36. Caleb
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Caleb
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I stack the box in my hands in the back of the truck and pull it out and glance at the name. It’s from Marnie. She probably wants to know where I am or why all the set pieces are scattered everywhere.
I’ve been running back and forth between the historical society, my house, and the warehouse to drop off displays and other equipment, so we keep missing each other like two ships passing in the night.
But as I start to read the message, my heart sinks.
Arnie
I know you have a lot going on with installation today, but can you come over when you’re done? I need you
Me
I’ll be there in ten
It’s a miracle that I don’t hit a single red light. I probably ran a stop sign along the way, and I’m driving well over the speed limit, but I don’t care. All that matters is getting to her.
A million and one things are running through my head, trying to piece together an explanation to her text message. The words so vague yet so desperate.
For her to ask for help like this, it must be bad.
The door to her cottage is unlocked when I arrive. I push the door open frantically and find her easily, the open concept layout not giving her anywhere to hide.
Flashes of red move across the kitchen as she paces back and forth, breathing so heavily she doesn’t even notice my entrance.
She’s reeling. Spiraling. I approach her cautiously, as if she’s a cornered animal. I’ve never seen Marnie in the middle of a panic attack before, and it’s honestly terrifying.
“Marnie,” I say gently, trying to get her attention without scaring her.
She stops pacing and turns to face me. Her eyes are red and puffy, and my stomach turns to lead. I hate whoever did this to her. I hate whoever is responsible for making her feel less than she deserves. I don’t know how long she’s been like this, but I hope for my sake that it hasn’t been long.
I close the distance between us. “I’m here, sweetheart,” I whisper.
Marnie throws herself into my arms and breaks down. “She lied,” she says, then sniffles.
My chest aches. “Who did?” I ask softly, even though I know exactly who she’s going to say before she confirms it.
“Irene.”
White-hot rage seeps through me. That woman has done nothing but tear Marnie down the entire time she’s been here, and from what I’ve learned this summer, the entire time Marnie’s worked for her, too.
“What happened?”
Another sniffle. “She’s leaving. And she’s taking John with her.
The promotion is gone, and now I missed my chance with Josie.
I have no idea what I’m going to do.” Her voice cracks on the last words.
She sounds so small—so broken. It shatters my heart and all I want to do is make it right.
But she doesn’t need me to fix her problems. She can handle her own.
Instead, I offer the only reassurance I know how to.
My hands find the back of her head, gently tangling in her hair as I press her against my chest in a tight hug.
“Irene was right. I can’t do this on my own,” she mumbles against my chest.
I pull back just enough to cup her face and swipe away twin tears as they fall with my thumbs. “What makes you say that?”
“I got the idea for marine conservation when you made that shark comment at the movies. Linny consulted on the educational component. I had help with every major aspect of this exhibit. I don’t know why I thought I was ready for this.”
I hold her and tell her how all the negative things she just spewed about herself couldn’t be any further from the truth. “Your entire field requires collaboration. Just because you are the lead curator on an exhibit doesn’t mean you can do it all on your own.”
She shakes her head like she doesn’t believe me and buries her face into my chest once again.
“Hey,” I whisper. My thumb hooks under her chin, forcing her to look at me, and I wipe a stray tear with my other hand.
“I know I may have said something that gave you the idea, but deciding to include a conservation aspect was all you. You took that thought and turned it into something magnificent. Seeking out Linny does not mean that you were incapable of doing it yourself. You recognized the importance of it and consulted an expert in the field.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but I’m not giving up.
“Let’s get out of here. We can figure out your next steps together.”
“You don’t need to do that. I can figure it out on my own. I got myself into this mess, I need to figure out a way to fix it.”
“I know you can. I’m saying you don’t have to. You don’t have to do this alone. Let me be there for you.”
“Okay,” she whispers, a hint of defeat in her tone.
“Repeat after me: I am enough.”
“I am enough,” she half whispers, half sniffles.
“You can do better. Try again.”
She lowers her head and takes a few deep breaths, each one less shakier than the last, before meeting my eyes again. “I am enough.”
“Don’t you dare forget it.” I kiss the top of her head. “Come on, I know something that will cheer you up.”
Circuit Avenue is packed when we arrive. I didn’t have anything specific in mind, I just needed to get her out of the cottage for a change of scenery.
A double scoop of homemade ice cream usually does the trick, so we stop in at Mad Martha’s while the line is short and eat on the bench outside and people watch.
We take turns making up stories about the secret lives of the people passing by, getting so into the details that we lose track of time until the last of our cones are dripping with melted ice cream.
I have no intention of taking her home yet, so I need to quickly think of something else to do. Nothing comes to mind until I hear the familiar sound of bells and whistles from the building across the street, and an idea begins to materialize.
I take her hand in mine, gently tugging her up off the bench, and then I hook an arm around her waist and guide her through the crosswalk toward the arcade.
Her brows furrow in confusion as she takes in the bright lights and two-story building of wall-to-wall games. My hands cover her eyes. I slowly walk her over to the far wall to the open booth, telling her where to step.
“Ta-da,” I give my best magician impersonation, removing my hands.
Her eyes blink several times as they adjust to the light.
“It’s not a rage room, but it’s the next best thing.”
She squints down at the machine in front of us. “Whac-A-Mole?”
