From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, July 4, 2013 7:18 AM
Subject: (no subject)
I’m running a few minutes late, but I’ll see you down there. I can only assume you’ll be the one with the mustache…
They agreed to meet at the harbor in an hour.
Graham went to get a few things in town, including the keys for the Go Fish from the prop trailer, while Ellie fumbled around on her computer, trying to plot the course from Henley to Kennebunkport. From what she could tell, if they made good time, they could be there in just over two hours. It wasn’t yet seven o’clock, so even if the news broke early, they should still be able to beat it there.
Outside, the sky already had the makings of a perfect summer day, and the water stretched out as wide and still as a great blue carpet. As Ellie walked into town, her backpack heavy on her shoulders, she counted the merits of their plan in the same way she might count the benefits of an extra ice-cream cone (calcium) or a few extra minutes of sleep (energy). There were a dozen ways she could try to justify taking the boat, but mainly, they were avoiding the biggest snag in Ellie’s previous scheme: the fact that she’d have to somehow borrow Mom’s car. She’d still been working out how to handle that particular issue when Graham had shown up, all confidence and conviction, and she’d let herself get carried away with him.
The truth was, it didn’t matter how she got there: by car or by boat or by high-flying hot-air balloon. No matter how she arrived, the ending would be the same: she’d have to face her father. And the idea of standing before him as he tried to register just who exactly she was—a look of confusion in his eyes, or worse, something even more dismissive, a look of annoyance—was almost too painful to contemplate.
Her reason for going was simple: she was planning to ask him for money. But she also knew it was a lot more complicated than that.
Closer to town, the road dipped away from the trees, curving toward the water, and where the air would normally be filled with the sounds of boats—the deep pealing bells and the blaring of the horns—there was now only the discordant notes of the band as they cued up on the green. From a distance, Ellie could see a blur of red, white, and blue, the usual chaos of food and music and games that colored the festivities, and she was counting on all of that to distract Mom later on, when it would no doubt occur to her that she hadn’t seen her daughter all day.
As she stepped onto the long boardwalk, hurrying past the shuttered bait shop, she craned her neck to see if Graham was already out on the boat. The film crew had been given a prime slip for the duration of their shoot, and Ellie knew the trickiest part would be getting out of the harbor unnoticed. The whole town would be up in the village, but it wouldn’t be long now before some of them would begin to load up their own boats. Today was a day for sailing and drinking, for bobbing out under the blazing sun until the sky flipped over into dark and the fireworks were sent scribbling out over all of it. For now, she took comfort in the fact that even if someone saw them, they would never guess their plan; it was only her mom she had to worry about.
Near the gated entrance to the harbor, Ellie was startled to see Quinn up ahead on the road. It was disorienting to run into her here, in this of all moments, and she couldn’t help feeling unprepared. They were far enough apart that she could have pretended not to notice her. But when their eyes met, she saw the slightest hitch in Quinn’s step, the smallest pause in her momentum. Ellie offered her a smile, and she came to a reluctant stop just a few feet away, the two of them regarding each other across the bed of yellow flowers that separated the boardwalk from the road that ran parallel to it.
“Hi,” Ellie said, and Quinn yielded a polite smile. She was wearing a blue shirt from Sprinkles, and it took only a moment for Ellie to realize which one it was.
“You got the stain out,” she said with a grin, and something flickered to life behind Quinn’s eyes where before there had been only a carefully maintained coolness.
“It’s not great,” she said, holding out the hem to examine it. “But my other ones were dirty.” When she looked up again, she seemed to be considering something. “I still have to give yours back.”
“Keep it,” Ellie told her, and she smiled—this time, for real. “It’s the least I can do as your wardrobe specialist.”
“That day was sort of a mess,” she said, and Ellie knew she was talking about more than just the milkshake. She was talking about all of it, everything that had happened since the movie trailers had arrived in town.
“Listen…” Ellie began, but Quinn interrupted her.
“You’ll be at the party later, right?” she asked, her voice light. They’d gone together ever since they were little, year after year spent running through the green with a cupcake in one hand and a sparkler in the other. When they were ten, they stole a whole box of firecrackers and slipped down to the beach at the end of the night, setting them off one by one, and it had since become a tradition. Because of all that had happened this summer, Ellie had assumed this would be the year it would end. But now, the way Quinn was looking at her, she wasn’t so sure.
She glanced off toward the boats. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, surprised to discover that her throat was tight. She wished she could tell Quinn where she was going. It had always been the two of them through everything—every adventure and every expedition—and now there was this awful distance between them, and she tried not to think about all the stories they were missing out on, all the little moments and bigger milestones that had happened over the past few weeks without the other knowing.
Quinn furrowed her brow. “You don’t know?”
“I have to run an errand,” she said, which was as close to the truth as she could manage. “But hopefully I’ll make it back in time.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie could see Graham approaching from the opposite direction, and she was relieved when he turned toward the boat. Her eyes slid back to Quinn. “You’ll be there?”
She nodded.
“With Devon?”
“Of course,” she said, her tone abrupt, but then she caught herself, hesitating for a beat before inclining her head. “And Graham?”
“I don’t know,” Ellie said honestly.
Quinn looked thoughtful, her features void of the sharpness that had lately become so routine when they were together. “Well, maybe we’ll meet up.”
“I hope so,” Ellie said, trying not to sound too eager. But she was overcome by a sudden and powerful wish for things to go back to how they used to be. She wanted to stand on the beach and watch the firecrackers go twirling out into the darkness. And she wanted Quinn to be at her side. Not this Quinn, exactly, but the old one. She wanted her best friend.
“I’m late,” Quinn said, and to Ellie, this felt like the worst kind of dismissal. “I should go.”
“Okay,” she said. “It was really good to see you.”
The expression on Quinn’s face was difficult to read, and it took a long time for her to respond, so long that Ellie was certain she wasn’t going to say anything at all. “Your e-mail,” she said finally. “I didn’t get a chance to write back…”
“It’s okay,” Ellie said quickly, and Quinn hesitated for another long moment before nodding, her eyes soft.