Fisher's Light

“That little weasel better keep his hands to himself,” Trip grumbles as he walks in from the front porch and stands in the middle of the room, looking me up and down.

“Oh, please. Like you weren’t just like that little weasel back in the day,” Ellie laughs at him. “I’m sure you had a line of ladies just begging you to put your hands on them.”

Trip raises his eyebrow at her and harrumphs. “Of course I did. Have you looked at me lately?”

Ellie laughs even harder, skipping around the counter and throwing her arms around Trip’s neck. “You are the best grandpa in the entire world. I’m going to adopt you.”

Trip shakes his head at her behavior and then eyes me again. “I take it you’re going to see Salamander?”

I roll my eyes and shake my head at him. “It’s Stanford and yes, we’re going on a picnic after he gets out of his meeting at the bank.”

“Heard you ran into Fisher last night at Barney’s,” he says nonchalantly as he runs his hand over the top of a side table and tries to jiggle it, pretending like he’s checking it for a loose leg.

“Don’t play coy, it’s beneath you,” I tell him. “The entire town knows I ran into Fisher last night, Trip. What’s your point?”

He shrugs, folding his arms across his chest as he looks me in the eye. “Don’t really have a point, Lucy girl. I’m just wondering about all the sparks I heard were flying between the two of you, that’s all. If I were Santana, I wouldn’t take too kindly to my woman getting all hot and bothered over another man.”

“Oh, my God,” I mutter. “STANFORD. His name is Stanford and I didn’t get all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah, you were pretty hot and bothered,” Ellie agrees.

I glare at her. “You weren’t even there, how do you know?”

“Word travels fast in this small town, my friend. Also, Bobby called me right after you left the bar,” she informs me with a sneaky smile.

“I’m leaving. To go on my date with STANFORD. You two yentas enjoy gossiping like a bunch of little old ladies,” I tell them with a huff as I grab my purse from the desk and walk around them, out the door. “You can also be prepared to explain to me why Bobby has your cell phone number when last I heard, you couldn’t stand the guy.”

I watch Ellie’s smile fall and a nervous look come over her face. She’s definitely going to explain that shit later. Bobby’s been hitting on her since the day I brought her to this island and all she’s ever done is complain about how annoying he is and how she wouldn’t date him if he were the last man on earth. Unless the Apocalypse hit and I didn’t hear about it, something is going on with those two.

Leaving Trip and Ellie behind to most likely talk about me, I decide against taking one of the inn’s golf carts into town and walk the ten blocks instead. It’s a gorgeous day and I want to enjoy it. I still have a half hour before Stanford will be out of his meeting, plenty of time for a leisurely walk.

I quickly realize the error of my decision as I walk down Main Street. The sidewalks are filled with the first crowd of vacationers window-shopping since this weekend is the official start of our busy season, but they are also filled with busybody townies. They stand in doorways or sit on lawn chairs and benches in front of businesses, chatting back and forth about the happenings on the island. Clearly, what happened last night at Barney’s is the only exciting thing going on right now, even with the island overflowing with out-of-towners constantly doing stupid shit. I hear my name and Fisher’s name whispered several times as I walk by, smiling and waving at people uncomfortably. I hasten my steps until I get to the front of Fisher’s Bank and Trust right as the front doors open and Stanford walks out to meet me.

“Good timing, I just got finished,” he tells me, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful.”

He grabs my hands and holds my arms out to the side so he can look at me.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he reiterates. “But do you think those shorts are a bit…short for you?”

I look down at myself and try not to roll my eyes. They’re called shorts for a reason. There’s not much length to them, but my ass isn’t hanging out and they fit me perfectly. Stanford isn’t the type of man to ever dress casually, even for a picnic on the beach, so I just smile at him and shrug, letting his comment slide rather than get into an argument with him about my clothing choices.

He keeps hold of one of my hands as we cross the street and head over to the outdoor farmer’s market. “Listen, about last night…”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from telling him that we should never, ever talk about that again.

“I’m sorry about the way I reacted,” he continues. “I wanted to kick my own ass when I got home.”

I let out the breath I was holding, assuming he was going to call me crazy again, and let him continue.

“Really, how stupid am I? I had a beautiful, sexy woman in my arms and I pushed her away when she finally gave me the green light,” he laughs.

I don’t correct him, even though I should. I really, really should. I don’t want him to think that it’s time to move this relationship into warp speed, regardless of my behavior the previous night.

“I’m an idiot and I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel bad. I never want to make you feel bad, Luce,” he tells me softly.