“Liv,” Audrey calls across the parking lot as I make my way to my car. She jogs over to me. “Hey, wait up,” she says when she reaches me, and we walk across the gravel lot together. “So, what did you think about your first day? Ready to throw in the apron?” She smirks.
“No, it was...fun, actually.” I shake my head, still surprised that I enjoyed it as much as I did.
“Okay, I was going to ask you to hang out, but your idea of fun and mine might be a tad different,” she says, pinching her fingers together, making me laugh.
“I guess it was just nice to have something to occupy my mind for a few hours. Something other than—”
“Gabe?”
I exhale a surprised breath that comes out as an awkward laugh. “I was going to say my current situation, but I guess if you want to narrow it down to just one thing...” I say hesitantly.
“What is your current situation?” she asks, just as boldly as before. But when I don’t immediately answer, she squeezes her eyes shut and says, “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s none of my business.” She puts her hands on her hips and squints at me through the afternoon sun. “I just really hope you stay. It’s nice to have a friend here again.”
I laugh and admit, “I really hope I do too. I want to. Things are just complicated right now, that’s all.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I smile softly and sigh. “I don’t even know where to start, Audrey. It’s been complicated for a while.” I give her a telling look and she nods with understanding.
“Want to start with Brandon?” she asks carefully.
I fight the tight feeling in my chest and shake my head. “Not yet.”
She bobs her head. “Okay. Well, why did you leave Raleigh? You didn’t like it?”
“That is a much longer story than this walk.”
“All right, well we’ll save that one for drinks.”
“I’d really like that.”
“Okay”—she spins around and leans against the back of her car—“that just leaves Gabe.”
I laugh softly, trying to think of what to say, but as I do my smile wanes. “He takes beer to the cemetery and drinks it with Brandon. Did you know that?”
Compassion washes over her face. “No.”
“Yeah.” I chew my bottom lip. “And he thinks everyone blames him for what happened.”
“Do you?” she asks with genuine curiosity.
“No. Never.”
“Sorry. I just never really knew what happened between you two. There was talk, but I kept to myself after the accident.”
I shrug and smile over the hurt it still brings me. “I don’t really know. One day you love someone...one day you don’t.”
“Him or you?”
I press my lips together and admit, “Him.”
“I’m sorry, Liv.”
“Well, we’re friends now, so it worked out...I guess.”
“Do you still love him?”
“Oh, I, um...” I smile apprehensively. “It’s complicated.”
“Right.” She gives me a small, sympathetic smile.
Talking to Audrey is surprisingly comfortable. Maybe because she knew me and Gabe before the accident. Maybe because she knew Brandon. Maybe because she was a part of that fateful night. We share a piece of each other’s history.
“Well, you can see how that might cause a slight predicament for me.”
“You know, I’ve seen Gabe in the diner. He doesn’t talk much, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t laugh like he used to. I’ve heard what people say, that it’s a side effect from his head injury. You know how people talk.” She shakes her head reproachfully.
“Yeah. I know.”
“I’m a little embarrassed to say it, but I actually avoided talking to him, because I was never sure what to say, or how he would react. But then he came in with you and he was different. I watched him with you. He talked and smiled and laughed with you. I don’t care what anyone says, he was the Gabe I remember. The boy with the gorgeous smile and a twinkle in his eye for Olivia Dalton. His eyes were glued to you the whole time.”
I can’t help the way my heart is swimming inside my chest, but I know better than to get my hopes up. Gabe and I share a deep history. We grew up together. We lost a brother together. We’ll always be bound by that. And he will always love me in some way, I’m sure. The same way he loved Brandon.
But I do find deep satisfaction in knowing that I’m helping bring Gabe out of the state he’s been in for so long—the one I tried like hell to get him out of after the accident. The one everyone chalks up to his injury. Even if we’re never anything more than friends, I’ll be so damn happy to finally see that through.
“I think I just need a little time to navigate this new chapter of my life. My head has been kind of a mess since I left Raleigh.”
“Speaking of Raleigh,” she says curiously, “how about we go grab that drink now and you can tell me about it? I know a little inn not too far from here that does a great cocktail hour right about now.” She glances at her wrist, though she’s not wearing a watch, and gives me a slanted grin.
I smile over a quiet laugh. “Oh, okay, why not?”
“Que sera,” she says, throwing her hand into the air, “follow me.”
Audrey gets in her car and I follow her to her parents’ inn, which is hidden at the end of a long driveway that winds beneath a canopy of moss-covered live oaks. When I pull into the circular drive behind her, I’m captivated by the beauty of the white colonial-style home that sprawls across the property and stands three stories high against a backdrop of golden marshes. “Wow,” I whisper as I unbuckle.
I’ve always known about the White Magnolia Inn. Everyone on the Island does. It’s a historic landmark that’s been in Audrey’s family for generations. But I haven’t seen it since I was little, and I don’t remember it being so grand.
“Audrey,” I say, getting out of my car, “I forgot how beautiful this place is.”
“Thanks. We’ve done a lot of work on it. There’s still some to do, but we’re getting there.”
I follow her up the sprawling staircase to the second-story porch that spans the length of the house. It’s adorned with black rocking chairs, cushioned hanging swings, and slow-spinning fans that give off a subtle breeze. Large potted palms flank the large windows to the left and right of the screened double doors, and two robust ferns sit atop antique-looking pedestals on either side of them.
Audrey pulls one of the doors open and I follow her inside.
“Hi, Ms. Landry,” she says to an older woman who’s carrying a slice of what looks like key lime pie on a delicate china plate. She’s wearing a perfectly pressed, mint green dress that falls to her knees, a French manicure, and a short salt-and-pepper hairdo that’s undoubtedly held in place by a can of Aqua Net.
“Hey, darlin’,” the woman says warmly, “I was just taking this to your momma. It’s her second slice, but don’t tell her I told you.” She laughs and so does Audrey.
“Your secret’s safe with me. And really, can you blame her? You make the best key lime pie on the Island.”