19. Marnie #2
“The boys are over there helping with the food.” She reads my thoughts, gesturing to the cluster of tables near the dunes. “I think they secretly just wanted to sample everything.”
I chuckle. Of course they did.
Caleb and Parker are both amongst a small crowd of people surrounding the small trench in the sand and array of grills, billows of smoke rolling off into the air.
Parker’s back is to me, but I have a perfect view of Caleb.
A simple light gray T-shirt stretches across his broad chest, showing off the muscles underneath, paired with black athletic shorts.
He’s sporting a black oven mitt on one hand and holding a pair of tongs in the other, dutifully tending to the food in front of him.
I study him, watching the way his forearms flex when he flips the fish fillets over on the grill.
He’s completely at ease and in his element. It’s incredibly hot.
When he raises his head, his eyes find mine. His features become lighter, and he shoots me a devastating smile.
My heart skips a beat.
“Food isn’t quite ready yet,” Linny says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Someone was late with the firewood, so they got a slow start. Want to take a walk?”
I shoot Caleb a small wave before Linny loops her arm in mine the way she did at State Beach and guides me to the shoreline.
Linny reaches down and scoops up a handful of large pebbles deposited by the retreating wave, holding a hand out for me to take some while skipping one across the surface with her other hand. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Caleb said you couldn’t make it.”
“I wasn’t planning on coming,” I answer honestly, “but I’m glad I did.”
Another flick of her wrist sends the next pebble bouncing across the water. “Why didn’t you want to come today?”
I copy her movements and skip my next rock. “I’ve got so much left to do with this exhibit to make it all come together. I didn’t think I could afford to take any time to myself.”
She eyes me for a moment before skipping her next rock. “Why is this exhibit so important to you? I know you’re doing it for a promotion, but it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself to make it perfect.”
My head lowers. “It’s kind of all I have, you know?
My work, that is.” The confession tumbles out of me, but there’s no judgment—no pity—on her face, and it gives me the courage to continue.
“I’m not close with my parents. I only had one friend in college, who I’m still close with, but she’s all I have.
So besides her, my work is what gives me purpose. ”
The confession is raw and vulnerable. It’s the first time I’ve uttered the words aloud. The first time I’ve let myself believe them. “I guess I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.”
She hesitates, like she’s choosing her next words carefully. “What makes you think you couldn’t do it?”
Her question makes me laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because I’ve never actually thought to consider the answer as to why I carry so much self-doubt.
“I’ve always had high expectations placed on me from a young age.
Parents, teachers, employers. I suppose I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I couldn’t pull something off, so I never let it get to that point. ”
She nods in understanding. “The world of academia is cutthroat. My faculty advisors expect a lot from me. I’ve had to make a lot of sacrifices to get to where I am today because of the demands of my research and program. But I make up for it when it counts.”
“How?”
“It’s not easy sometimes, but you’ve got to learn to keep a balance. Your work can give you a purpose, but it can’t control you.”
The words are almost verbatim to what Josie said to me mere hours ago.
“Besides, I’ve got my hands full with those two.
” She gestures back to the top of the beach where Parker and Caleb are filling large serving trays with food.
“They drive me crazy just as much as they keep me sane. But now I have you, so I’m no longer outnumbered.
” She bumps me playfully with her hip. The last pebble falls from her hand, and she steps forward to pull me into another hug.
“The exhibit will be fabulous, and no matter what happens, you have us. Don’t ever forget that. ”
A sharp, high-pitched whistle blows from behind us, and at first, I think it’s the lifeguard signaling an emergency. We break apart and my heart rate picks up, assuming the worst. I frantically look around, but relief washes over me when I realize it’s the dinner bell.
The line forms quickly. Linny and I end up near the back, but she assures me that there is plenty of food to go around.
There will even be enough for second and third helpings.
It moves swiftly, and everyone returns to their seats in preparation for the firework show now that the sun is minutes away from setting.
When we reach the front of the line, I load my plate with lobster meat, a roll, a vegetable medley, and a few clams.
I follow closely behind Linny when I sense someone behind me.
Caleb.
His signature scent of pine and citrus removes all opportunity for a stealthy approach. He leans down, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Are you joining us?” The deep hum of his voice sends a shiver throughout my body, goosebumps rising on my arms. Those damn butterflies roar to life again.
“Yes, I was just heading that way now.” I nod my head in the direction of where Linny is setting up a collection of chairs near the water’s edge.
A soft smile. “Good. We’ll be over shortly.”
He turns to leave, and the air grows colder without his presence. I settle into the empty seat beside Linny, and the boys join a few minutes later once the first round of food has been served.
Everyone is eating quietly, taking in the atmosphere. A few hundred yards offshore, a large pontoon boat is getting into position to set off the fireworks as soon as the sun goes down. Judging from the way everyone has spoken about seeing the fireworks, they must be something to behold.
Linny cracks open her first lobster claw. “What’s everyone doing next weekend?”
“Depends on why you’re asking. Are we going to do something fun, or is this another ploy to get me and Parker to give you an afternoon of free labor?” Caleb asks as he discards another clamshell.
“Yeah,” Parker chimes in. “My idea of fun is not spending eight hours putting together random furniture by hand.”
“This will be fun, I promise,” she insists, sitting back in her chair. “I want to go out.”
“Don’t you have a job? You know, the one with the kids that keeps you so busy that you bring up every chance you get?” Parker teases.
Linny delivers a swift kick to his shin with the side of her foot, pulling a quiet wince out of Parker. “My current summer camp ends next Friday and I have the weekend off before my next set of campers arrive. What do you say?”
“You know I’m always down for a night out.” Parker grins while rubbing his shin.
Caleb rolls his eyes. “You two loose on the town by yourselves? Not a chance. Someone needs to make sure you two don’t get into trouble.” Linny and Parker give each other a sly smile, some kind of inside joke playing out between them.
“So, you’ll go this time?” There’s a hint of hopefulness in Linny’s voice.
Caleb shrugs. “Sure, why not.”
“Yay!” Linny claps her hands together. “What about you, Marnie?”
I open my mouth to make up an excuse as to why I won’t be available when I stop myself, reminding myself that I’m on island time now.
Just like Josie. Just like Linny. There will always be work.
There won’t always be times like this. Besides, if Caleb is going, I’m not going to pass up a chance to see him in that setting. “I’m in.”
Cheers erupt from the three of them and a flood of happiness surges through me at their excitement over me joining their trio for a night out.
“This is going to be so good,” Linny beams. “I’ll start a group chat after the holiday.”
Parker braces one hand on the arm of the chair and uses it to push himself up, his other hand balancing his empty plate. “I’m going to grab some more food. Anyone need anything?”
Linny offers up her empty cup. “I could use another lemonade.”
“I’m good, thanks,” I reply, my plate still half-full.
“How about you, Caleb?” Parker asks while reaching over to take Linny’s cup.
I take a bite of my corn cob, waiting for his response.
It never comes.
I turn my head to look at Caleb, but his eyes are fixated elsewhere. I track his gaze to the water just in time to hear an ear-piercing shriek and I watch, helplessly, as that same little girl building sandcastles on the shoreline disappears beneath the waves.