“Exactly. You can hit something as hard as you want in an appropriate setting, and nothing breaks in the process. It’s a win-win.”
A small smile graces her lips. Good. Anything to erase the memory of the shattered look on her face.
I walk to the coin machine and deposit a ten-dollar bill, watching as a plethora of gold coins drop into a plastic cup.
Marnie ties her hair into a loose, low bun while she waits.
When I make my way back to her, coins in hand, I grab the mallet and extend it in her direction.
She gives me a wary look before accepting it.
My head nods in reassurance and I deposit two arcade tokens into the slot to start the game. An array of lights and sounds emerge from the machine, and then the first mole pops up in the center of the board.
Her arms give the mallet a tentative swing and bops the creature.
“Come on, Marnie. Swing like you mean it,” I tease.
“This game is designed for children.”
My mouth tips up into a smirk. “Then you should be a pro.”
She shoots me a glare, rolls her shoulders back, and swings.
A loud thud echoes off the board as her mallet makes contact with the rubber creature. Another one pops up, followed by another loud thud.
That’s my girl.
She falls into a rhythm, striking each one with such force that I think she’s going to break the game at one point, until a flurry of noises spew from the scoreboard, and an animated voice comes over the speaker: New high score.
The mallet hits the floor, and she turns to me laughing with a wide smile and leaps toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I return the hug by snaking my hands around her waist, and I catch a whiff of her lavender perfume.
A few beats pass, and she untangles herself from me. Her hair is starting to fall from her bun, and there’s a wild look in her eye.
“Feel better?”
She huffs a laugh, sending the lone strand of hair out of her face and bends down to collect her tickets. “Loads better.”
Without hesitation, she grabs two more tokens and starts a new round.
By the end of the fourth round, she’s beaten her high score again.
Her efforts earn her forty-seven tickets, and we walk hand in hand to the prize counter near the front of the arcade. It’s enough to buy a small stuffed cow for Berry and a stash of candy for the walk home.
That was easily the best ten dollars I’ve ever spent.
Marnie looks like a new woman.
She’s in a much better mood after that cathartic arcade experience, having physically worked out her frustrations and cleared her mind.
We fall into step and set a leisurely pace down the sidewalk, golden hues flashing across the sky to commence the evening sunset.
I plop a grape Jolly Rancher into my mouth and secure her hand in mine, intertwining our fingers with one another. “I hope you’re prepared for the fame and fortune that comes with claiming a new high score. Lots of notoriety. Expect a feature in the MV Times within the week.”
Her head whips around, giving me an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
“Well, no, but I know the owner and would be happy to make that happen.”
She pulls her hand out of my grip to smack my arm in one swift movement, then intertwines our hands together once more. It’s so unexpected that I nearly spill the bag of candy all over the ground.
We stop at the corner to let traffic pass, and she peers up at me. “Thank you,” she whispers quietly. “For today. For all of it.”
I bend down to kiss the top of her head. “You’re welcome. Glad you came?”
“Yes. It helped clear my head. Now I just need to think about my next move.”
“And what exactly is your next move?”
Her hand slips into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through a few texts and clicks the link, turning the screen to face me.
My eyes scan the press release, and I see red. “She took credit for all of your exhibits?”
She nods in confirmation. “Every. Single. One. I can’t work for her anymore, Caleb.” She shakes her head and lets out a humorless laugh. “I know there’s no job security for me anyways since she’s leaving, but I don’t care if I burn that bridge. I don’t want to spend another day answering to her.”
I bring her hand to my lips and plant a tender kiss against her skin. “If that’s what you want to do, you have my full support.”
The remainder of the walk is spent talking through next steps and forming a plan for how she wants to address the article. I let her guide the conversation, offering a suggestion when prompted, but mostly letting her take the lead.
Seeing her find the courage to stand up to Irene and fight for what she wants only emboldens me to do the same.
I know what I must do.
There’s no job security for me either if I leave my family’s business, but there’s nothing more for me there, especially not with how I left things with my father.
Even if the greenhouse venture doesn’t go anywhere, at least it’s something I’m passionate about.
At least I can say I had the courage to try.
Back at the cottage, I put on a pot of decaf coffee and join Marnie on the porch, taking the empty rocking chair beside her to watch the remainder of the sunset, hand in hand. Parker scooped up Berry for the night, so we have the evening to ourselves.
Marnie decides that tonight she’s going to introduce me to one of her comfort movies: The Goonies. Not that I’m going to put up a fight. I’ll watch anything so long as I can spend more time with her.
She queues up the movie, then slips into a set of light pink silk pajamas and heads into the bathroom.
Watching her getting ready for bed, washing her face and dancing around to an ’80s playlist that Linny sent her, I imagine what it could be like to have this every night.
Only this time when I envision this scene, it’s back at my house, both of us washing up for bed together, dancing around the house and cuddling in my bed for a movie night while Berry curls up at our feet.
Even the thought of it as a possibility sends a sharp pang through me.
I pray that her plan works, because if she ends up leaving the island after all, I think she’d take a piece of my heart with her. No, scratch that. I know she would.
And not just a piece.
The whole. Damn. Thing.
As I lie there with her head on my chest, our legs tangled beneath the comforter, the realization washes over me.
I’m falling in love with Marnie Stevens.