Once that was all handled the new shipment arrived. Light shoes, swimsuits, summer wear in general, the things she wanted displayed. Octavia wouldn’t buy more than ten of each item and those sizes were select and popular. If anyone wore something larger than an eight they shouldn’t step foot inside this place. She carried double zeros, up to size eight, and only one size eight per item.

I thought it was a little elitist and exclusive, which was exactly what Octavia was. This was an elitist and exclusive store. The more I got to know Octavia through her calls, along with the texts she sent, I realized she thought that way. I myself didn’t exclude anyone, because I didn’t want to be excluded. This, of course, made me wonder about Nate. Who had he become? Someone attracted to that?

I didn’t want to judge him. I knew nothing about their relationship and it was unfair to make assumptions. But I did once know Nate. He was nothing at all like Octavia. He came from privilege and wealth, however, he didn’t act entitled. Currently he was standing on a ladder in the shop putting fancy light bulbs in the chandelier Octavia had him hang.

He hadn’t said much after telling me to call her. Well, actually, Nate hadn’t spoken at all. He’d stayed up front while I worked in the back. We had a moment this morning laughing at my dancing, when I saw that gleam in his eyes. I thought for a second he remembered me. Us. But then he said nothing at all.

I tried not to let that defeat me. I also tried not allowing resurfacing memories to make me sad, spiteful and angry. There’d been a connection, that connection was gone, I would never experience it again. My experience with men was limited. I thought that was mostly the problem.

“You ready for lunch?” Nate asked. His voice startled me, I flinched, jerking up my head from the bikinis I was displaying.

“What?” I stammered. “Huh?”

He smirked and it was ridiculously attractive. “Do you eat?”

I nodded. What kind of question was that?

“Then are you ready to eat some lunch?”

Oh. He was asking about my lunch break. I rarely took one unless Eli stopped by and Eli wasn’t here. “I guess. I usually don’t stop unless Eli comes and stops me.”

Nate pulled his keys from his pocket. “That’s not healthy. You should eat. Let’s go. I know a place.”

I stood up and stared at him. The keys jingled in his hand. He wanted to take me to lunch? Would Octavia be okay with that?

“Oh, um.” I didn’t know what to say. Although the idea of eating lunch with him and riding in his truck were tempting.

“Stop over thinking it Bliss. Let’s go eat. We’ve earned a lunch.”

I managed a nod and walked over to my purse. This was normal. We worked together. In a way he was my boss. He wanted to take me to lunch.

“Okay.”

“I see you’ve not unpacked the boxes. She must’ve said to send them back.”

“Yeah. She wasn’t happy.”

He chuckled. “I bet she wasn’t.”

There it was. The way he chuckled like he knew her and she amused him. Its warmth, the way he delivered it, the jealousy bit me hard. I hadn’t ever dealt with that before, but now it was here and it was hard. It sucked. What a horrible feeling. The top of my head went numb.

“How long have y’all been together?” I tried to act like it didn’t bother me.

Nate locked up the back and we headed to his truck.

“Since our freshman year of college.”

College. Something else I missed. Actually going to a campus. I’d taken all my classes online and in the fall would complete my courses. Then my student teaching. I hoped the school where I taught would hire me. Elementary education wasn’t in high demand. Not around here it wasn’t. There were too many teachers wanting to teach on the coast. Maybe I could go inland? Perhaps to a poorer county? That’s where teachers were needed most.

“Did you go to college?” he asked. I hated having to answer this. Unless he knew my past and all about the cancer it looked like I’d taken a short cut. Gone for the easy way out. I could explain it, but then, like every other man, he would immediately treat me different. Like I was fragile and consumed with disease. I didn’t want to be the sick girl. I wanted to be normal and this was my chance to finally live like my friends. And if he didn’t remember me, or acknowledge that summer, I would view that as part of the cycle of living a normal life. Though currently it was aggravating.

“Yes,” I replied. That’s all. I then asked “where are we eating?” The subject had to be changed.

“My grandpop’s place. Best shrimp poboys in town.”

I’d eaten there seven years ago. In fact, numerous times. Would his grandpop remember me? I never went back after that summer. It was an off-limits place for me. I hadn’t wanted to go in without my hair and have his grandpop report to Nate, which he probably wouldn’t have done. But my need to preserve our summer and the memory of it had been too important. Every time I passed his place I remembered Nate. I thought about him and wondered if he came to visit his grandfather often. Now I knew.

I wasn’t sure what I should say. If I asked him questions about it then it was like I was lying. I already knew the answers. So, I stayed quiet. He could talk if he wanted.

“Last night at the club, were those your friends?” Thank you Jesus, he was changing the subject.

“For the most part, yes, they were. Some forced upon me since birth. Our parents are all very close. We grew up like family.”

“The drunk girl,” he began and I laughed.

“Saffron. Her dad owns the place. She’s a train wreck most of the time.”

“She asked me to dance. That’s why I left. When I said no as nicely as I could she began to rub my thigh. I like hot women rubbing my thigh, but she was highly intoxicated, and I’m guessing underage.”

I winced. I’d missed that. “She’s nineteen. And stays in trouble. My daddy says that her dad is getting paid back for the hell he raised when he was younger.”

Nate laughed. “Mom used to say the same about me. That I was my dad’s payback.”

The Nate I knew hadn’t been a hell raiser. Those were years I didn’t know.

Nate Finlay

I KNEW GRANDPOP would recognize her. But I was going to take her there anyway. This was impulsive. Possibly stupid. A desire to do something we’d once done that would make her remember me. What we were doing was once our thing. But why did I have to do it? I was the one playing dumb. I knew who was sitting beside me. What she was and what she’d meant. I also didn’t have to remind her. She hadn’t forgotten.

I pulled into the parking lot. Grandpop’s blue 1989 Chevy was parked in the back as usual. I loved that truck. Its sight was comforting, the Chevy seemingly permanent, because the man was always here. And he could force me to admit the past. Unless, I got to him first and asked him not to say a word.

He’d think I was crazy and probably blurt it out. Grandpop hated Octavia. Said she was trouble and a “sure fire divorce”. He’d already been divorced twice. The woman he spent his life with now was a widow and they both agreed marriage was not for them.

“Ever been here?” I asked Bliss, knowing full well she had been. I just wanted to see if she’d be honest.

She stared at the place for a few long seconds before turning her gaze to me. “Yes,” she simply replied. But with that response her eyes lit up and I felt like a dick again. But of course, if I admitted it now, then everything would become difficult.