“I’m sorry that happened,” she said.
He leaned toward her a little. “And?”
“And what?”
“And, why did you really not get married? And don’t say it was a waffle iron.”
Laurie had fallen for him so fast when she was sixteen. It was one of those things—a guy you’ve known since you were little suddenly shows up one day in the right pair of jeans and the right shirt and he smiles and you break out in a sweat. That was how she had described it to June: Junie, he walked into that party and I felt like I had the absolute and utter flu. June didn’t get it; she was only interested in new boys. To her, Nick was still just one of the kids they grew up with who fished off the dock and rode his bike across the narrow bridge to Kettle Bay Island and played soccer on the town fields.
“It was a lot of things,” she said. “He just wasn’t the right person.” He kept looking at her expectantly, but she just shrugged.
Finally, he spoke. “Well,” he said, “lots of fish in the sea, so to speak.”
“Who knows?” she said. “I might not be meant for company. I haven’t successfully had a real date since I broke up with him. Now it’s this thing that’s hanging over me. It’s such a pain in the ass to even throw yourself into it, you know? Well, you do know. It’s like you and the dentist. You get to a point where other things seem more pressing and suddenly it’s been a million years since you had a first date that didn’t turn out to be a horror story and you’re very, very out of practice.”
“I’ll take you out,” he said, shrugging.
She felt those words everywhere, and also that shrug, with its resolute casualness. “That would not be a first date,” she said.
“Practically. I mean, you don’t know. I’m reliably told that I’m hot now, so who knows how many other things have changed? I could be a completely different guy. And you’re leaving anyway, so if you don’t like me, you can just slink back to the other coast like it never happened.”
She was already nervous that it was not going to be possible to make it like it never happened, and not because she didn’t like him. “I guess we could do that,” she said.
“Good. There’s a new place I haven’t been to, out toward Rockland, that supposedly has great steaks. It used to be a German place and a Thai place. I think when you lived here it was Italian. Marino’s, Marini’s, red wine and white…tablecloths.” His voice faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
He had bought her a necklace for her eighteenth birthday with a panda charm that dangled from it. She was pretty sure that back in her jewelry box at home, she still had it. He’d known she wanted to study biology and work in a zoo. It hadn’t quite gone that way. “No, let’s go. Let’s go this weekend. Let’s go Saturday.”
He smiled—was that relief? “Great, good.”
Just then, June appeared in the kitchen doorway and cleared her throat. “Hello, mischievous teenagers.”
Laurie turned toward her. “Did you get Charlie all squared away?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “He just missed me.”
“Any particular reason?” Laurie asked.
June smiled. “Because I’m not there.”
Chapter Seven
Laurie’s friends in Seattle had been worried about her going all the way out to Maine and taking on Dot’s whole house by herself. A couple of them had offered to come with her for at least part of the time, including Erin, who was only a couple of months away from her own wedding. “I don’t even care, Laur,” she had said. “I can talk to caterers remotely. If a box falls on you and you don’t come back and I can’t see you in the first good bridesmaid dress ever in history, I’m going to be irate.” Erin and Laurie both wore an 18 and traded clothes now and then, and this wedding was honestly the first time a bride had ever offered Laurie a dress that she thought suited her.
But on the phone on Friday afternoon, it was becoming clear that this was not one of Erin’s happy-bride days. “You had it right,” she declared on the phone as Laurie paced around the kitchen making lunch. “People should not get married.”
“Okay, please imagine me giving you the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen,” Laurie said. “I’m not against other people getting married. I’m just against myself getting married. Do not tell Justin I told you not to get married. Do not tell your mother I told you not to get married. I absolutely think you should get married. Don’t cancel your wedding because you hate the caterer.”