Page 79 of Seven Summers Ago
If you bring me some seafoam chocolate I’ll be your best friend
You already are my best friend
I pull out into traffic again and onto the main road that leads to the beach. The traffic is picking up now that it’s later in the morning. Folks getting kids to school, getting onto the ferry, getting to work. Everything moves the same here as in Golden Harbor, the same as in Seattle really. Just on a smaller scale. Maybe even a simpler scale.
There are a few beaches down off the main road. But I’m trying to find the perfect one. In Dottie’s mind, it apparently exists. But could she specify and help me out—no.
When I was young, Grandma Dottie brought me to the island a few times. As a child, I found the ferry ride exciting and the shops off the main road overwhelming, filled with beach toys and trinkets. But the stretch of one small beach after anotherwas my favorite. The shell selection is better on the island than in Golden Harbor.
As a teenager, I came to the island with friends. Beck and Stella, sometimes Jack, Daisy, and Christian. Back then the island allowed bonfires on the beaches. We’d stay late and sleep in our cars even though we weren’t supposed to. But the last ferry leaves strictly at five year-round, long before the sun goes down.
Since it’s still early, I stop at a strip mall with several coastal shops and a fish and chips shop on the corner. When I enter the first shop, it’s packed full of stationary, painted wooden block signs with silly quotes, and stuffed animals that Charlie would go nuts over. I can’t resist looking at and touching everything. I’m so used to bringing Charlie with me and reminding her to not touch anything that it’s like I’m making up for it.
I pick up a card for Stella that has two sea turtles sipping margaritas. And because I don’t want to leave Daisy out, I find a Slug Bug keychain and buy it for her. In the next store, there’s a coloring book I know Charlie will love. I pick it up for her instead of a new stuffed animal, since Beck has gotten her some recently.
My mind goes to Beck, but I try to push him to the back of it. Maybe it’s because he’s on the island now. Knowing he’s so close is keeping a continued buzz in my brain. It’s tempting to text him. To take him up on his offer to meet me so I don’t have to be alone while spreading Dottie’s ashes. But I can’t keep relying on him to do the hard things. And things are too awkward between us right now.
After I purchase the coloring book, I push out of the store and onto the sidewalk where the scent of the ocean and deep-fried seafood fills the air. It’s been forever since I’ve had fish and chips. West doesn’t like seafood, so we never get it.
I walk to the corner and order my lunch from the window. While I wait for my number to be called, I scroll social media andsit at a wooden picnic table where the blue paint is weathered and chipping. A woman with an apron tied around her waist and a pencil behind her ear approaches my table. In one hand she has a cardboard basket with fish and chips and in the other a bottle of water. “Here ya go, dear. Guess you didn’t hear your number being called.”
“I’m so sorry.” I bite my lip and accept my lunch from her.
“Ah, no worries. You looked a bit distracted.” She wipes her palms across her apron and gives me a sweet smile. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you.” I return the smile and gaze at my food with appreciation as my mouth waters.
Say what you will about seafood, but you can’t go to the beach without eating it. Even if it upsets my stomach, it will be worth it. I’ve got no plans but snuggling Charlie on the couch tonight and watching one of her favorite movies.
My phone vibrates while it rests on the wood tabletop.
West
Just wanted to check if you made it to the island and see how Charlie liked the ferry ride
I thought it would be better if I did this alone so I didn’t bring her with me. I left her with Stella
The bubbles appear and then disappear. They appear again but same thing, they disappear. Apprehension settles in my stomach and I pick up a piece of fish, breaking it in half and dipping it into the tartar sauce. It’s perfect. Flaky but not dry and not smelly. That’s key to good, deep-fried fish. That it doesn’t actually smell like fish.
I try a few of the fries and the greasy residue doesn’t stick to the top of my mouth. They’re hot and delicious.
My phone buzzes.
“Ugh.” I groan out loud when I see West’s name across my screen again. It’s not as if we agreed on a no contact arrangement, but I suppose I assumed it.
West
You should’ve asked me first before leaving Charlie with a stranger
My eyes widen and my stomach bottoms out as I reread his text several times before I finally respond.
Stella isn’t a stranger. I’ve known her for years. And Charlie is comfortable with her
West
She’s a stranger to me
A shiver of anger races across of my skin.
