Maine Squeeze (18 page)

“Well, why didn't you call us?” Aunt Sue complained. “We would have come right over. Frank is an excellent handyman,” she said as my uncle walked back into the house, apparently having decided not to run down the mystery man.

Uncle Frank nodded proudly. “I like to think I have a knack.”

“And where was this Chuck's van? And why wouldn't you just call your parents, instead?” My aunt can really grill a person when she wants to. I'd forgotten about that quality of hers.

“He's sort of a handyman type guy,” Haley said with a shrug. “My family always calls him when there are plumbing emergencies.”

“Chuck Jacobs, Chuck Jacobs,” my uncle repeated, like a mantra. “Funny, I've never head that name. And we pretty much know everyone on the island.”

“Not everyone,” I said.

“Well, maybe not everyone, but … how did he get here? And where was his toolbox?”

“Oh, we've got all the tools he needed right here. We just weren't sure how to actually use them,” I said, nervously looking around at the kitchen. The place was totally sloppy. The only good thing I could say was that there wasn't a bunch of beer bottles or cans lying around. Some people had been drinking last night, but I hadn't. I wasn't sure about Haley. I couldn't see her sleeping with someone, sober, just because she was so dead set against it.

Please don't let anyone else wake up and come downstairs,
I thought. Especially not any boys. Or men. Or boy-men. Or book club targets.

“Well. The house is a mess, and a few things don't look quite right,” Aunt Sue commented as she turned to my uncle. “Do they?”

He shook his head. “No. Your parents would be a little disappointed right now. No, check that. A
lot
disappointed.”

“Aunt Sue, Uncle Frank? You just caught us on a bad day,” I said. “This isn't what the place usually looks like, honestly. Sunday's our day off, so that's when we clean the house,” I explained.

Aunt Sue gave the kitchen a look of disapproval. I glanced at the black cat clock on the wall. Its tail was switching back and forth, counting the seconds until she grabbed the phone and called my parents, dragging them out of a museum to let them know we were all living like heathens. “Girls, you'll have to do better,” Aunt Sue said sternly.

I figured I had to do something to prove to them that we really were taking good care of the house. “Why don't you both come over for dinner tomorrow night?” I asked.

Aunt Sue and Uncle Frank agreed to the plan, and the second they walked out of the house, I jumped all over Haley.

“So who was that guy? That guy who almost got us in trouble by running out of your room and downstairs?”

“What? He wasn't with me!” Haley cried. “Are you serious?”

“Oh.” Sam snapped her fingers. “Darn. I was hoping for some really good dirt on you.”

“Forget it, I'm boring,” Haley said with a sigh.

“So. The question remains. Who was that guy? And if he was running downstairs, why wasn't Blair? And what about the no sleepovers rule?” I groaned.

My parents would find out about this from my aunt and uncle. They'd be on the first plane out of Milan, or whatever the city du jour was. I'd have to check the itinerary on the fridge.

They'd no doubt hear about the party, too. The downside of living on an island is that everything gets back to everyone eventually. We're not very good at keeping secrets here.

Chapter 15

“What do you think I should get?” I asked Ben as we pulled into the Bobb's parking lot. I'd picked him up at his house five minutes before. Since he was coming over for dinner, it would be fun to hang out for a while together before Aunt Sue and Uncle Frank descended.

I'd tried to make something at home, but it hadn't exactly worked out. All those cooking lessons my mom had given me. She'd tried so hard. And I had no talent at all.

Erica was working all day to cover for Blair, who needed the day off so she could go to the mainland for something. (She'd never explained about the guy who slept over. She claimed to not even know who he was.) That left me holding the potholders.

It was one of those times when I really wished that I didn't live on an island. If I could just drive to some restaurant, or takeout deli, and get some pasta and salads. If there were a McDonald's or Wendy's anywhere in sight. Yes, I could buy grinders at the general store, and cheeseburgers at the Landing. But that didn't exactly say “Meal home-cooked by Colleen with care.”

Neither did takeout from Bobb's, but it was the only option left.

“You know, I can cook. I'm not bad, either,” Ben said. “I make a mean mac and cheese. Or we could just throw some burgers and hot dogs on the grill.”

“I know, but I feel like I need to do something a little more special for them,” I said.

“But don't your aunt and uncle eat at Bobb's all the time?” Ben asked.

I shook my head. “Not really, no. They think it's overpriced. My uncle once went on a ten-minute tirade about how the side salad was too small to cost a dollar ninety-nine. Then he insisted Trudy take the dessert off the check because the ice cream melted a little before it got to the table.”

Ben laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“So this will be kind of a treat for them. And I really appreciate that you're doing this with me.” I reached over and squeezed Ben's knee as I parked in front of the restaurant.

All of a sudden I remembered that Evan was working. Okay, so I'd known that, but I suddenly realized that I didn't really want Ben to come in with me and see Evan and wonder if that was why I'd come up with this plan to stop by Bobb's for food. Because it wasn't. Because I'm the world's worst cook, and if I didn't buy food here I'd be serving shredded wheat cereal to my aunt and uncle. That wouldn't get me back on their good side. I needed to be on their good side.

