Page 33 of No One Wants That (Blitzen Bay)

“I appreciate that and right back at you.”

He stretches out in his chair and props his feet up on the picnic table bench. “Millie will find out though if she doesn’t already know. I can’t even get a lie past her and I know her better than anyone.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been stupid enough to try,” I say, looking back at him as I grab another piece of chicken off the grill.

“Once,” he says, laughing. “She saw right through me. I haven’t tried it again.”

“Probably a good thing. Millie’s scary enough, but if Mack ever caught you lying to his daughter, I think he’d kill you for real.”

“No doubt about it. Hook me up with another beer while you’re up.”

As I grab a couple of beers out of the cooler, an older man, who looks alarmingly like Santa Claus, walks onto the patio.

“Hey Sam,” Nash says, shaking his hand. “I’m glad you made it over here. Everybody, this is my neighbor Sam. He’s a former Marine and the best guy you’ll ever meet.”

“What’s up, Sam?” Mason says, pulling out a chair for him. “You’ve got two SEALs here. I’m Mason and that’s Butch. And that’s Alex. No military service, but a decent shortstop.”

“Decent?” Sam says, smiling broadly. “He’s a perennial All Star.”

Alex walks over and pats his shoulder. “Finally, someone in this group appreciates my true value.”

“I’m a big baseball fan,” Sam says, his eyes twinkling under his bushy, white eyebrows. “I was excited when Nash told me you were coming in, but I’m still wondering why you skipped the All-Star game.”

“Oh, man,” Alex says, pulling up a chair next to him. “I wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend. We met a little over eight months ago. But with the holidays and the season starting, we haven’t been able to spend a lot of quality time together.”

Sam nods. “She must be a keeper if you’re missing All-Star week. Is it true this is your last year playing?”

“Yep, she’s definitely a keeper and yeah, it’s my last year. I start law school at Pepperdine in January.”

“That’s right. Noelle told me you were going to be in school with her,” Sam says, looking around at us. “Where’s your girlfriend now? In fact, where are all of the ladies? I hope this isn’t a male-only night. I would have stayed home if I’d known.”

“That’s my guy,” Nash says, patting Sam’s back. “A ladies’ man if I’ve ever seen one. They’re upstairs doing girl talk. They’ll be down soon.”

“You hungry, Sam?” Mason says. “I’ll get you a plate.”

“I already ate, but I would definitely take a beer from you. Only one, though. My eyesight isn’t the best anymore when I’m driving at night.”

Nash pats his shoulder. “Have as many as you want. Elle and I will drive you home.”

“Speaking of Noelle,” Sam says, his eyes suddenly turning serious, “I met her cousin this afternoon. She was headed out on the lake trail. Did she make it back okay? I was a little worried about her.”

“She eventually made it back okay,” Nash says. “Butch had to rescue her after she fell into the lake trying to pet a raccoon.”

“Raccoons have rabies,” Sam says, furrowing his brow more deeply. We all nod in agreement.

“Yep,” I say. “But don’t try to tell her that. She’s about as stubborn as they come.”

“My wife was stubborn,” Sam says. “I learned pretty early on just to let her have her way. Honestly, she was right most of the time anyway. It saved time.”

“Did your wife pass?” I ask.

“Many years ago. Although most days it feels like just yesterday. Grief is a tricky emotion.”

I pat his shoulder. “She sounds like she was a good one.”

“She was at that,” he says, his eyes misting up a little bit. “This inn is named for her—Holly. Her parents built it when they bought all of this land in the late forties.”

“Hank told me she left the land and the town to you when she died,” Nash says. “Do you still own it?”

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