“Sure,” I said. “You’ve been around when things have gone bad around here. I think that means you’re entitled to ask me pretty much anything you want to.”
“Why didn’t you and Nick ever become a couple?”
It wasn’t the question I’d expected. I pulled the elastic free that had been holding my hair in a loose knot to buy a moment of time. “Timing,” I finally said. “The summer we were fifteen I had a crush on Nick and he went to music camp and fell for a flute player, a cellist and a girl who played the bassoon from Nova Scotia. In that order. I came home from college my freshman year at Christmastime madly in love with a poet who wrote long poems with no punctuation or capital letters.”
“You made that last part up,” Mac said with a smile.
I ran a hand through my hair. “You have no idea how much I wish I had. But I didn’t.” I shrugged. “It’s just never been the right time for Nick and me.”
“You’ve both been back here for more than a year now. You’re not seeing anybody, and as far as I can tell, neither is he.”
A piece of a wooden dowel was lying on the floor. I bent down to pick it up. “Everyone wants us to be a couple,” I said. “You’ve probably noticed that. Rose made a point of telling me what great hair Nick has. Charlotte actually worked the fact that he doesn’t snore into a conversation, and they told him that I have good teeth. They’d all be so happy if Nick and I got together.”
Through the open door I heard a vehicle pull into the parking lot.
“Would you?” Mac asked. He glanced outside. “That’s the people Rose sold the bed to on Tuesday. I better go.”
I nodded without speaking and watched him walk across the lot to the middle-aged couple getting out of a red half-ton truck. I thought about Mac’s question and wondered how I would have answered if he’d waited to hear me.
I looked at my watch. I had just enough time to grab Elvis, head home, change and meet Jess for Thursday Night Jam. And Nick, I remembered belatedly.
I was the first to arrive at The Black Bear. I stood just inside the entrance and peeled off my slicker. It had started to rain as Elvis and I were driving home, and I hoped the people who had bought the bed hadn’t had far to go.
Sam waved from across the room and hurried over to wrap me in a hug. “Hi, kiddo,” he said. “I saved you a table.” He was tall and lean, his hair a shaggy salt-and-pepper mix and his beard was clipped close, a concession to the warmer weather. A pair of Dollar Store reading glasses was perched on his head.
Sam Newman not only owned and ran the pub, he’d been my late dad’s best friend. Sam had been making music his whole life, and he’d known my father just about as long. Right after college, before what Sam referred to as the three “M’s”—Mariah (Mom), marriage and the munchkin (me)—my dad and Sam had put together a band called Back Roads. They’d even had a minor hit, “End of Days.” Even though I considered my stepfather, Peter, to be my dad, Sam still took on a kind of fatherly role in my life. I could count on him to be straight with me, and when it came to music and guitars I trusted him more than I did anyone else.
“Thanks,” I said, looking around. There were photos on every wall of the space; Sam with the various bands he’d played in over the years and musicians who had played in the pub, including some celebrities. My favorite was a photo of Sam and my dad that hung behind the bar. They were squinting into the sunshine, grinning, with their arms around each other’s shoulders, and it made me feel good every time I saw it.
The place was already three-quarters full and I knew by the time the band was ready to play there wouldn’t be an empty seat in the house.
“You’re early,” Sam said as he walked me over to a small table with a RESERVED sign on it. “You want supper?”
I nodded. “Please.” My stomach growled loudly for emphasis.
“How about spicy chicken and noodles?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Do you want to wait for Jess?” Sam asked.
I patted my stomach. “No.”
He grinned. “I’ll put your order in.” He turned toward the kitchen and then turned back to me. “I almost forgot. I heard what happened. How’s Rose?”
“She’s fine,” I said. “I’ve been trying to get her to take it easy.”
Sam laughed. “That’s a fool’s errand.”
I laughed as well. “Tell me about it. She either pretends she can’t hear me when I tell her to sit down or she plays the I changed your diapers card.”
“I’ll have to remember that one,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve never changed a diaper in your life.”
He nodded in agreement. “But I have fed you smushed-up peas and I have the photos to prove it. Who knew smushed-up peas could also be used as hair gel?”
“One of these days I’m going to find those pictures,” I warned, shaking a finger at him.
Sam just laughed again. “Are you driving?” he asked.
I nodded. “I am. It’s raining. Why?”
“We have an amber ale from that new microbrewery, Grimcross. I just wanted to get your opinion.”
“Ask Jess,” I said. “She’d be happy to tell you what she thinks.”
“Good idea,” Sam said. “Tina will bring your order when it’s ready.” He headed for the kitchen.
I’d just picked up my fork when Jess slid onto the chair beside me. “I was not meant to live near the water,” she said, shrugging out of a red raincoat, which she draped on the back of the chair.
“Hello to you, too,” I said. “And why were you not meant to live near the water?” I knew Jess didn’t really mean that. She loved being close to the ocean. She wasn’t as fanatical about sailing as Mac was, but she liked to go out a few times each season on one of the big schooners that called the harbor home. I teased her that she’d been a pirate in a past life.
Jess put a hand to her hair. “This,” she said.
“Your hair looks good,” I said. She was wearing it back from her face in a loose braid.
“Well, it was like wrestling with a bear to get it to do anything.” She held up her hands about three feet apart. “When it’s humid, it gets this big.” She peered at the bowl in front of me. “That smells fantastic. What is it?”
“Spicy chicken and noodles,” I said, taking a bite.
“Ooo, I want some,” she said.
I darted my eyes sideways to look at her.
“Don’t worry,” Jess said. “I’m not crazy enough to try and take food away from you.” She looked around the pub, and then I saw Tina making her way across the room toward our table.
I had no idea how Jess did it, but she was always able to get the attention of servers, bartenders and sales associates wherever we were.
“What could I get you?” Tina asked when she reached the table.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Jess said, pointing to my bowl, “with a fried egg on top.”
“What is it with you and fried eggs?” I asked after Tina was on her way to the kitchen.
Jess shrugged. “I like them as long as I don’t have to eat them by themselves.” She reached over and swiped a breadstick from my plate.
“I saw that.”
“I know,” she said before taking a huge bite.
“How was your day?” I dipped the end of the remaining breadstick in the spicy sauce in my bowl.
“Good. Lots of tourists in the shop. No bus tours, but there was a group of people in camper vans traveling together. Did you get any of them at your place?”
I nodded.
“Hey, I saw Josh. He told me about Rose. Is she all right?”
I set down my fork. “She’s fine. I think her head is harder than a cement block. How did Josh know?”
I had known Josh Evans since we were kids. He was a lawyer and had come to the Angels’ rescue more than once.
Jess shrugged. “His mother’s working for Liz now, remember?”