Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
I change the vinyl, now playing Percy Sledge When A Man Loves A Woman, my mom and dad’s song. Sitting in the middle of the living room floor, my mind racing.
Once again, I delete the text I wrote, not needing to bring Baylee into this. I just need someone else to decipher what it all means…if it means anything at all. But I can’t run to her; how unfair is that of me after everything I did to her?
Instead of sending her a text, I doomscroll Instagram, and my mind tells me to search Molly’s Instagram, knowing someone like her has one and it’s not private; she wants people to see and be envious of what she has.
Her page is the first to pop up. Clicking on it, it’s public. Licking my lips, my finger scrolls, but I make sure to touch the side of my screen. The last thing I need is her knowing I was on her page.
Numerous photos of her in different places, different people. I have to scroll down a bit to find a picture of her and Bohdi, and when I do, it’s a punch in the gut. My gaze trains on his face, zooming in on his eyes. He’s smiling, but there is no happiness behind it.
Scrolling down a bit more, I find their engagement photos, over the top and screaming money. I can’t look at them.
“What the hell are you doing, August?” I chastise myself. Because this isn’t who we are. I went years without snooping on Bohdi, and here I am two days in Driftwood Bay, and I’m stalking his fiancé’s Instagram.
The sun is setting and I’m becoming antsy. I can’t sit here. Not letting myself think twice, I get up, grab my stuff, and head to the car.
Main Street is busy; the nightlife is soon fixing to gear up.
Finding a parking spot, I step out, shaking my hair out of the top knot it was in. It falls to the middle of my back, curly and full of life.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I just walk. I want to blend in and be a vacationer for a bit.
As I step into Things To Remember, the old smell of antiques welcomes me.
I browse the shelves, picking up things here and there, but nothing catches my attention.
Turning to the furniture, I stop dead in my tracks.
“Oh, my.” Sitting in front of me is a beautiful, detailed wooden headboard; the carvings are everything.
“Can I help you?” a voice behind me speaks.
Whipping around, I say, “I’m just browsing. Thank you.”
She doesn’t leave but stands beside me. “It’s gorgeous. Antique,” she announces like I can’t see that. I hold in a giggle. “This is a French Louis XV, around the year eighteen eighty, pristine walnut wood, hand carved.” Her voice is so silky, trying to lure me into buying.
“It’s beautiful, but unfortunately, I’m not in the market at the moment,” I tell her politely.
“One of a kind.” She walks to it, looking back at me. “They don’t make things like these anymore.” She squints at me. Is she trying to scare me into buying it, or does she have something in her eye? It’s hard to tell.
Smiling friendly at her, I say, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Not letting her get another word in, I head to the front of the store, exiting.
I think about texting Baylee to let her know I’m walking the shops, but decide not to.
I don’t want to seem too pushy. I’m still holding back, just because I don’t want to hurt anyone again.
And definitely not her. So, I head to the Candy shop; the only place that sells my favorite saltwater taffy is Driftwood.
“Here you go.” The young cashier hands me my bag. I’m now the proud owner of four pounds of strawberry kiwi taffy. It’s a lot, but it’ll last me a while.
Crossing the street, I walk to the other shops, window browsing as I’m eating my taffy, in my own world.
Stopping as I pass Crabby’s, I’m once again met with the for-sale sign on the window of the empty shop.
This time there is a dimly lit light at the back of the building, highlighting a small kitchen through an open door.
Pressing my face against the glass, cupping my hands to help me see better, it’s one huge space, but with so much potential.
Grabbing my phone, I take a picture of the for-sale sign. “What are you even doing, August?” I mumble to myself, not needing people to think I’m crazy. But maybe I am?
Popping another taffy into my mouth, I walk to the bookstore hoping I’ll find something new to read.
Browsing, a red and black cover catches my eye. Dark romance, not something I’d really read, but the blurb is intriguing, and it got me at female rage.
Standing at the checkout, the cashier comes around to check me out; we both recognize each other at the same time. “August.” Her sweet voice fills the quiet shop.
“Mrs. Libby.” I give her a wide smile.
Her tiny body maneuvers from behind the counter so fast, and she’s hugging me. “It’s so good to see you, baby.” She pats my back.
“You too.” And it really is. Mrs. Libby was a good friend of my mom’s.
Easing her grip on me, “What are you doing here?”
A forced smile comes to my face. “I’m here to sell the cottage.”
