Chapter 23
Opinion: Luck is a lie. What happens to you is related to your work ethic or karma. Nothing else.
—Delilah Dune, opinion writer
L yla awoke to her phone ringing the next morning. She patted the area around her air mattress without opening her eyes, until her fingers clasped the phone and brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Lyla? This is Peter. Good news. We have a contingency offer for your parents’ house.”
Lyla’s eyes shot open and she sat up. “What’s the contingency?”
Peter chuckled dryly. “Well, I must say the condition on the sale is a little unusual. My clients have been burned in the past on an offer they put in for their previous house. They purchased their home and the day after the sale went through, a wildfire tore through their neighborhood. They lost everything.”
“That’s bad luck,” Lyla said, even though she didn’t believe in luck.
“You’re telling me. These buyers want to put in a bid, but under the contingency that this weekend’s hurricane doesn’t damage the house.”
Lyla laughed a little because that was absurd. “I can’t control the weather any more than you can, Mr. Blake.”
“And I can’t control whether this couple buys your parents’ home. They love it, though, and as of right now, they want it. So let’s just pray that Hurricane Bill cuts us all a break.”
Lyla absently massaged her temple. “Right. Okay.”
“So, do you want agree to their terms? It would mean no more showings. The house would be taken off the market, contingent on Hurricane Bill.”
Lyla nibbled at her lower lip. “I guess so.”
“I need a yes or a no, Lyla.”
Lyla pulled in a breath. It wasn’t as if she had buyers breaking down the door. Echo Cove was a small town that people didn’t generally move to. “Okay. Yes,” Lyla said, “it’s a deal.”
“Perfect. I’ll draw up the paperwork. Talk to you soon.”
Lyla disconnected the call and broke into a drawn-out yawn. Remembering Allison, she quickly pulled up her friend’s contact and dialed. When Allison didn’t answer, Lyla tried again. She tried three times before giving up and texting.
Lyla: You okay? I’m checking on you.
She waited, but Allison didn’t respond. It was early still. Maybe Allison was just sleeping. She’d try again later. And even if Allison insisted that she didn’t need company, Lyla would go over and bring Allison something to eat. Even when you were depressed and possibly pregnant, you needed food, right? Especially then.
Lyla headed to the bathroom to freshen up. She needed coffee. And if Allison was still sleeping, presumably, she couldn’t get a cup of coffee there. So, instead, she’d go to Bernadette’s place and maybe make a little more progress on building a friendship. The only problem was that relationships couldn’t be built on secrets, and now Lyla had one to keep for Allison and TJ.
A lump of guilt formed in the pit of her stomach. The same stomach that begged for a steaming cup of coffee.
Opinion: Coffee was meant to be drunk hot, no matter the season.
Lyla got in line and shifted back and forth on her feet. There were three customers ahead of her. Then two. Then only one. Lyla rehearsed how she’d greet Bernie in her head, wanting desperately to keep their cordialness going. Bernadette had warmed to her a little bit the other night when they’d hung out with Allison.
The customer in line ahead of Lyla turned and walked away with her coffee and breakfast. Lyla’s turn.
“Hi!” Lyla said, a bit too bubbly. She was trying too hard and she knew it.
The corners of Bernadette’s lips lifted slightly upward. “Lyla. What can I get you?”
Straight to business. Lyla tried not to take it personally because that was how Bernadette had always been. Glancing up at the menu on the upper wall, Lyla pretended to make her choice even though she already knew exactly what she wanted. “Um, let’s see. Can I have a . . . medium coffee with two raw sugars? And a bagel with cream cheese, please.”
“Sure. Coming right up.” Bernadette turned to prepare Lyla’s coffee while she asked her employee to make Lyla’s bagel.
“And no freebies this time,” Lyla called to her back. “I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.” She immediately felt foolish. Were they even friends?
Bernadette didn’t respond. Instead, she took her time with the order.
A moment later, Bernadette slid the drink across the counter to Lyla. “Here you go.” She tapped her finger along the register and read out the price. “Six dollars and thirty-three cents,” she read out.
“Wow. Maybe I should buy my coffee at the gas station,” Lyla joked. Even as the words tumbled off her lips, she knew they weren’t funny. They were possibly offensive. “Just kidding. The gas station coffee would likely send me to the ER, and I don’t want to spend my night that way, so . . .” She trailed off, her hands shaking just enough to make it challenging to swipe her card in the reader. “Do you, um, maybe have time to sit and have coffee with me?” she asked hopefully. “I’d love to do some more catching up. Just the two of us.”
Bernadette’s mouth opened, forming a little o . “I don’t think so,” she finally said, hooking one thin brow high on her forehead. “I’m working.”
