22. Marnie
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Marnie
The pile of clothing at the foot of my bed has been steadily growing for the past half hour. I find a reason to hate every single thing I try on after one look in the mirror—the pants are too baggy, the top is too itchy, the dress is too heavy. I’m running out of both time and options.
I am supposed to meet everyone in Oak Bluffs in less than an hour, and I’m no closer to finding an outfit than I am to figuring out what to say when I see Caleb tonight.
Focus, Marnie. One problem at a time. Clothes first, then wrestle with your unresolved feelings for Caleb.
There’s only one person I’d trust in a fashion emergency.
Gwen’s perky voice flows through the cottage after two rings, the open concept layout giving the illusion that she’s here with me. “Hello,” she sings.
“Are you busy? I need fashion advice.”
“No, I’m walking home from Pilates, but even if I were busy, I will always have time for fashion advice. What’s up?”
“I’m going out dancing with some friends tonight, and I have nothing to wear.”
Gwen scoffs. “I seem to recall us filling six suitcases with clothing, so unless they fell overboard on the ferry, I highly doubt you have nothing to wear.”
I pause to shoot her a glare that I hope she can sense through the phone. “You know what I mean—nothing I can wear to a club. I’m not exactly prepared for this situation.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I prepared you,” her smugness bleeds through the phone.
“What do you mean?” I question.
“I stashed some stuff into one of the suitcases just in case you ever decided to take my advice and have some fun while you were there. Couldn’t let you be caught unprepared. What kind of friend would that make me?”
I leave the phone on the edge of the bed and throw open the closet door.
Sure enough, pushed into the far left corner, is Gwen’s small suitcase that I never ended up unpacking.
When I was going through the suitcases at the start of the summer, I only saw the dresses folded neatly on top and didn’t have a need for them at the time, so I just shoved it in the back of the closet and forgot about it.
I pull out the small, sparkly pink suitcase and unzip it carefully.
Just below the stack of dresses are several outfits that I recognize from when Gwen went downtown with other girls from our dorm while I was stuck working on an assignment.
One set in particular catches my eye—a thin, low-cut purple halter top and a pair of shimmery black leather pants.
“This could work,” I tell her, reaching into the luggage and pulling out the clothing.
“Put me on FaceTime so I can see what you picked.”
Setting the phone on the nightstand, I tap the FaceTime button and step out of the frame to try on the outfit. Normally, I’d have no problem changing in front of Gwen, but I’m not about to flash a random stranger while she is waiting to cross the street.
When I slide back into the phone’s view and give her a twirl, Gwen brings a hand to her mouth and praises me. “Ooh, you look hot. Trying to look good for someone?”
My head dips and I bite my lip. “Maybe,” I reply sheepishly, tired of keeping this a secret from her.
“Oh. My. God. I knew it. Tell me all about it,” she drawls.
“The historical society works with a local contracting company to build displays and sets for each new exhibition . . . and I’ve been working closely with the contractor assigned to my exhibit.”
“How closely?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows at me.
The temperature in the cottage feels like it’s jumped twenty degrees. “Pretty closely.”
“Will he be there tonight?”
“Yes, it’s just us and his two childhood friends.”
“Does this contractor have a name?”
“Caleb.”
“Mmm,” she hums. “Okay, so you’re totally dancing with him tonight. I don’t make the rules.”
My face falls. “What if he doesn’t say yes?”
“Looking like that? He’s going to say yes.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” I repeat, anxiety bubbling inside me.
“If he won’t dance with you, then he’s a fool. Find another man who will and that should do the trick. A little jealousy always works,” she replies, checking out her nails.
My legs carry me toward the nightstand, and I pluck the phone from where it’s perched against the lamp to take a lap around the room, buying myself a few extra seconds to come up with a response.
“You’re stalling,” Gwen prompts.
“No, I’m not,” I reply, trying not to sound defensive.
“Marn, I know you better than anyone. What’s wrong?”
I catch her up on the details about Caleb that I’ve left out on our phone calls this summer, covering everything from bringing me pumpkin spice lattes to renting out a private theater to our work on the exhibit and how he’s shown me around and taught me things about the island that I never would’ve learned on my own, but leaving out the recent bonfire and hospital visit over the weekend, the wound still too raw and fresh to rehash.
