The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel (7 page)

Suddenly, he was no longer at the square. He stood on the dock instead, watching the girl go. Her soft hair lifted in the breeze, her long and tanned legs carried her away from him. But wait. What was happening? Someone—or something—grabbed her and began dragging her toward the ferry. She struggled, freeing one arm enough to turn and reach out to him, eyes sharp with terror. “Clancy! Help me! Please!”

Time to wake up. Now.

He gasped, a desperate rush of air slamming into his lungs as he shot upright. Clancy was in his own bed, in the dark, the sound of the sea crashing nearby and the ceiling fan whirring above. He touched his chest, neck, and face, finding his bare skin dripping with sweat. Or was it fountain spray? His heart thudded behind his ribs.

Clancy threw off the sheet and stumbled into the bathroom, where he flipped on the light and threw cold water on his face. He tried to shake the dream, the vision of the metallic mermaid towering over him, alive but unmoving. And all that crap she’d said! Enemy? She was a statue, not an enemy. He was facing the most important decision of his life? Please.

And what about the girl calling out for help? How bizarre. He almost felt guilty, like he’d let her down somehow.

Shit.
Once festival week was over, he would be going back to decaf.

Clancy stood in front of his mirror, hands on the edge
of the sink, trying to catch his breath. He heard the brisk clicking of dog paws on hardwood and a rhythmic panting—which turned out to be his, not the dogs’.

“It’s okay, boys. Go back to sleep.”

They sat in the open doorway. Tripod yawned first, then Earl. They blinked at him like he was nuts for being up so early. And, hey, since it was only five a.m., they had a point. And as far as him being nuts was concerned? Maybe they nailed that one, too, because normal men don’t have nightmares about talking mermaid statues.

“Go to your bed, fellas.”

They did, tails swinging wildly, excited to be alive—like every Lab Clancy ever had the pleasure to know.

Just then, his police radio crackled to life on the bedroom nightstand. Within ten minutes, he was behind the wheel of his Jeep, chugging coffee, driving through the dark toward a rental house on the north shore. Doug Lukovich had called for his assistance with a domestic dispute with minor injuries. Was that the perfect kickoff to festival week, or what?

Clancy raised his mug for a mock toast. “Here’s to true love,” he said. “Here’s to the magical mermaid of Bayberry Island!”

Eighteen years ago . . .

M
ickey usually did a halfway decent job picking out the tourist cuties, and the new crop was no exception. Clancy spotted four girls off to one side and two guys standing around looking lost. Somebody’s brother always seemed to tag along, unfortunately. He did the math. Clancy and five of his friends had to divvy up four girls. The ratio didn’t bother him too much. If nobody seemed worth spending time with, he’d just head back to Haven Beach and get something to eat.

His eyes made a quick sweep over the options. He saw her right away. His stomach got all nervous and tingly. Clancy decided to save her for last after he’d checked out the other girls. One was blond and smiley and looked like trouble but he had a feeling she was way too young. The girl with pale skin and red hair was gorgeous, but Clancy figured she’d be burned to a crisp by tomorrow and wouldn’t be much fun for the rest of the week. Another girl had long blond hair and a perfect body, and he could already tell by the way she stood there looking bored that she thought she was too good for anyone. He’d pass.

Clancy went back to the one who had first caught his
attention. She was about his height, fairly thin, but athletic. She probably played volleyball, or maybe lacrosse. She wore a pink and orange Hawaiian print bikini that showed off her shape but didn’t make her look like she was trying too hard. She had long and curly light brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. He decided he liked the curve of her neck—it was really graceful looking. And then she turned to face him.

Oh, man. What a face! She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life. And those eyes . . . he’d have to be standing right in front of her to decide what color they were, but from his position halfway down the dune they looked see-through green, like an old-fashioned soda bottle, no, wait . . . he’d just come within about three feet of her, and decided she had eyes the color of sea glass.

Since he didn’t want to be an uncool dweeb and just stare at her, Clancy gave a quick nod of his chin and said, “Hey,” then headed over to Mickey. Clancy didn’t speak to her while the group walked to the lighthouse ruins, but he felt her nearby and knew her eyes were on him. It was kind of a weird sensation, not one he’d ever had before with a girl. He felt her even when he couldn’t see her.

