Page 42 of Seven Summer Weekends

They both laughed.

“I’m glad Rome didn’t squash the hopeless romantic in you.”

“Me too, I guess.”

Lisa had given them each a Life Assessment Worksheet before she left. It had annoyed them both when she handed them off, but they spent the afternoon contemplating their answers. Specifically:

What do you want out of life?

What are the obstacles to achieving your goals?

What are the steps to reaching them?

They shared their answers to the first question over sunset and rosé.

“I want to get my career back, but in a way that leaves more room for other things.”

“I love that for you! Though it may be difficult, given your tendency to take it all on.” Kizzy paused before admitting her answer.

“I want the family at the ferry dock.”

When Kizzy said it,the family at the ferry dock, it made Addison feel like she was lying to herself. She wanted some iteration of that too, though she worried she was too controlling to dream of something that seemed so hard to control.

Their deep thoughts were interrupted by Sally running toward them with a tennis ball in her mouth. Ben stood tall at the top of the steps, causing Addison to fumble her throw. He walked down to them, barefoot in jeans with an open button-down. His abs were not as insane as Terrence Williams’s, but they were nothing to shake a stick at. His hair was all over the place, and between that and the outfit, he was a bit of a mess—a sexy mess.

“I like what you did with your hair there,” Kizzy joked, motioning to the part that was standing straight up. Ben licked his fingers and flattened it. It was undeniably adorable.

“You two want to go to town tonight?”

“Maybe. Where to?” Addison asked.

“It depends if you want to stay out of trouble or if you’re looking for it.”

“We’re looking for it!” Kizzy shouted, like a college kid on spring break.

“OK, then!” Ben laughed, and joked, “We can search for your one-night stands. I can be your wingman!”

At least, they thought he was joking.

They shared a conspiratorial look, and when he added, “It’s one-hit wonder night at the Sandbar!” they both agreed. Neither had heard of such a thing, but it certainly went with the one-nighter theme. It sounded like the perfect antidote to their introspective day.

The night was fun, just the kind of fun they all needed. It wasn’t wingman-like at all. Simply three friends drinking and laughing and dancing together. When “Come On Eileen” came on, they screamed on the dance floor like drunk teenagers. Half a dozen songs later, ironically during “I Melt with You,” by Modern English, Ben excused himself to get some air. Kizzy ran off to the ladies’ room. Addison followed Ben out to the street, where he sat on a bench. She slid down next to him, appreciating the cool night air—she was also melting.

“Wow! What a fun night!”

“Yeah, you never know what to expect on this island.”

“I haven’t danced that hard in so long!” she gushed, while catching her breath. “My mom used to blast music—all disco—and make my sister and me help her straighten the house before the housekeeper came. We would dance hard like that. It’s one of my best childhood memories.”

Ben was quiet, kind of staring straight on at nothing.

“You OK?” she asked, tapping him on his knee, and catching her breath.

“I’m not much of a wingman, sorry—not that either of you needs a wingman.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m surprised that you’re single, to be honest. What’s up with that?”

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