Local Girls : An Island Summer Novel (9781416564171) (27 page)

“Have you ever gone bridge jumping?” I asked Shelby.

“Yep.” Shelby didn't even look up from her reading.

“Was it scary?”

Shelby dog-eared the page and closed the magazine. “You've never done it?”

I shook my head.

“You've lived here your entire life and you've never gone bridge jumping?”

“Why? Should I?”

“Sure, if you want. It's not that big a deal.”

Shelby went back to reading
Gourmet
and I went back to watching a group of guys climb out onto the bridge railing, count to three, and jump. Even with their wet hair and shirts off, I recognized them. Two guys were in my class and one was a year behind me. Most girls I knew had jumped at some point, although not all made it a regular thing as the guys seemed to do, and even fewer attempted the back flips many of the guys preferred. Bridge jumping was a sort of rite of passage for islanders. Maybe that's why I'd never attempted it. I didn't want to be just another island kid. And the idea of climbing up the guardrail, stepping out on the ledge, and looking out over the water fourteen feet below me was a tad discomforting, to say the least.

I doubted Mona's new friends would ever crawl out onto the railing, much less jump out into the water, their arms and legs flailing as they hit the surface. It wasn't exactly elegant, unless you knew what you were doing. And I didn't. But maybe it was time I learned.

“Shelby?” I stood up and held out my hand, waiting for her to close the magazine and hand it to me.

“What?”

“Let's go bridge jumping.”

The inlet bridge wasn't big; in fact, it almost seemed like part of the road, barely long enough to even create an arch in the pavement. But once I was standing there, my hands gripping the railing as I raised my leg and pulled myself up, it might as well have been the tallest bridge in the world.

“I knew there was a reason I never did this,” I told Shelby, who stood there balanced on the metal railing as if she'd done this a million times before. “You go first.”

“We can jump at the same time, if it will make you feel better.”

The group of guys who'd just jumped were already out of the water and on their way back up to the bridge, so I had to make my decision soon or they'd make it for me.

As tempting as Shelby's offer was, I knew I had to do it alone.

“It's okay, I'll go after you.”

Shelby shrugged, moved her toes so they just hung over the edge of the rail, and looked over her shoulder at me one last time. “See you down there,” she said, then jumped off, wrapped her hands around her knees, and yelled, “Cannonball!”

I peered over the edge, waiting for the splash to settle so I could make sure she came up. A few seconds later Shelby's head emerged.

“Come on!” she called up, treading water to keep from being taken away by the current flowing into the pond. “It's easy.”

I could do it. I had to do it. Every island kid did it at some point and they all survived, life and limb in tact.

“Here I come,” I yelled back, holding my arms out to help me keep my balance. I looked down one last time, telling myself it was no big deal, that it didn't mean anything. Except that I was no longer afraid.

“Geronimo!” I screamed, launching myself out over the water. I squeezed my eyes tight and let myself enjoy the sensation of being airborne.

On Wednesday, my day off, Henry came over to the house to hang out with me. I wasn't really in the mood for company, but he insisted, saying he hadn't seen me in three days and he missed me. He was going stir crazy with the rainy weather and hadn't been able to go fishing all week. Instead, he just sat around Malcolm's house watching TV. Besides, the party planner's staff was all over the house, setting things up for Malcolm's birthday party on Saturday, and everywhere Henry went someone was moving a chair or setting up a table or rearranging furniture.

“I wish you'd come to Nantucket with us on Sunday, it wasn't the same without you,” Henry told me as we lay on my bed flipping through channels. He was convinced we could find one of those classic monster movies we used to watch.

“Shelby and I ended up going bridge jumping.” For some reason I hadn't wanted to tell Henry when I talked to him Sunday night, I just wanted to keep it to myself, savor the feeling of jumping, the sound of Shelby clapping when I came up for air after doing what she called the least flattering jump she'd ever seen.

“Nice.” He seemed impressed. “What'd you think?”

“Not bad.”

“Not bad?”

“Kinda fun.”

“Kinda fun?” he repeated. “How many times did you go?”

“Seven.”

“Yeah, sounds kinda fun to me.” Henry reached around my waist, but I rolled out of his grasp.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Why's this still here?” Henry held up the culinary school brochure on my night table. “Shelby wasn't interested?”

“I haven't shown it to her.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know, I was just thinking maybe she's happy where she is. Or maybe she isn't really good enough to get into a school like that.”

“Come on, you said she's amazing. I've had her cookies, she
is
amazing.”

“Maybe that's why she should stay at the Willow. Maybe she's meant to make the best breakfast on the Vineyard. Doesn't the
Gazette
have a contest every year for best breakfast on the island?” I improvised.

“Come on, you don't really believe that, do you?”

I shrugged. “I thought I read it in one of the issues Lexi brought home last year.”

“That's not what I meant, Kendra.” Henry opened the brochure and started reading from it. “For over fifty years the Boston Culinary Institute has been educating the world's finest chefs. Our students excel in paid internships in some
of the most respected restaurants, and our graduates create exciting culinary delights wherever they go.”

“I know, Henry. I know. I've read the brochure.”

He put the brochure down and turned over to face me. “Then what's going on, Kendra?”

How could I possibly explain it to Henry so that he'd understand? How could I explain that I'd already lost one friend and I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of losing another one? That when Henry went back to Boston in a few weeks I'd be left behind again? If Shelby was around, at least I wouldn't feel so alone.

“Look, Henry, let's drop it, okay?”

“Have I done something wrong, because you don't seem all that glad to have me here.”

“It's not you. It's probably just the weather.”

“Then smile, okay?” He put his hand under my chin and lifted it up, waiting for me to smile. I obliged and Henry slipped his arm around my shoulder.

