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“Before you get grumpy with me, you might ask yourself: who would Uncle Bob text if he caught you making out at the park last week?”

There it was. The fatal flaw in my plan to take it slow with Anya: my family. I covered my face with my hands. I thought since there were no immediate fireworks, Bob decided to let my transgression slide. I should have known he was just storing ammunition for greater impact.

“Does Anya know?”

Vi’s eyes sparkled. Dammit. She had only suspected who I’d been with. I’d confirmed it. I should have taken my coffee and escaped, instead of staying to trade barbs.

“Who did he tell?”

She patted my cheek. “Check your phone, hotshot. I’m heading to work. Something you should think about too.”

I took my coffee to the living room, pulling my phone off its charger and scrolling through my messages.

Uncle Bob: Vanessa, I thought you taught your kids better than to be sucking face at LK.

Uncle Bob: But you helped me win the Monthly Mayhem Pool at work. Cha-ching.

I groaned. My folks had been safely out of it thanks to their trip. But no way my mom was ignoring that message, international texting fees be damned.

Zach: Wasn’t me. Your perfect angel was tucked up in bed.

Vi: Not it.

Gran: Wish it were me.

Mom: Drew?!?

Gran: My plan is working…

Mom: What plan?

Gran: Nunya.

Mom: Nunya what?

Gran: Nunya business.

How long before my mom calculated the time difference and called me? I pulled fresh clothes from my duffel, showered and changed for work. Turning off my phone was tempting, but I wanted to respond if Anya texted me.

I checked on the evaporation houses at the farm, then worked on processing my last batch of salt into our signature blends. We’d started out with only a few basic products: a plain sea salt, a madrona smoked, and a garlic blend, but we’d been experimenting with more and more varieties, including my newpersonal favorite, a dill pickle salt. Our partnerships with other local farms brought in any herbs and spices we didn’t grow.

Gran was nowhere to be seen when I swung by the house to pick up more clothes. Probably out back smoking in the garden. Keeping my distance was the smart move until I was ready to enact my revenge. I’d paid for expedited shipping, which meant I had two to twenty business days before my purchase would arrive. Most carriers didn’t deliver to the island, so we were subject to the gentle whims of our post office, bless their hearts.

Letting Anya come to me still seemed like the best approach, which meant avoiding Vi’s house until she’d be home as buffer. Instead of driving to Vi and Anya’s after work, I stopped off at Harbor Brews.

Zach shifted to his evening menu after four, which included a few local beers and ciders and fresh popcorn. He sold a ton of Island Salts because he used our popcorn blend with nutritional yeast. It sounded weird, but it was delicious, and once customers tried it, they were hooked.

He was busy with orders, so I scooped a paper boat full of popcorn, then helped myself to one of the island beers and a table overlooking the marina. I could just make out Zach’s boat at the end of the dock, bobbing gently next to Rae’s.

“I’m surprised to see you here, freeloader.”

“What, did you and Vi brainstorm nicknames together?” I asked my brother, grimacing.

He shrugged, his charming smile making his dimples flash. I glanced around. Sure enough, there were a couple of twenty-somethings sipping drinks in the back corner. No way that grin was for me.

“The truth hurts, brother dear. Pay for your beer, and I’ll stop.”

“Pay for your popcorn topping, and maybe I will.”