But Orion had been adamant it couldn’t have anything to do with him. “I spend all my time with Kora and Chapel, two powerful mediums. If there were any of that old shit hanging around me, they’d have long since sensed it by now.”
I was disappointed at being shot down when I thought I’d deciphered a ghost clue. But I wasn’t all that worried about the texts anymore regardless. My house seemed genuinely free of activity since Kora came by, and that was what mattered most to me. The house felt lighter this morning, less oppressive. But that was probably my imagination, or just a lift in my mood since having Orion in my bed.
“Oh Jesus, fucking tourists.” Paul punched the steering wheel as a swath of automobile and foot traffic forced us to slow a quarter mile before reaching the club. “I love summer but I hate summer, you know?”
“What’s wrong?” I said. “Doesn’t this car have super-jacks so we can jump straight over all the traffic?”
He shot me a smirk. “I left them at home. Maybe I can just drive on the sidewalk.”
I chuckled. “I’m actually kind of stunned you became a cop. When we were kids you were always wanting to spray paint swearwords on boulders in the woods. Or break into the candy machines at the arcade.”
“Yes, and you were always my conscience, talking me out of it. Who knows, Varley. Maybe you set me on the right path, and it’s your fault I’m a cop.”
“Nah, I was just a goody two-shoes because I was terrified of getting in trouble with my dad.”
“How is Jasper?”
“He’s doing a lot better, thanks.”
“Glad to hear it. He’s so different now than when we were kids, huh?”
“Yeah. I think he’s experiencing a second adolescence since retiring. The combination of worrying about both him and my kids is driving me to drink.”
“Matthew and Mia are good kids though, right? I used to see them around town, they were always nice and polite.”
“Oh sure, they’re great. Both got into the same college. They go in the fall.”
“Fantastic!”
“Yeah. But you never stop worrying. I’m always scared they’re gonna get hurt or do drugs or have an accident. It’s nonstop.”
“I’m sure they’ll be all right,” Paul said. “If they’ve gotten into college, they can’t be partying too much, right?”
“That’s what I tell myself. But shit. I thought worrying about what they put in their mouths would end once they weren’t babies anymore. But then they become teenagers and you gotta worry about drugs and drinking and what they put in their mouths all over again. It’s exhausting.”
“You raised them right, they’re gonna be just fine. Oh hey, I’m just gonna swing in here and park in the library lot. I can’t sit in this traffic anymore. We can walk the rest of the way.”
I glanced at him. “Library tows cars after closing. But I suppose you don’t have to worry about that.”
Paul grinned as he took a hard left into the lot. “Do I sense judgement in that tone, my friend?”
“Just being your conscience. Like you said.”
He parked the car and gave me the finger. “I’ll make a donation to the library. Will that make you happy?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Can we go drink now?”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s go.”
The boardwalk was packed tonight, and the crowd spilled out onto the beach, playing volleyball and gathering around small campfires. A man chased a little boy down the sand as they tried to get a kite in the air, and a little girl did cartwheels at the water’s edge while her mother watched. A shaggy dog tore gleefully in and out of the water, and up here on the boardwalk, all manner of colorful characters were out and about. A group of children with painted faces danced, juggled, and did acrobatics as bystanders clapped. I thought of Orion, of course, but pretty much everything made me think of Orion today.
Paul continued to grumble about the crowd as we weaved through the bodies, but I didn’t mind all the people for once, in fact I was enjoying it. Everyone was happy, it was a beautiful night, and we were on our way to a beach club, so there wasn’t much to bitch about. I flashed back to the first night I met Orion, after Bonnie dumped me at the restaurant, and I ended up shambling down this same street with my whisky bottle, dodging tourists and lamenting how lousy everything was. But tonight, I felt incredibly light and happy, like nothing could touch me. And that worried me. The last time I’d felt this good—aside from my kids being born—was back in high school, when I first fell in love with Violet.
Shit. Was I falling for Orion like that? I wasn’t averse to the idea. But after having the rug pulled out from under my life not so long ago, I didn’t trust happiness much in general.
But that was part of what created my divorce in the first place. My reluctance to let go and have fun. My need to be in control of everything at every moment, so I’d be ready, ‘just in case’ something went wrong. It was no way to live. And as I’d learned, inflicting that attitude on someone else was the perfect way to drive them away. I needed to be more relaxed and open-minded if I wanted a shot with Orion. Which I did. I already had butterflies, knowing I was going to see him tonight.
Paul and I both bellowed, perhaps unkindly, as a seagull stole a hotdog out of a tourist’s hand. The guy even launched into the air to try and get it back, before the bird flew away. Paul bought the man another hotdog from the cart, which surprised me, especially when he actually paid for it. Perhaps my judgy snark had gotten through.
Despite demonstrating a degree of entitlement, Paul was charming and fun to be around, and the tourists at the hotdog stand seemed to enjoy his banter, including a pretty woman who ruffled his dark hair and told him he had a nice smile. Paul responded by flirting back and asking her name, but that was the end of it, no exchanging numbers or making a date. I wondered why Paul was single, and I was pretty sure I’d end up rudely asking him this question after a couple of rum punches tonight.
Paul was dressed in long shorts and a polo shirt, which was suitable since we’d played golf earlier, but he’d made fun of my outfit, calling me ‘stud muffin’ because I’d spiffed up a bit. I was still fairly casual in jeans and navy short-sleeved button-down, but I’d chosen clothes I knew looked good on me, obviously because I was going to see Orion.
While I’d been okay with the crowds on the boardwalk, when we arrived at Hillock Beach Club, I was disappointed with how many people were packed in there, and my anxiety spiked. Paul had said Thursdays were a big night there, and that he tried to make it every week when he wasn’t working. Ironically, he claimed to have a crush on one of the female dancers.
I tried to get onboard with his enthusiasm, but I was thirty-six, not twenty-six, and I didn’t feel like standing around a bar all night, waiting in line for drinks. Or, if I was one of the lucky ones, sitting on some uncomfortable barstool while Jersey Shore wannabes choked me with cologne.
But, alas, I should have learned something that afternoon, because Paul strolled right past the hostess with a nod and a wink, then said, “We’ve got a table on the beach deck. I always get the same one when I come here, best seat in the place.”