“So, the party starts at seven on Saturday, but you can come over whenever you want.”

“I don't know, Henry. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I mean, there's the whole Mona thing and I won't even know anybody.”

“You're going to know people,” he insisted.

“Are you and Mona both inviting friends?”

“Well, I'd like to think you were more than a friend, but no. I think you're the only one who isn't actually a friend of my mom and Malcolm's. But you'll know them, and besides, so what if you don't know anyone. I'll be there. Don't worry about Mona, we had a talk.”

They'd had a talk, like that was supposed to make everything
all better. It obviously didn't, because she hadn't called to talk to me. She obviously didn't think we needed to have a talk. Two months and the only words she'd spoken to me had been when she called me a liar. The summer was almost over and she'd be leaving and apparently she was content to let it end like that. After ten years, she was willing to walk away thinking I was a liar.

It had been raining all week, and all week Lexi had been stomping around the house at night slamming kitchen cabinets and sitting in the family room watching TV, cursing the Weather Channel anchors under her breath.

“This sucks,” she said every night just before tossing the remote control onto the coffee table and leaving the room.

So when Lexi came home early Thursday night and parked herself at the kitchen table with the register tape from the last four days, I wasn't exactly surprised to hear her muttering four-letter words under her breath.

“What?” Lexi snapped at me when I sat down at the table, distracting her from her receipts.

“What?”

“What are you looking at, Kendra?”

“My bowl of trail mix?”

Lexi wasn't convinced. “I know what you're thinking, Kendra.”

“What am I thinking, Lexi?” Besides that she was as nutty as the stuff in my bowl.

Lexi began tapping her pencil on the table, which was annoying, but not nearly as annoying as the way she was watching me. “You think I'm dumb, Kendra.” She tapped the pencil so hard, the tip broke off and shot across the room.

I picked an M&M out of my bowl and popped it into my mouth. “I never said you were dumb, Lexi.”

“I know what you think of me, Kendra. I put up with your crap, but I know.” She pushed the receipts away from her and leaned forward. “Do you think I want to be living with my parents? Or that it's fun sleeping in the same full-size bed you had when you were twelve? Well, let me tell you, it's not.”

“I never said it was.”

“Please.”

“And if it's so horrible, then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to create something, Kendra, I'd like to build something that lasts, something that Bart and I can be proud of.” Lexi pushed her chair back and stood up, standing there and staring at me like she was working up to something. “This is something I can be proud of, Kendra, even if you think it's just a freaking deli.”

And with that, she stomped out of the room.

The rest of the night I steered clear of Lexi, for obvious reasons. It wasn't hard; after she left me with my bowl of trail mix Lexi made herself scarce. She never even came back to clean up the receipts on the table, which was why I took the long white strip and wound it into a tight roll. I glanced at the numbers, but they didn't mean anything to me, even though I was sure Lexi could probably recite every sandwich associated with each digit.

When I'd found the broken pencil tip and thrown it away, I brought the receipt roll into the family room, where my dad was reading the paper.

“Is it that bad?” I'd asked my dad, handing over the roll. “Lexi's losing it.”

“It's not bad,” he told me. “It's just not great. The weather really affects the number of sandwiches we sell. If people can't go to the beach they don't need to pack a lunch. They either eat at their rental house or go to a restaurant.”

“But it's just one week,” I pointed out, used to Lexi's melodramatic overreactions.

“Every week counts, Kendra. We were hoping to do a little better than break even this summer.”

That just didn't seem possible, given the line I stood in last week.

“That's it? You guys keep saying the place is packed. People are dropping forty dollars on lunch.”

“Yeah, but there were the start-up costs and you have to remember, the rest of the year we're lucky if we can just cover our costs.”

“So Lexi isn't overreacting?”

“I'm not saying that, I'm just saying you need to cut her some slack. This isn't a paper route, Kendra. This is a huge investment for all of us. Lexi just wears her feelings on her sleeve.”

Without actually saying it, I knew what my dad meant. That he and my mom were just as concerned as Lexi, they just did a better job of hiding it. Probably because they were parents and that's what they were supposed to do. But it had to be just as difficult for them, taking a chance on something new when they could have easily turned Lexi down, decided to pass on an opportunity because there was no guarantee.

Suddenly I understood that our whole family had a lot riding on this. It was the first time I realized that maybe Lexi's decision wasn't safe. It wasn't easy. It was a huge risk for everyone, my parents, Lexi and Bart, even me. And it wasn't
just the threat of failing financially, because my dad could still go back to the post office, Bart could go back to landscaping, and Lexi could find something she could do. It was bigger than that. It was building something my entire family could feel good about, like we'd succeeded even though the odds had been against us.

“I'm going upstairs,” I told my dad.

“Okay, Kendra.” He squeezed my hand but didn't let go when I tried to leave. “Hey, I'm sorry I didn't know about Henry and Mona, or even who Shelby was. We all should have realized what was going on, asked more questions about your job.”

“It's okay, I understand. It's been a busy summer.”

He smiled at me and let go of my hand. “At least it sounds like you made a new friend at work.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” I turned to go upstairs, but not before looking back at my dad. “Hey, Dad? I think it's supposed to stop raining soon.”

“Let's hope so, Kendra,” he told me. “Let's hope so.”

Finally, Friday night, when the satellite photos showed no more rain in the forecast, the look on Lexi's face matched the little smiling sun in the corner of the TV screen. Saturday morning she was back to her normal self, whistling as she showered, and I was the one who was watching the Weather Channel while I ate my cereal before work. Although I told my mom I wanted to see what the weather was going to be like for Malcolm's birthday party, I knew that Izzy had enough tents to protect all one hundred guests from any rain. I was really crossing my fingers for the deli and hoping the weatherman wasn't wrong.