Page 37 of The Beachgoers
Jason doesn’t back down—not with that shoved-sensation lingering on his shoulder.AndMaris’ words stuck in his mind. So he keeps his hand firmly extended. “Come on, guy. Shake. Let bygones be bygones?”
“Okay, then,” Shane relents, slowly stepping closer. “Good to see you again.” He firmly takes Jason’s hand in his and pulls him close. “So, my friend,” Shane says while slapping his shoulder. Just quietly enough for Jason to hear, he asks him, “How you doing, you good-for-nothing, son-of-a-bitch scumbag?”
Jason can’t help it, then, the way he backs up, laughing. Leave it to Shane to so eloquently break the ice. “I’m okay,” Jason answers, nodding. Just as quietly, he asks back, “How about yourself, you worthless motherfucker?”
Laughing too, Shane casually cuffs his denim shirtsleeves. “I knew I missed shooting the shit with you.”
“Yeah. Likewise.” Running his knuckles along his scarred jaw, Jason squints through the shadows at Shane. “Hey, listen. Really glad you made it here tonight. It’ll mean a lot to Elsa.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Elsa’s a fine lady.”
Just then, car doors slam and more people arrive. When Jason glances over his shoulder, there’s Matt waving to him with Eva at his side. So Jason turns back to Shane and claps his arm. “Got to see Matt, guy. So I’ll catch you later, you stinkin’ louse,” he says before heading off.
“Jason! Wait up,” Shane calls out, taking a step closer.
Jason turns back and looks at him.
“Thanks, man,” Shane tells him, turning up his hands.
Jason simply nods, then crosses the lawn toward Matt.
* * *
Okay, so the food table is just as splendid as everything else this evening. Maris stands there looking at the mini club sandwiches, the watermelon-feta bites. She picks up a zucchini crisp and digs in. Even with the sad news her aunt received this week, she still went all out. Of course, Elsa wouldn’t do things any other way.
“Can you believe it?” Maris asks Cliff beside her, all while wondering ifheknows Elsa’s secret. If so, he’d have been sworn to secrecy, too. “Look at this place,” Maris says instead of anything else. She nods toward the green lawn sloping to Long Island Sound, then motions to the softly illuminated shingled inn. “It’s straight out of a fairy tale,” she adds, her words wistful.
“Idobelieve it,” Cliff tells her as he fills a plate with food and glances quickly at Maris. “Your aunt has that magic touch.”
“And it’s such a gorgeous night,” Maris adds, spotting Jason crossing the lawn now, “especially with the grounds all lit up like this.”
“Once everyone’s here,” Cliff says, then bites into a mini sandwich, “I guess Elsa will start with the Chamber of Commerce ribbon-cutting.”
“Oh, excuse me, Cliff.” Maris stuffs the rest of her zucchini snack into her mouth before dropping two mini sandwiches onto a clean plate and grabbing a napkin. “I have to talk to Jason.”
“Glad he made it tonight,” Cliff says, waving to Jason as she walks off with her plate.
Carefully then, Maris crosses the lawn. More cage-lights hang from arched stakes edging the yard. Their illumination throws long shadows now. What a night it’s turning out to be. First Elsa’s imminent secret reveal, and now this—Jason reconciling with Shane. Maris hopes for the best, but isn’t surewhatto expect next.
“I thought you might need this,” she says when handing Jason the plate of food. “Especially after what I witnessed between you and Shane.” She steps back as Jason picks up a sandwich and takes a double bite. “So. How’d it go?” she asks.
“It was all right,” Jason says, swiping his chin with the back of his hand.
“All right? Just… all right? Come on, because seriously? I haven’t seen you laugh like that all summer long. What did heeversay to loosen you up?”
Jason steps closer and bends close to her ear. “Just the right thing, sweetheart. And it’s between me and Shane.” Jason finishes the first of his mini sandwiches. “Oh,Marone. What isinthis, anyway?” he asks around the food.
“Heaven, for you. Pesto, turkey, provolone, bacon. All on toasted focaccia.”
“Damn,” Jason says, biting into the second sandwich. As he wipes his mouth with his napkin, he nods to the yard beside the veranda. “Look who’s here.”
Maris turns to see Mitch Fenwick arriving. He’s carrying some cumbersome platter in both arms.
“Mitch!” Jason sets his plate on the veranda railing and walks over. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
Carol rounds the corner of the inn then, too. She’s wearing a cropped crochet halter top over a tiered rust-colored gypsy skirt, which flows behind her as she hurries to Maris. “Hey there, Maris,” she says, bending into a hug.
“Oh hi, hon,” Maris tells her. “How’ve you been?”
