Page 43 of Island Girl
Chelsea turned to face Merritt. “Don’t let Maggie fool you. She wants all the gossip just as much the rest of us but is too afraid to ask you directly. So…?”
Merritt took a sip of her lemonade, considering how much to share. These women had become something like family sinceshe’d returned to Florida. Maggie especially. She'd been the one to encourage Merritt to come to the islands in the first place, to take a chance on something new. She deserved honesty.
“The bar is good,” she said slowly. “The work is hard, but I like it. The regulars are wonderful. Justin is…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “He's a good boss. A good person.”
“But?” Grandma Sarah's voice was gentle.
“But the apartment is…challenging.” Merritt set down her tea. “It's right above the bar. The noise carries. And the ceiling is low, and the light is bad, and I can't play my guitar without feeling like I'm bothering someone.”
“Wait.” Chelsea sat up straight. “You're playing your guitar again?”
“I am. At the bar, actually. Crocker, Justin's grandfather, asked me to play one night, and now I do it twice a week. Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Merritt, that's wonderful.” Maggie's face lit up. “Your mother would be so proud.”
“That's what my dad said.”
“Your dad is a smart man.” Grandma Sarah leaned forward, her sharp eyes bright with interest. “So you're playing music again. How does it feel?”
Merritt thought about it. About the way the music moved through her, loosening things she'd kept locked away. About Ray's face when she played, the way he turned toward her, the crack in his armor that opened a little wider each time.
“It feels like coming home,” she whispered, not realizing how quiet her voice was. “I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I started again.”
“That's how it works with the things we love.” Grandma Sarah nodded sagely. “We bury them to survive. And then, when we're ready, we dig them back up again. They're always there, waiting.”
Sophia burst up the stairs and onto the porch, her hands covered in dirt, her face alight with triumph.
“I found a worm THIS big!” She held her hands about a foot apart. “Paolo said it was the biggest worm he'd ever seen!”
“That's…wonderful, sweetheart.” Sarah grimaced. “Please wash your hands before you touch anything.”
“But I want to show Noah!”
“Noah can see it after you wash your hands.”
Sophia considered this, then shrugged and ran into the house. A moment later, the sound of water running echoed from the kitchen.
“That child is feral,” Sarah said, but there was love in her voice. “I blame Trevor.”
“Trevor is wonderful, and you know it.” Maggie poured more lemonade for everyone. “Speaking of which, where is he?”
“Coming,” Trevor's voice drifted from the garden, followed by the sound of footsteps on the shell path. He appeared a moment later with Noah beside him, both of them slightly sunburned and windswept. “We got distracted by a pelican. Noah wanted to know why its beak was so big.”
“For catching fish,” Noah said, as if this were obvious. “It's like a net. Did you know they can hold three gallons of water in there?”
“I did not know that,” Merritt said. “That's impressive.”
Noah beamed and then looked at Merritt. “Mom says you can play guitar. I got one for Christmas but I don’t know how to play it.”
“Maybe Merritt can teach you,” Sarah said. “If she ever has time. She works and plays music at night at a place in Sanibel. Not too far from us.”
“I'd like that.” Merritt smiled at Noah. “I’ll talk to your mom, and we’ll find some time to have a lesson. I can show you some chords.”
“Can I, Mom? And can we go hear her play?”
“No, sweetie, children can’t go into the bar, but yes, you can have lessons. We’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe Merritt could play one night here on Captiva? Gretchen and Isabelle’s café has music sometimes. I bet their customers would love to hear you play.”