The ruins were Mickey’s favorite forbidden spot. Technically, it was on the outer edge of the wildlife refuge, and it was known for its heavy surf and wicked dangerous rocks. Duncan always said only serious athletes should even try to swim near the ruins, but Clancy ignored him. His brother was now training for triathlons and distance swimming events and thought he was some hot-shit superhero or something.

Kids who had towels or sunglasses tossed them onto the dune before they got in the water. Clancy kicked off his sandals and followed close behind. He swam out toward Mickey and immediately started messing with him. “That blond girl is jailbait.”

“Yeah? Well, she told me she’s thirteen, asshole.” Mickey smacked him in the face with a decent amount of seawater.

“She’s bullshitting you.” Clancy returned the favor.

He let it slide, and swam away. He needed to clear his head. His parents were fighting about money again and he couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting somebody dressed like a mermaid, and he just wanted to hide until festival week was over. It had been a good three years since he actually had any fun during the Mermaid Festival. Now it was just
work
—his parents called it doing them favors . . . do stuff for his mom’s goofy group or to help his dad with city and festival duties.
Help me real quick with the copying. Do the dishes for me—we’re having an emergency meeting. Give me a hand with the clambake setup, would you? And could you run down to the warehouse and get . . .

Clancy suddenly became aware that the current had carried him pretty far offshore while he wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t worry him—he’d been swimming in the Atlantic since before he was out of diapers, and knew exactly how to handle the situation. He began a leisurely, but steady, freestyle stroke parallel to the shore. Once he passed the rocks he knew he could make a direct turn toward land and encounter no resistance from the current.

He heard the kids shouting but didn’t pay much attention to them. Mickey was fun, but he could be loud and obnoxious sometimes and he just wore Clancy out. His mom had once commented that the three friends were like the Three Little Bears—Chip was too soft, Mickey too hard, and Clancy just right.

Yeah, well, all moms said shit like that about their own kids.

In a watery distortion of sound, he thought he heard his name being called. Clancy lifted his head and saw almost all the group standing on the beach waving their arms and yelling. Something was wrong. He stopped swimming.

“My sister!” The little jailbait girl was hysterical. “She’s caught in the riptide!”

Clancy saw the girl’s head bobbing along with the waves and knew she was on a collision course with the rocks. She’d get smacked around good if nobody helped her.

Ah, shit.

He resumed his freestyle but put on the afterburners. Clancy calculated in his head how many minutes he had before she’d start banging against the rocks. He’d seen kids get mangled up pretty bad by those things, and couldn’t even imagine that pretty face and body of hers covered with gashes and bruises.

Clancy made his cut toward shore. He started flying through the water, the screaming and yelling intensifying. Above all the voices and the roar of the water, he heard a girl’s solo plea.

“I’m in a little trouble over here!”

Clancy nearly laughed at how casual she sounded. She was pretty tough for a girl. Most girls he knew would be buggin’ out the way her little sister was. Clancy reached the girl with only inches to spare before she hit the boulders, immediately flipping her on her back, slipping his arm across her chest and gripping her side. He shoved off from one of the rocks and began a hard-core rescue sidestroke, hauling her skinny little ass out of the rip current. And while he did it, even though this was an actual emergency, he couldn’t help but think about how close his right hand was to her left boob. He considered “accidentally” slipping so he could get a feel, but he thought better of it. The first time he put his hand on a pretty girl’s breast, he wanted it to be because she invited him—or at least at a time when she could tell him to stop if she wanted. Would it be wrong to cop a feel during a crisis? He wasn’t even sure it would count.

Clancy loosened his cross-body carry, only because it was obvious they were out of danger. She slipped from his grasp and floated a few feet away. They stayed there, bobbing together in the sea, staring at each other and gasping for breath.

“Thank you. I owe you one.”

“Na. It was nothing. I do it all the time.”

They both laughed at that.

It got a little awkward after they finished laughing. Clancy didn’t even know her name and he suddenly found that he’d lost his ability to speak.

“I’m Evie,” she said, sticking her hand out above the waves.

“I’m Clancy.” He shook it. Funny how just shaking her hand made him want more—a lot more.

“Awesome,” she said.

“Cool. Let’s swim in.”

It took a few minutes to make it back to shore. It was a high-drama situation, with Evie’s sister in tears and the other girls in a general state of freaking out. Clancy wasn’t into that sort of thing, so he slipped on his sandals and began to walk up the dune. It was so weird, but he knew the exact second Evie started following him. He felt her.

