I nod my head.
“How did she find out?” mom asks.
I huff out a laugh and shake my head before looking at them. “He told her.”
“What a little asshole,” Aunt Rosey says.
“Rose,” mom scolds.
“No, he’s an asshole. Ellie is a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve that.” Rosey looks at my mom with furrowed brows. Her lips press into a line like she’s trying to stop whatever it is she wants to say, but she continues, “How did Helen handle the news? The woman is such a worry wart over everything. Always making a fuss over her daughter.”
My brows knit when I think about the conversation. Helen was oddly—calm. She didn’t make as big a fuss like she would with anything else. “Actually, she was fine.” I look at them. “Her parents listened and said they would help her set up the guest house since she’s staying for the next three months.”
“Probably because they didn’t like the pretentious little shit,” Aunt Rosey utters.
“I’m sure you’re excited to have her back for an entire summer,” Mom says.
I avoid the comment and turn my head away to look at the other houses, trying to hide the smile that wants to betray me and come out.
“Did you guys make plans for anything?” Mom asks.
“Not yet. I was letting her settle in and spend time with her parents and August. I’m sure we will plan another hangout soon. I want to get in as much time as I can before she goes back to the city.”
Aunt Rosey eyes me. “Ifshe goes back.”
“Why wouldn’t she? She works at the best restaurant New York has to offer.” I pick at a piece of lint on my jeans, trying to distract myself from this conversation I don’t want to have.
Aunt Rosey leans toward me and over my mom before she starts to count on her fingers. “She just got cheated on. She’s burnt out from her demanding job. Her mother says she doesn’t have many friends in the city because her life revolves around said job. She’s unhappy. It’s as simple as that. Why would someone smart like Ellie go back somewhere that makes her miserable?”
My head leans back onto the chair again, and I think about the implications. Rosey makes great points, but that doesn’t determine anything. This summer can be the recharge that Ellie needs to get back to how she was when she first started there.
Aunt Rosey continues, “I think deep down she came here for another reason. Not just to get away for a summer. But to see someone that she needs in her life again. What do I know, though? I’m just an old woman who’s had a long life and has gone through my own challenges.”
“I don’t know,” I finally say. “She's built a life there. She’s lived there for ten years. She works at a highly sought-after restaurant that attracts visitors from around the world. Why would she walk away from that?”
I look out toward the road, thinking. Thinking about how I can have that second chance with her, but will I allow myself to have that? Can I give her what she wants? Would I be enough? Will she up and leave again because of something amazing that could happen again? My thoughts start to spiral, and I go into that dark place that is hard to get out of. She ran away from a messed-up situation. I can’t let her walk into another one. I have my own baggage that I keep ignoring, hoping that it will just go away. I want what’s best for Ellie, even if it’s not me.
I still have some things in my own life to fix. I don’t want to keep thinking about if I’m good enough. Good enough for Ellie, for my business, and as a son. I don’t want to worry that I’ll be left behind again.
I will only allow myself to have Ellie when I decide to finally talk to my dad and close that chapter of my life. This could be my second shot at having her and not letting her get away this time.
twelve
ELLIE
“CanI get the campfire sundae? All the fixings.” Addie asks while she stands in front of the small window where a teenager is taking her order.
I dip a spoonful in my vanilla ice cream, scooping up fresh strawberries, hot fudge, and caramel sauce. I let out a deep, satisfying breath. The thickness of the vanilla ice cream mixed with everything else melts perfectly on my tongue.
Riley licks her chocolate and vanilla ice cream, the colors swirling together in the large waffle cone that wraps around it.
The bright blue skies and wisps of clouds cover the town. The sun is shining down on everyone, embracing them. The summers in Dove Point are out of a fairytale. We have our rainy days, but most of the time, it is always sunny and warm.
Living in New York for as long as I have, I’ve developed thicker skin—mostly thanks to the brutal winters. When I first saw snow during my first winter there, I was giddy, like a little kid. The way it blanketed the streets, turning everything into a winter wonderland—it felt magical.
But as the years went on, that magic faded fast. The snow changed from pure white to black and gray. The thick fluffiness turns into mush. I cursed the weather gods every time I slipped on a patch of ice or trudged through piles of slush.
I was never meant for that kind of weather. It’s just not in my bones.
