Page 22 of The Weekend Crashers
“I could. If it were for a good reason. I don’t think this qualifies.”
“Cole, what kind of attitude is that?” Aidan says, surprised.
“Oh, so you think this is stupid?” Scott says in a way that makes Aidan wonder if maybe Scott thinks it’s stupid. Maybe he and Barclay are the only ones who think the bushcraft angle was a good idea. He hopes not.
“No,” Cole says in a tone Aidan knows all too well. Whatever he says next will be sarcastic. “I’ve been thinking recently I really need to improve my fort-building skills.”
“Sure,” Scott says. “Since you’ve already mastered the skills of sneaking around and lying.”
Aidan doesn’t know who hits who first, but fists start flying,and the boys drop to the ground. He jumps in to pull Cole away from his cousin, and Ritchie does the same with Scott.
“Knock it off!” Aidan yells.
“What the hell is going on with you two?”
Cole brushes the dirt and twigs off his jeans. He shakes one hand, rubbing his wrist with his thumb. And he walks off without another word. Aidan turns to Scott, and he just shrugs.
This isn’t the bonding weekend he’d had in mind.
When Piper spots the Bucks County Playhouse, she knows she’s almost reached the inn. She feels bad for ditching her mom, but there will be plenty of time for togetherness later. Right now, she needs to deal with that phone call.
The lawn between the inn and the theater is dotted with red wooden Adirondack chairs. She sits in one facing the river and the promenade. The sun shines on her face, and she tilts her chin up, giving herself a moment to enjoy the moment before dealing with the unexpected voicemail from Gretchen. She can’t imagine why she’s calling Piper a day after firing her. Whatever it is, she didn’t want to have the conversation in front of her mother. So she let it go to voicemail.
But now that she’s alone, she decides not to bother listening to the voicemail. If there’s paperwork or some exit bureaucracy, she’ll deal with it when she gets back to the city. The whole point of a getaway is to actuallyget away.
In the distance, on the inn’s back terrace, Kalli and Laurel are drinking from mugs, bundled in cozy cardigans they no doubt crafted themselves. They seem so relaxed and happy. She knows it’s what her mother wants for the two of them this weekend. Piper wants that too.
She looks out at the water. The afternoon sunlight gives theriver an amber sheen. Flower beds filled with purple asters, fountain grass, stalks of small red berries and pinecones decorate the railing that runs the length of the promenade. Across the river, an ornate spire topping a church reaches toward the blue sky. And in the water, a gaggle of ducks paddles by.
“Excuse me,” someone says. She looks up. A tall guy with sandy-brown hair stands in front of her. Austin Butler from check-in. “Sorry to bother you. You’re with the knitting group, right? I saw you in the lobby earlier.”
“Yeah. I’m with the group. You with the bachelor party?”
He nods. “Unfortunately. I’m Cole.”
“Piper,” she says.
“Listen, I know this sounds weird, but can I borrow your phone for a minute? My grandfather confiscated mine for this sort of... outward bound situation we have going on. And I really need to make a quick call.”
She’s distracted by a fresh, angry-looking bruise on his right cheek.
“I think your face is bleeding,” she says.
“You should see the other guy.” He smiles, and she resists the impulse to tell him no, seriously, he’d better get some ice on his cheek.
“So can I use your phone?” he says.
She hesitates.
“Look,” he says, “I’m not a psycho. I promise. My family is just a big pain in the ass. And I need to make a call.”
Fair enough. He seems harmless. Plus, he’s injured.
She hands over her phone.
“Thank you. You’re amazing. I’ll be right back.”
He turns toward the water and walks a few yards away. She feels twitchy without her phone. The wind picks up, and she glances back at the inn. Laura is still in her spot, but Kalli has moved to the promenade. Laurel must sense her gaze, becauseshe turns and gives her a wave. Piper waves back, feeling a stab of guilt for ditching her mother. Maybe she should head back to the walking tour after all.
