Maine Squeeze (31 page)

“Um,
yeah
?” I said.

Evan laughed. “Yeah, probably they would. Sorry. I just … I can't stand that they're gonna be here, and we have two weeks left, and I …” He leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear, “I want to spend every night with you.”

I didn't say anything. I wanted that, too, but I knew it was impossible.

“So let's go somewhere tonight,” Evan said. “If we spend the night together somewhere else, that isn't technically breaking the rule, you know.”

“But I can't!” I laughed. “And anyway, the house is mostly fixed up and neat and perfect, but I have to make sure it stays perfect because I have to go pick them up tomorrow morning …”

Evan put his arm around my shoulders as we walked. Then he started gently pushing me in the direction of the path to the beach. “The house is in great shape. It's never been in better shape. Don't worry.”

“Yeah. But I have to worry,” I said as we stepped off the road onto the path. It was like trying to resist the tide, or the undertow maybe. An impossible thing to do, but I felt like I should at least try to resist, as if giving in right away was not really playing the game. “Plus I'm still mad at you for giving me that stupid shirt and letting me wear it in public for ten minutes, so I could embarrass myself.”

“You're
mad
at me? Come on. I think it made Graeme
like
you,” Evan said.

I wrinkled my nose. “I actually don't think he noticed.”

“Oh, he noticed.” Evan nodded. “He noticed, all right.”

“I hate you,” I said.

“I know. You really hate me. You can't
stand
me.” Evan slipped off his sandals and ran straight toward the ocean.

“Pretty much!” I called as I sprinted to catch up with him and push him into the water.

Chapter 26

“So. This is what it's like down here at seven in the morning,” I said. “I kind of forgot.” The days of catching the ferry to school at seven seemed like a long time ago. In fact, had that even been me?

“It's usually a lot colder and foggier,” Haley said.

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“No, really!” Haley insisted.

“Yeah, I'm sure it's really awful.” I grinned at her.

“What are you doing here?” Haley asked. “Oh, right. How could I forget? You're picking up the kids in Portland.”

“Yup.” I stretched my arms over my head, then reached down to touch my toes. “Is Ben working today?” I asked when I straightened up.

“Um … I don't know,” she said.

I just stood there and waited for a second for her to answer me.

“Okay, I think I do know. He has today off,” she said. “But why did you want to know?” She sounded suspicious.

“Oh, I just wondered if he'd be on the ferry,” I said. “That's all.”

“Right. Of course.” She seemed a little relieved, as if she'd been afraid I was down here to find Ben and try to win him back or something. That was the last thing on my mind. Maybe it was a little bizarre to think about the two of them as a couple, but I'd get past that. I was already halfway past it.

“You know, Haley? It's okay if you and Ben … you know,” I said.

“What?” Haley asked, a little flustered.

“I saw you guys the other day. I noticed the way you just sort of
fit
.” I'd thought that before of me and Ben, but it wasn't true. He and Haley fit. I loved him, but it was as a friend. And I loved him for being with Haley, because I knew what a great person she was and that deep down they made a better match, they were more alike. It had so often been the three of us. And maybe it still could be, sometimes, but things were rearranged now.

“I could never do that to you,” Haley said. “Ever. I'd never—”

“No, it's okay.”

“But … come on, Coll. He doesn't even like me that way—”

“Sure he does. Just ask him.” I couldn't believe I was saying that. I felt like I was standing on this tiny island of my own, only it was about as sturdy as a lily pad or a piece of paper. I was giving up the sure thing, or what used to be the sure thing, anyway. Everyone had always assumed Ben and I should and would get married someday, after we finished college. And I had no guarantee of anything permanent, or safe, with Evan.

In fact, it was almost guaranteed we
wouldn't
stay together. Evan wasn't in it for the long haul—not now, anyway, and maybe not ever. He was sort of like my brother, in fact.

And maybe I was more like them than I wanted to believe.

But I had to be okay with that. And surprisingly—to myself, more than anyone else—I was.

My life wouldn't be as predictable in the future as it had been in the past. None of our lives would be. It was scary, terrifying, and exciting. Like being with Evan.

“Well, I'm not like rushing into anything,” Haley said. “I mean … wouldn't it be really awkward if me and Ben were … you know, together?”

“Yeah, kind of,” I said. “But we'd get over it. If things got weird, I could always give him a hard time about almost puking on us a year ago.”

“I can't believe that was a year ago,” Haley said. She took a sip of coffee. “And now this summer's almost over. It went so fast. I mean, here you are, going to get your parents, and it seems like they only left last week—”

“Of course, they did decide to come home two weeks early,” I said.

“Yeah, that does make the summer seem a little shorter,” she said, laughing. “Especially since I had to move back in with my mother yesterday.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“No, I was just kidding. It'll be good for me to be at home for a week or two before college. It'll make me appreciate college even more, right?” she asked. “With my luck, I'll get a roommate who's just like my mother. She'll probably tell me to clean all the time.”

“Can you believe there's only a few weeks before we leave?” I said. As the day I was required to be at Bates got closer and closer, I seemed to be having a harder and harder time fathoming it.