Her eyes widen and her small mouth falls open, but she quickly closes it. “Oh,” is the only word she lets out before she walks back around the counter to check me out.
Her entire demeanor changed in an instant. I watch her as she rings me up. Smiling sweetly at me, she says, “It was good to see you, August.”
“You too, Mrs. Libby.” I take my receipt and book, wanting to get out of there.
Pulling the door open, she says, “August.” I stop and turn back around. “Don’t rush into anything. If something is going to work out, it’ll work out.”
I squint at her, but she doesn’t elaborate. I give her a wave, exiting back into the cool night, her words repeating themselves.
The streets are dying down; the families back at their places for the night. I continue to walk, with nowhere in particular to go. It just feels good to breathe in the sea, feeling like I’m home for once in so long.
I don’t know how many times I’ve walked these streets.
Sometimes causing trouble, but most times not.
Everyone knew Baylee and me as well as the Westmore boys.
I don’t know if that was a bad thing or a good thing.
It was a time to have. I wouldn’t have changed growing up here during the summers.
Driftwood Bay is where I fell in love, but also where I had my first heartbreak, along with everything else.
It molded me, and for that, I’m so thankful for it, even with the memories I wish I could forget.
As I continue walking, the sound of muffled music lures me. Turning from Main Street, I spot a little dive bar that used not to be there. Interest piqued. The bright neon sign reads Pirate’s Hideaway. I can’t help but smile at the name; everything pretty much has an ocean-themed name here.
The entrance door is wide open, letting me get a look inside.
It’s not packed, so I decided to stop and check it out.
My eyes fly around trying to take every bit in.
There are nets strewn around the ceiling, with fake crabs hanging from them.
The bar looks like an old pirate ship, but a miniature version.
Instead of actual bar stools, they have barrels to sit on.
A random jukebox in the corner, two pool tables, and a few scattered tables.
It’s nothing to call home about, but it’s unique to say the least. Where was this back in the day?
“What can I get for you?” the bartender calls to me before I’m even fully at the bar.
“Umm, what do you recommend?” I ask, lifting my eyebrow.
He holds up his index finger before pulling a glass from under the bar. I watch him move around, knowing exactly where each liquid sits. “Pirate's booty.”
I can’t help but let out a loud laugh. “And what’s in that?”
“Oh, you don’t want to know.” He winks at me before placing a drink in front of me.
Rolling my eyes, I take a sip; the flavors burst in my mouth, sweet, fruity, and hiding the alcohol that’s in it. It’s too easy to drink, which is scary.
Thankfully, the barrels are actually chairs, and not something I’m going to fall through. Using the bar to prop myself up to the barrel, I take small sips of my drink and watch the few people who are in the bar.
“How long has this been here?”
He throws his rag onto his shoulder. “About two years, I think. I’ve only been here for a few months.”
“I would have killed to have had this place here years ago.” I take a sip.
He smiles at me, his piercing glinting from his bottom lip. “You’re a townie?”
Tipping back the rest of my drink, I set the empty glass down.
“One more, please. And not really a townie, summer resident, but haven’t been here for years.
Just taking care of a few loose ends and I’m gone again.
” I can feel the liquor taking effect, my cheeks becoming hot…
or is it from him glowering at me like he is?
He’s cute, definitely not clean-cut, and looks like trouble. I smile at him.
“Here you go.” He hands me another Pirate's Booty. Before reaching his hand out to me, he says, “I’m Cal.”
“Nice to meet you, Cal. I’m August.”
I sit and make small talk with Cal, learning that he’s from New York. “What are you doing over here?”
“I wanted to actually have seasons.” He laughs while handing me a bowl of peanuts.
I look at them, wondering whose hands have been in them, but the liquor has taken to my brain, making my nose numb, and I ignore any other thought but to eat them.
My bowl of peanuts is almost empty when loud laughter, followed by a few guys, comes into the bar. I don’t turn to watch where they go, but as I’m fixing to ask Cal for another drink, a laugh catches my attention.
Slowly, I move my eyes to see out of the corner of them, and immediately I become stiff. Standing in the group is Bohdi, but he doesn’t see me. I want to get up and leave, but this place isn’t packed and I know it would attract attention to myself.
Fixing my body so that my back now faces them, I busy myself with my phone, mad at myself for drinking because I can’t drive back to the cottage.