“I’m staying at the Sand Dollar.”

“I live here on Bayberry.”

“I kind of figured you did. So maybe we’ll see each other around this week?”

“I hope so. Later, Evie.”

Clancy walked along Shore Road about a mile until he reached the Safe Haven. The whole way back he couldn’t decide—was the buzz he felt from saving someone’s life, or was it from meeting Evie—touching her skin, talking to her, looking into her eyes, and feeling her even when he couldn’t see her?

He had no friggin’ idea. He’d never saved anyone’s life for real like that, the way Duncan had shown him. And he’d never met anyone quite like her.

God, he wished he knew what to say to a girl as cool and as pretty as Evie.

“I
can’t see her! I can’t see the pretty mermaid!” Chrissy began to jump up and down on the sidewalk. “I want up! Put me on your shoulders, Aunt Cricket!”

Evelyn made a hasty calculation. Rationally, she knew that there were so many kids balanced on so many adult shoulders along the parade route that one little pirate boy wouldn’t draw attention. Besides, she hadn’t seen Clancy Flynn at all.

But she’d taken a quick peek at the morning cable news shows while Christina slept. Though the volume was off, she’d seen all she needed to. As expected, Evelyn’s and Chrissy’s faces and names were now all over the place. So if she put Chrissy on her shoulders she’d be taking a risk.

“I want to do shoulders! Please, Aunt Cricket! I only want to see the mermaid!”

“Okay. Okay.”

She turned around, crouched down, and felt Christina climb on board. They had done this so many times back home—at the beach, at the farm, and hiking in the mountains around Moose Lake—that it was second nature to both of them. With Christina’s hands gripped in hers, Evelyn stood up.

“There she is! There’s the pretty mermaid!”

Evelyn began to move farther back from the street but toward the parade float that had captivated her niece’s attention. At least that way, she’d have several rows of people in front of her along the route.

“What does it say? What are the letters?”

Evelyn smiled at Christina’s question. She was so smart. She loved this little person so much. Without warning, her throat tightened and her chest became overwhelmed with the crush of sadness. Amanda, her beautiful sister, was gone forever, and she would never see her funny, spirited, and intelligent daughter grow up. That was now all Evelyn’s responsibility—and her privilege.

Oh, God! What had she done? If they were caught, she’d never be allowed to see Chrissy again! And that was the exact opposite of what Amanda had asked of her!

Evelyn knew she had to keep it together. She pushed down the sadness and doubt and focused her eyes on the parade float sign. “The letters say that she is the Mermaid Queen of the Safe Haven Bed and Breakfast.”

“What’s that? Is that a castle under the sea? Can we go see her there?”

Evelyn smiled a little, thinking that the bed and breakfast’s owners had such a fearless sense of parade- float design that God knew what the inside of the place would look like. The Safe Haven float was a flatbed version of a Johnny Weir figure-skating costume. It was blinged-out with glitter, rhinestones, and even a few oversized feathers adding pizzazz to the display of sea grass and giant fake shells. She answered Christina. “Bed- and-breakfasts are like hotels. Maybe we can visit there.”

“She’s so pretty! Is she Ariel?”

The woman sitting in the huge, sparkly clamshell waved like a princess, smiled like a beauty queen, and tossed candy to the kids lining the Main Street curb. Christina was right—she was very pretty, even in the shell bikini top, skintight mermaid tail, and overly long wig.

“I don’t know her name, sweetie. Maybe she really is the Little Mermaid.”

Just then, the mermaid queen turned to smile at the parade float directly behind her. Large script along its side advertised The Oceanaire Foundation, whatever that was, but the mermaid wasn’t smiling at the elaborate marine-life decorations. She smiled at the devastatingly handsome sea captain at the helm of the float, and he smiled back.

Clearly, those two were an item. Maybe Evelyn was getting caught up in the vibe of the Mermaid Festival, but seeing how the couple looked at each other made her sigh. Perhaps one day she would look at a man like that, reminding him that she was all his, that her heart was fully open to him alone, and that with him she was exactly where she belonged.

Evelyn’s eyes widened behind her shades. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was her brain going in that direction? She had never gotten carried away with love and she’d certainly never looked at a man the way the mermaid just did. Not her boyfriends in college, not the few men she’d had relationships with since, and certainly not in her six years with Rory.

