Page 16 of As a Last Resort

SAMANTHA

Three days of poison from the one-pot Mr. Coffee was all I could stomach. I was shriveling away from lack of human contact and hadn’t ventured out much yet, and it was only a matter of time before I ran into someone I knew. But I was desperate.

I had somehow gotten through my first big meeting.

Even though the call with the owner of the land we were buying had gone a bit haywire.

At the last moment he’d backed out citing a stomach bug, but connected me with his daughter, who apparently was dealing with the sale for him.

She lived in Chicago. She was whip-smart and super organized and knew every single answer to any question I had and was more than happy to be accommodating with requests from my end.

Her father had owned the land since he was in his early twenties, inherited it from his grandfather.

He used some of the land to construct a little fishing post on the northernmost corner of the island.

It sat next to the lighthouse his grandfather had built with his own two hands.

Her father was a bit of a hermit, she said.

He had no desire for building or managing anything that would lure more people to his sacred spot, so he just held on to it.

But he was getting older, filling his days with shuffleboard in a retirement home on the other coast. She had no desire to move to Florida and wanted to sell.

He hadn’t even seen the property in over ten years and had no idea what was still standing or not, so he gave her his blessing.

Somehow I got through that meeting bushy-tailed, but I was wearing down.

I needed espresso. I put on my best incognito outfit and walked the two blocks to the Mug.

It had changed ownership since I had visited last, and what I walked into completely surprised me—white walls filled with subway tile, rustic natural wooden beams, and an exposed black ceiling with huge windmill fans slowly whirling around.

The baristas wore gray linen aprons with little embellishments of brass and worn leather.

I walked into a little haven protected from the outside world of palm trees and starfish. I was in heaven.

And I smelled espresso.

The girl behind the counter looked like she had stepped right out of Barista Magazine , beaming at me through vintage wire frame glasses. There were little cups of coffee painted on her green headscarf.

“This your first time in here?” she asked after I gave her my order for a triple vanilla latte, extra hot.

“Yeah, just visiting for a while.”

“Cool, cool. First one’s on the house. What’s your name?”

“Sam.” A woman’s voice came from behind me. “Oh, but apparently it’s Samantha now, right?”

My stomach somersaulted. I’d know that voice anywhere.

Being back on island, there were two major things I was dreading. One, my mother in any and all forms, who I’d barely avoided thus far. And two, Lexi.

I turned around slowly, some unknown organ in my throat with no idea what to expect.

“Hey.”

She stood there and blinked. This person who knew every bit of my life before .

The braces, the bang phase, and the immediate regret of said bang phase.

She was there to witness the acne that bloomed on my face overnight when I was twelve and didn’t go away for years.

I was there to witness the fallout when Travis McGlowen lost his virginity to Tiffany “Doormat” Dornment in her dad’s Volkswagen, and the love of her life was officially taken off the market.

She rode sidecar to my obsession with wearing different color tube socks.

She was the rock when my dad was diagnosed.

And when he was no longer there. And when Mom was no longer there, either.

Then, there was the bang phase, again.

“Austin told me you were in town. I almost didn’t believe him, but then I walk in and here you are, Samantha Leigh, in the flesh.”

“The rumors are true.” She looked exactly the same.

A pile of messy blond curls sat atop her head and she had the same hazel eyes as her brother, but hers were more brown than green today.

Seven years hadn’t done a single thing to dim the aura that surrounded this ball of sunshine.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed this woman.

“I was going to grab a quick drink. I have a few before my fitting.”

“Fitting?” I asked. I didn’t want her to know I’d been cyberstalking her and already knew about this monumental change in her life.

She held up her engagement ring.

“Oh my gosh, congratulations!”

“Thanks. It’s next month, which you would have known if you had returned even a single call or text I sent over the last seven years.”

I blinked. My smile wavered.

She cocked her head. “Actually, it was more like three years. Had to give up at some point. Didn’t want to look desperate, you know?”

