Page 59 of The Beachgoers
Stacy pulls Elsa close. “We really have to get to the grill outside now,” she says.
“Okay. You two go.” Elsa shoos them off. “I’ll take care ofwhiskeyingthe relish.”
Moments later, she’s adding a shot of whiskey to the specialty relish.Andfilling her shot glass a second time with more whiskey.
“Another?” Cliff asks while sampling a spoonful of the relish. “I think it’s good now.”
Elsa takes a long breath. “This one’snotfor the relish,” she tells him while topping off her glass. “It’s for me.”
“Wait.” Cliff heads to the cabinet and reaches for another shot glass. “I’ll join you.”
* * *
If Shane closes his eyes, he could easily travel back in time. Because hanging with everyone at the inn tonight is just like the good old Foley’s days. Tensions? Gone. Grievances? Evaporated into the salt air. Problems? Worked out. Tonight the talk is easy, the laughs frequent, as the gang piles in through the inn’s side door—straight into Elsa’s kitchen.
“Get me one, Commish,” Jason calls out as he takes a seat at the massive marble island.
“Me, too,” Celia says, walking around to the stove where she lifts a lid off a pot and inhales some sweet aroma.
“Me too, what?” Shane asks as he joins them in the room.
Celia nods to Cliff getting shot glasses out of the cabinet. “I guess we’re doing shots now?”
“Hey, I’m in.” Shane sits beside Jason at the white marble island and snaps his fingers at Cliff for a glass. While he waits, he recognizes the Mason jars scattered on the island and around the countertops. They’re the ones he and Celia filled with wildflowers and beach grasses last night. He also sees Elsa standing at the counter. She’s in her finest threads—that lace-trimmed black jumpsuit. Her brown hair is in a loose chignon with a gold-bead headband. Top shelf all the way.
Andshe’s filling a glass with top-shelf whiskey.
“Two more, over here,” Maris calls out as she and Eva walk in.
“Ladies,” Shane says, standing and motioning them to the two empty barstools beside Jason. When they sit, Shane crosses the kitchen to Elsa. “Allow me.” He takes the whiskey bottle from her just after she fills Cliff’s shot glass.
“Oh, Shane. Thank you,” Elsa says. “Don’t mind if you do.” Handing Cliff his glass then, she tips her own shot glass to his and together they toss back their liquor.
“All right,” Shane says as he returns to the marble island. All of a sudden, empty glasses are lined up straight across it, with impatient hands waiting for their dose. “Celia?” He hands her the first shot, then continues down the line. “Eva, Maris.”
As they reach over for their shots and toast each other, Nick walks in. “What the hell?” he asks. “What’s going on?”
“Whiskey shots,” Jason tells him. “Show me some ID, punk.”
Nick waves him off and lifts an empty shot glass off the island. “Gas up the tank,” he says, holding the glass toward Shane. “What’s the occasion?”
“Toasting the bride and groom,” Shane assumes as he fills Nick’s glass with the amber liquor.
Nick looks around the room. “Where they at?”
“The photographer’s taking pictures on the beach, with their kids,” Trent explains, walking in behind Nick and signaling he’ll have a shot, too.
“Oh, yes. Kyle and Lauren wanted a seaside family portrait,” Celia says. “Taylor told me she’s assisting with props.”
“Hopefully they get some good pics. Lauren’s parents will be taking the kids totheirplace tonight,” Elsa adds. “Give the honeymooners some alone time.”
“You mean… sexy time,” Nick chimes in.
“Mark your calendars for nine months from now,” Eva warns as she swigs her shot.
“Bottoms up, then,” Shane tells them all.
“Where’d everybody go?” a voice calls out seconds later.
