“You have no idea,” Birdie murmurs. “Oh, honey. We should be celebrating that she didn’t marry the tool bag.”
That’s something we can both agree on. I barely know Silvie, but I know enough that the man who let her go is a douchebag.
“How come you didn’t go to the wedding?” I ask with a slight frown.
I shouldn’t care. Normally, I don’t. At least not past a surface level. It’s unnerving to worry about someone I barely know. Birdie is clearly someone very important to her. Not having her at the wedding must’ve been hard.
Birdie frowns and she shakes her head. “Her mother doesn’t care for me and wouldn’t have me at the wedding. I told her I would celebrate with her later. I didn’t want to go and make a fuss.”
There’s clearly history there.
“Her ex sounds like a piece of work,” I blurt out, even though it’s truly not my business. Still, I’m curious. I don’t want to be, but I am.
You’re going to get yourself in trouble with this one if you’re not careful.
“Oh, he is,” she says, scowling. “Anyone who fumbles Silvie is an idiot.”
It was more than a fumble. The woman ran from her wedding. She was barely holding it together.
“She seems sad,” I say softly.
Birdie studies me for a long beat. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the inspection, but she eventually gives me a reprieve and looks away. “I don’t know all the details, Cal, but she ran out of the wedding and came here. So, it can’t be good.” She pauses, then adds with a conspiratorial wink, “Or itis. Now she can find someone who deserves her.”
I give her a pointed look. Birdie is a meddler and loves to play matchmaker in this small beach town of ours. My curiosity and eagerness to help Silvie doesn’t play well in my favor. It makes me appear interested. Which I’m not.
Liar.
“It doesn’t seem like she wants to be fixed up,” I say to Birdie. “She seems like she wants to be left alone.”
She scoffs and waves off my words as if they’re silly.
“Well, if either of you need anything,” I say, clearing my throat and hoping to redirect this awkward conversation, “you know where to find me.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” she says with a grateful smile. “We’re gonna get my girl right.”
I’m not sure about this whole “we” thing, but I do believe if anyone can help Silvie, it’ll be Birdie.
I nod slowly. That feels right. Like, wherever she came from pushed her exactly where she needed to land.
Birdie studies me, eyes sharp and knowing. “You did good, Cal.”
“I just helped her get home,” I say with a chuckle.
“You looked after her. You’re a good man. Love you, son.”
“Love you, Birdie,” I say kissing her cheek and giving her a hug. “Sleep well.”
She smiles and reaches for the door. “Get on out of here. I’ll take it from here.”
As I step into the starlit night, something sticks with me. I can’t explain the feeling. A premonition maybe. Whatever it is, though, I can’t seem to shake it. It’s imbedded in my bones, buzzing with warning.
I walk home slower than usual on the beach, taking in the moon in the sky. The air is warm, carrying a salty breeze, and the quiet of Coconut Beach fills me with a sense of calm.
What a weird night.
For the first time in years, something stirs in me. Curiosity, interest,maybe more. I have a rule. Never take anything seriously. Never have more than fun here in Coconut Beach. Serious relationships aren’t for me. I’ve got too much on my plate.
But tonight felt different, and that’s freaking me out. I want to know Silvie. I want to know where she came from, what she ran from, and how she ended up here. What made this kind of woman run in lace and heels and land in small town Coconut Beach?
