Jesse
I don’t know why I’m surprised she’s here. This is a very small town, not exactly bursting with options for breakfast. Still, the sight of her in the café I come to almost every weekend immediately throws me out of equilibrium. I go still, suddenly forgetting how to walk.
We hold each other’s gazes for a long beat, and the intense way she’s looking at me makes me wonder again if she’s put the pieces of our shared past together. Then the spell is broken by Shelby’s high-pitched shriek, which she unsuccessfully attempts to muffle behind her hand.
“Oh my gosh, it’s her,” she whispers excitedly. “I can’t believe she’s here. In our town!”
Toby rolls his eyes. “Believe it. She’s our client. You’re going to her house tomorrow.”
Shelby pretends not to hear him. She leans over the bakery counter to stage-whisper to Violet.
“Vi! Do you know who that is?” Violet’s gaze follows Shelby’s less-than-subtle gesture toward the table where Marissa and her kids are sitting.
“Uh, should I? I assumed they were Airbnb guests.”
Shelby shakes her head excitedly.
“No! That’s Marissa Morgan. You know, Felicia Fox. From the movies?”
Violet tilts her head to the side, giving Marissa an appraising once-over. “Really? She looks different without the silver braids. They never made sense to me anyway. What kind of fox has pigtails?”
The better question is, why would anyone cover hair that gorgeous?
I think. At least I meant to think it. Based on the way Shelby and Violet whip around to face me, I guess I’ve said the words out loud.
Shelby’s mouth drops open, and Violet’s eyes are twinkling with amusement.
I turn away, bouncing Charlotte on my shoulders as I pretend to study the dessert case.
I refuse to be judged by two women who didn’t know reindeer were real animals until the ninth grade.
Shelby catches Marissa’s attention and waves frantically. Marissa waves back, but there’s a trace of apprehension in her expression. She glances over Shelby’s shoulder to meet my gaze again, and I do my best to silently communicate that we aren’t complete psychos. Most of the time.
Shelby doesn’t seem to register the unease on Marissa’s face. She grabs Toby by the hand, dragging him as she charges toward Marissa’s table. Reluctantly, I follow behind them.
“Hi!” Shelby exclaims the moment she arrives at her destination.
“I’m Shelby, Legacy’s design specialist. This is my daughter, Charlotte.
You’ve already met my husband Toby. And you’re Marissa Morgan, obviously.
” She lets out a nervous giggle, and I feel a rush of secondhand embarrassment.
Christ, this is hard to watch. Shelby is normally much cooler than this.
My brother is the blabbermouth of the family.
“Sorry, it must be so weird to have strangers know your name!” she continues.
“I normally wouldn’t bother celebrities in public, but you’re our client and all, so I hope it’s okay.
And I’m so excited you want me to work on your lake house.
We’re so happy to have you here! Sorry, I feel like I’m being weird. Am I being weird?”
“Not at all, baby,” Toby tells her. “Smooth as sandpaper.”
“Anyway,” she continues, ignoring him. “Do you want to sit with us? Violet will get us a bigger table. It would be nice to get to know each other since we’ll be working together!”
Marissa attempts a genuine smile, but I can see the tense effort behind it.
Her eyes dart quickly to the side, like she’s trying to gauge the safety of her surroundings.
It gives the distinct impression of stalked prey, and I feel a sudden, inexplicable need to protect her.
I can’t help but wonder if the reason she’s here is to escape this kind of attention.
If so, I hate knowing that we’re the ones who made her feel this way.
But I guess when you’re a celebrity, there’s no place to be completely anonymous.
“I appreciate the offer,” Marissa says a little too brightly, “but we don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
“Nonsense! You aren’t intruding,” Toby bellows.
He awards her his best grin, the crinkled kind that goes all the way up to his eyes and reassures strangers that despite his intimidating size, he’s nothing more than an overstuffed teddy bear who weeps during Super Bowl commercials.
“Let us buy you breakfast, to make up for being in your way next week.”
Marissa sneaks another glance at me, and I sense she’s looking for reassurance.
I give her a half smile and a shrug, hoping to communicate that aside from my three-year-old niece, who’s currently yanking her tiny fists through my hair, we aren’t dangerous people.
She returns it with an apprehensive smile of her own, and her shoulders lower a fraction.
“Okay,” she relents. “Why not?”
Violet grabs another handful of utensils and leads us to the back of the restaurant, where my brother helps her shove two tables together. Vi probably thinks this seating arrangement is giving us privacy, but unfortunately, that ship sailed the minute my sister-in-law walked through the door.
I allow myself to steal another glance at Marissa.
I’ve seen all her movies, of course, even that weird art house one she did right after Little LLC.
And like the rest of the world, I noticed how incredible she looked in that latex catsuit and silver braids in the Felicia Fox movies.
But I much prefer the way she looks today, dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt, her hair piled on top of her head, and not a stitch of makeup on her face. She’s breathtaking.
To no one’s surprise, Shelby starts her interrogation the minute we settle into our seats.
“So!” she says, fixing her attention on Marissa. “How are you liking the Poconos so far?”
“Not good,” Marissa’s son replies. “Our house is possessed.”
Shelby’s mouth falls open. This was clearly not the answer she was expecting. “Possessed?”
Marissa bursts into laughter and shakes her head. Her shoulders relax for the first time since we walked in.
“Not possessed. I said it was like The Possession. The movie with the moths. I…” She trails off, like she’s not sure if she wants to get into it. But a quick glance around the table confirms that we are now her captive audience, and she gives us a rueful smile.
“I opened our pantry this morning and it seems like there’s a moth infestation. I guess they got into some old flour or something. The house was vacant for a while.”
“Oh no,” Shelby says. “That can happen sometimes when houses sit. Let me give you a number for pest control.” She reaches into her purse and starts to dig around for her phone.
