Free Summer at the Shore Leave Cafe by Abbie Williams Page A

the girls for the summer.”
    â€œYou usually do, right?”
    â€œYeah, they love it.”
    â€œFunny I haven’t seen you around before now.”
    â€œI know, it’s Landon, right? But we don’t usually stay more than a couple weeks.”
    Such surface conversation, while his eyes seemed to be telling me something much more complex. It was odd being engaged in a multi-level communication I wasn’t sure he intended. He asked, “Longer this summer though?”
    Something caught in my throat, so I nodded instead of answering. He went on, “Dad is glad to have you back. He misses you a lot around here. Jillian, too.”
    I moved my gaze to the dock, studying the unchanging wood grain with its knot holes and wavy lines. I said, still looking down, “I miss everybody here, too.”
    Justin rose abruptly then, back to his full height. I shaded my eyes with one hand and returned his gaze; it was easier with distance between our faces. He said, “Well, it’s good to see you, Joelle. You and Jilly going to Trout Days later?”
    â€œWe’re headed there now, actually.”
    â€œSee you around then,” he said, and then turned and walked away; I could see Jilly, clad in a bright yellow sundress, approaching from the café as I watched him go.
    â€œHi, Justin,” she called to him and he lifted one arm in a brief wave. She then directed a smile my way and stopped twenty yards away, on the bank, planting her hands on both hips. “Come on, Joey, I’m sick of waiting for your ass!”
    â€œOh for the love, Jillian,” I grumbled, hiking my dress down and standing. My wet bare feet left slim prints along the boards of the dock; I leaned and grabbed my sandals by the heel straps.
    â€œYou wanna walk or take my car?” she called as I made my way over the grass.
    â€œLet’s walk, do you mind?” I replied. I saw Justin climb into his truck up in the parking lot; he began driving but then braked suddenly as his dad called over to him. For a moment they spoke, and then he drove away.
    Dodge turned back to the café and caught sight of us. He yelled, “Have fun, girls, don’t break too many hearts!”
    â€œI don’t think there’s much danger of that,” Jilly called back good-naturedly.
    Mom appeared on the porch then, and teased, “Back before midnight, girls.”
    â€œHardy har har,” I responded. “Seriously, Mom, I turn into a pumpkin way before that hour. I’m old!”
    â€œIf you’re old then I don’t want to think about what I am!” she returned.
    â€œYou guys are coming over later, right?” Jilly asked. We always closed after lunch during Trout Days; no one ventured out of Landon during the festivities, even the scant mile it took to get out here.
    â€œSure, we couldn’t keep Gran from the dance,” Mom joked, lighting a smoke.
    Jilly and I made our way along the lake road, dappled with shadows from the maples, oaks, pines, and grapevines that grew thick enough on either side to make it seem as though we traversed a glowing green tunnel. Flicker Trail was so familiar I could have walked with a bandana over my eyes; instead I ambled along beside my sister, happy in the moment that we were in no hurry and could enjoy the luxury of walking barefoot (I still carried my sandals) beside the lake. To our left it lay in a clear blue expanse, calm as sheet of sapphire satin where no boats marred the surface. The sun in a cloudless sky danced over the water, twinkling in an ever-changing light path, tempting as always, as though you could climb out there and walk along its length over the ripples.
    â€œSo I talked to Justin,” I told Jilly.
    â€œSo I gathered,” she responded.
    â€œHis face…”
    â€œI know, it’s hard to get used to.”
    â€œI always think of him as so carefree…he and Aubrey were so in love, back