The aroma finally forced Gabby to sit up. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being on some exotic island vacation instead of only minutes from Beaufort. The gentle waves lapped in steady rhythm, and the few vacant beach houses behind them looked as if they’d been dropped from the sky. Over her shoulder, a path cut through the dunes, angling toward the black-and-white lighthouse that had weathered thousands of rainstorms.
Surprisingly, no one else had joined them at the cove, which only added to its appeal. Off to the side, she saw Laird standing over the portable grill, wielding a pair of tongs. Megan was lining up bags of potato chips and buns and opening Tupperware containers on a small fold-up table, while Liz was setting out condiments along with paper plates and plastic utensils. Joe and Matt were behind them, tossing a football back and forth. She couldn’t remember a weekend from her childhood where a group of families got together to enjoy one another’s company in a gorgeous spot simply because it was . . . Saturday. She wondered if this was the way most people lived, or whether it had more do with life in a small town, or whether it was simply a habit that these friends had formed long ago. Whatever it was, she suspected she could get used to it.
“Food’s ready!” Laird shouted.
Gabby slipped on her shirt and wandered toward the food, surprised by how hungry she was until she remembered that she hadn’t had a chance to eat breakfast. Over her shoulder, she saw Travis doing his best to herd the kids forward, scurrying around them like a cattle dog. The three of them rushed toward the grill, where Megan stood guard.
“Line up on the blanket,” she ordered, and the toddlers— obviously out of well-trained habit—did exactly as they were told.
“Megan has magic powers with kids,” Travis observed over her shoulder. He was breathing heavily, his hands on his hips. “I wish they listened to me like that. I have to resort to chasing them until I’m about to pass out.”
“But you seem like such a natural.”
“I love playing with them, not herding.” He leaned toward her conspiratorially. “But between you and me? This is what I’ve learned about parents: The more you play with their kids, the more they love you. When they watch someone who adores their kids—genuinely delighting in them the same way they do—well, he just becomes the cat’s meow in the parents’ eyes.”
“Cat’s meow?”
“I’m a vet. I like animal clichés.”
She couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re probably right about playing with the kids. My favorite relative was an aunt who would climb trees with me and my sisters while all the other grown-ups sat in the living room talking.”
“And yet . . . ,” he said, motioning toward Stephanie, “there you were, just lounging on the towel with my sister, instead of taking the chance to show these people that you find their kids irresistible.”
“I . . .”
“I was kidding.” He winked. “The fact is, I wanted to spend time with them. And in a little while, they’ll start getting cranky. That’s when I finally collapse in a beach chair, wipe my brow, and let their parents take over.”
“In other words, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
“I think . . . that when the time comes, I just might volunteer your services.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No problem. Hey—you hungry?”
“Starved.”
By the time they reached the food, the kids were seated on the blanket with hot dogs, potato salad, and some diced fruit. Liz, Megan, and Allison sat near enough to monitor, but far enough away to converse. All three, Gabby noticed, ate chicken, along with various side dishes. Joe, Matt, and Laird had taken seats on the coolers and sat with their plates on their knees, bottles of beer propped up in the sand.
“Burgers or chicken?” Gabby inquired.
“I like chicken. But the burgers are supposed to be terrific. I just never really acquired the taste for red meat.”
“I thought all men ate burgers.”
“Then I guess I’m not a man.” He straightened up. “Which, I must say, is really going to surprise and disappoint my parents. Being that they gave me a masculine name and all.”
She laughed. “Well . . .” She nodded toward the grill. “They clearly saved the last piece of chicken for you.”
“That’s only because we got here before Stephanie. She would have taken it, even though she’d rather have a burger, just because she knows I’d end up not eating.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked her.”
They reached for some plates as they eyed the appetizing variety of side dishes spread out on the table—beans, casseroles, potato, cucumber, and fruit salads—all of which smelled delicious. Gabby grabbed a bun, added some ketchup, mustard, and pickles, and held out her plate. Travis dropped the chicken onto his plate, then lifted a burger from the side of the grill and added it to her bun.
He scooped some fruit salad onto his plate; Gabby added a taste of pretty much everything. When she was finished, she looked at both their plates with an almost guilty expression, which Travis thankfully didn’t seem to notice.
“Would you like a beer?” he asked.
“Sounds great.”
He reached into the cooler and fished out a Coors Light, then grabbed a bottle of water for himself.
“Gotta drive the boat,” he explained. He lifted his plate in the direction of the dunes. “How about over there?”
“Don’t you want to eat near your friends?”
“They’ll be all right,” he said.
“Lead the way.”
They trudged toward the low dune, a spot shaded by a sickly, salt-poisoned tree, with branches all pointing in the same direction, bent by years of ocean breezes. Gabby could feel the sand slipping beneath her feet. Travis took a seat near the dune, lowering himself to the sand Indian style in a single movement. Gabby sat next to him with considerably less grace, making sure to leave enough distance between them so they wouldn’t accidentally touch. Even in the shade, the sand and water beyond were so bright that she had to squint.
Travis began to cut his piece of chicken, the plastic utensils bending under the pressure.
“Coming out here reminds me of high school,” he remarked. “I can’t tell you how many weekends we spent here back then.” He shrugged. “Different girls and no kids, of course.”
“I’ll bet that was fun.”
“It was,” he said. “I remember one night, Joe and Matt and Laird and I were out here with a few girls we were trying to impress. We were sitting around a bonfire, drinking beer, telling jokes, and laughing. . . and I remember thinking that life couldn’t get any better.”
“Sounds like a Budweiser commercial. Aside from the fact that you were underage and the whole thing was illegal.”
“And you never did anything like that, right?”
“Actually, no,” she said. “I didn’t.”
&nbs
p; “Really? Never?”
“Why do you look so surprised?”
“I don’t know. I guess . . . I just don’t see you as someone who grew up following all the rules.” When he saw her expression, he backtracked. “Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just meant that you strike me as independent and someone who’s always up for new adventures.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
As soon as she said it, she remembered saying the same thing to Stephanie. She braced herself for what might come next.
He absently moved his fruit with his fork. “I know that you moved away from your home, that you bought your own house, that you’re making it on your own. To me, that means independence. And as for adventurous—you’re here with a bunch of strangers, aren’t you? You went parasailing and even overcame the thought of sharks to get dipped in the water. Those were new challenges. I think that’s admirable.”
She blushed, liking Travis’s answer much better than his sister’s. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But it’s not like traveling around the world without an itinerary.”
“Don’t let that fool you. You think I wasn’t nervous when I left? I was terrified. I mean, it’s one thing to tell your friends what you’re going to do, and it’s another thing entirely to actually get on the plane and land in a country where barely anyone speaks English. Have you traveled?”
“Not much. Aside from a spring break I spent in the Bahamas, I’ve never been out of the country. And if you get right down to it, if you stay close to the resort like I did—surrounded by American college kids—it could have passed for Florida.” She paused. “Where are you going next? Your next big adventure?”
“Nothing too far-flung this time. I’m going to the Grand Tetons. Do some camping, hiking, canoeing, the works. I’ve heard it’s breathtaking, and I’ve never been there.”
“Are you going alone?”
“No,” he said. “I’m going with my dad. I can’t wait.”
Gabby made a face. “I can’t imagine going off on a trip with either one of my parents.”
“Why not?”
“My parents? You’d have to know them to understand.”