Page 31 of Rebel Bride
We stopped at Novel Grounds, a coffee shop just off Water Street, the main drag in Saugatuck.
“Well, if it isn’t Hatch Kershaw!”
I smiled at Gemma, the owner. “Hey, Gem, how’s business?”
“Not bad. Had a good Fourth and now we’re in full swing.” It was early enough in the day to be a little quieter, for which I was grateful. “How’s your dad? And the rest of the family? Are they coming out soon?”
“Next month, maybe? Mom’s finishing up some work and Dad’s getting the back deck ready at the place in Riverbrook.”
“And has he decided what he’s gonna do?”
“He’s still mulling it over.” I didn’t really want to get into the weeds of my dad’s storied career. “So, I’d love an Americano and …” I turned to Summer, who had pulled the bill of the Motors cap down further.
“Hot tea?” she mumbled as if unsure this coffee shop in the sticks would have such a thing.
“We can do that,” Gemma said. “English Breakfast, Earl Grey, or Jasmine?”
“Oh, English Breakfast, please. With milk on the side.” She sounded so pleased, like this one little thing could improve her day a hundredfold.
Like a heathen, she tried to offer cash, but I insisted on paying. She didn’t order a pastry, so I got two bagels—growing boy and all that—and cream cheese.
Gem winked. “Sit down. I’ll bring it over tout de suite.”
We took a seat in the back, and Summer threw a furtive glance over her shoulder.
“Do you think she knows who I am?”
“Maybe. People are pretty in tune with the team because of my family’s connection to this town. At the same time, you don’t really look like any of your pictures online.”
“I don’t?”
“The disguise is working.”
She tugged again at the cap brim. “I grabbed this in the dark. Didn’t really think it through.”
“That hat belongs to the enemy.”
“Uh, it was in your great-grandmother’s closet.”
I nodded. “She’s from here so she has allegiance to the local team. Plus, Conor’s starting there in the fall, which will likely muddle our loyalties further. You’re probably okay.”
“Except for the fact I’m wearing Motors merch.” She did a fake spit take that made me chuckle. “So you can laugh.”
“Of course I can. Until now, you’ve never said anything to amuse me.”
“Hmm. So we’ve seen each other off and on for five years?—”
“Not that long.”
She pointed, rather dramatically, I thought. “Yes, it is! We met at a Rebels holiday party almost five years ago. You’ve barely spoken to me since.”
Five years. I knew it but I didn’t want to acknowledge it, or acknowledge that she had never been far from my thoughts all this time.
“I hardly saw you over the years. Only when I started with the Rebels last season did we start running into each other regularly.”
“And you either ignored me or looked at me like I was something on the bottom of your skate.”
“Like ice, you mean?” This was my cue to explain myself, but I’d rather undergo Lasik surgery with a rusty skate blade than do that. Thankfully, Gem appeared with the toasted bagels and beverages.