Rory Sobrato wasn’t the type of man who inspired surrender. Well, to be fair, Evelyn wasn’t exactly the type of woman who felt like surrendering.

Wait. That wasn’t entirely true. Once, she had been the surrendering type. Back when she was a kid. Right here on this island. With Clancy Flynn. Before she knew better.

At that instant, her body flared with an electric charge—a warning. A quick scan of her surroundings brought her eye to eye with the police chief.

He flashed a genuine smile, then motioned for her to stay put. Evelyn pretended she hadn’t seen him, shifting her attention to the Falmouth High School marching band and its jarring rendition of “U Can’t Touch This.” Without warning, she pulled Christina from her shoulders, set her on her feet, then took her by the hand.

“No! I want to see! I want shoulders!”

Evelyn tried her best not to show her anxiety. “In a minute, Chris. We’re going over here. Maybe we can see the parade better.”

“I see it better when we do shoulders!”

Evelyn soon realized she’d dragged them into a crowded area of the public dock, where she was unable to make much progress through the throng. But she needed to stay focused. Not only did she have to avoid Clancy, but she needed to make sure Christina remained right next to her in the middle of all these people.

“Let me go!”

“In a minute, Jellybean.”

Evelyn turned her head to the right. Dammit! There he was, heading in their direction. She ducked, pulling Christina along. She could see nothing but the hairy knees and sandals of tourists.

Chrissy began crying. “No! No! Take me back to the mermaid, Aunt Cricket!”

“That’s where we’re going. There are a lot more mermaids coming in the parade.”

“No! I want that one! The pretty one!”

She straightened, picked up Christina, and propped her on her hip. Evelyn pulled on the canvas brim hat, ensuring that it hid at least part of the side of her face. “You need to be patient. It’s very crowded and I’m trying to get us to a better spot to watch the parade.”

The little girl glared at Evelyn. A deep furrow appeared between Christina’s one brown eye and her pirate patch. “I don’t like it when you do that.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, Pirate Jellybean.” Evelyn gave her a peck on her cheek and hugged her. “Now, how about we head over—”

“Excuse me.”

She stopped. Her heart sank.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!

Christina announced with a cheerful voice, “It’s the policemans!”

As she turned toward the deep, friendly voice, she pasted on a smile. “Well, hello,” she said, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hello to you, too. Are you enjoying the parade?”

Christina nodded. “I saw the pretty mermaid!”

Clancy laughed, smiling down at the little girl. “Yeah, there are quite a few of those here today, aren’t there?” He turned his attention to Evelyn, and shook his head. “You know, for a minute there I thought you were running from the law.”

Her blood froze. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“That’s a joke.” He studied her for a second. “I could have sworn you saw me back there. It was almost as if you were trying to avoid me.”

“Of course not!” Evelyn’s mind was buzzing with chaos. Oh, God. This was it. He was going to arrest her.

But Clancy’s body seemed to relax, and his eyes crinkled with delight. “I have something I wanted to give to Pirate Jellybean.”

“You mean you’re not . . . ?” She had to have misunderstood him, which would be an easy thing to do over the high school band’s rendition of M.C. Hammer and the hammering of her own heart. “I’m sorry, but what did you say?”

He raised his voice. “I said that your pirate might need this to protect himself out on the high seas.” With as much flourish as he could produce in the crowd, Clancy held out a cheap plastic sword with a scabbard and jewel-covered belt.

Christina’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened with delight. “That’s for me?”

Clancy nodded. “You’re the only little boy pirate standing in front of me right now, right?”

She nodded. “I want to wear it!”

“Here you go, big guy.”

Evelyn touched Clancy’s arm to stop him. As soon as she did it, she knew it was an incredibly stupid move. But
there she was, with her hand on the short sleeve of Clancy’s uniform shirt, his body heat spreading into her palm. She’d only wanted to tell him they couldn’t accept the gift but her brain buzzed with remembered sensations, each one as fresh and sharp as if it had happened only moments ago. She saw the handsome boy’s smile flashing in the sun, heard the rumble of his laughter, watched how he ran effortlessly through the sand, and remembered that tentative touch of his lips against hers the first time they kissed. But most of all, she felt that long, tight hug he’d given her right on this very dock, just before she boarded the ferry. He’d grabbed her like he hadn’t wanted her to go.

Evelyn drew in a big breath, then pulled her hand away like she’d been burned.

Clancy looked equally stunned.

