Page 92 of The Lies I've Told
A comforting hand reached up to cup my face. “I’m sorry, Aiden. Forgive my insensitivity. Of course you’d be nervous. But don’t worry; it’s going to be great. The food supply will never end; Mom and Molly will make sure of that. Neither will the booze for that matter, thanks to Billy,” she said, giving a nod in the direction of the familiar restaurant owner, who was busy tapping a keg outside. “And I’ll be here to kiss you when the fireworks begin.”
“You promise?”
She leaned in, her smile turning to a series of tiny kisses against my lips. “Yes.”
“Then, that’s all the motivation I need. Let’s go before we make your family vomit,” I said, raising an eyebrow toward the patio.
She turned to see several members of her family desperately trying to avoid her gaze.
“Nosy little jerks,” she muttered, making me laugh. “You know we could always spend the evening indoors.”
“I don’t think so,” I countered. “Besides, this is my adopted homeland. I must pay my respects and wish it a happy birthday like a true American.”
“With beer and copious amounts of explosives?” She laughed, grabbing my arm as we headed for the patio.
“Exactly.”
The moment we walked out into the blazing heat, I took a look around and was immediately amazed by the sheer number of people.
“It looks like the whole town is here,” I said to Millie.
“Damn near close,” she replied, waving to several people.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lovell!” Millie exclaimed, leaving my side to greet an elderly couple. She wrapped her arms around them with a warm familiarity before turning to me. “This is Aiden,” she said, pulling me into the small circle.
“Oh, we’ve already heard so much about you,” Mr. Lovell said, a genuine smile on his worn face.
That surprised me a bit. Surely, they were just trying to keep me part of the conversation, so I didn’t feel left out.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lovell have been coming to the inn since I was a kid,” Millie informed me.
“Oh, before that, I’d wager,” Mrs. Lovell said.
“But you don’t usually come in the middle of the summer, do you?”
Mr. Lovell, a laid-back sort of fellow dressed in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, shook his head. “No, not since the kids were young anyway. We try to avoid the rush and come in the late spring or later in the summer, but when we heard your parents were coming out of retirement?” He lifted his arms and shrugged. “Well, we couldn’t pass that up.”
“Plus, you get to see the newest addition to the McIntyre and Jameson clans,” Millie said, motioning to her sister, who was gently rocking her newborn to sleep inside.
“Yes,” Mrs. Lovell said, following Millie’s lead. “She’s beautiful. We just became grandparents for the ninth time last month. It never gets old.”
We continued to make small talk for a few more minutes. Mr. Lovell, like most, took an interest in my work.
“It’s a shame about the memorial,” he said. “That sort of thing never happens in Ocracoke. Do the police have any leads?”
Millie shook her head, fiddling with her necklace as she spoke, “No. Macon Greene, one of the police officers in town, said the cameras down there were all pointed toward the ferry and not the memorial—something they’re working on rectifying. But it’s just awful; Aiden’s sculpture was breathtaking.”
The Lovells agreed.
“We were here shortly after the dedication last year. The way you captured grief.” He paused. “You must have lost someone very close to you.”
My chin lifted as I tried not to avert my gaze. “Haven’t we all?” I said.
He patted me on the shoulder before they excused themselves to refill their drinks. “We look forward to seeing the new one on our next trip in the spring, son.”
I simply nodded as I watched them walk away.
“Do you think it will be ready by then?” Millie asked.
