The Clam Shack was a Lobster Bay mainstay. Situated right on the beach, it had been frying up clams, onion rings, and fish since Andie was a little girl. They took Shane’s truck, which brought back memories of the hundreds of times they’d driven the route to the beach.
Of course, it wasn’t the same truck he’d had in high school, but as Andie gazed out the passenger-side window over the dunes at the ocean, she felt herself slipping back to those carefree days.
“Have you been here since you’ve been back?” Shane asked.
“No.” Andie stood in front of the small building, breathing the tantalizing aroma of fried clams, and wondered why she hadn’t.
“I don’t come here that often, trying not to clog up the arteries. Every once in a while it tastes good, though.” Shane stepped up to the window. “You still like tartar sauce?”
Andie nodded, surprised he remembered.
They sat side by side on the weather-worn gray wooden picnic table bench, facing the ocean. You couldn’t beat the view. The tide was out, and the ocean was about a hundred feet away. Andie could feel the moist, salty air on her cheeks and hear the rhythmic sound of the waves punctuated every so often by the cry of a seagull.
Toasted rolls overflowing with golden fried clams sat in red-and-white checked paper “boats” on the table in front of them. On the side of each tray sat a mound of French fries and creamy coleslaw in paper cups.
Andie slipped off her sandals and dug her toes into the warm beach sand.
“This table is ancient. Do you think it’s the same exact one we used to sit at?” Shane asked before trying to stuff the end of a roll in his mouth.
Andie looked behind her at the Clam Shack. The small building, barely big enough to house a kite, was painted white with green trim. A green-and-white striped awning shaded the order window. The menu posted on the side had been updated as well as the awning, but otherwise it looked the same as it had thirty years ago. “Could be. The place hasn’t changed much.”
“I think the portions are smaller.” Shane frowned at his roll.
Andie picked a clam out of her roll, dipped it in tartar sauce, and popped it into her mouth. Crunchy and sweet. “Still just as delicious though.”
A gull swooped down and landed on the beach in front of them, looking expectantly at the table.
“Remember that time a gull stole a clam right out of your hand?” Shane asked.
Andie pulled her tray closer. “Yes. That was not funny. It scared me.” It hadn’t been funny at the time, but now the memory made her laugh. She’d been holding the clam roll in her hand while talking, and a gull swooped right in and grabbed a clam. She’d been so startled she’d dropped the whole roll in the sand. Shane had bought her a new one. He’d always been a nice guy like that.
“Did you ever want to live anywhere else?” Andie asked, keeping an eye on the gull. She might feed him a fry, but she wasn’t wasting a clam on him. Those were all for her.
Shane thought for a minute then shook his head. “Nah. I was stationed all over the world in the navy, but I always just wanted to come back here.” Shane turned to look at her. “What about you? You lived in the city for a long time. Do you miss that?”
Andie tossed a fry to the seagull, and two more swooped down to battle him for possession. “Maybe I miss it a little. The pace mostly. The scenery is much nicer here.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Of course now that I have a grandkid, I wouldn’t want to live too far from him, and luckily they’ve made their home here.”
Andie studied Shane. He’d aged well. Looked like he was still keeping himself in good shape despite having been out of the navy for over a decade. His face was tanned, and the few wrinkles he had were in the right places—laugh lines that showed he spent a lot of time smiling. His hair was that distinguished salt-and-pepper color that looks a lot better on men than on women.
She was suddenly self-conscious about how she’d aged. She wasn’t the thin waif she had been back in high school. Her hair was the same length but shot with strands of silver. And the wrinkles. She didn’t even want to think about those.
“It’s nice you can be close to Caleb. He’s adorable.” Andie had met the chubby toddler a few weeks ago, and he’d just about stolen her heart, as well as made her sad that she’d never have a grandchild of her own. She’d never regretted not having kids, but a grandkid would have been nice.
“I got a few good things out of the marriage, anyway.”
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bring you down.”
Shane laughed. “No problem. That’s old news now and really was for the best. We had some good years, but in the end, she just wasn’t the right one.”
Andie sensed him looking at her, and she kept her eyes on the ocean, suddenly feeling awkward. “Hard to picture you as a grandfather. Feels like just yesterday we were graduating high school.”
“I know. Those were good times.”
“They were.”
They lapsed into silence, staring at the ocean, each with their own memories. It wasn’t the awkward silence of strangers, but the compatible silence of old friends.
“What about you? You never married, right? No kids?” Shane asked.
“Me? No. Never found anyone that could stand me long enough,” Andie joked. But as she glanced sideways at Shane, something in her heart pinged, and she wondered why she’d pushed away every guy that had tried to get close. Was it because she’d left “the one” behind?
Ding!
Her phone alarm went off, and she pulled the phone from her pocket, adrenalin shooting through her when she saw the message.
“Oh crap, look at the time! We have to get back. The inspector is due to be at the Thompsons’ in ten minutes!”