Harbormaster: I love the way we talk about nothing.
Sweetpea: I love that I can say anything I want to you. I’ve never had that freedom with anyone else.
The next night, Arielle went shopping for some things to perk up the loft, giving Sabrina a chance to write Tucker. After she’d sent the first message, he’d replied, and they’d been chatting since.
Are you kidding? she wrote. Name one good movie in the eighties. Just one.
She sent it and leaned back, anticipating his answer. She realized she missed being with him on the weekends. She’d gotten accustomed to going to his house, to being with him physically.
She shook the thought, reluctant to spoil her good mood.
His response appeared.
Back to the Future. E.T. Raiders of the Lost Ark. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids . . . I could go on and on.
Honey, I Shrunk the Kids?, she replied.
He knew she wasn’t a movie buff. Give her a good book any day. She wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten on the topic, but that’s how it was with them. They’d leap from one topic to another, and before she knew it, hours had passed.
“Ooooh, who’s Harbormaster?” Arielle’s voice made her jump.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Sabrina’s heart raced from the scare.
“I wasn’t sneaking. You were just distracted.” Arielle wiggled her eyebrows. “Is it a maaan?”
Sabrina closed the program before Arielle could snoop. “Yes, it’s a man, but he’s just a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” Arielle tugged Sabrina’s ponytail, then set a bag on the floor and sank onto the sofa, still panting from her trip up the stairs. “Does he live on the island?”
She supposed the truth couldn’t hurt. “Maybe.” She regretted closing the program without saying goodbye to Tucker. She’d write him when Arielle took her bath.
“So, are you, like, dating? Come on, tell all. How long has this been going on?”
“There’s nothing going on. We’re just writing each other. What did you buy?” Why did her cousin have to be so meddlesome? But then, maybe if Arielle saw she’d moved on from Jared, she’d stop pushing her to attend the wedding.
“Stop changing the subject. When did all this start? I know I’m being nosy, but give a single girl a break. I haven’t had a date in months.”
Sabrina couldn’t imagine that was by anything but choice. “We’ve been writing a year or so.”
“A year! And he hasn’t asked you out?”
How could Sabrina explain without revealing everything? “I told you, it’s not like that.”
“Ha! I saw that look on your face when I came in. You were totally absorbed, and you had this goofy smile on your face.”
“I did not have a goofy smile—”
“Did too. Completely goofy.”
“Whatever. Don’t you need a bath?”
“Changing the subject again?” Arielle raised an eyebrow. Finally, she jumped off the couch. “Fine, fine. Be all mysterious and secretive,” she tossed over her shoulder, walking down the short hall.
“I will, thank you very much,” Sabrina called after her.
The next week Sabrina had to admit that Arielle had livened up the quiet loft, and coming home to someone was nice, even if it did mean the TV was on too much. She’d bought a new rug and a giant oval mirror that she hung in the hall. That was coming down the instant Arielle left. Sabrina didn’t need to see herself every time she came and went.
If only Arielle would stop pressing her about the wedding. If she had a dime for every time Arielle had said, “But the family will be so disappointed . . .”
“Order’s up, Sabrina,” Gordon called from the grill. She hadn’t heard the bell. It was unlike her to be so distracted, but Arielle’s arrival had discombobulated her. It was as if her two worlds, past and present, had collided. As much as she enjoyed Arielle, she couldn’t help worrying that her path would cross with Tucker’s. For that reason, Sabrina was eager for her cousin’s departure. But she was beginning to think Arielle wasn’t going anywhere until Sabrina agreed to attend the wedding.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
Sabrina set the loaded plates on a tray and delivered them to table fourteen, a four-top by the front window. Outside the glass pane, the morning sun wakened a sky that promised to be clear and blue. The door’s bell chimed, and Oliver shuffled in, nodding at her from across the room. She wondered what word he had up his sleeve today.
