Page 18
Story: Hidden Harbor
Vi: You. Always you. I thought Rae was classier.
Rae: Sweet summer child…
Rae: I thought YOU accepted that TDB and CAD were top-notch island thirst traps by now?
Vi: I’m afraid to ask.
Lucy: Captain America’s …
Vi: Luce, if you say dick, I’m going to talk up your private glass blowing lessons to every annoying tourist who comes into the shop.
Vi: You’ll owe Gran your firstborn by the time you buy enough weed gummies off her to keep your cool.
Rae: Get your mind out of the gutter.
Vi: MY mind???
Rae: DIMPLES – Captain America’s Dimples
Maybe I shouldn’t have given Drew a hard time this morning. My friends were just as thirsty and not shy about sharing it. I squirmed. Just because I hadn’t used the nicknames didn’t mean I hadn’t heard them. At least the code name chat distracted them from any questions for me. But the minute they got me in person, I’d be toast.
Ignoring the whole exchange and pretending like I didn’t see it was my best bet.
I walked home, my two-block commute one of the best things about the island. It was a far cry from the traffic I’d left behind.
“Hey,” Violet greeted me, looking up from her book on the couch. “The gang suggested we meet up at the brewery for dinner tonight. Cheese curds are calling my name. Can you join us?”
I bit my lip. Avoiding an interrogation would be impossible if I walked into the lion’s den, but: cheese curds.
“Sure, just let me change.”
Slipping out of my yoga outfit and into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved screen-printed tee of a kraken devouring a ferry took only a few seconds. I ran a brush through my hair and freshened my lip tint.
“Did you have a busy day?” I asked as we walked down the hill.
The brewery was a block beyond the ferry overflow lot. Close enough we could see it from the house.
Vi shrugged. “Good sales, considering it’s not peak season yet. I’m experimenting with some new recipes using our salt blends for summer, so that’s keeping me busy. What about you?”
“I’m grateful for so many regulars. I’m working on a promo for the marathon to try to attract a few runners for a pre-run class.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I can entice them with a pre-run scone.” She rubbed her hands together. “But afterward? They’re all mine.”
In June, the local market hosted a half-marathon. It brought a flood of runners to the island for the weekend and unofficially started the summer tourist season.
“Does the route still go by the farm?” I asked.
Vi smiled wryly. “Yep. And if your real question is if Gran is going to sit on a lawn chair in her truck bed with giant signs to heckle the runners, the answer is bet on it.”
Violet’s grandmother was a local legend for a reason. She’d founded the Fenwick family empire as a young widow, finding her way with grit and a sense of humor. Her strong personality and sense of self were something I admired.
“I want to be her when I grow up.”
My friend rolled her eyes. “Be careful what you wish for. I love her, but she’s a handful. If she hadn’t babysat the sheriff when he was a kid, I’m sure she wouldn’t get away with half the crap she does.”
The brewery was busy, and I was glad to see Rae had already arrived and staked out a table. A verylargetable.
“Is it just us tonight?” I asked, suspiciously. Maybe I should have paid more attention to their text messages.
Rae: Sweet summer child…
Rae: I thought YOU accepted that TDB and CAD were top-notch island thirst traps by now?
Vi: I’m afraid to ask.
Lucy: Captain America’s …
Vi: Luce, if you say dick, I’m going to talk up your private glass blowing lessons to every annoying tourist who comes into the shop.
Vi: You’ll owe Gran your firstborn by the time you buy enough weed gummies off her to keep your cool.
Rae: Get your mind out of the gutter.
Vi: MY mind???
Rae: DIMPLES – Captain America’s Dimples
Maybe I shouldn’t have given Drew a hard time this morning. My friends were just as thirsty and not shy about sharing it. I squirmed. Just because I hadn’t used the nicknames didn’t mean I hadn’t heard them. At least the code name chat distracted them from any questions for me. But the minute they got me in person, I’d be toast.
Ignoring the whole exchange and pretending like I didn’t see it was my best bet.
I walked home, my two-block commute one of the best things about the island. It was a far cry from the traffic I’d left behind.
“Hey,” Violet greeted me, looking up from her book on the couch. “The gang suggested we meet up at the brewery for dinner tonight. Cheese curds are calling my name. Can you join us?”
I bit my lip. Avoiding an interrogation would be impossible if I walked into the lion’s den, but: cheese curds.
“Sure, just let me change.”
Slipping out of my yoga outfit and into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved screen-printed tee of a kraken devouring a ferry took only a few seconds. I ran a brush through my hair and freshened my lip tint.
“Did you have a busy day?” I asked as we walked down the hill.
The brewery was a block beyond the ferry overflow lot. Close enough we could see it from the house.
Vi shrugged. “Good sales, considering it’s not peak season yet. I’m experimenting with some new recipes using our salt blends for summer, so that’s keeping me busy. What about you?”
“I’m grateful for so many regulars. I’m working on a promo for the marathon to try to attract a few runners for a pre-run class.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I can entice them with a pre-run scone.” She rubbed her hands together. “But afterward? They’re all mine.”
In June, the local market hosted a half-marathon. It brought a flood of runners to the island for the weekend and unofficially started the summer tourist season.
“Does the route still go by the farm?” I asked.
Vi smiled wryly. “Yep. And if your real question is if Gran is going to sit on a lawn chair in her truck bed with giant signs to heckle the runners, the answer is bet on it.”
Violet’s grandmother was a local legend for a reason. She’d founded the Fenwick family empire as a young widow, finding her way with grit and a sense of humor. Her strong personality and sense of self were something I admired.
“I want to be her when I grow up.”
My friend rolled her eyes. “Be careful what you wish for. I love her, but she’s a handful. If she hadn’t babysat the sheriff when he was a kid, I’m sure she wouldn’t get away with half the crap she does.”
The brewery was busy, and I was glad to see Rae had already arrived and staked out a table. A verylargetable.
“Is it just us tonight?” I asked, suspiciously. Maybe I should have paid more attention to their text messages.
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