CHAPTER FIVE
Ben
I pulled the handle on the campground office door. Bells jingled as it closed behind me. On the other side of a laminate desk sat a woman with short gray hair. This is not how I had pictured someone named Flora. She was missing bangle bracelets, fluffy curls, and sweet perfume.
“Good morning.” I grinned.
“Ahh, good morning. You must be—” Her lips twisted around as if she was trying to recall my name.
I extended my hand. “Jake. I’m Jake.”
I had settled on a cover story while I got dressed. I was going to be Jake, the writer. It was a little Hemingway-esque, but I knew it was the kind of character I could easily play for as long as I was on the island.
“Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Flora. My husband said he put you up in Silver Sand Dollar.”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s great.” I winced, knowing my Texan enunciation of ma’am had slipped out. I was rusty with the accent work.
“I’m kinda partial to the Sand Dollar, but Pearl of the Oyster is a close second in my heart. I really wanted to go with a picnic theme. Picnic at the beach.” Her hands stretched across the air in front of her. “Carl told me to have at it. He’s not much for decorating.” She giggled.
“Yep. I got the picnic part with the red checks. Very nice.”
Flora pulled a folder from the desk drawer and licked her thumb as she flipped through a few pages. “Ok, if you could fill out your name, email address, and length of stay right here.” She pointed at the open lines and twirled the folder around for me. “How many nights? We charge in advance.”
I reached for the pen she had offered. Earlier this morning I had told Carl I would stay all month, but it didn’t feel right. “I’d like to take the Sand Dollar for the entire summer.”
Flora jumped in her seat. “All summer? My, that’s a surprise.”
I kept my focus on the three lines I had to fill in.
“Did Carl tell you the nightly rate for the campers?” She had retrieved a calculator from the same desk drawer, and she began counting the rest of the summer days on the calendar out loud.
“No, but I have cash. It’s not a problem.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. I would need to go into town and buy something other than boots.
The campground hostess whistled. I got the impression she wasn’t used to long-term camper residents. She scribbled a few numbers, and then punched them into the calculator.
“All right. If you stay until the end of August, that’s ninety-two days at sixty-five dollars a night.” She paused to see if I was going to interrupt her. “With tax and water fees, that comes to sixty-five hundred dollars.”
I handed her the pen. “Ok. I need to run back to the Sand Dollar, but I’ll bring the cash in a few minutes.”
Flora looked at me suspiciously. That was the last look I wanted to see.
“Promise. I’ll be right back.” I smiled my best movie star grin and darted out of the office door.
I jogged the trail to the camper, tugged twice on the handle, and reached for my duffle bug. Everything I had was in that bag, along with several wads of cash. I formed two stacks with the bills until I had all sixty-five hundred dollars ready to hand to Flora. I shoved the money in my front pockets and slammed the door behind me.
The salt air hit me the same time my phone started ringing. I clenched my jaw and fist as I pulled it from my back pocket. Rebecca. I pressed decline and tucked the phone in my jeans.
Rebecca wasn’t going to give up until she talked to me. One of the things I had liked about her from the beginning was her persistence, but right now, it was the one thing that was pissing me off. Funny how cute, endearing things could suddenly turn into the ones that were the most aggravating. I smacked a mosquito against my neck as I trudged back to the campground office.
***
I pulled into an open space in front of Davis General Store. Flora had told me I could find everything I needed from beer to flashlights at the island’s largest store.
I didn’t recognize the song playing on the local station, but I liked the words. Something about summertime, sand, and dancing. It wasn’t anything like Texas music, but the lyrics were catchy. I adjusted the volume on the radio. I wanted to play it loud since I had the top of the Jeep rolled down, but part of staying incognito was not drawing unnecessary attention.
My boots hit the gravel parking lot, and I took the steps into the store two at a time. On the other side of this door was a twelve-pack with my name on it. Who cared if it was only ten in the morning? It was time to get this indefinite vacation started.
“Welcome to Davis,” a guy wearing an apron called across the store. He was stocking the freezer with beer.
I walked in his direction. “Thank you. That’s just what I was looking for.”
“Sure, man.” He handed me a case of beer. “Chelsea should be back at the register now. She can ring you up—unless there’s something else you’re shopping for today.”
Something about the store reminded me of my hometown in Texas. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what seemed so familiar. I was about as far away from Shiner, Texas, as I could get.
