Caleb studies me for a moment. “You think you could charm the lighthouse like that?”
“Probably,” I say. “If we can pull off this whole ward thing, I’ll look into it.”
“Cool,” he says, just accepting that slice of weird like he has everything else. With a steadiness, amusement, and generosity that makes my heart ache with want.
Then we carry the food back into the living room and the conversation with my sisters pulls us both back in.
Twenty-Two
By the time the dust settles over Silverlight Shore, I’m completely exhausted.
All the drama from last night, the lack of sleep, the discoveries this afternoon, and the hard labor of cleaning up flood debris from the stores nearest the beach have taken their toll on me.
That doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it, though.
I lean against the back of Caleb’s old truck and survey our handiwork.
The cobblestones are cleared. Driftwood, seaweed, and all the random debris that washed up overnight has been hauled away. The shattered storefront windows have been boarded up with plywood until the glazier can come reset the glass.
I helped several shop owners contact their insurance companies and start the claims process.
And everyone seemed genuinely happy to see us show up with helping hands — and with Caleb’s truck to haul away trash.
Not to mention the bread Rose and Posey baked last night.
Not that anyone in town is worried about Owen’s bakery losing business. His place is still the superior bakery andabsolutely not in jeopardy of Romantic sister’s yeast based rivalry.
But fresh bread is fresh bread.
Even weirdly made cast iron bread.
A few people even mentioned that it reminded them of Grandma’s baking during the big storm over twenty years ago.
My sisters and I did our best to look surprised and gratified by that new information.
“Hey,” Caleb says.
Gunner trots up the sidewalk toward us, a yellow tennis ball in his mouth like someone’s been playing with him.
“The good kind of tired?” Caleb asks.
“Yeah, good tired,” I agree.
I rest my cheek on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You want to head home to your sisters tonight?” he asks.
The question is loaded with meaning.
I pause and really think about it.
I should want to hang out with my sisters. I haven’t seen Hazel in months, and the four of us haven’t been together like this in a long time.
But I also haven’t seen Caleb in years.
And right now, I’d rather be with him.
“I should go home and help my sisters,” I say.
