Page 79 of Enemies to Lobsters
Diana
I’m relieved to see that my grandparents’ house is mostly unscathed after last night’s storm. I shouldn’t be surprised. Ike was right. An estate that’s been around since the War of 1812 has seen a lot worse. And it has working showers now. That’s where I’m headed after I check on my grandparents. I’m pulling into their garage when a call comes in.
Oh, blessed car charger. Blessed cell service. God bless us, everyone.
It’s Marlow. I already called her to let her know I’m safe. We just hung up a few minutes ago, actually. I press the button to pick up the call. “Hey, Mar—”
I clamp my mouth shut when I realize she has me on speaker. When I hear the familiar tinking and scraping of silverware, I know she has me eavesdropping on her diner. Is that Ike barking in the background? ItisIke. And I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Number one. Let me tell you some things about Diana. Her heart is huge and soft and… I love her. Like it or not, I’m going to try to keep her around as long as she’ll stay. She's part of this town now. Get used to it. Every last one of you owes her an apology.” My heart is on the verge of bursting, then Ike adds,“So, if you guys could act fifty percent less weird around her, that would be great.”
I throw my hand over my mouth to cover my laugh. I don’t need Ike to know I’m listening. And I owe Marlow for this. I only regret that I don’t have some way to record it. Ike is on a roll.
And he isn’t done. “Number two. I won’t be this town’s sacrificial lamb any more.” I smile at the familiar phrase. “I’m not going to be Mr. Everything for anyone but Diana. I’ll do the job I’m paid to do, but I’m going to need everyone to pitch in around here. And you can start pitching in by actingfifty percent less weird.” A male voice says something I can’t make out, but Ike cuts him off quickly. “You know what I mean by weird. Stop scaring tourists away with your tiny Speedo, Kevin. No more Speedos in the town green.”
The new rule is met with a chorus of agreement, and I can’t stop grinning.
“Buncha prudes.” I’m assuming that comment came from Kevin. “Let me be me.”
“There are a hundred ways to be yourself without showing everyone your… full name and address.” That sounded like Shelly. Her tone tells me she puts air quotes around “full name and address,” and now I’m picturing Kevin’s tiny Speedo. My stomach flips.
“Number three.” Ike talks over Kevin’s attempt at a rebuttal. “Number three.”
“Geez, how many numbers are there?” I don’t recognize that voice.
“This is the last one, and it’s related to the number two.” I love the commanding tone in Ike’s voice. I can picture his stern jawline and serious eyes, and I wish I were there. “The lighthouse and keeper’s house took a beating last night. This town did, too. We have to pull together to clean up and rebuild. I can’t do this myself. The Yorks have invested enough.” Ikesounds so tired now—he has to be after the last twenty-four hours. “We all benefit from the lighthouse being restored. We’re all going to pitch in. Got it?”
“Got it.” I mostly hear Marlow this time.
“Okay, so what are the three things?” Ike prompts like he’s talking to a room full of first graders. “What was number three?” I picture him holding up three fingers.
“We’re all going to pitch in,” a few people murmur in unison.
“Good,” Ike says. “We’ll organize groups of volunteers at a town meeting tomorrow. That’ll give us the day to assess the damage and prioritize what needs to be done. Okay, and number two?”
I am here for every word of this. I get comfortable in my car seat. I wish I had some popcorn.
“No Speedos in the town green.” That butt-hurt voice was probably Kevin’s.
There’s an “ugh” that sounds like Marlow.
Ike prods, “And?”
“We’re all going to pitch in,” a man says.
“Good. Thanks, Hal.” There’s murmuring I can’t make out. Ike continues, “Okay, and number one?”
A bunch of people mutter a bunch of different things, but Marlow gives the gist of it when she says, “You love Diana. We’ll get used to it.”
“Yes. See? It’s simple. Three things.” I love the calm in Ike’s voice.
“Number two and number three are almost the same,” someone supplies.
“Oh, brother.” Marlow groans.
I have to agree with whoever that was, but I’m so proud of Ike for putting his foot down, I don’t care. Plus, he just announced in a town meeting that he loves me.
Ike Wentworth loves me. At our reception he told me he wants to make this business marriage a real marriage. My reflex was to run, but now I can’t imagine a life that would make me happier. The rightness of staying with Ike and finishing our lives together settles over me like a warm blanket. When Boone’s scrawny arms wrapped around me I had the same feeling. That panicked hug from a little boy made me realize that I don’t just love Ike. I love this town, with all of its eccentricity and weirdness. I belong here. This is home. Ike is my home.