“Right.” Lyla nodded. “Yes, I see that. It’s pretty busy in here. No gas station coffee for anyone in Echo Cove,” she teased. Why do I ramble so much when I’m nervous? That begged the next question, why was she so nervous?
“Enjoy your breakfast, Lyla,” Bernadette said politely. Then she stepped to the side as the other employee slid Lyla’s bagel to her.
“Thanks.” Lyla grabbed her coffee and her breakfast, just wanting to slink away. This interaction had high school energy, hot and cold, love to hate, all in a blink of an eye. “See you later, Bernie. Bernadette.”
It wasn’t exactly a rejection though. Bernadette was working—of course she couldn’t stop what she was doing to sit and catch up with Lyla. Maybe she was reading into things too much. Bernadette had never given her the warm fuzzies. She just wasn’t that type of person.
As Lyla turned to leave, she considered walking out of the coffee shop, but she’d brought her laptop and she needed to finish a copywriting job. She also didn’t want Bernie to think she’d been intimidated by her in any way. Bernadette had been fine with Lyla and Allison the other night, but maybe she wasn’t comfortable without the buffer of Allison’s over-the-top optimism.
That was fine. Just the fact that Bernadette tolerated Lyla without showing her the door or spitting in her coffee was progress from their younger years.
Instead of leaving, Lyla set her coffee and bagel down and took a seat at an open table against the wall. Sliding the breakfast items to the side, she pulled her laptop out and opened it in front of her. She’d always liked working in a public space such as a coffee shop. Inspiration was everywhere.
A blank document greeted her with its blinking cursor. When the words didn’t immediately start flowing, she reached for her bagel and took a bite, looking around the shop. Bean Time Coffee was a nice place. It was impressive and something to be proud of.
Lyla took another large bite of her bagel, the cream cheese squishing into her mouth and satisfying her senses. Then she startled when someone pulled out the chair in front of her and sat down. It took a minute for Lyla to chew and realize who she was staring at.
“Hi, Lyla. How are you?”
Lyla was still chewing her large bite of bagel, so she simply nodded, her mind scrambling to put a name to the face.
“Travis told me you were back in town. I know you’ve come home over the years to visit with your parents, but I haven’t seen you. You look great. Amazing, actually.”
The woman seated across from Lyla looked so familiar. Who was she?
She seemed oblivious of the fact that Lyla couldn’t figure out who she was. “Travis tells me you’re going to be his date to my wedding this weekend.”
Lyla finally swallowed her bite of bagel. “Bailey! Hi! Congratulations on your upcoming marriage.”
Bailey laughed as she stared at Lyla. “You had no idea who I was, did you?”
“Well, it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other.” Lyla hadn’t seen Bailey since going off to college.
“Yes, it has. When I saw you sitting over here, I just had to come say hello. I read your opinion column, you know? I think your pieces are fantastic.”
Compliments always made Lyla feel like hiding behind a rock. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. So, what are you up to these days? Besides getting married.”
“I’m an animal groomer,” Bailey said, lifting her chin and smiling proudly. “I work out of my home. Cats, dogs—I even have a ferret that I groom for a lady here in town. You’d be surprised how profitable a grooming business is. And,” she said proudly, “I’m an entrepreneur. My parents told me I was ruining my future when I got pregnant and then refused to marry the guy, but I have a great life.”
“I’m happy for you.” Lyla was also jealous. Bailey had her act together, and Lyla’s act had been falling apart at the seams this year.
“So? You and Travis? Finally?”
Lyla blinked, immediately slipping into an innocent act. “What? Us?” She lifted her brows as if she were surprised by the mere suggestion. “No, we’re just friends. Why? Did he say something?”
Bailey snickered as she leaned back in her chair. “My brother had such a crush on you that summer you moved away. You know, he wrote you an email that he never sent. I saw it on his monitor one day and teased him mercilessly.” She grimaced. “I wasn’t the nicest sister back then.”
“Brothers and sisters are allowed to be merciless to one another. I think it’s a rule that they have to.”
Bailey nodded. “I teased him until he almost cried.”
Lyla felt her eyes widen. “Travis almost cried?”
“It was an emotional summer. On a lot of levels.” The glimmer in Bailey’s eyes dimmed.
“What did the email say?” Lyla asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bailey grinned. “A bunch of ooey-gooey crush kind of stuff. I think he was scared to send it to you. I felt bad for him. Mostly because I knew I couldn’t be there for him. A big sister should be there for her little brother.”
“You had your own things to deal with.”
She lowered her eyes momentarily. “Like being a single mom with no family support. Yeah, that was hard—but I wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes you have to go through the storms to see the rainbow.” She let out a dry laugh. “My dad used to preach that. He probably thought I wasn’t listening, but I was.”