“I can't believe it. I don't want to, I don't think, in a way. But I'm excited about getting to Dartmouth. I can't wait, actually. I'm just doing a good impression of someone waiting patiently.”

“It's going to be hard. Saying good-bye to … everyone. You know?” I felt my eyes fill with tears. I was feeling really emotional about leaving the island. About leaving our life here behind—if not for good, at least for a while. Nothing would be the same in a few weeks. And Haley had always been there for me, from that very first day of school, when I felt scared and alone, in third grade.

She'd been there that day on the ferry when we both met Ben. She was the one who'd pulled out the Tums after the cinnamon-raisin bagel didn't really help. How could I forget? Now we'd be nowhere near each other, and neither would she and Ben. I wondered how much things would change and how we'd all deal with that, whether this time next year we'd all be here again—or somewhere else completely.

Me? For now, I was planning on being back here. Maybe someday working at Bobb's Lobster would get old, and I'd be even more aggravated by having to deliver dinner rolls in quaint trap-shaped baskets and serve “chowdah” and tie Bobb's plastic bibs onto complete strangers. But until then, I'd be happy to live on the island whenever I could.

I sort of felt like today was dress rehearsal, as if I were getting a chance to practice leaving home. I glanced at my watch. It was ten minutes before the ferry would leave.

Last night Evan had said he'd meet me down here, to see me off—he'd promised, in fact, to buy me a cup of coffee and a couple of doughnuts and sit and hang out with me, but at the time, I hadn't really believed him, even as he said it and even as I said, “That would be so nice.” Evan had a habit of vanishing just when things mattered to me.

But at five minutes to seven, I saw him jogging down the hill toward me. I smiled, even though I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he was so late.

“You missed the coffee,” I said as he stopped in front of me. “And the doughnuts.”

“Yeah, well. I'm trying to cut back on doughnuts.” He patted his extremely lean stomach.

“Yeah, you need to do that.” I reached out to pat his stomach, too.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. “What time do you think you'll be back?”

“I don't know—late afternoon, I guess?” I snuggled against his chest. “But you know my parents—we'll probably hang out by ourselves tonight, just the three of us. I know you want to see them, but it'll have to wait a couple of days.”

Evan stepped back. “Don't tell me. Slide show. World War I battle sites. Castles. Cathedrals.”

I laughed. My parents had bored Evan a few times last summer with slide shows, one set from a visit to the Museum of Fine Art in Boston, and one from their colonial inns tour. How they could be so fun sometimes, and so dull at others, never ceased to amaze me. I hoped I wasn't anything like that, that it wasn't written into our genetic code like the lack of good timing.

Speaking of which, the ferry was leaving in a couple of minutes, and I really needed to get on board.

“But I really do want to see your parents. Tell them that, okay?” Evan said.

“I know, I know. And you will, just not tonight.”

“Okay.” Evan leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “But I might sneak over later.”

“You wouldn't,” I said.

“Coll.”

“Okay, you would, but don't. Not tonight, anyway. We'll see about later.”

“All right.” He sighed loudly. “Now, if you're on your way to pick them up and that old car of yours breaks down—”

“What,” I interrupted. “You'll come get us?”

“No. But I know a couple of nuns in New Hampshire.”

“Yeah. I bet you do.” I shook my head, laughing at him.

He put his hands on my waist and pulled me toward him. He ran his fingers down the side of my cheek, and we kissed just as the ferry horn blew three times, warning me there was a minute left before she sailed. I'd already driven the car onto it, so I didn't have to worry about that. I had a space and my ticket, and all I had to do was jump on.

But I didn't want to stop kissing him. This wasn't our big, sad good-bye scene—that was coming in a few weeks. But somehow I knew I would be ready for it this time. This wasn't
Casablanca
, and we weren't Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman.

And I wouldn't fall apart this time.

“You'd better go,” Evan said now.

“I know,” I said. “I really should.”

There was one more—the final—blast of the ferry horn, and I wriggled out of Evan's arms. I sprinted toward the boat, losing a sandal on the way. I turned around, ran back to slip the sandal back on, and saw Evan grinning at me. Then I took off my sandals and dashed barefoot toward the boat. I dodged a couple of kittens roaming around the docks, nearly falling facefirst onto the gangplank as a big calico cat got in my way. I waved at the guy collecting tickets that morning as I hopped on board. Half a minute later, we were untied from the mooring and starting to pull away from the dock.

I climbed up the stairs to the upper deck, which wasn't that crowded—it was a Tuesday morning, post-early-rush.

“Colleen! You almost didn't make it,” Cap Green said, leaning out from the cabin.

“Yeah. I know!” I sat down in the back and gazed out at the water, and at the island disappearing behind us. The way the sun was shining on the ocean reminded me of something. Maybe one of Betty's paintings.

All of a sudden I thought I heard a baby crying. That was weird, because I hadn't seen anyone with a baby. I listened again for the crying.

It wasn't crying, I realized as I turned around and saw a cat crouched under one of the bench seats across from me. It was
mewing
.