“Don’t call pest control. I’ll come over this afternoon and help you get rid of them.
” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I clamp it shut, wishing I could shove them back in.
God, what is wrong with me? Between me and my sweet but overbearing sister-in-law, Marissa is probably ready to bail on the Poconos before she gets through the first weekend.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she called in security.
“Oh.” Marissa’s smile is politely dissuading. “That’s very nice, but I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s Saturday.”
“It’s really no problem,” I continue, since my mouth is no longer connected to my brain. “Exterminators will overcharge you. Plus, you’d have to deal with more people in your house.”
Maybe I’m overreaching, maybe it’s something selfish in me, but I have to assume she’s here for privacy, and the idea of strangers coming into her space fills me with an uncomfortable sensation I can’t quite put my finger on. All I know is, I’d feel better if I’m the one helping her out.
Marissa bites down on her bottom lip, considering. I’m sure she has a trusted team of people who work in her house in LA, but she doesn’t know the folks out here. And against her will, she’s already spent a decent amount of time with us, so at least we’re familiar.
“Thanks,” she says finally. “That would be great, actually.”
“It’s no problem,” I say again. Cool, Jesse. Real cool.
“Lake house ownership has a learning curve. But you’ll get the hang of it,” Shelby reassures her.
Marissa nods. “It is weird being here as an adult,” she admits. “The grown-ups took care of these things when we were here for the summer. And now I’m the grown-up.”
I know exactly how she feels. When my father passed away, I became the unofficial head of the family overnight.
I may not be a parent like Marissa, but it’s jarring to have people counting on me after years of only worrying about myself.
My dad made it look effortless, but I never realized how many balls he was juggling.
Now that I’m running the business, I’ve spent too many nights lying awake, worrying that I’ll somehow screw everything up and let my family down.
That I’ll buckle under the weight of responsibilities I never asked for.
Shelby tilts her head to the side. She’s poised to ask another question, but before she can, Violet and another waitress arrive at our table, carrying several plates of food, including ours.
Marissa narrows her eyes as she glances around the table, clearly confused.
“Sorry, when did you even order?” she asks no one in particular.
“These guys come in every weekend,” Violet replies. She taps an index finger against her temple. “I’ve got their order right here.”
Shelby unwraps her fork and knife from her napkin and begins cutting Charlotte’s pancakes into smaller pieces. “You may have noticed there aren’t a lot of restaurants in town.”
Violet harrumphs. “Who needs other restaurants when we’ve mastered the trade?”
As soon as she walks away, Shelby leans in conspiratorially.
“Violet’s been my best friend since we were kids.
This is her parents’ place. Toby and I have been coming here since high school.
The food is nothing fancy, but Charlotte likes it, and I love the people who make it. And Toby will eat anything.”
We all glance over at my brother, who has already started digging into his breakfast platter with gusto. He shrugs, clearly unable to argue the point.
Shelby returns her attention to Marissa. “You said the house used to belong to your grandma? Did you visit a lot?”
Marissa nods. “We used to spend every summer here when I was a kid, but I haven’t been back in years. We stopped visiting consistently after I got my first job. I was on this show called Little LLC.”
“You were on Little LLC?” Toby’s mouth drops open, revealing a half-masticated piece of sausage. “No way! My brother was obsessed with that show. Used to watch it every Friday afternoon. How did that theme song go? Sing it for us, Jesse.”
The back of my neck heats.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmur as I busy myself with my own plate.
Naturally, my brother is undeterred. He tilts his head back and lets out a bellowing laugh.
“What are you talking about, man? You never missed an episode.” He glances around the table to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “It was wild too, because he hates musicals. Which is nuts. Who hates musicals? But he wouldn’t leave the house when Little LLC was on.”
Dear god, let the earth open and swallow me whole. I turn to my sister-in-law, sending her a silent plea to come to my rescue. She blinks at me and then understanding registers in her eyes. Blessedly, she decides to throw me a bone.
“Marissa,” she says, redirecting her attention, “have you had any time to think about remodeling ideas? I was planning to stop by the house on Monday to take some pictures, so I get a feel of what we’re working with.
I always want to collaborate with homeowners as much as possible. It’s your home, after all.”
Marissa smiles. “I’m looking forward to it. I want to preserve the character of the house. But I would prefer not to sleep in the exact same bedroom my grandmother did.”
Shelby laughs good-naturedly. “I got you. We need to make this a proper vacation home so you can come back every summer! In the past few years, a lot of houses around here have started renting out as Airbnbs, so there isn’t as much of a community as there used to be.”
“Oh.” Marissa worries her bottom lip. It’s clear that she’s choosing her next words carefully.
“I don’t know if this is going to be an annual thing.
It was kind of a last-minute change of plans, given …
the current situation. I was planning on renovating it and gifting it back to my family or putting it up for sale. ”
Shelby’s smile falters.
“Oh. Right, of course.”
Marissa, clocking Shelby’s disappointment, attempts to walk the statement back.
“We’ll see how the summer goes,” she adds quickly. “No need to decide right this second.”
The conversation shifts after an awkward beat, and a few minutes later, Violet returns with the check. Marissa reaches for it, but Toby waves her away.
“I told you, we got this,” he says.
Marissa smiles graciously. “Thank you. I really appreciate the kindness.”
“I’ll swing by around three today, if that works?” I say. “We’ll have those moths out in no time.” I fight back a full-body cringe. God, I sound like such a tool.
She turns to me, eyes widening. “Oh, yes. Yeah, that would be great.”
“Butterflies bad,” Levi reminds us solemnly.
I give him a reassuring smile. “We just need to send them outside where they live. But I’m going to need a couple of helpers. You guys in?”