“Actually, I have some more shopping to do.” I knew my list was longer than just a case of beer.
“How about I take that for you, and you can have a look around?” The clerk gripped the sides of the cardboard carton and headed toward the front of the story. “Holler if you need anything.” I couldn’t help but notice how friendly the guy was.
“Thanks.” I began browsing the outer perimeter of the store. There wasn’t much in the duffle bag I had left in the camper. A few T-shirts, another pair of jeans, my running shoes, and enough boxer briefs to make it through the week. I didn’t need much.
I eyed the wall of board shorts. Now that I was living at the beach for the summer, I would need a pair. Unless there was a red carpet event and Lana Pine insisted I participate in the black tie selection, I had no interest in clothes. T-shirts and jeans fit every occasion. It felt strange to stand in front of the wall display of bathing suits. I reached for pair. They were simple. I needed simple.
Behind the swimwear was a rack of suntan lotion—something else I hadn’t thought to throw in my bag.
On the other side of the dressing room was a stand stacked with flip-flops. Exactly what I needed to fit in on the island. Beachgoers didn’t wear boots, especially not fifteen-hundred-dollar designer boots. I snatched a pair.
I strolled back to the other side of the store where the grocery aisles were. Yesterday I had avoided junk food. Tom, my personal trainer for the past two years, would punch me if he saw me eyeing the row of cookies and chips. The hell with Tom. He wasn’t here to force raw eggs and protein shakes down my throat. I tossed two bags of corn chips under my arm.
Trying to balance everything, I dumped it all on the counter. I looked up in time to hear an auburn-haired girl with the prettiest frown I had ever seen, curse under her breath. One of the bottles of lotion rolled off the pile and bumped against her hand, jarring the pen she was using.
I thought I heard her groan. She scooped up the note and tucked it into the front pocket of her apron.
“Is this all?” She sounded annoyed.
“Sorry about that.”
I wrapped my arms around the stash and tried to bring it back together in the center of the counter. As soon as I let go, a bottle of hot sauce toppled to the side and headed for the floor. I reached out and snagged the glass container before shattered on the wood.
“Wow. That was quick.” The girl had perched on her tiptoes to witness the great save.
I placed the jar upright next to the register. “Catlike reflexes.”
“Hmm.”
She started scanning tags before placing the items in paper bags.
I couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t impressed. I rubbed my jaw. It must be the stubble. I hadn’t shaved in several days. All part of the new incognito persona, but still girls usually flirted with me. I would be hard pressed to recount a time when a girl had batted her eyelashes, or asked me out and didn’t know exactly who I was.
“So what was that you were working on?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
For the first time, she paused and looked at me. “Was there anything else I can get you, sir?”
Puzzled, I fished in my jeans pocket for my wallet. “No. Thank you.”
She pointed at the screen. “That will be two hundred and thirty dollars and twenty-four cents.”
She tossed her hair behind her shoulder. I liked the color. It was pretty. She was pretty, in a natural way. It was nice to look at someone who hadn’t spent a gazillion dollars to have their face reorganized.
I counted out the bills and handed them to her before gathering the bags in my arms.
“Thank you for stopping by Davis.” She said it as if she was on autopilot.
“Thank you.” I smiled and walked out on the porch.
I loaded my purchases in the back of the Jeep. Damn it. The beer. I jogged back up the stairs and into the store.
The girl had her back turned and was focused on the paper she had spread out on the counter.
“So, you are writing something.” I pretended to peek over her shoulder.
“Hey, that’s private.” She shoved the paper back into her apron pocket.
“Dar—” I bit my tongue. I couldn’t say darlin’ here or anywhere. Too Texan. “I left my beer. The guy in the back brought it up for me, and I forgot it.”
“Oh, Derek didn’t mention it.” She turned around, searching the space along the counter for the beer. “Here it is.”
“Really, I’m sorry if I pried.”
I watched as she scanned the box. I hadn’t noticed the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. They were cute.
“I should have minded my own business.” I handed her another stack of bills and lifted the beer to my shoulder.
A smile spread across her face, and I saw a glimmer of blue in her eyes. A shade of blue I had seen in the sky over the ocean.
She shrugged. “It’s ok. Have a good day.”
I walked toward the door and pivoted on my heel to ask her something, anything, but she had already pulled the paper from her pocket again and forgotten I was ever there.
I smiled. It had been awhile—a very long while—but this was what it felt like when nobody knew who you were.