his head.
“You ready for some tastings today?” Johnny asked, his eyes bright.
“I thought we were working on gathering auction items today,” I said, surprised he was making a day of this.
“What kind of tour guide do you think I’d be if I let you check out the town without sampling the wineries? Megan would kill me.” He smirked. “Come on. Jump in. Figured it’d be a good place to start.”
The first stop was about twenty minutes outside of town.
On the drive, Johnny played tour guide, keeping up a running commentary as he pointed out the town’s highlights.
Some of which I knew, others I didn’t. Even though Port St. Clair was newer as a vacation destination, there was a lot of history with the lighthouses.
Still a much slower pace than the Lake Michigan side of the state though.
As we drove by the Maritime Museum and a prestigious golf course on the bluffs, he spouted off some of the small-town facts that he thought I should know.
He seemed so proud to live in the area, and it made me almost jealous.
We came to a dirt road that had trees canopying over the top and turned onto it.
Beyond the giant trees were rows of grapes growing on trellises.
We pulled into the parking lot. There weren’t many cars there, but a few people milled about.
Picnic tables littered the grass, and in the middle was a small cottage that had a walk-up window and small gift shop inside to get your preferred beverage.
As we walked inside, I noticed the huge colorful paintings covering the walls, and each had a small plaque next to them with the price.