Page 13 of Summer with the Single Dad

Grabbing a half dozen fabric shopping bags from the back of his truck, he headed off down the road, sticking to the narrow shoulder until he ducked through the gate into the big compound that served as “downtown.” There were all kinds of little kiosks, shipping containers converted to taco stands and smoothie bars, and a few little huts peddling knickknacks, kombucha, hemp clothing, and anything else you could think of. There wasn’t much you couldn’t get on the island. And it was probably healthier and more ethically sourced than the shit you’d buy in the city. It’d also be twice as expensive though.

Nodding at nearly a dozen people he recognized, Bennett made his way up the stairs to the grocery store. The Town Center Grocery Store itself was like Frankenstein’s monster, only a building and not a person. Over the years, the owners had built on more and more additions so they could offer more to their patrons. It was two floors and like a labyrinth inside. Clothing, meat, tackle, camping equipment, makeup, medicine, produce, canned goods, sporting goods, plants, and more. If you wanted it, chances are you could find it in the deep recesses of the store.

Fortunately, Bennett didn’t need anything besides food. So he stuck to the top floor and pushed his cart through the aisles.

He was off in a dreamworld and staring at his shopping list when someone’s cart crashed into his. Or he crashed into theirs. He wasn’t sure.

“Oh shit! Sorry,” he said, backing up and shaking the fog from his brain. He expected to see another local and they could both laugh it off, but it was no local.

A pretty pink filled Justine’s cheeks, highlighting the freckles. She really was stunning. If he were to guess, she was probably of at least half Asian ethnicity and half white, though he could be wrong. He also wasn’t sure what area of Asia and knew it wasn’t politically correct to ask.

“No, I’m sorry,” she blurted out, clearly flustered. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m trying to read the signs overhead to figure out which aisle to go to and I … I’m sorry.”

“No harm, no foul,” he replied with a smile. “So, you’re out exploring then?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I, uh … I forgot a few things. Like seasonings for cooking, earplugs, sunscreen, that kind of thing.” Her smile was brittle and forced, and her eyes darted around as if looking for any kind of distraction to pull her from interacting with him any longer.

“Well, seasonings are in aisle five. Sunscreen and earplugs will be downstairs with the health and beauty stuff. You’ll have to take the elevator if you want to bring down your cart. Otherwise, you can leave it in the cart park at the top of the stairs.” He pointed to where several patrons had “parked” their carts so they could run downstairs to pick up a few things.

“Oh! Um, thanks.” The color in her cheeks disappeared a little, and she seemed less inclined to flee. Her gaze slid down to the shopping list in her hand. “And if I were a beach towel? Where would I be?”

That made him smile. “You’d also be downstairs with the sporting goods.”

“Right. That makes sense. Thank you.”

She backed up a bit more to reverse out of the aisle, but the need to keep talking to her—for reasons Bennett refused to acknowledge—made him ask, “Did you eat dinner at the pub last night?”

She halted again. “I … I did, yeah. It was good. I got the Mediterranean Burger.”

“I hope you requested no tomatoes?”

Now, her smile was genuine. “I did, yeah. And I had the Beer-Soaked Garlic Fries and the Raspberry Ganache Torte. It was all wonderful.”

“Wyatt’s not an idiot in the kitchen. I’ll give him that.”

Silence fell between them, and her lips dipped into a small frown.

Was he flirting? He hadn’t flirted in so long he wasn’t even sure if he was anymore, or if he was doing it right. Or if he wanted to. All he knew was that he didn’t want her to leave yet. He wanted to keep talking to her. To find out what prompted her spur-of-the-moment reservation for seven weeks. He also wanted to know what she did for work that would allow her to take so much time. He wanted to know everything about her. But most of all, why she seemed so hell-bent on not smiling? Because when she did smile it brightened up the whole fucking world.

“Hopefully, the pub noise and music weren’t too loud last night?”

She shook her head. “I was fine. But I am going to get earplugs just to … you know, tune it all out. I typically go to bed early. So …”

“Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it’s loud, but tonight won’t be as wild. Next weekend, our live music starts again on Friday and Saturday nights, with different touring bands. So earplugs and maybe even a white noise machine might not be a bad idea. I have white noise machines in my office for cabin guests to borrow. Come find me back at the property later today and I’ll grab one for you.”

“Oh … um. Thank you. I’m not sure if I’ll need one, but thank you.”

Dear god, he was the worst flirter in the world. This wasn’t even flirting, this was torture by painful conversation. He was slowly killing this poor woman to death with his mundane colloquy. Clearing his throat and hating the heat in his cheeks and fluttering in his belly, he flashed her a smile. “Well, I won’t keep you from your shopping. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

That fake, grim smile came back for just a half-second. Then she nodded and awkwardly reversed to the front of the aisle and disappeared while Bennett mentally flagellated himself for ten minutes until he finished his shopping and got in line for the checkout.

Jordana, a pretty redheaded woman probably in her mid-thirties, was at the checkout like she usually was. But the line was getting pretty long.

One of the downsides to living on an island founded by draft dodgers and hippies was that those of them still alive moved on the slower side, and getting behind one of them at the checkout could take forever.

“I’m open over here,” came a friendly, familiar voice.

Bennett smiled at one of the store owner’s sons, Wallace Franks, who now ran the place for his aging parents. He wheeled his cart over to Wallace’s checkout, but was T-boned by another cart.

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