If At First

Part 10 - Chapter 9

9

Despite my objection, Wednesday morning reared its persistent head, shining beautifully through the curtains that were wrenched open by Beverly, who was now accustomed to my habits, and was humming cheerily through the room.

"Morning, Beverly."

"Mor-ning. Breakfast is ready downstairs, and your grandmother asked me to remind you of your dinner plans this evening."

"I remember." I said. "Hey Bev?"

"Hhmmm?"

"So, do...do I need to do anything special for this dinner, or do I just show up? I'm kind of new to this." I asked awkwardly, hoping to have found a confidante.

"Oh, sweetie! The things you say!" She giggled and hummed out of the room, her new shoes squeaking on the hardwood.

Thanks, Beverly.

It had been weeks since I checked my email, and because I actually did forget the charger for my phone -which was currently borrowing a boost from Brian - plus the whole lack of cell phone towers here, it would be the most logical way to contact me should anyone be tempted.

However when it came a computer, or for that matter, any technology newer than a VCR, I was forced to search outside my grandmother's walls for some kind of public facility providing such things. I headed for town, knowing the coffee shop had a public computer so I could distract myself from the mental anguish of anticipating tonight's dinner.

My habitual evening runs were the only other time I visited the streets of Townsend, but by then they were always peaceful. I walked quickly through the bustling crowds, careful not to make eye contact. When I was just outside the small coffee shop on the corner, my name was called.

At first I pretended not to hear, but the voice only got louder and a few people turned to stare. I stopped at the curb, reluctantly looking up to see who it was. Fitch Malory was crossing the street in my direction. The sun had lightened his dirty-blondish hair, and his face was tan. He was handsomer than I remembered.

"Tabitha." He said again, slightly out of breath as he approached. How long had he been running? He looked like he was in decent shape, but he wasn't dressed for exercise.

"Hi Fitch," I said casually, trying in vain to keep my head down so no one else would know who he was talking to.

"I've been meaning to give you a call." He winked. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight. There's a bonfire over on Pete's beach."

"Did you just wink at me?"

He looked disconcerted for a fleeting moment before saying, slightly more insistently, "Yeah. Come on, it'll be fun. Just a few of us you know, not a big deal."

"Tonight?"

"Pick you up at 8?" It sounded like a question, but there was definitely a command in his voice.

I heard the bell on the door behind me chime, and Fitch looked up briefly.

At least I had a valid excuse. "I have plans tonight Fitch, sorry."

"'Plans?'" He sounded like I just told him I'd rather break my own pinky. I would.

"Another time maybe." I don't know why I couldn't bring myself to give him a flat out rejection.

He watched me doubtfully. "You're messing with me." He smiled, "I'll be by your place around ten, then."

"No, really, I-"