Lyla wished she’d seen that email from Travis. Maybe if he had sent it, she would have shared her own feelings for him. “I had no idea that Travis liked me in that way.”
“How could you not know?”
Lyla shook her head. “He was the same old Travis. Always.”
“Well, I know my brother, and he’s still just as smitten with you as ever. I’m glad you’re going to my wedding together. Assuming Hurricane Bill doesn’t have any objections.” She pushed her chair back from the table and stood again. “I know you don’t live here, and neither does he. Sometimes things work out, though.”
“We’re just—”
“Friends. Yeah, yeah. Right.” Bailey winked. “See you Saturday, Lyla.”
“See you.” Lyla watched Bailey walk toward the café’s exit. Then she reached for her coffee and took a sip. That’s when inspiration hit. She knew exactly what her next article was going to be about, and Bob was going to love it even more than the last. She was feeling inspired. On a roll. And once again, she owed it all to Travis.
Later that night, Lyla watched as Travis pulled a board off the floor and dragged it over to the exterior window. “You’re sure you don’t want my help?”
“I do this for a living, Ly. I’ve got this.”
She fidgeted with a torn piece of her nail. “So, these boards are going to ensure that this house is still standing after Hurricane Bill blows through? And that the real estate deal holds up?”
“No promises. Unfortunately, I don’t have any ins with Mother Nature.” He secured the board in front of the window, leaning into it with his body.
“Well, I say you need my help even if you claim you don’t.” She walked over and held the board against the side of the house and window.
Amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced over. “Thanks.” He used his free arm to wipe the sweat off his brow, which was somehow an ultra-attractive move. “These boards will keep your windows from blowing in. If the roof blows off, then you have bigger problems.”
“But I have you, so it’ll all be fine.” She realized how that sounded. “I mean, I have you to put the roof back on for me.” She focused on holding up the board. It was heavier than it looked. “After we do this, I have a suggestion for how we spend the rest of the evening.”
Travis nearly dropped the drill he was holding. There was something wild and excited in his expression, and it didn’t take a detective to know where his mind had immediately gone.
“Not that.” She rolled her eyes. “I want to go to Skate Nation.” She kept her gaze straight, but she felt his eyes on her and imagined the deep pinch of his brow deepening. If she looked at him right now, she’d probably start laughing.
“You want to go skating?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
He cleared his throat. “Why?”
“Because skating is on our final bucket list, and we need to finish it before the hurricane hits.” Not that skating was the final item, but the more items they checked, maybe the less bad luck there’d be. Or maybe she’d get up the nerve to jump off the Pirate’s Plank between now and Hurricane Bill’s landfall.
Travis licked his lips. It was a nervous tell of his. “I’m not a big fan of skating, Ly. You know that. And we’d be the oldest people there.”
“Are you scared?” She couldn’t contain her grin. Travis hated to be accused of being scared. Always had.
“No. Of course not.” He licked his lips again. “I mean, I don’t want to make a fool of myself out there. I couldn’t even skate when I was a teenager.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ll help you,” she promised. She was actually looking forward to holding Travis’s hand in the rink.
“When was the last time you were in a pair of skates?” he asked, still looking unsure.
“Probably when I was eighteen. But it’s like riding a bike, right?” She nibbled at her lower lip. “I’m serious about finishing our list. It’s important.”
“I don’t believe in luck, remember? I’m not superstitious.”
“Well, neither am I. At least not usually. But this time . . .” She wasn’t sure why, but she knew finishing the list was imperative. “This time, I guess I am.”
“Because you think it’ll save us from imminent disaster with this hurricane?” One corner of his mouth quirked, but there was still discomfort in his eyes. He was probably remembering that doughnut seat he had to sit on their senior year of high school.
She tilted her head. “Please. For me.”
He blew out a breath. “Okay. Fine. But if I break something. . .”
“You won’t,” she promised. “It’ll be fun.”
He didn’t look so sure. “For you, maybe. You always did enjoy watching me make a fool of myself.”
She laughed softly, excited about their plans. Truthfully, she was mainly just excited about spending time with Travis, and yeah, maybe she would enjoy watching him take a few spills in the rink. It was the one place where he seemed vulnerable and where she excelled.
He lifted his drill again, lining it up with a screw. Then he pressed the trigger, and the sound of metal spiraling into wood silenced them. He lifted one board after another and secured one window after another. When he was done, he put away his tools and used the front of his T-shirt to wipe his face.
Lyla couldn’t help noticing his abs and chest as he lifted his shirt. As he lowered his shirt, he caught her watching.
“You sure you don’t want to spend the evening at my RV instead of Skate Nation?”
“Nice try, but no. I need this.” Echo Cove needed this.