Maine Squeeze (21 page)

“'Cause we should, I think,” he said, laughing. “That name sounds familiar. Where's the phone book?”

“You are horrible. You're so horrible,” I told him. “Don't you have like a serious girlfriend in New York?”

“Correction. Had,” Richard said.

I rolled my eyes. That was Richard for you. Every girl was perfect, every girl was the one he'd been waiting for, the one he wanted to marry. And then … he'd be on the ferry and there'd be someone cute and his old relationship would be history.

At least he was nice to them while he dated them. The problem was that they weren't prepared for how short an attention span Richard had for relationships. It was like everyone came with an expiration date. “I don't know where he gets it from,” Mom would say, “but it's not from me.”

And then Dad would get sort of red and flustered and mumble something about “skipping a generation,” but I'd always start wondering what exactly happened when they met in college. Dad was so mild-mannered and sweet and … well, goofy … that I couldn't picture this cloud of women around him, fighting over him. No, not in a million years.

Richard, on the other hand? That I could see. I
had
seen it. He'd dated so many girls on the island that he'd run
out
of them. And he didn't even have a bad reputation. If a girl ever did what he did? Well, never mind. He was here now, and I was very excited to see him. “This is going to be so cool. I'm working tonight, so you should come in and eat for free. Bring … whoever. Then we can all go to the fireworks together. You, me, Evan—I mean, Ben—”

“Whoa. What's up with that?” Richard sat up a little on the sofa. “Now we're getting to the good stuff.”

“There's no … stuff,” I said. I was about to tell Richard the situation when Blair came downstairs.

“Hello. Who are you?” she asked Richard. The thing that killed me about Blair—okay, one of the things—was that she could look good no matter what time of day it was. Sure, she spent tons of time in front of the mirror to do it, but the thing was that it paid off. Me? The more time I spent, the worse I looked, it seemed. I'd make too many second guesses about my makeup and end up ruining my face, or hair. Or both.

“This is Richard. You know, the guy in all the pictures?” I pointed to the living room wall, where the photos of Colleen and Richard Through the Ages—from the cute to the embarrassing to the okay to the good—were displayed.

“Oh, my god. Of course you are. And Colleen said you might be coming for the weekend. That's great!” She walked over and held out her hand. “Hi, I'm Blair.”

“Nice to meet you, Blair,” Richard said as he slowly shook her hand.

“Hey, would you like some coffee?” Blair offered.

“Sure. Sounds great.” Richard smiled at her. “Thanks.” Then he turned to me. “It's really strange being in our house and being waited on by someone I don't know. Not to mention sleeping on the sofa.”

I didn't mention that it was also really strange, because Blair never made coffee. Or did anything around the house, actually. Except occasionally borrow the car without asking and use up groceries she didn't pay for.

“Did you see Haley?” I asked. “She would have had to be at work already.”

“Horrible Haley? No, I didn't,” Richard said.

“She's staying in your room this summer,” I said.

“Yeah, you told me that. Your E-mails have kind of dropped off lately, though. Anything I need to know about?”

“Ah … Betty McGonagle broke her arm?” I said.

Richard sighed and snuggled back under the blanket. “Slow news day on the island, as usual.”

“No, but I feel really bad for her,” I said. “I've been visiting her.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, get up—let's have breakfast. Then maybe you can get to work. We've been saving up some stuff around the house for you to do. The hinge on the screen door is busted, for one.”

“Oh, great. That's what I want to do on my long weekend,” Richard complained. “It better be
good
coffee.”

“Don't count on it,” I told him.

“How about a Bobb's bib?”

Richard looked up at me with his eyebrow raised. He was having lunch at Bobb's with a couple of his old high school friends. “How about no?” he said.

“Come on, you have to wear a bib,” I said. “If you order the lobster, you get a bib. Free of charge. No, really.”

Carl leaned over to Richard. “I know I asked you this before, but is that gorgeous girl your sister?”

I'd had such a crush on Carl when I was ten and he was eighteen. He always teased me like that, whenever I saw him. Now he was already starting to lose his hair at twenty-five. It made me feel old.

“No, that's not my sister, that's an annoying waitress,” Richard said. “Colleen, when is the last time you saw me wear a bib? Never.”

I shook the plastic bib in front of him, the way you'd shake a towel that had sand on it. “Come on. For me?”

“No. I think I can eat a lobster without ruining my shirt.”

“And I had my camera ready and everything,” I complained. “I was going to take a picture of you in the bib and E-mail it to Mom and Dad.”

“Well, forget it. So that's your boyfriend, right?” Richard pointed at Evan with a lobster leg. “I remember him from last summer.”

“No, it's not,” I said. “I'm with Ben. You know Ben—you met him at Christmas.”

“Oh, right. Ben.” He stared at me and gestured for me to come closer. He lowered his voice and said, “Coll, reality check time. That guy is either your boyfriend or he's going to be—”

“No!” I interrupted. “He's my
ex
-boyfriend. Evan. Remember how upset I was last fall? How I was crying and miserable?”

“No.” Richard shook his head. “Sorry, but I don't.”

“Oh. Well, that was all
his
fault.” I glared at Evan, who was cheerfully greeting a large table of twelve guests.

“Uh-huh. Well, I don't know what happened back then, but he seems to kind of like you now. I saw the way you guys made sure you got in each other's way? Just to get through the door?”

