Page 14 of The Hampton Beach Café 3
Lucinda shook her head. "It feels so...dramatic, you know? Like, I should just be able to not do it, and getting my bank to block any gambling site feel likes...overkill. Plus...I feel like knowing the block is there would make me think about it more...I also think that maybe it's...well, maybe I don't want to block myself like that––just in case I really want to."
She leaned her shoulder against the door frame and sighed. Frances noticed that she was giving her a look––the same look Lucinda gave her when she wanted to be extracted from a conversation but didn't want to be rude to the people she was bored of. Frances knew what she was being asked to do.
"Do you want me to do it?" she asked. "Totally no pressure, just an offer."
Biting the inside of her lower lip, Lucinda looked genuinely torn––maybe Frances had been mistaken?
Suddenly nodding, Lucinda pulled out her phone and punched the passcode in. With a few more swipes, she had opened and unlocked her bank accounting app.
Frances took the phone and silently tapped through the settings until she found the gambling block, full precautions in place. Lucinda would not even be able to buy gift cards at this rate.
"There…" Frances said as she handed the phone back, "…and I'm not going to go for a run tonight. I'm going to stay here, ok?"
"I hate that I'm like this," Lucinda said, her voice shaking. "I'm so stupid..."
It hurt to see her friend like this, but Frances knew that there wasn't a lot she could do but be supportive and non-judgmental––she'd been reading a lot online about how to be there for a loved one with a gambling problem.
"Come here," she said, putting her arms around Lucinda and drawing her into a tight hug. "You're doing amazing. You want to change it, so you are. There are always going to be hard days, which is why you have a bunch of tools, coping mechanisms, and support networks to help you on those days. I'm so proud of you, ok? So don't you dare call my best friend stupid, or you'll be in so much trouble."
That made Lucinda laugh, even though Frances could feel damp tear patches through her thin t-shirt. As Lucinda pulled away smiling, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Thank you, and I'm sorry," she said.
"Stop apologizing and help me count these bags of beans," Frances said, poking Lucinda in the arm as she walked past.
Together they counted every item in the stock room, twice. Three hours later, when Vince came up to tell them he was leaving, they were exhausted––and they now had to go down and deal with the post-sunset crowd.
Pulling two strong espressos, Frances hummed a tune while Lucinda wiped counters and took advantage of the momentary lull to straighten the books and re-plump the cushions.
"Well, hello, you two," Clarkson said as he stepped through the door, his hand behind his back.
"Hey," Lucinda said. "Where have you been all week? Normally we can't get rid of you."
He laughed and strode across the room towards Frances as she stood behind the bar, espressos in each hand.
"Organizing something really special," he said, winking at her.
Frances felt her stomach knot. He looked amazing in a wonderfully cut suit and just enough cologne that she caught a hint of it as he leaned in and pecked her cheek.
Pulling his hand out from behind his back, he handed to her a large bouquet of purple flowers spotted with yellow daisies.
"For you…" he said, "…to apologize for being somewhat of a prat at the Fourth."
"Prat? Have you been in London for a week? Is that what you're telling us?" Lucinda stepped towards them and grabbed the bouquet.
Clarkson laughed. "No, though that would be a laugh, hey. I've been in Boston, organizing something pretty cool..."
Lucinda was smelling the flowers, her face buried in the vibrant display.
"Yeah? How exciting?" Frances asked.
"What would you say to three traditional print media reviewers, travel writers, and world-class journalists?"
Lucinda snorted. "Something to make them like me."
Frances raised an eyebrow. "Probably something along the lines of 'why are you here and please stop sniffing the fresh baked goods?’"
Throwing his head back and laughing even louder than before, Clarkson put his hand down over hers and the warmth of it startled her.
