Page 3 of Tell It To The Waves

The ride into town is quiet as she’s on her phone. But my eyes want to roam on their own, just wanting a glimpse of him.

The different-colored shops moved by at a snail's pace as I made my way down the main two-lane road through town. Memories play like a movie with each passing storefront.

Fourth of July pops into my mind, each side of the road lined with families, smiling faces, red, white, and blue as floats made their way down. He and I took his father's float late that nightand had our own little parade of just the two of us. We got into trouble, but we were seventeen, living the life on Driftwood Bay.

I smile and immediately wipe it off as I pull up to the clinic. This town is trying to penetrate my mind and heart once again.

Throwing the car into park, I hop out. In a hurry, I find a wheelchair inside the clinic. Gently helping Mrs. Williams into it, I maneuver her inside.

“August,” she calls my name as I turn to leave.

“Yeah?”

“My son-in-law will be by tomorrow to finish up, so we can list.”

My heart sinks hearing those words. I open my mouth to tell her I can’t stay but immediately shut it. I need to get this done. What’s one night? “Okay.” I give her a weak smile. “Again, I’m sorry.” My eyes pan down to her ankle.

She gives me a wink. “Hey, maybe this was God's way of telling me I needed to slow the hell down.” Her shoulders pull up to her ears.

As the nurse comes out of the back, that’s my cue to leave.

Walking outside, I stand on the sidewalk, breathing in. The scent coming from Sea Shack makes my mouth water, my taste buds remembering.

On instinct, I walk the few doors down, entering a place I’ve been craving for the last eight years.

Everything is still the same. The colors and the décor. A few old booths with a walk-up window. The music plays softly, inviting, the smell of seafood lingering in the air.

In the summer, this place always fills up, and Driftwood Bay counts lobster rolls as a main staple.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The cashier looks up from the register, and I know as soon as we make eye contact, she recognizes me because my soul recognizes her.

“August?” Baylee Marshall’s eyes harden at me, her smile slowly fading. All pleasantries disappear when she sees my face.

Baylee, the best friend I had since I was nine, the one I left here and never reached out to, even though she tried so many times. Another piece of my past I let sink into the ocean when I left.

I give her a weak smile because what else can I do? “Hi, Bay.”

She doesn’t reply as she turns around and calls my order into the kitchen, knowing what I came here for.

Spinning back around, she hands me a cold Diet Coke. “That’ll be thirteen dollars.”

My hands shake when I take the money out of my pocket, uncrumpling a twenty. “Keep the change.”

She gawks before sliding me back eight dollars. “No thanks.” Her face shows a bit of age; her smile lines around her eyes are now noticeable. Her once long, red hair is now cut into a bob, but still as bright as the day I met her. Reaching for the money, I notice her ring finger; a pearl surrounded by diamonds sits perfectly on it. And a little piece of me breaks inside.

The order-up bell sounds, yanking us both out of our thoughts, and letting her know my lobster rolls are ready.

Handing me the bag, she smiles sadly at me. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

Her mouth opens to speak more, but I cut off her words, “Thank you.”

Grabbing my to-go bag, I hurry out. My chest feels like it’s caving in. The hurt I caused her all those years ago is still there. I saw it when she saw me. I walk as fast as I can to my car and head back to the cottage, needing to get as far away as I can from this town and the memories it’s invoking.

I don’t even go into the house but sit on the back porch and watch the waves as I pull out my food. The smell makes my mouth salivate. The lemon is strong; the lobster meat is cooked to perfection. That first bite explodes in my mouth, and I can’t help the moan I release when I taste the Old Bay seasoning. The one comfort food that I haven’t let myself taste since I left here. Is it stupid that I feel tears come to my eyes? Maybe, but this is way more than just food. It was home; it was Driftwood Bay. It was who I am… Was.

Letting the lobster Roll fall into the to-go container, my head tilts back, looking up to the bright blue sky, no cloud in sight. I feel like I’m going to choke on the food I’m trying to swallow.

“Why couldn’t you take care of this? You knew,” I whisper to the sky, as if my dad is going to answer me.