“We did not,” I said, remembering how I'd had to squeeze past Evan. Wait!
Was
one of us going out through the in door? On purpose? And was that one of us … me?

“It's not like that,” I said, but I was wondering. Was it like that? Evan had never given me a reason to think he wasn't still maybe interested in me. We were just not seeing each other now.

“Well, why don't you bring me another lobster?” Richard said as he cracked a claw.

“Are you serious?” I asked. “Two lobsters?”

“Yeah. Completely serious. And when you get it for me, try not to touch that guy,” Richard whispered. “I want to see if you can pull it off.”

“Richard!” I whispered, slapping his shoulder. “Quiet.”

“Don't hit me,” Richard said.

“Yeah, hit me instead,” Carl said. “And you can bring me another lobster while you're in there, okay, Colleen?”

Luke was busy chewing, but he held up his hand and signaled for another for himself, too. Richard and his friends always ate
so much
, I thought as I walked into the kitchen. They hadn't changed at all since last summer, or the summer before that, or …

“Did you see him?” Samantha asked when I nearly crashed into her. She was standing right by the door, peeking through the window in it. “Did you see how cute he is?”

“Who?” I asked.

“That blond guy at table seventeen. I'm waiting on him,” she said. “Remember, the guy Mr. Hamilton picked up from the ferry?”

“Oh, yeah. Now I remember,” I said as I checked him out.

“His name's Troy Hamilton.” Samantha nodded. “And guess what? They're here to evaluate the catering menu because they hired Bobb's for his cousin's engagement luncheon next week. And I was right—we're totally invited. As caterers, that is.”

“Sounds fun,” I said.

“Well, sort of. Does walking around offering trays of mini crab cakes count?” she joked.

When I got back to Richard's table with the tray of three lobsters, Richard was on the other side of the restaurant, talking to someone at another table. I glanced over just as a woman's arm shot out and she doused him with a glass of water, right in the face.

Richard stepped back, looked shocked, and then came walking back over to his table. The front of his faded navy polo shirt was drenched.

“You should have gone with the bib,” I teased as he sank into his chair.

Carl and Luke were laughing at him. “What happened?” Carl asked.

“I was trying to talk to that girl from the ferry last night. The one staying with the Ludlows?” Richard dabbed his face with a napkin. “Ludlow, Ludlow … what Ludlow do I know who would want to throw water at me?”

Carl snapped his fingers. “Emily Ludlow, you idiot. You went out junior year.”

“Right! Right. But that was like ten years ago.” He rubbed his neck. “Why is she still holding that against me?”

“You stood her up for the prom,” Luke said. “Does that ring a bell?”

“Oh, crap. This place
is
small,” Richard complained.

“You know what?” I said, thinking of my own predicament, being stuck on an island with my current and my ex. “We should live in Montana or California. Even Rhode Island would be bigger.”

“Why do you think I moved to Manhattan?” Richard replied, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Emily Ludlow's table.

“Wait a second, wait a second. I know all about Richard, but why do
you
say that?” Carl asked me.

“Oh. Uh, looks like another table needs me.” I escaped before they could ask any more questions. I could just see those guys having a field day with my situation. Before they left Bobb's, they'd probably harass Evan to no end. I didn't want them doing that.

That was
my
job.

Richard was catching a ride back to the city on Monday morning with Luke, who was driving down to Portland, where Richard could get the train.

I hadn't seen him too much the night before, when everyone on the island had gone to watch the fireworks. Ben and I hung out together, while Richard ran around with his friends. They'd stayed out until at least two in the morning. I wasn't surprised that Richard was looking a little the worse for wear as he got out of the car and we walked slowly toward the ferry. We both waved at Luke, who was already on the boat, waiting for him.

“I know I should be a better big brother. I don't really set a good example.” Richard took a sip from the can of ginger ale he'd grabbed on the way out the door, and made a face. “But I do have to give you some advice.”

“Don't drink heavily the night before you have to get on a ferry and then be in a car and then on a train?” I said.

“Ha ha, very funny. I'm
fine
.” He scratched the blond stubble on his cheek. “It's just—look, Colleen. About you and that guy at the restaurant.”

“There is no ‘about' us,” I said.

“Just think about what you really want. Because if you don't
know
what you want, you're just screwing around with other people's feelings.”

This would have to be ironic, coming from him.

“No offense, Richard. But I just don't know how much you know about real relationships.”

“Ooh. Ouch.” Richard pretended to dab his face, as if I'd punched it and given him a bloody nose.

I laughed. “Well, sorry, but it's true.”

“It might be true, but I do know no one likes being lied to. I mean, once it's over …” He shrugged. “It's over.”

“Yes, but it's not over until it's over,” I said.

“That makes no sense.” Richard leaned over to give me a hug. “But whatever works for you, Coll. I'm off to make my fortune.”

“That's what you said last time. Send me some
checks
already.”

“I'll come visit you at Bates in the fall!” Richard called as the ferry started to pull away. “Make some cute friends, okay?”

“You're horrible!” I yelled.

That was all I needed, Richard, Mr. Short Relationship Attention Span, hitting on my college roommates and breaking their hearts. And being way, way too old for them—only he wouldn't think so.

But as I watched him go, I had to wonder: Did Evan and I really act that obviously toward each other that even my brother had to comment on it? Was I still as attracted to him as I used to be? And if I was … then what was I doing with Ben?

Chapter 18