“I'll just run in and get a container of clam chowder and some other things,” I said to Ben. “Okay?”

“You need help?”

“Nah. It'll only take me a sec.” I grabbed my wallet from on top of the dashboard and leaned over to give Ben a quick kiss. “Thanks.”

“Wait,” Ben said as I closed the door. “Coll, hold up.”

Please don't come with me, please don't say you want to come with me,
I thought. I leaned back in through the window. “Yeah? Do you want me to get something for you, too?”

“No. I just want the keys,” he said. “That way I can listen to the Sox game while I wait.”

“Right. Sorry!” I tossed the keys to him and hurried down the sidewalk into the restaurant.

When I walked into Bobb's, I waved to Erica, then Trudy. Samantha was busy waiting on a table. In the kitchen, Evan was sitting on the freezer, eating a basket of fried clams.

“Hey. Did you start missing the place?” he asked.

“I need to buy some food for dinner,” I said. “I'm having my aunt and uncle over.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, ah, we are.”

“We?” Evan repeated.

“Me and Ben,” I mumbled.

“Is he a glutton for punishment or something?” Evan laughed. “Why don't you just bring them here for dinner? It'd be fun. I'll get your table, and I can make them laugh so that they cheer up and get off your back. Or if I don't make them laugh, then I'll give them something to complain about instead of the food prices.”

“I know. How about they come here for dinner and I stay home?” I suggested.

“Come on, they're not so bad,” Evan said. “I mean, besides being ridiculously judgmental, and the fact they wish you'd never gotten older than nine.” He slid off the freezer and dropped the empty plastic basket into the dishwasher. “Why
are
you having them over for dinner?”

“Well, you know how we had that party on Saturday night,” I said.
Because you were there and you kept talking with Ben, and then looking at me, and then putting your arm around Blair?

“Yeah?” Evan asked.

“Well, they sort of heard about it. I guess the Browns called them when things got loud, and they called but I didn't hear the phone. Which is sort of bad, I guess. But they decided it was no big deal, that the Browns were just exaggerating, so they went to bed. So instead they showed up on Sunday morning, really early, to check on me,” I said.

“You're kidding. How early?” Evan asked.

“Okay, not that early. Ten thirty. But that's early on a Sunday, when it's your day off.” I felt my face turn red. “The place was trashed, and then some guy came running downstairs while they were
standing
there, so they're convinced we're like heathens. Haley tried to cover by saying he came over to fix the sink.”

“Haley should never be the one to cover,” Evan said. “She's a terrible liar.”

“I know,” I said.

“So. What guy?” Evan asked. “Wait a second. Not Ben, was it?”

There was this weird look we exchanged when he said that. Because if I said yes, Ben was the one who spent the night, it would somehow change things between us. I don't know what it was.

Finally I just smiled. “Don't you think my aunt and uncle know what Ben looks like? It'd be kind of hard to make up a story about that.”

“Right.” Evan nodded. “Of course.”

“Anyway, I don't know who the guy was. Since Haley and Samantha insist he wasn't with them, and I know he wasn't with me, I have to assume he either passed out in the hallway or spent the night with Blair.”

“Really.” Evan nodded.

I watched his face for any sign of surprise or disappointment. He and Blair had been spending a lot of time together. Were they an item or weren't they? I really wanted to find out without asking.

“Yeah,” I said. “We actually didn't hear one way or the other yet.”

“Interesting. Was the guy anyone we know?”

I shook my head. “Not that
I
know, anyway. Oh, well, if it's important we'll meet him, I guess. Anyway, I have to convince my aunt and uncle that I'm doing just fine on my own and that the house is doing just fine, too. I've been cleaning since dawn, I think.”

“You? You hate cleaning.”

“Not as much as I hate cooking,” I complained.

“You are so domestic. It's frightening,” Evan said.

“I know.”

“So after you got busted … did your parents call to tell you they're canceling their French château tour and coming home tomorrow?”

“No.” I laughed.

“So forget about it,” Evan said with a wave of his hand. “It'll blow over. These things always do. Everyone panics, and then a week later no one even remembers.”

What a refreshing attitude. Of course, Evan didn't care much what other people thought of him, and he wasn't the one who'd get a parental lecture. I'd never met his parents, in fact. I had no idea what they were like.

“All I think of when I remember your aunt is how she threw a fit last year when she caught us drinking,” Evan said. “Remember?”

I laughed, “Oh, my god. She was ready to send us to jail and a rehab clinic just because we sneaked one glass of wine at that end-of-summer party. One glass! And we split it.”

“And she ran and told your dad, and he was like, well, it's a holiday, and they're walking home, and it was only one glass, and they're leaving now,” Evan said. “Your dad is so cool.”

“Yeah. But of course, when we left …” That was the night of the lighthouse incident. Why did I have to bring that up?

“Well, yeah. But nobody knows about that. Right?”

“Right,” I said quickly. I might have confided in a friend or two, but
he
didn't need to know about that. In fact, sometimes I wished that I couldn't remember that. It made me feel sort of stupid. That I'd misinterpreted the way we acted toward each other as something serious and lasting, instead of just a … what? A “fling”? But it wasn't.