"Do you have a house in Texas yet?" Robbie asked. His eyes stayed on the bucket, watching it fill up slowly. Our hands had found their way back together again.
"No. He's not even sure if we'll actually end u
p there. I don't know why he can't just keep working for your dad. He says he's wanted to start his own company for a long time and this is the best opportunity, but... I don't care. I don't want to move," I said. Robbie squeezed my hand.
"My dad doesn't want yours to go, but there isn't anything he can do about it. You promise you'll keep in touch? Maybe you can come back to New York for Christmas or something?" Hope raised Robbie's voice an octave.
"I hope so. That would be great." It was my turn to squeeze Robbie's hand. "I'm going to miss you."
"Me too," he said softly. There was a note of hurt in his voice that made me feel even more awful. Despite being a billionaire's son, Robbie didn't have a lot of friends. It was usually just him and me. Sometimes Gavin would join us, and we'd be the Three Musketeers, but Gavin didn't like to sail. Robbie and I lived for sailing. I wasn't sure what I was going to do without him.
Robbie turned off the water, and then dipped a finger into the bucket to test the temperature.
"It's warm today," he said, turning to me with a grin. Some days it was ice cold, but the sun had been shining all day. Warm was always better.
A car's brakes squeaked in the parking lot, and I saw my father's black Mercedes pulling into a parking space. We didn't have much time. Robbie saw it too, and so he lifted the bucket over our heads. We would just have to share the bucket this time, pouring it over both of us to rinse off the salt.
I stepped in close to him, feeling my heart start to beat faster. I didn't know why, but being around Robbie recently made my heart start to pound. He was my best friend, but I could feel my body starting to ask for more. I wondered if he felt the same way.
Robbie steadied the bucket and then slowly tipped it over to cascade the water down over the two of us. I moved without thinking, leaning forward and kissing him on the lips. The water sparkled around us in the sunshine as I pressed my mouth against his.
Robbie froze. The bucket fell from his hands with a clatter. My father's voice called my name, and I gave Robbie a hug, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I didn't want to let him go, but I knew I had to. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed back, holding me like he was never going to let go.
"Samantha? It's time to leave," my father called from the car. I had to go. Robbie's arms slowly released me, and I stepped back. There were tears in his green eyes.
"Bye, Robbie," I whispered and darted away as fast as I could. I didn't want him to see me cry.
I ran to the car, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind me. My dad was standing in the open door of his car, resting his arms on the frame as he waited for me. I knew there would be dry towels in the back seat for me to sit on.
I slammed the door shut, wrapping a towel around me like a blanket. I wiped at my nose, feeling the tears trickle down my face. Dad's door closed, and he backed out of the parking lot. He stayed quiet, letting me have a moment alone. Through the window I could still see Robbie standing there, the bucket rolling gently at his feet.
The car backed out, and I pressed a hand to the glass to wave goodbye. Robbie mirrored my gesture, raising his hand toward me. The car turned down the street, and Robbie was gone.
Chapter 2
I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. It was a cute little house, quaint with a big white door. It looked like something a grandmother would live in, which was appropriate because Betty lived here, my niece’s grandmother. Or rather, she had lived here.
Sighing as I leaned back in the truck's seat, I still couldn't believe I was here, but family has to stick together. My sister, Grace, needed me. When she called to tell me Betty had died, I packed my truck the next day. Grace wouldn’t officially ask me to move in, but Grace was going to have a rough time without Betty’s help watching her daughter.
Five years old and one of the smartest little kids I had ever met, Avery was incredibly independent and a total handful. It wasn't that she misbehaved; but just like her dad, she was too smart for her own good and she had an impulsive spirit, just like her father. Often, she didn't think before she acted.
I wondered how well Grace was holding up. She was strong, but I was sure Betty's death was taking its toll on her. She had already lost so much; the death of one more person close to her seemed cruel. Our parents died when I was fifteen and Grace was nineteen. She had petitioned the courts and taken legal guardianship of me. It was just us; two teenage girls taking on the world. But, together, we survived.
The truck groaned slightly as it settled. I closed my eyes, thinking back on how things had been and how we got to this point.
Grace and her boyfriend, Evan, finished raising me after Mom and Dad died. I had been excited when Grace told Evan she was pregnant a year after the three of us had moved in together. I was sixteen at the time and thought having a baby around the house would be fun. Evan joined the Army so that he could support his growing family, and he married Grace in a simple ceremony in front of an Army chaplain before Avery was born. Money was tight, but we were happy. We were a family.
Evan worked so hard to keep Grace, Avery, and me comfortable. We were "his girls," and we traveled from base to base across the country wherever the Army sent him. Things were good, the future looked bright. Then I came home one day to find a man in uniform with a flag tucked under his arm and an apologetic look on his face. Evan's impulsive spirit had cost him dearly. The Army chaplain said he didn't even hesitate to run into the fire and had saved three lives because of it. Avery was only three.
After Evan died, his mother, Betty, asked Grace and Avery to come live with her. I had a sailing scholarship waiting for me in California, so I went off to school while Grace and Avery moved back to the East Coast. I visited as often as I could, but even with my sailing competitions occasionally sending me back East, I only saw them at Christmas and spring break. I missed them, but my sailing career was taking off. Well, I thought, it had been.
Without air conditioning, the truck’s cabin started to heat up. It was still early summer, but the late afternoon sun beat through the windshield. It felt almost good in a drowsy sort of way, but I knew before long it would become unbearable. I was rather excited, looking forward to a shower and a night in a real bed. Traveling cross-country in an old beat-up pickup with barely enough money to pay for gas, let alone a decent hotel, made for some uncomfortable nights stretched out across the passenger seat.
A little face framed with dark blonde hair appeared in the front window of the house, as I turned into the driveway and shut off the car. Blue eyes peered out at me and a huge grin spread across her face when I waved. My time in the driveway was over. Even from the car, I could hear her little voice shouting, "AUNT SAM'S HERE! MOM! AUNT SAM'S HERE!"
The old truck’s door gave a metallic sigh when I opened it, and I stretched as soon as I could stand. My butt was numb from sitting for so long. The slight breeze was cool after being in the car, and it felt amazing. Even though we were at least a mile inland, I could almost smell the ocean. One upside to moving here was a fantastic little marina just a mile away. Not that I had a boat or anyone to sail it with, but at least it was there.
The front door of the house made a thud against the wall after Avery threw it open and ran screaming joyfully into the driveway. Kneeling just in time to have her little arms slam around my neck, she giggled with delight as I squeezed her back. I held her at arm's length and looked her up and down.