She had no idea how long they stood like that, just gazing at each other. Maybe a few seconds, maybe a couple minutes. But while it was happening, the world receded around them, sounds dampened, sights dulled. The only thing that existed was a rush of energy filling the space between them and swirling around them.

Evelyn forced herself to snap out of it. She tried to pinpoint what was wrong, because something was most definitely wrong.

Christina!

She spun around. The little girl was nowhere to be seen. Evelyn scanned the crowd, focused on a level about three and a half feet above the ground. She was desperate for a flash of the red pirate bandanna or the sword, or the sweet curve of a little sun-browned arm, or the Nikes with neon green laces.

“Oh, my God!”

Clancy was at her side.

“We’ll find him. It’s okay. He’s got to be close.”

Evelyn paid no attention to him, and began to run. But she was grateful for the reminder—she had been on the verge of calling out the name Christina, which only would
have added to the disaster. She ran, pushing through people, spinning, weaving, and all the while her heart was exploding with self-loathing. How could she? How could she have been playing googly-eyes with that man while Christina ran off?

The mermaid. She probably ran after the mermaid.

“Oh, shit.”

Evelyn stopped at the sound of Clancy’s voice. She jerked her head to follow the direction of his gaze and saw her niece, balanced precariously on the middle railing at the edge of the dock. Both of them were already running toward her.

“Chris!” Evelyn screamed.

Christina didn’t hear her. She was busy waving her new sword over her head, shouting out warnings to some imaginary foe at sea. Her niece’s body stretched farther, her knees pushing against the middle rail while the rest of her tilted over the water.

“Chris!”

She tumbled over, just inches from Evelyn’s grasp.

“Stay.” Clancy had already removed his utility belt and dropped it to the deck. “I’ve got him.”

“No!” As Evelyn shrugged off her small daypack, Clancy balanced a hand on the top rail and pivoted his body into the water. She was right behind him. Evelyn hit the surface, shocked by the temperature, salt water stinging her open eyes, panic threatening to overwhelm her. She would not let it. She would find Christina.

She took a big gulp of air, diving down into the churning green sea, her eyes bulging, searching for any sign of Christina’s small body. At least her niece knew how to swim. She was a good swimmer for a four-year-old. Amanda and Evelyn had made sure of that, taking her out into the shallow part of the lake, right off the beach, before she’d even turned one. But Moose Lake wasn’t the Atlantic, and Evelyn began to choke with fear, still swimming, still digging through the water, deeper, but
nothing . . . Her lungs burned with pain and pressure. She had no choice but to get more oxygen.

She broke the surface, gulping air, and was about to go under again when she heard a man’s voice.

“I’ve got him! He’s okay!”

Evelyn twisted around in the water in time to see Clancy handing Christina over to another police officer reaching from the dock. Though immediately relieved beyond measure, she swam as fast as she’d ever done the freestyle in her life, her only objective to get to her niece.

“Let me help you, Cricket. I got you.”

Clancy had already pulled himself onto the dock and was seated on the edge, holding out his hand to her. She gripped her fingers around his muscular wrist as he grasped hers. He pulled her up from the water, and though Evelyn tried to get leverage on the dock with her foot, she slipped. He grabbed her, and for a moment she was caught there, tight against him, body to body, his lips an inch from her own. Evelyn felt his warm breath brush her face. His body pressed into hers and she felt him—firm and solid. She remembered him. Oh, God, even for that brief flash of contact, it was as if those eighteen years had never happened.

This was not good.

She twisted from his grasp and reached for the lowest rail, pulling herself up and swinging her body through onto the dock. And then, finally, she had her arms around Christina.

“Are you all right?”

Through the sobs she managed a singular, loud, “No!”

Evelyn’s heart nearly burst. “Where are you hurt?”

“No! My sword! My sword is in the water!”

“He seems to be fine.” That was the second police officer, now crouching nearby. Evelyn swore he looked familiar too. She must be hallucinating. “I’ve called the rescue squad as a precaution. Do you want to get him to the hospital on Nantucket and have him checked out?”

“My new sword!” Christina yelled out.

Evelyn loosened her grip on her niece and held her out in front of her. “Did you swallow any water?”

“My pretty new sword! My pirate costume!”

That’s when Evelyn noticed Christina was missing her bandanna, and eye patch, and one of her shoes. Thank God her breeches had stayed on, since her niece chose a pair of pink-flowered underpants that morning.