Page 6 of The Hampton Beach Café
“It was so cool in there. When I was little, Alex’s mom used to give us free tasters––I don’t think I had to pay for candy until I was about twelve.”
The walk back from the shop felt longer. It could have been because Frances really wanted to be back at Lockwood’s old candy shop and not back into reality where they’d have to figure out what they were doing for dinner, sleep, and inevitably talk even more about Malco––
“Oof!” Frances exclaimed, fiery pain shooting through her shin. “That hurt!”
“I am so sorry. Are you alright?” the dark-haired man who was wheeling the huge A-frame sign that Frances had just collided with said.
“Yeah, no,” she said. “I’m fine, sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry! I should have been looking where I was going…”
He trailed off as he parked the oversized thing, and Frances looked up from her stooped position to meet his eyes. Rubbing her shin where it had connected with the corner of the sign, she tried to smile at him––he looked so upset.
“Eco Jet Ski Safari?” she said. “Seems dangerous if the sign is anything to go by.”
He didn’t laugh, just looked at her like she’d started speaking a different language. Frances stood up straight, embarrassed now––but why should she be embarrassed? He ran into her, not the other way around!
She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.
“Frances? Frances Lane?” he said, taking her off guard.
“Uh, not really,” she said. “It’s Crawford, now.”
The man’s face lit up, and suddenly he looked sixteen again. Frances recognized him immediately,
“Alex! Oh my word, we were just…” Frances broke off, remembering the foreclosure sign just in time, “…talking about my high school days!”
“Last century, you mean?” He laughed and swooped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground as he hugged her.
She found herself laughing too but stopped when she caught sight of Lucinda, watching on with a ridiculous expression on her face.
“Alex, this is Lucinda,” Frances introduced them. “We’re up here for a birthday break. She takes the best friend thing very seriously.”
“I do indeed,” Luci said, stepping forward. “Nice to meet you.”
They shook hands. It was all so surreal that Frances felt almost like she was watching from outside herself. Alex Lockwood, right here in front of her after over twenty years? She wondered if any of their other friends were still in town, it didn’t seem likely.
Alex still had the habit of running his hand through his thick hair as he spoke, Frances noticed as he began an animated conversation with Lucinda.
“What do you think?” Lucinda asked, knowing full well that Frances had not been listening.
“Uh, yeah?” Frances tried to cover. “Details?”
“Tonight at seven,” Alex jumped in. “Lucinda suggested I prove that I’m sorry about your shin by showing you the best place to eat in town.”
She could agree to that, so she nodded, and they made plans to meet up later in the evening––after they’d unpacked. As she and Lucinda walked back down the beach, Frances rolled around what had just happened in her mind. What were the chances of them bumping into Alex Lockwood, of all people––on their first night in town and so soon after stumbling across his parents’ old store?
FIVE
Dinner with Alex had been great. She and Lucinda ate significantly more than anyone could advise them as being healthy. Honestly, though, what could be expected when the all-you-can-eat seafood and cocktail bar comes recommended by a local? The only option was to stock up on shrimp and keep the margaritas coming.
Well, Lucinda kept the margaritas coming. Alex had said he was driving, and Frances had no desire to sport a hangover the entire next day.
She was especially pleased with herself over this decision as she walked down the street happily this morning. With Lucinda in back-to-back meetings with clients until after three, Frances had the perfect opportunity to explore a little on her own. She planned on enjoying every shop she saw, having at least three relaxing coffees, and trying as much chocolate cake as she could manage in a day.
Stepping aside to let a woman with a stroller pass, Frances noticed a sterile-looking storefront just down the road and wondered what was inside. As she made her way down the street, Frances went over the events of the last few days in a quiet kind of awe because it had felt…amazing. It shouldn’t have. She should have felt devastated, destroyed––something! It had been a whole day since she had thought about the divorce, and when she had realized her true feelings in the early hours of the morning, her stomach had dropped with what felt like physical force. How could she be so cold? Or was she just in denial?
As she drew closer, she saw that it wasn’t a store but an art gallery. Vivid paintings were hanging from the walls, and a huge tangle of rope was hanging from the ceiling. Frances really did love art galleries, and––from the look of the deco-styled cart in the corner––this one served coffee, so it wasn’t even like she was deviating from the plan all that much.