She went for the coffee carafe, and when she returned to fill Oliver’s mug, Arielle was seated at the table diagonal to his. She looked flawless in a pastel-pink T-shirt. Her blonde hair framed her face, and pink lip gloss highlighted her trademark smile. Arielle waggled her fingers at Sabrina.
Panicked, Sabrina glanced at the clock above the door. Nine minutes after seven. Tucker would arrive in three minutes.
Three minutes. She had to get Arielle out of there. Quickly. He’d think he’d found Sweetpea, and then what? Everything would be ruined. And just when she was so close to convincing him that finding her was hopeless.
Sabrina made a beeline to her cousin, watching the smile slide from Arielle’s face.
“You’ve got to leave,” Sabrina whispered. She should’ve told Arielle not to come here. Why hadn’t she just said it? Now look what was happening.
Arielle opened the menu. “What? I came for breakfast.”
“I know. I can’t explain now, but you can’t stay.” She checked the clock. Ten minutes after seven.
“Sabrina,” Oliver said, tapping her arm. “Yesterday I gave one of my employees a vituperation. What do you make of that?”
She glanced in his direction. “Not now, Oliver.”
Arielle perused the menu. Sabrina took it from her hands, watching her cousin’s eyes widen. “You have to leave. Now. Please. I can’t explain, but can you just trust me?”
Seeming to read Sabrina’s desperation, Arielle eased back from the table and stood. “All right, but you are acting awfully weird, cuz, and I expect a full explanation later.”
“Okay, okay.” Sabrina ushered her toward the door, praying Tucker was running a minute or two late for once. The clock read 7:11. Her heart was in her throat, a solid lump that pulsated wildly.
The kitchen bell dinged. Table five’s order.
Sabrina pulled the door for Arielle, but her cousin stopped on the threshold, coming face-to-face with Tucker.
No.
No, no, no. Her mind spun in a hundred directions as she watched the emotions flicker across Tucker’s face. Surprise at nearly bumping into Arielle. Recognition. Confusion. One emotion faded into the other, slowly, as if time was wading through molasses.
Then his eyes found hers. Two furrows crouched between his brows. Something dimmed his eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? But that made no sense.
Tucker looked at Arielle. “What’s going on?” he asked finally.
Say something. Think, Sabrina!
Arielle was looking at her, too, her eyes searching for answers Sabrina didn’t have.
“Excuse us,” a man behind Sabrina said.
They were blocking the exit. Sabrina and Arielle moved outside, letting the man pass.
What could she say? She was caught. There was nothing she could do but introduce them. Her eyes begged Arielle to play along.
She swallowed hard. “Tucker, I’d like you to meet Arielle. I was—I was going to surprise you, but, well, here she is. The woman you’ve been writing to all this time.” In her stomach, an aching hole opened, wide and gaping. The smile on her face felt frozen and stilted. Plastic.
Arielle studied Sabrina a moment, then turned a dazed smile on Tucker.
Tucker looked between them. Finally, as if remembering his manners, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He cleared his throat. “In person, I mean.”
Arielle shook his hand. “You too.”
Sabrina shrank inside as they touched. What had she done? What was going to happen now? Now that Tucker thought he’d met the woman of his dreams? You’re going to lose him for good, that’s what. The thought awakened an old wound.
A tap on the café window snagged her attention. Char motioned toward Gordon, who gave an exaggerated shrug from the kitchen window. His brows were pulled low in a deep V. It was the same look he had right before he’d fired their last server. The couple at table five was glaring at her. She had to get back in there.
Tucker gave his cap a sharp tug, then stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“I have to get back to work and—uh—Arielle has to be somewhere else . . .” Sabrina looked to her cousin for a confirmation.
“I do. I have to be somewhere else.”
“So, maybe you two can catch up later?” Sabrina eyed Arielle, who took the hint and started walking away.
“Sure, later,” Arielle said.
Tucker nodded once. “See you.”
