"I'm looking for Miller Street, but I missed my turn.""There aren't many turns in Pelican Bay." The woman laughs and smiles back at me."No, but I've always used the big tree on Main.""The storm in 2013 took her. Blocked half the street when she fell. Had to divert traffic around both city blocks. A mess it was."2013? Has it been so long? I'd once vowed I'd come back to Pelican Bay every year. Of course, those promises were made before I met Mario. Before he swept me away into his lifestyle of fancy parties and what he called the high life. It's possible Mario didn't steal my innocent happiness. I merely left it here so many summers ago."I'm Pearl and this is Roland." The woman steps out extending her hand for a quick shake. "Where are you looking to get this late on a Sunday night?"I wasn't aware seven thirty was late, but there's no way I'll argue the point with either of these two. "Gertie Thompson's house.""Oh, sweetie. Gertie passed away about a month ago. Her
I release a silent scream that comes out as a gasp and then pull back from my now almost open window. My balance is off from the sudden movement, so I latch on to the rail to stop myself from tumbling over."What are you doing?" the disembodied voice asks again.There's a shadow a few feet past the stoop, the actual form of the man hidden in darkness. I am clueless to what I'm dealing with, but I imagine a cop would make themselves known, flashing a badge or pair of handcuffs by now."Um. I live here," I stammer over my words. Technically they're true. I will live here. Once I'm inside.The shadow shifts, stepping a foot closer. "You got proof of that?" he asks in a quick flat sentence like he's already decided I don't.He's right."Erm... no." Copies of the paperwork are in my mother's safe in Oklahoma. I'm set to receive an official copy from Aunt Gertie's lawyer here in the mail, but it's not shoved in a pocket somewhere. "I have a key." The useless key dangles from my p
"Yeah." Who doesn't like noodles?He slides a cell phone on the island separating the kitchen from the dining area and leans against the cupboard behind him. We're an entire room apart, but Ridge's presence fills the open space. Most of his form is hidden under his thick black winter coat, but I use my imagination. As if he read my mind, begging him to take off the thick coat, he tosses it next to his phone on the counter.A white long sleeve shirt covers his torso, the material stretched at his biceps when he crosses his arms in front of his chest. I catch myself ogling him before it becomes noticeable... I hope."What will you do for breakfast?""Breakfast?" I haven't decided on dinner yet. "I don't really need breakfast. Just coffee." My large metal canister of cheap coffee took up an entire corner of one box, valuable packing real estate, but worth it. Mario insisted we drink premium blends. Six months ago I tried to revolt and bought the economy sized version of my childho
I race around the track, drop off another package, and hit the buzzer as I pass. The ding from the victory bells turns into a hard knock, and I peek around questioning where the noise comes from. It happens again, this time bringing me out of my dream, and I open my eyes to the dark room around me.I'm wrapped up in the white quilt from the spare bedroom. It would make more sense to claim the master bedroom, but Gertie's possessions are still in there, looking like she'll return at any moment. This room feels like mine. It's the one where I spent summers curled up in the thick comforter and propped against the light blue familiar walls reading a book.The knocks come again, but this time there's a male voice yelling from somewhere out front. "You up, Tabitha?"It's another three point four seconds before I recognize it as Ridge's voice. Then I'm up and out of bed, tugging my brown hair back into a proper ponytail. I hightail it out of the bedroom to find him standing in my kitche
Mario.He's called repeatedly every day since I left. The constant interruptions to my GPS app added to my frustrations and made it difficult to forget him."There's signal here?" I yell the question back to Mack since we're the only two in the store.I turn and he's rounding the shelves behind me. "Oh sure. It depends on the carrier, but when the weather conditions are right, the fog's burned off for the morning, the moon's in the East kind of thing, you can pick up a signal on this side of the store. It's half the reason the young kids come in here to buy pop every day."Or ogle the hot guy. I don't think everyone is here for the pop or cell signal. Either way I hope it works out well for his business.My phone rings, Uncle Cracker, "You Make Me Smile" playing through the store. I really need to change the song. Mario is not that guy anymore. There's no smiling when I remember him, only scowls. He's more of a "No Scrubs" by TLC guy at this point."Important call?" he asks
I drop the can of paint, and it falls to the side and rolls under the back end of the car. With a hand on the top of the trunk, I brace, debating whether I need to make a run for it. A tall blonde hops off my porch, leaving the rocker she'd been sitting in wobbling from her sudden departure."I've got it. Thanks. I reach back into the trunk, curious about who the hell is chillin' on my porch, but not curious enough to ask her.She sticks her head in the trunk, disregarding what I said, and pulls out the second gallon of paint and one of the plastic bags. "Name's Katy. Hardware, huh? Did you see Mack?" The questions roll out of her with barely a breath."Um... yeah."Katy walks up to the porch, the paint swinging in her hand. "I brought your mail."I've been here less than twenty-four hours, how can I have mail? "Okay...""Larry, the mailman, is up there in years. He forgets what road he's on most of the time. As long as the numbers match, he crams it in the box," she carrie
Twenty minutes later Katy and I stand outside Bonnie's Diner on Main Street. I managed to get the paint off my face and hands, but blobs of light blue are still stuck in my hair. It looks like I'm sporting highlights from a paintball gun. Katy swore there wasn't time for a shower, but she somehow painted and didn't get a drop on her. She could be a witch. Or a relative of Martha Stewart."Bonnie's has the best club sandwich," Katy says as she holds the glass door open for me.Let's hope the food is better than the décor. Bonnie's hasn't changed a single bit since my last visit to Pelican Bay. It's your typical 1980s diner. There are no cute black and white tile floors or themed pictures on the wall. Rather it's stark and in a weird way reminds me of the restaurant the characters always ate at on the Seinfeld sitcom.There's a white tile floor, rows of booths on the side wall, and tables spread out in the open area. A laminate counter spans the length of the back wall with stools
A shadow falls over my food as a tall guy in khakis and a dark blue polo stops at the end of our table. "Katy." His eyes barely flit over to her before he's focused on me. "Tabitha." He smirks."Pierce," she says between clenched teeth.His dirty blond hair's swept off to the side in a flawless hairdo. It probably takes him half a bottle of gel every morning. "Move over, Katy.""Go away, Pierce." She tries to shoo him away with her hand, but he doesn't leave."I haven't met our new friend yet." He sits down on my side of the bench until I'm forced to slide over, taking my food and drink with me. I shake his outstretched hand while Katy glares at us. "I'm Pierce.""Yes, I heard. It's nice to meet you." I take my hand back as soon as possible."No it's not," Katy sneers. Pierce looks nice, but Katy acts like he carries the bubonic plague. Although since we've already established she's crazy, I'm not sure how much stock to put into her assessments.Pierce only laughs. "You t