Page 52 of The House on Firefly Beach
“Nonsense. I’ve got a bunch of food left.” He stood up walked over to the fridge, like he owned the place, pulling out a plate of burgers covered in plastic wrap.
Sydney wrestled with the two sides of her mind. Part of her wanted to sit down with Nate, asking him about what Mary Alice had said, and the other half wanted to get him out of their kitchen and on his merry way.
“I really just want a sandwich,” she said, her fear of letting him back into their lives winning out.
“Okay, I’ll make you a sandwich.” He slid the burgers back into the refrigerator.
“I don’t want you to make me a sandwich,” she stated, taking the loaf of bread from the pantry and setting it on the counter, her frustration with herself getting the best of her. She couldn’t deny the fizzle of happiness that had shot through her when she saw him at the table tonight, and she should be stronger than that. “I’ve got it,” she said, snatching the pack of cheese that he’d just gotten out of the refrigerator drawer.
He held up his hands in playful surrender. “I come in peace.” When she didn’t return his lighthearted banter, he added, “I have no other motive than to help Robby with his homework.Hecalledme, remember?”
Sydney tried to unscrew the lid on the mayo to give her fingers an outlet for the nervous energy pulsing through her, but she struggled to get it open. “And you just decided to make an entire dinner for the family while you were here.” She twisted with all her might, the whole situation heating her face.
“Your mom bought hamburger patties at the grocery store earlier and Uncle Hank needed help starting the grill to cook them. She asked if I’d help him.” He eyed her struggle with the mayo and held out his hand, but she kept the jar pinned against her as she continued to twist unsuccessfully. Finally, her shoulders relaxed in concession.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you on the boat,” Nate said. “I was aggravated with myself; it wasn’t directed at you.” He gently took the jar from Sydney and opened the lid, handing it back to her. “Look, I know it’s been a very long time… I’ve been coming on pretty strong since I’ve been back… You’ve moved on, and rightfully so.”
He stopped talking as if he were giving her one more chance to deny it, to tell him he was the one, and she’d been waiting for him to show up, but she wasn’t about to say a thing. She didn’t trust herself to open her mouth. She would inevitably follow her heart, and that hadn’t worked very well for her in the past. She turned back to her sandwich, twirling the knife around in the jar of mayonnaise.
“I’d like to wipe the slate clean.”
Sydney looked up at him, honesty swimming around in those blue eyes of his, making her curious. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I can’t change the past,” he said, looking into her eyes. “And I can’t predict the future. But I havethismoment in unspoiled clarity, and I don’t want to mess it up. It’s perfect exactly the way it is, so why don’t we justbefor a little while? No expectations, no consequences.”
“That sounds like something Aunt Clara would say… And the start of a song idea,” she said, thawing toward him.
He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe it will be. Hurry up with that sandwich and you can help me write it.” He grinned. In that one look, the Nathan Carr persona was completely gone, as if Firefly Beach had worn it off him the way the tide smoothes a seashell. His jagged edges were softer now.
“I can’t,” she said. “I’d like to spend some quality time with Robby—I haven’t seen him all day. Then I have work to do.”
His face lit up. “Howisthe new job going?”
She dared not tell him that she’d gotten interest fromNY Pulse. “It’s going great,” she said. Why had she just done that? She knew why. She didn’t want Nate to know that she might blow her first ever chance at writing full-time professionally.
Nate was staring at her as if he were assessing something.
“What?” she asked, turning back to the sandwich to avoid eye contact. He could see through her; he always could. She laid a piece of cheese and a few cold cuts onto the bread and set the sandwich on a plate, carrying it over to the table.
Nate plopped down beside Sydney, not taking his eyes off her. “Is the job not what you thought?” he asked, a clear attempt to decipher her inner turmoil. “I always pictured you writing about specific topics of interest…”
Sydney buried her insecurity deeper and lifted her chin. “What are you talking about? I said it’s going great.”
“Yes, but you’re blinking more than usual, and that means that you are completely lying…” he said with a grin.
He was clearly making light of the situation but hitting a nerve instead. He’d tapped right into her self-doubt. What if she failed at this? She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, fighting the tears as they surfaced.
“Oh, Syd,” Nate said, his face sobering, wrapping his protective arms around her like he used to when she was upset. “It’s okay,” he soothed.
She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, drawing her back in time. A wave of calm engulfed her for an instant, but then she thought about the magazine and wondered if she was completely out of her league.
“Tell me,” he urged her softly.
Nate was the only person she’d ever been able to be vulnerable with, the only one whom she’d open up to. Perhaps it was the old feeling that came back being in his arms or she was finally having some sort of breakdown, but she blurted, “I was given the opportunity to write a few pieces to see if I’d be a good fit for a magazine in New York.” Tears surfaced unexpectedly as the fear became all too real.
Nate lifted her chin and wiped her tear, smiling down at her. “Thisis the girl I remember,” he said fondly.
Confused, she waited for more explanation.
