Page 24 of Seas the Dating Coach

By this point, she’ll be awake from her afternoon nap. After closing shop at three, she and Sandy clean and prepare for the next day, then Brynn usually passes out for an hour or two. Because Brynn keeps me caffeinated and provides me with free pastries—something I indulge in twice daily—I always make dinner.

Some nights, we eat dinner, and then she runs errands, helping out various community members. I provide the food for whoever in Wilks Beach needs a meal, and Brynn delivers it. Whenever people aren’t having babies, breaking limbs, or coming home from unexpected hospital stints, we relax together in the evenings. And on Saturday nights, we watch movies,alternating between my favorite—period pieces—and Brynn’s favorite—action flicks.

“Hmmmmmrrrrffff.”

The animalistic grumble sounds from the couch, and I find a Brynn-shaped lump huddling beneath the gray comforter from her bed. The muted TV on a home shopping channel touts festive summer yard decorations for the low, low price of $12.99. Order now, folks!

“There’s no way we can pass up a yard flamingo with a gnome riding on its back.” I sit and pull Brynn’s socked feet into my lap, massaging her toes. “It’s traffic-stopping. That’s how cute it is.”

Pleased, incoherent muttering comes from the other end of the couch as I continue toward her arches. “Oooh! Now there’s a gnome floating on a flamingo raft, holding a pineapple cocktail.” I laugh. “Where do they come up with these things?”

When I press my thumbs firmly against her heels, where she’s the sorest from being on her feet all day, Brynn flings down the comforter covering her head and gives me a sleepy smile. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”

“Want to buy your favorite person a whimsical tchotchke?”

She blinks at the screen. “That’s pretty cute, but we don’t have a yard.”

“We could put it on the receiving counter at the shop.” Though I have my own shop now, we always referred to Seabreeze Beans as ‘the shop.’ “Give it a fanciful name like Brewster Beanbottom or Java Jingleheimer.”

Brynn considers this a moment, staring at the slowly revolving figurine. “It’d be better if it had a coffee mug in its hand.”

“Yeah,” I concede, allowing my gaze to drift out the window facing the singular road that runs the length of Wilks Beach.

Driving Sand Bend Road into the island, you have two options. Go straight past the water tower, our businesses, and Dotty’s, and end up at the small parking lot behind the library. Or turnright and drive for two miles, passing the fire station, gym, a handful of bay-facing homes, and Bayside Table before dead-ending at the larger parking lot for the island’s park and public beach access. Along the way, short single-lane roads jut toward the ocean, lined with single family homes. The last offshoot accommodates the condo complex with a residents-only parking garage.

I can only see the corner of the fire station and the flagpole from here, but not far beyond lies Finn’s rental. A surge of excitement blazes down my forearms, and I pat Brynn’s feet.

“I have news.”

“You finally saw a mermaid on today’s swim?”

I chuckle, thinking about the childhood dream I often shared with Brynn. “Nope.”

“We won the lottery?”

My head shakes. “We’d have to play the lottery to win it.”

“Your ocean wish came true.”

When I pause, Brynn shoots upright, yanking her feet from my grip and toppling the blanket on the floor. The action startles Pepper, who’d been dozing on the top pedestal of her cat tower. She lets out an annoyed meow, rolling away from us.

“No.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister this shocked. I witnessed something similar when Noah, her ex-boyfriend, betrayed her, but the wide-eyed, gape-mouth stare she’s giving me doesn’t contain a smidgen of hurt.

I bite my bottom lip and nod.

My usually articulate sister stammers for a few seconds, finally eeking out, “How? When?... How?”

“I was at the library. Finn and I were talking—”

“The mainlander? I thought I told you to stay away from him?”

My shoulders deflate slightly, some of my previous effervescence dissipating. I know Brynn is just trying to protectme, but sometimes her need to help, to jump into action, ends up steamrolling me.

A memory from our first year living in this apartment with Aunt Tammy surges forward. Our aunt asked about our school day, and Brynn answered for me. By that point, I’d been working with a school counselor with the hopes that talking about our parents’ car crash would help with my self-expression. Though I’d always been more shy than Brynn, I’d barely murmured a word to anyone after their unexpected loss. That night, I’d wanted to talk about the drawing I’d done in counseling while Brynn had been at PE, but I never got the chance.

“Finn happened to be there when Atticus came by. Atticus and I chatted for a bit and exchanged numbers.”

The lie about Finn makes me uneasy, but based on her reaction, I don’t feel that I can tell Brynn the truth. I’d hoped to explain this whole dating-coach situation, to tell her that she’s wrong about Finn. He’s helped me more in the last week than anyone in this town ever has. Though, when I think about it…that’s not really a fair statement. Cade and Summer—two incredibly sweet and outgoing locals—both tried, on separate occasions, to help me capture Atticus’s attention. It just never worked out.

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