As he entered the café behind her, Sabrina could swear he was burning a hole through the back of her head. She needed a moment alone like she needed oxygen. She didn’t even look at Gordon as she passed the kitchen and headed to the employee restroom. Just two minutes. She closed the metal door behind her and bolted it shut, leaning against it. Her legs quaked. Her entire body had become the epicenter of some horrific earthquake.
What now? What was going to happen? Could she get Arielle to leave? But then Tucker would wonder why she’d come at all.
There had to be some way out of this. Think!
She remembered the look on Tucker’s face. Not the response she expected from someone meeting the woman he’d been desperately searching for. But then, he’d come to the café expecting coffee and had gotten the surprise of his life instead. Maybe he’d been in shock.
Well, he wasn’t the only one. And Arielle must be totally perplexed. But she could deal with her cousin later. Right now, she had to face Tucker, had to seem pleased that she’d located his Sweetpea.
Sabrina closed her eyes and banged her head against the door.
Okay, maybe she could fix this. Maybe she could convince Arielle to spend a day with him and then go home. Then Sabrina and Tucker could continue writing, and everything would return to normal.
Normal. The word had such a nice ring.
She drew a deep breath, let it fill her lungs, then exhaled, feeling in control now that she had a workable plan. Of course, she’d have to convince Arielle to cooperate. And she’d have to endure the knowledge that Tucker was with her cousin. The notion made her stomach twist.
One bridge at a time, Sabrina.
A tap on the door startled her.
“Sabrina . . .” Char’s voice called. “You okay in there?”
She straightened. “I’m fine.”
“Well, Gordon’s not, honey. You’ve got three orders up, and he wants to know why you’re MIA.”
“Be right out.” Sabrina splashed cold water on her face and tidied her ponytail. Just go out there and do your job. You’ll be too busy to chat with Tucker. Tell him you’ll talk to him tonight. No, scratch that. There’s no reason for you to go to his house tonight since you’ve already found Sweetpea.
The realization hit her fresh, and her spirits deflated. No more evenings at Tucker’s. No more impromptu suppers or boat rides. No more sitting close at the desk while he read over her shoulder.
You ninny. That’s what you wanted. All these mixed feelings were making her crazy. But she couldn’t worry about that now. Get through the next half hour. Once Tucker leaves, you can figure out everything else.
She exited the restroom and collected the plates of food. “Sorry about that,” Sabrina told Gordon when he glared at her through the window.
She delivered the food to the tables, then took the orders of two new customers. Next she went for the coffee carafe and stopped at Tucker’s table first. No sense delaying the inevitable.
“So,” he said as she poured the coffee, “you found her, huh?”
Sabrina drew up her lips and hoped for the best. “Surprised?”
He leaned back in the chair. “You could say that.”
He was looking at her oddly. Staring. Studying her as if he’d ordered oatmeal and she’d served a bowl of wet sand.
“Well, Sabrina . . .” Oliver said from behind her. “What do you think about that? You know, about my giving an employee a vituperation yesterday?”
“Oliver, I—”
“So, how’d you do it?” Tucker asked. He adjusted his cap, crossed his arms over his chest. His arm muscles bulged against his fists.
A man across the room caught her eye and raised his empty mug in the air expectantly.
Sabrina nodded his direction, then looked at Tucker. “How did I . . . ?”
“Find her,” Tucker said. “How did you finally find her?” His words sounded like ice chips, chiseled from a thick, heavy block. His chin rose. He tilted his chair back on two legs.
“I—”
Oliver hooted. “I stumped you, didn’t I?”
She turned a glare on Oliver. “It means reprimand,” she said just to shut him up.
“She from Ohio, like you thought?” Tucker asked.
Why didn’t he seem happier? “Uh, no. Georgia.”
The bell dinged as Gordon put up another order. She had to get it together. “I have to get back to work. I’ll explain later.” Maybe by then she would actually have an explanation.