Page 2 of The Summer Request
It may have been one of his many minions. Whoever they were, they’d thought it was a good idea to serve refreshments and hors d’oeuvres, which was all very nice until it attracted the wrong sort of people.
Funeral crashers.
It was bound to happen. Michelle knew what people were like.
She turned her attention to diligently studying the faces of every person entering the little garden. There were a few she recognized, but many she didn’t. Her and Justine’s lives were not as close as they once were. When they were young, they had known all the same people, and the most excitement they’d had was sneaking into the lagoon to skinny dip.
She smiled to herself.
“Excuse me?”
Michelle turned to see an unfamiliar man standing behind her. She forced a smile, unsure if she was supposed to recognize him. “Hi.”
He leaned forward, dropping his voice. “Would you mind adding a little something to my lemonade?” He winked. “Hard to get by without it, you know?”
Michelle took a step back. “I’m sorry?”
He sighed and the twinkle disappeared from his eye. “Do you have vodka? I’ll even settle for gin.”
Ah, right. He assumed she worked there. Was it because of her outfit? She’d worn a dark dress, the only one she had. She didn’t think it made her lookthatmuch like a member of the waitstaff.
Probably a funeral crasher.
“I don’t work here,” she said flatly, walking off with a glass of seltzer water.
“Oh, sorry,” he called out, lacking any hint of embarrassment.
Michelle took her seat again and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Perhaps it wasn’t as nice as she thought it was? She hadn’t worn it in years and was just relieved it still fit. She hadn’t put much effort into her outfit. The shock of Justine’s passing had completely filled her thoughts.
Laughs and loud voices rumbled behind her, and she turned to see Lou making his entrance, a beautiful young woman on his arm. Michelle stared, making a count of how many of the unfamiliar mourners greeted them, laughing and shaking hands.
Oh, dear old Lou. How nice it must be to have friends wherever he went.
A man tapped her on the shoulder, asking if the seat next to her was taken. She shook her head, and he picked the chair up and walked off, leaving Michelle with the growing realization that she was the only person from Justine’s old life who had made it to the service.
“All right, Louis, you’re blocking the entire walkway,” griped a voice from behind.
Michelle knew who it was without having to look – Justine’s mother, her voice raspy from decades of smoking.
“Last I checked you weren’t the king of England, so why don’t you find yourself a seat?”
Michelle watched as Tammy Miller pushed her way through before taking a seat in the front row.
She suppressed a smile. While she and Mrs. Miller certainly weren’t friends, Michelle still enjoyed it when someone else bore the brunt of the old woman’s temper.
Mrs. Miller caught her eye and offered a curt nod. Michelle nodded back.
It was nice not to be alone.
Two
The ferry was just as she remembered it. Was it possible they hadn’t gotten new ships in the last fifteen years? Or did ferries only come in one design, already perfected, with no need to be improved?
Lisa adored the Washington State ferries, and she loved it whenever she got a chance to step away from her everyday life and go for a ride. Even when stuck on dry land, she loved watching the green and white ships break over the horizon, forever a symbol of adventure and the vastness of the world.
Nothing else in life could pull off that bold green and white. Once, in a fit of nostalgia, she tried to paint their family room that exact shade of ferry green. It was a miserable failure, and her son had forever dubbed the space The Kermit Room.
It felt good to be on a ship again. One change she did notice, however, was the car fee. Who could afford it? Lisa had panicked a little when she’d arrived at the ferry terminal in Anacortes and tried to buy a ticket.
