Page 57 of Enemies to Lobsters
Ike’s gentle smile tells me he knows better. He kneads at his shoulder while he apologizes. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know where I was. If it happens again, I’ll text you. I promise. Okay?”
And just like that, I’m not mad at him. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s probably the towel. He sounds so genuine, too. I nod. “Okay.”
His phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. He checks the screen and lets out a deep breath. I’m sure it’s work. Someone in town probably thinks the streetlights are too yellow. I want to applaud him when he lets the call go to voicemail.
I watch him style his wet hair, appreciating the view while I work up the courage to ask the question that has been weighing on me all night.
I bite my lip. I need to know. “So... Is your mom okay? With us?”
Ike hesitates, taking his time to put his toiletries in their places on the shelf.
“Oh, man. That bad, huh?” I ask with a stilted laugh. “You don’t have to tell me. I figured she wouldn’t be thrilled, but—”
“What? No. She’s fine.” He’s rubbing his shoulder again. “She’ll be fine,” he amends.
“Ike Wentworth. Are you aware that you have a tell?”
He stops massaging his shoulder to look at me in the mirror. “What?”
“Your tell. You rub your shoulder when you’re stressed out, or when you’re telling a white lie.”
“It’s just a dumb, old football injury. I messed it up my senior year and kept playing. That did it in.” His shoulders seem to tense at the memory. “My mom is… fine. Don’t worry about her.”
“Why did you keep playing if you were hurt?” I would take over rubbing his shoulder, but the man is still wearing a towel, and I’m hanging by a thread over here.
“I wanted to play.” He shrugs. “I was a stupid kid.”
“Your coach let you keep going?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
Something is off about this story, but I don’t push it. I’m more worried about his parents being back in town and within judging range. “Your mom can’t be fine. She looked like she wanted to shove me off the island last night.”
He shakes his head. “My mom is a complex person who is overly attached to her sons. She’ll work it out. One of us was bound to get married eventually.”
“But she wanted to be there, I’m sure. And she wanted the marriage to be real.”
The light in his eyes flickers, then he frowns. “She wanted to plan a wedding. She’ll get the chance one day.”
Now I’m frowning, too, imagining his mother planning a wedding with whoever comes after me when this business marriage ends. She’ll probably like Ike’s next wife. I bet Ike’s next wife has never run over anyone’s mailbox out of spite. Why do I care whether Shelly Wentworth approves of me? Her future daughter-in-law is the one who needs to win her over. I just need to get through this year and get this lighthouse finished.
This reminds me of an idea that I need to run past Ike. When this renovation is done I want to hold a ribbon-cutting ceremonywith the town. We can spread the word and hopefully get some eyes on Cape Georgeana. Ike is always thinking of ways to get more people here. If the locals can act normal for a day or two when there are cameras here, we have a shot. Can the people of Cape Georgeana catfish normal people long enough to get them to spend money here? That’s a big ask.
“Did I say something wrong?” He leans against the counter, folding his arms. “You’ve got the serious face going on.”
“No, I was thinking about when the renovation is finished. I had an idea. We should have a—”
His phone buzzes again, and his eyes dart to the screen. I try to get a look because I’m nosy. It’s his mom. He cringes, mumbles an apology, and swipes to answer, leaving me in the bathroom.
Where are you going in that towel, sir?I want to ask.
But he’s long gone.
Chapter 27
Ike
Why does walking into Marlow’s Diner feel like walking into a battle scene inLord of the Rings? It’s like there are a bunch of orcs charging down a hillside toward one person. Me. I’d lay low in the back, except my mother should be here somewhere. It’s crowded today. I don’t see her, and I can’t afford to look around. The orcs will get me.