“We kissed on the Fourth of July, and he told me that was the happiest he’s been in a long time. ”
I think back to last week when he admitted that to me, how open and honest and vulnerable that confession was. My heart ached for him then, and it aches for him now.
Gwen offers a small smirk. “Must’ve been some kiss.”
My cheeks heat at the memory. “It was.”
“And then what happened?”
“When he came to my office on Monday, I told him that we should forget it happened. I don’t want to lead him on since I’m not going to be around after summer.”
“Why on earth would you say that?” she exclaims, undoubtedly drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.
An exasperated sigh escapes my throat. “Because I’m getting attached.”
The dim lighting of the streetlamps doesn’t hide the surprise on her face, and I watch as it turns to pity. I divert my eyes and focus on the pair of seagulls flying over the ocean in pursuit of their next meal, willing not a single tear to spring free and ruin my makeup.
“Oh, Marnie,” Gwen whispers softly.
I blink rapidly several times before turning back to the screen.
“Earlier in the day before we kissed, something happened at the bonfire that could’ve ended very badly, and that’s why I ended up at his house.
That night was really special, and things have changed for him.
Before he left my office on Monday, he said to let him know if I change my mind about us, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week. ”
“Because you’ve changed your mind?”
“No . . . yes? I want to change my mind, but we both agreed at the beginning of the summer that everything would stay professional between us. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
Gwen huffs a laugh. “Plans can always change. It sounds to me like you both like each other, the only difference is that Caleb has openly admitted it to you while you’re determined to keep those mutual feelings to yourself.”
When she puts it like that, the whole thing sounds so ridiculous.
“Okay, here’s my second piece of big sister advice for the day now that the wardrobe malfunction is resolved.”
“You’re seven months younger than me,” I point out.
She ignores my attempted redirection and her tone turns serious. “Has it affected your work on the exhibit?”
“No.”
“Is spending more time with Caleb going to negatively impact the exhibit or your chances at the promotion?”
“No,” I repeat, my voice nearly a whisper.
“Then stop beating yourself up over this. Have a little fun for the summer and see where it goes. Enjoy your last two months there, and at the end of the summer, if you both decide that you want to pursue it further, then you can talk about doing long distance or something. It’s not that far if you really think about it. ”
“I think I missed my chance to let him know.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He sent me a bunch of invoices this morning like he promised but hasn’t said anything else about our last conversation.”
“Marnie, you haven’t missed your chance. He’s waiting for you to make a move.”
“I’m scared to want him, though. We have a good thing going here with working together on the exhibit, and he’s a really great guy. I don’t want to hurt him if this doesn’t end up going anywhere.”
Gwen’s voice softens. “I’ve never heard you talk this way about someone before.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” I confess.
“You always want to keep everyone’s best interests at heart.” She pauses before speaking again. “But you’re allowed to choose something for yourself, you know.”
The tightness in my chest eases, washing away the guilt of thinking I have to choose between two things that I want because I can’t have both.
Add this to the list of reasons why I am eternally grateful for my friendship with Gwen.
I’d be lost at sea without her. “Gwen, I could literally kiss you right now.”
“Save it for the hot contractor. Go have fun tonight and tell Caleb how you feel. I expect a full report from tonight soon.”
I laugh at her words and finish putting on a pair of silver hoop earrings. “Text me when you get home.”
Gwen blows me a kiss and hangs up.
I step up to the mirror to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, running my hands down my pants to smooth out the leather, admiring the way they hug my hips and tone my legs with the help of my heels.
A renewed sense of confidence comes over me as I finish packing my wallet, hand sanitizer, and lip gloss into my purse.
I want Caleb.
It feels good to finally admit that to myself and to stop fighting it.
I want him.
Even if it’s only until the end of summer.
Even if doing so will make leaving that much harder.
All I know is that we can’t go back to the way it was before we kissed, and if he wants whatever I can give, then I’m going to give him everything I can for the next two months to make the most of the time I have left on the island.