Page 93 of Summer Longing
She had run into Tito just one time since the night she’d canceled their dinner. Lidia had invited her over for coffee, and Tito had stopped by, as Ruth had expected he might. She didn’t know if he just happened to be there at the same time or if Lidia was playing matchmaker, but either way, their small talk had been awkward. Tito finally said, on his way out the door, “Anytime you want to get back out on the water, just let me know.”
Tonight, he did not mention the boat or any scenario of getting together. They exchanged pleasantries and chatted amiably enough about the weather, the parade, and Marco’s seaweed farming until Ruth, emboldened by her second or third glass of sangria, finally said, “I owe you an apology.”
He turned to face the water. “Well, I don’t see that at all.”
“That day on the boat, you told me how you never married because the sea life is a selfish life. You were really smart to recognize that, to see your own limitations. Now you’re in a position to meet someone without having a lot of emotional baggage. But unfortunately, that’s not the case for me.”
“Most people have baggage, Ruth. It’s not fatal.”
“I know. But in my case, I’m realizing I have to deal with some of it before I can move forward. I’ve always been so busy; it was easy to just pack it all away. But now, like you said, life slows down. And now I have to reckon with it. As much as I enjoyed spending time with you, and as much as my impulse was to do more of that, I can’t do that in a way that would be fair to you. Does that make any sense?”
“It does,” he said. “I don’t like hearing it, but it does.”
She held out her hand. “Friends?” she said.
Above the table, fireflies blinked their bioluminescence, a reminder that darkness was setting in and the fireworks would begin soon.
Bianca stood up and announced, “I’m heading to the pier to watch the fireworks.”
“We’re going to watch them from here, Bianca,” Tito said.
“It’s a better view from the pier.”
“It’s exactly the same,” Lidia said from across the table.
“Well, to each his own,” Bianca said. Then, to Ben, “Care to join me?”
To Ruth’s horror, Ben stood up. “Sure, why not?”
Why not?Ruth could think of half a dozen reasons why not, starting with the fact that his family was at the party. Why would he leave with astranger?But then she noticed Olivia was no longer at the table. And clearly, Ben did not share her nostalgia for what the night represented. She realized how foolish it would have been to admit her feelings and what a mistake it had been to convince him to stay longer.
Hand shaking, she reached for her wineglass as Clifford Henry slid into Bianca’s now-vacant chair.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night,” he said. “I have some good news.”
Ruth just nodded, her eyes cast down as she tried to collect herself. Why would Ben leave with Bianca? She was so awful; even her own brother knew she was awful. How could Ben not see that? Did he find her attractive?Wasshe attractive?
“Earth to Ruth,” Clifford said, snapping his fingers.
She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“I think I found you a house. A perfect, glorious, to-die-for house. With the right offer, you could be moving in by Labor Day.”
“Really?”
He nodded, grinning and raising his glass to toast.
“I can’t wait to see it,” she said. What was that saying? One door closes, another door opens. She would be getting her house after all.
Now she just had to figure out a way to repack her baggage so she could move in.
It was like there was no one else in the room. Or, to be more accurate, no one else on the dock.
Olivia increasingly felt this way around Marco, that everything else blurred into the background, like a professionally crafted portrait shot on a camera. On a night like this, she wished Provincetown wasn’t so…Provincetown. That everyone wasn’t expected to celebrate together. There would be no enjoying the night for just the two of them except for this moment they’d managed to steal behind the house.
For weeks now, they’d been sneaking around like a pair of teenagers, spending their time tucked away at his apartment, never at Shell Haven or a restaurant on Commercial. This strategy was unspoken but obvious to both of them; the last thing they wanted was to feed the town gossip mill. After all, this was just a casual thing. Nothing to get too excited about.
And yet they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
