Page 75 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
So, this paper pushing purgatory was her life now. Flyers for 1995’s Doo-Wop Summer; inventory purchase receipts from places that no longer existed; employee timesheets written by hand. Candace learned more about the pier and its inner workings than she ever thought she would. Yet, almost a full month in, countless boxes of manila folders later, all she had for her troubles was eye strain and tiny cuts on her fingers… along with a severe case of missing a certain someone she was not supposed to see.
Candace and Daisy had stuck to their agreement to avoid one another. On and off the boardwalk, they were careful not to cross paths in case Vinny Lamarka or anyone else was tailing her. Knowing her uncle, it was more than possible. Still, every day she woke up to a ‘good morning’ text from Daisy. Every night, they spoke on the phone, watching new shows together, or talking about whatever came to mind, until one of them fell asleep. In spite of the physical distance, they kept getting closer.
It felt like an illicit affair, communicating with Daisy like she was some kind of dirty secret. Guilt and desire warred inside Candace. She wanted to be with Daisy. To be wanted by her. Yet, the closer they got, the worse Candace’s dread became. She had messed things up before, and now their situation was even more complicated. Potentially dangerous, since blackmail was in the mix. If she were to come clean about her feelings, it could be catastrophic.
Meanwhile, Daisy was thriving without Candace. Between Bagel Bombs! and a renewed passion for making art, the woman glowed like the most vibrant sunset. It might be from afar, but Candace would do whatever she could to catch a glimpse.
On the last day of the month, taking a break from document destruction, Candace escaped the damp pier underdepths to take lunch outside. It was “soupy,” as Daisy liked to call it. The weather had been horribly humid all week, and today was no different.
Norman said the Farmer’s Almanac was calling for a biblicalstorm at the end of the season, and Candace believed it.
Today, a blistering haze hung in the air, making the beach look like a desert. The shoobies who weren’t baking on the sand scurried from air-conditioned spot to air-conditioned spot. The boardwalk had its fair share of passersby, but, with the sun raging overhead, the outdoor parts of the fun pier were dystopianly empty and would stay that way until nightfall.
Alone, Candace sat at the themed Bayou Shack lunch counter outside the Haunted Swamp Mansion ride. The netting overhead was not the greatest sun cover, and the food was a mock-imitation of the authentic stuff. Even so, this was her favorite spot. With her mind a million miles away, Candace spooned up another bite of jambalaya and rolled it around in her mouth until she could bring herself to swallow.
“Jambalaya?” Demi’s voice grew closer as she crossed from the boardwalk to the fun pier. “When you said you could meet for lunch, I didn’t expect this place. You hate spicy foods.”
Shrugging, Canace lied, “I’m expanding my palate.”
“Mh-hm, I’m sure that’s it.” Sitting next to her at the counter, Demi followed Candace’s line of sight right across the boardwalk to Bagel Bombs!. “Nothing at all to do with the view.”
“Nope. No idea what you’re talking about.”
Candace’s gaze betrayed her, though. She could not stop herself from glancing in Daisy’s direction. Despite the oppressive weather, the place was in the middle of a lunch rush, and Daisy was handling it like a pro. She had not yet noticed that Candace was on her break. Sometimes, when she sat here, they would catch eyes and make faces at one another. With text conversations, it was almost like they were sitting side by side.
Almost, but nowhere near close enough.
Candace forced down another bite, to her stomach’s immediate regret. She set her spoon down and passed the offensive dish to her friend.
“Thanks, but I’m not a masochist.”
Demi ordered herself an iced tea, saying she would eat real food at the diner, and they set to catching up. Outside of brief chats before and after yoga class, they’d had little time for their friendship. While Candace was keeping up with her uncle’s demands and her secret investigation, Demi had her own plate full. Running the studio and playing errand girl for Daisy was hard enough. But, thanks to Candace’s renovation needs, Demi had also gotten drawn back into family restaurant drama.
“I’m sorry,” Candace apologized again. She felt like the worst kind of person, focusing so much on her problems and wants that it blew up on her friend. “It was a big ask getting your cousins involved. I didn’t mean to make you open that can of worms.”
“It’s alright. Living in the same small town, pretending everything in the family is hunky-dory, there’s bound to be drama. It’s the South Jersey way. They just needed me to pick up some shifts. I could do it in my sleep.”
Demi’s tone was easy, and a smile lifted her apple cheeks, but Candace could sense her stress. During class, her usually impeccable balance postures like tree and dancer were as wobbly as her state of mind. When it came to her family, nothing could throw her more.
“Are things with your aunt still the same?”
Demi winced.
“Yes. She’s perfectly polite, like I’m some sunburned shoobie right off the boards. I can’t blame her. I’m the one who blew up her marriage.”
“That’s not what happened. Just because you discovered the affair and told her about it, it’s not your fault. Your uncle is the one who cheated.”
“With my instructor and the class card I gave him for Christmas. I thinkTheiaThea would have preferred the air fryer.”
Despite turning it down, Demi took a baleful scoop of sad-looking, poorly seasoned fish-rice and ate it. Her scrunched-up face was worth the amount Candace suffered through.
“How about you gave her the gift of getting rid of a cheater?” Candace reached out and gave Demi’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’s only been a year. Your aunt will come around, give her time.”
“You’re right,” Demi said in a poor attempt at a chipper voice. “It’s hard to ignore me when I’m standing in front of her waiting for my table’s order. ‘Business first, bitching later’ might as well be the family motto.”
“We’ll crochet that on a pillow,” Candace said, making them both laugh. “At least you and your cousins seem close as ever. I can’t thank them enough for all their help.”
“Are you kidding? You heardtheia. You’re family to me, Can-can, so you’re family to them. They might come with some baggage, but they’re always there to help.”
