Page 85 of Cuts like a Knife
“Drew?” I call. “Do you have a backpack?”
The bathroom door opens and Drew emerges, fastening the band of his vintage watch over his wrist. He already looks perfect. Dressed for the day. Bathing suit, button up shirt, rolled at the cuffs. He’s got both of our beach towels from yesterday already over his shoulder269.
“I do have a backpack,” he says. “Why?”
“She said …” I look down to my phone. “There’s a secret beach on the far side of Stocking Island and it might be good to bring a backpack. That’s all I know.”
“I’ve heard Stocking Island is amazing. You sure you want me to tag along?”
“She invited you specifically.”
“Are you profiling her or something?”
“Something like that. So you’ll come? You’ve already got the towels, I see.”
“I was going to suggest some more time at the beach. Your thing sounds better. Do we have time to eat?”
“Um…” I look back at my phone. “What’s the address here by the way?”
“Tell her number Five, Hoopers Bay cove,” he says. “Any island driver will know.”
Alexis: 5 Hoopers Bay Cove. Should we eat first? Do we have time?
Maylee: Don’t eat. Got it covered. ;) See you in a few!
To Drew I say, “she says not to eat. There was a winky face.”
“Interesting,” he replies
“So,” I say.
“So.”
“I should get ready.”
“Sure. Sorry. I’ll give you the room.270”
Drew retreats into the common area and I don my bathing suit, shorts, and a simple tee. I’m about to sling my laptop bag over my shoulder when I realize how it will look. As far as Maylee knows, we’re just hanging out. Taking a break from working. If she says anything really juicy, I’ll have to make a mental note. Or put it in my phone.
I step out into the living room just as a white van pulls into the gravel drive. Drew’s waiting, towels in hand.
“Is this backpack okay?” He asks.
He’s produced a vintage canvas bag. It’s pretty cool, but without knowing why it’s needed, I just shrug.
“I have no idea. She just said we might want a backpack. I’m sure it’s fine.”
As we step out onto the little porch, the van beeps twice and the siding door opens to the back, but instead of Maylee Wise, out comes the face of Danny Hughes, the Canadian chef. He’s brandishing two paper cups of what look like coffee.
“Come on, folks. Get a move on. We’ve got fuel. Besides, adventure waits for no man!”
Surprised to see him, Drew’s raises his eyebrows and looks my way, but I just plaster on a smile make my way down the rickety stairs and into the car.
Adventure waits for no man. Nor woman.
If this works out, maybe I can finally get a story that will show people — show everyone — how wrong they were about me.
~
