Page 42 of Songs of Summer

Good Day

Maggie

It was agood day, and though she still hadn’t decided to jump into the Silver family pool with both feet, at least she had dipped her toe in without getting pinched by a crab.

Matt accompanied her back to the “Inn” after the beach to charge her phone and pick up some more clothes. Despite her initial ambivalence, she had thrown a few things in her bag suitable for a wedding. Just in case.

When they were a safe distance from the house, he praised her for being so quick on her feet.

“Man, you were good with the comebacks on the beach. ‘I sat behind you on the ferry.’ If you ever need to testify against a mobster, you’d rock witness protection.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself—that Austin Record Show bit was perfect. Have you ever been?”

“No, but I’m dying to.”

“We can go next year,” Maggie laughed.

“Yes, if we’re still dating.”

Their laughter intensified.

Climbing up the narrow staircase to her room at the Inn,Maggie felt relieved to know she didn’t have to sleep there anymore.

“What is that putrid smell?” Matt asked, affirming that she wasn’t being a snob regarding her accommodations.

“I don’t want to know—it can’t be good.”

In the room, Matt did a 360, checking it out. He had never been there, apparently, and from the look on his face, Maggie guessed this would be his first and last visit.

“This may be the smallest hotel room I’ve ever seen,” he noted, before sitting hesitantly on the bed as if it would give him cooties.

Maggie plugged in her phone and waited for it to spring back to life so that she could text Jason. She probably should have called instead of texting but felt weird doing so in a hotel room with a strange guy sitting on her bed. Well, not strange really. She gave him the once-over. It was worse than that. There was a cute guy sitting on her bed.

She wrote a whole paragraph.

Hi. Hung out with my birth mother on the beach today, incognito. She’s not as bad as I previously reported—but I’m still unsure. This is not a very Midwestern family, to say the least. The good news is I got myself invited to the wedding and other festivities, so I should be much surer about things by Sunday! Love you and miss you!

Matt’s phone vibrated and he pulled it from his back pocket. Maggie couldn’t help but listen to the one-sidedconversation—a series of drab “Uh-huhs” and “OKs,” with one interesting “Got it. Four o’clock, William Greenberg.”

When he hung up, Maggie was standing in front of him, her head tilted like a curious puppy’s.

“It was Jake. My mom needs me to pick up the wedding cake in the city tomorrow; apparently there was a big mix-up with delivery, and she’s flipping out.”

“I’ve never been to New York City!” Maggie blurted out, then blushed, realizing she wasn’t invited.

“Wait, really?”

“Really. I’m just a small-town girl,” she sang.

They both laughed, remembering the bartender’s reaction to that statement the night before.

“Wanna come with?”

She welcomed a break from lying. It was exhausting.

“Yes!”

“I can give you an abridged tour—we can make a day of it.”

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