I didn’t know what to say. But I braced myself for the swift kick I knew was coming and that I deserved.

“You walked away without saying goodbye.” Her voice was clear and strong, like she had rehearsed this a hundred times over.

“You didn’t return calls, or texts. The least you could have done was tell me you needed space.

Hell, the least you could’ve done was just texted me back saying I was a reminder of everything you were trying to leave behind and you needed time. ”

“I know th—”

“I’m not done yet. I would’ve given it to you. Do you get that? I would’ve given you whatever space you needed. I spent years wondering if there was something else I could’ve done. Or said.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, I know, trust me.” A forced laugh made its way out. “I went through years of therapy just to make sure I didn’t. You were the one who was selfish. You set off a bomb when you left and didn’t look back. Just like your mom always does.”

Tears stung my eyes. My mother was the last person on earth I’d ever want to be like, but I was never going to be anything but somebody else after that day. “I just thought it was better if I walked away.”

“You didn’t just walk away from your mom and the accident. You walked away from eighteen years of friendship. You walked away from me.”

The hurt in her eyes crushed my already shredded soul into even tinier molecules.

“You took away the choice for me. That was my decision to make whether I wanted to be there for you or not. And I did. I would have a thousand times over. That’s what best friends do. And you didn’t give me the chance.”

Of course, I didn’t give her a chance. She was a reminder of everything I was leaving. And to put so much energy into keeping that one little string tied when it would end up breaking anyway didn’t seem worth it.

“Are you done?” I asked quietly. “Because if you are, maybe I can finally tell you that I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that my mom is a raging addict and I didn’t know how to handle it other than to walk away.

That I’m sorry there was wreckage left that I couldn’t face.

That I was too scared to face. That I didn’t know how to face because I was still a kid .

Survival mode meant taking care of me. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t handle that more like an adult. ”

My hands were shaking.

“For what that’s worth, I wish I could go back and do things differently, but I don’t know if I’d be able to.”

She looked down, nodding her head.

“I never wanted an apology.” She wiped the tears that slowly leaked down her face. “I just wanted my best friend back.”

The floor swayed. So this is what it felt like to have a sinkhole swallow your heart.

“That person is gone.”

The moment hung, the world waiting for a bridge to build, or a stick of dynamite to go off.

“Well,” she said softly, “then can I get to know this one instead?”

I blinked. I wasn’t expecting her eyes to fill with little pools of water, and her to smile at me.

I nodded, and all of a sudden, seven years of not speaking evaporated.

She lunged forward and hugged me, nearly spilling my latte all over her and the floor.

I didn’t even mind that when it felt like it was time to part, she held on tighter like she always used to.

“Do we both get to fall apart now?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

Twenty minutes flew by reminiscing about high school and catching up on more recent life changes, including scandalous bartending stories that should absolutely be made into a coffee table book.

Lexi’s eyes sparkled when she talked about the wedding. “We’re doing it out back at Mom and Dad’s on the water. It was supposed to be low-key, but you know how Mom is.”

“So, it’s looking more like Southern Living ’s Celebrity Edition version of low-key?” I asked.

“Exactly. And you’d love the restaurant catering the rehearsal dinner. It’s a new place on the island. More of a city vibe. The food would blow your mind.”

“It feels like a lot’s changed, but it’s all still weirdly the same. Like this place. It doesn’t feel like it belongs on the island. It’s so…” I searched for the right word.

“Amazing?” Lexi asked. “Yeah, I know. A lot of places have gotten a makeover like this in the past few years. It’s starting to look like something out of a movie, each place getting more trendy as the younger generation takes over. Do you remember when this place was called First Cup?”

“They sold Folgers as their special brew. How could I forget?”

“That was the barista’s grandma. She took over about three years ago and has completely revamped the place—the menu, staff, everything. She’s even been written up in one of those magazines for baristas. Apparently, it was a pretty big deal.”