Page 76 of Songs of Summer

“May fifth, 1987.”

He repeated her info out loud.

“Maggie May Wheeler. May fifth, 1987. Chagrin Falls, Ohio.”

He realized it might look odd for him to be reading off the details like that, and was happily interrupted by a regular, who called out on the way to the dartboard, “Hey, Chase—the usual, please!”

He nodded, and then returned their IDs.

She must have found the interaction odd as well, because the girl, his daughter, was staring at him strangely when he handed them back. He could swear she did a double take when she looked him in the eyes. There was no denying that their unusual color—almost violet—was the same as her own. When he went into the kitchen to place their dinner order, he saw her whisper to the guy she was with.

Chase questioned whether he was being paranoid as he returned to the bar and set down their drinks.

“What’s to do around here?” bachelor number two asked.

“It’s early, but we get a good crowd here on Friday nights.”

“OK, cool, you been tending bar here long?”

“Not too long,” he answered.

“We’re new around here too,” the guy said, fishing.

Chase fell for it. He knew he’d fallen for it but couldn’t help himself.

“New? I’ve been here every summer since I was born, my first gig was a lifeguard, but now I mostly tend bar.”

“Oh.”

His daughter, Maggie May Wheeler from Chagrin Falls, Ohio, picked up her tequila and soda and downed it like it was a shot. She handed him back the menus and said:

“Actually, we’re gonna go.”

She knew too. He knew she knew.

At least she didn’t ask to borrow his bike.

Track 35

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Maggie

As Maggie madeher way from Ocean Beach to Bay Harbor, her anger toward Matt grew with each tequila-fueled step. She was certain he had been withholding the truth from her—that the bartender was the lifeguard, and the lifeguard was her father. He had to have known. Why didn’t he tell her? Was there something sinister about her father’s side of the family? Did she come from a long line of ax murderers or something? She knew she was being irrational, but she just felt so confused and betrayed.

The words Matt spoke when she entered his house that first night—You can trust me—echoed in her mind, making her even more furious that she had let him in. It was further proof that the high shelf was where she should remain. On top of being hangry, she had never felt so double-crossed in her life.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jason urged, wrapping his arm around her to offer solace. She wiggled away.

“I can’t right now,” she said in her typical “Maggie will console herself” fashion. And yes, she was fully aware thatshe had let Matt console her the other night. She became angrier still.

They arrived at the Bay Beach to a setting that, in other circumstances, would have warmed their small-town hearts. Everyone was cozied up on a sea of blankets and beach chairs. The Great South Bay was glistening in the background, and Amanda Seyfried and Stellan Skarsgård were glistening on the big screen. It was the scene inMamma Mia!where they were trying to determine Amanda’s paternity.

The absurdity of their timing was only matched by the absurdity of the circumstances.

“Are you my father?”Seyfreid asks.

“Yes, I think so, yes,” Skarsgård replies.

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