The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel
“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 t
oward 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.
“We will get you a new sword and everything else. Please answer me—did you swallow water?”
She shook her head, her ultrashort hair flinging out drops of water. “I did what you said and always keep my mouth closed and blow out my nose.”
Evelyn hugged her tight again, but Chris pushed against her. “I want to go home,” she said, her bottom lip trembling.
“Okay, Jellybean. Okay.” Just then, Evelyn realized that though she’d jettisoned her daypack, she’d forgotten to remove her hat and sunglasses before she dove into the water. She smiled at Christina. “Look! I lost my costume, too! We’ll go shopping together!”
Her niece pouted, not convinced.
“All right, kiddo.” Evelyn stood, pulling Christina to a stand. “Let’s go change our clothes.”
“I’ll go with you to Nantucket.”
Evelyn twisted around to see Clancy, soaked to the skin, standing tall and serious, his arm outstretched as he handed her the daypack. In any other circumstance, she would have hugged and kissed him and told him she was indebted to him forever. But all she did was accept the pack and shake her head. “Thanks, but no.”
He looked puzzled.
“I’ll call her doctor at home first. Back in Bloomington.” She grabbed her daypack, slipped it on, and picked up Christina from the boardwalk. Just then she noticed that a small crowd had gathered to watch the drama. “He’s fine,” she said to everyone. “We’re good.”
She turned to go, took one step, and stopped. Evelyn slowly spun around on her squeaky sandals and sought out Clancy. He stood next to his colleague, hair dripping and his uniform clinging to every plane and swell on his gorgeous body, concern in those deep blue eyes, jaw set tight. In that moment she saw all of him—the fourteen-year-old she’d loved, the beautiful man he’d become, the quick-on-his-feet lifesaver, decorated police officer, and Eagle Scout, if only in a manner of speaking. It made her smile.
God, how she wished they’d met again under more normal circumstances.
“I truly thank you, Chief Flynn. For everything.”
She walked away, Christina’s head on her shoulder, both of them weighed down with seawater. She knew in her heart that she’d blown it. Not only had she failed to provide even the most basic safety for Christina, she’d made a spectacle of them both. As soon as they got back to the Sand Dollar, she would examine her niece to make sure she didn’t need medical attention. If she did, so be it. Christina’s health was the most important thing. But the ruse would be over the second doctors discovered she was a girl.
Evelyn would turn herself in.
But if her niece seemed okay, then Evelyn would get her in some dry clothes and start to pack. Either way, they needed to get off this island and go . . . somewhere. Anywhere but here.
* * *
Clancy strolled through the small parking lot and entered the Bayberry Police Department through the back door. As with every other moving part in this nineteenth-century building, finesse was required to get it to function as intended. Clancy jiggled the key while simultaneously lifting upward on the knob and the thick wooden door finally opened.
He took a moment to close his eyes and appreciate the relief of central air-conditioning flowing down the narrow hallway. The evening had turned hot and muggy and rain was in the forecast for tomorrow, which always threw Island Day organizers and vendors into a tizzy. Only minutes ago, an artist had called Clancy’s cell phone to express her disdain for the weather report.
“Isn’t there anything you can do about this?” She sounded completely serious. “As you might imagine, my origami creations don’t fare well in a downpour, and I forgot to bring my plastic rain shields with me from the mainland this year. Does the police department have extras?”
On one hand, Clancy was pleased that Island Day merchants felt comfortable coming to him with their questions and concerns—small-town cooperation was what had made the event so successful over the years. Unfortunately, he had to tell the owner of “Mâché Madness” in Provincetown that the police department didn’t stock rain shields for vendor tents and hadn’t yet found a way to control the climate.
She groaned in frustration and hung up on him.
“You’re two minutes late, great leader.”
Clancy chuckled as he moved through the open doorway of the de
partment’s conference room. “Yeah, sorry about that, Officers.”
Deon raised both his eyebrows. “First day and you already look like you got a beat-down.”
Clancy nodded. “I did, indeed. Chip, you ready with roll call?”
“Yes, Chief Flynn.”
As Chip read aloud every name on the beefed-up police roster, Clancy checked his laptop for bulletin updates. But his mind wasn’t on police work. It was on the lovely, and inexplicably familiar, Cricket. After all the drama at the dock that afternoon, he decided he needed to know a little more about the standoffish visitor. It was simple enough to find out she was staying at the Sand Dollar, and that’s where he’d start in his quest to dig a little deeper. Once he was caught up on paperwork.
Within ten minutes, everyone had been brought up to speed on the day’s events, the status of ongoing investigations, and the two men in the lockup waiting for transport to the mainland. Precisely at seven p.m., Deon and Jake switched over to assigned patrol, Doug and Will were on station duty and would provide backup where it was needed, and Lowell and Cam would be off duty, getting some much-needed sleep. The last item on the agenda was updating the team on the custody-related kidnapping out of Maine.
“Good job today, gentlemen. Everyone have a safe evening. I’ll be in the office a bit longer, then reachable by radio or cell, as always. Chip will handle the overnight roll call. See you tomorrow.” He prepared to head out.
“How’s the little boy from the dock?”
Clancy shrugged, wondering how he would answer Jake. What could he say? That he knew the kid’s aunt but couldn’t figure out how? That the woman had some kind of effect on him? That seeing her today felt like a punch to his gut? “I really don’t know,” was his answer. “Haven’t talked to the kid or his aunt since it happened.”
“He seemed fine,” Chip said. “I got there right after it happened and all the witnesses said the boy popped up and started treading water. Never even panicked. That’s one tough little man.”
Eventually, the room cleared. Clancy wandered down the hall to his office. He put his feet on the desk and rocked back in his chair, hands behind his head. He decided now was the time. He needed to step back, away from the glare. He would soften his gaze and keep his mind occupied with police business. And sooner or later, it would come to him. The Cricket situation would solve itself.