Brooklyn drove Brystol, Carly, and Simone downtown. She parked as close as she could to First Street. There were barricades in place to keep traffic away from the street fair, which Brystol excitedly detailed for her mother, telling her which stop had the best fried dough, freshly squeezed lemonade, homemade ice cream, and the most beautiful jewelry. Brystol, of course, had bought a mermaid ring the night before when she came down with Simone.
As they walked along the street, memories came back tenfold for Brooklyn. She stopped in front of Hershel’s Candy Store and watched the taffy puller stretch the taffy into figure eights. Next to the machine, a man dressed in all white set out a tray of freshly dipped caramel apples, some candied and others rolled in nuts. Her stomach growled, and she set her hand over it, as if to calm it down. It had been years since she tasted any of Hershel’s candy, and she wondered if he still owned the place.
“Mom, did you come here when you lived here?”
She nodded at her daughter’s question but kept her eyes on the displays. “All the time. I would buy your grandma her Mother’s Day and birthday presents here, knowing full well that she didn’t have a sweet tooth because I knew she’d share with me. Monroe and I used to come here after school and buy the taffy just as they were pulling it off the spindle. That’s when it’s best, when it’s a little warm.”
“Hershel passed away about four years ago,” Simone said from beside her. “His sons run the business now and have expanded it down the coast.”
“That’s sort of sad; it was a staple of Cape Harbor.”
Judging by Simone’s sigh, she must’ve agreed. Everyone but Brooklyn moved. She stayed, mesmerized by the taffy and remembering how she used to love watching it when she was younger. Someone knocked on the window, startling her. She looked up and found a familiar face waving at her. She knew she couldn’t run anymore and decided to step into the store.
“Brooklyn Hewett, I heard you were back in town.”
“Hey, Clint, it’s good to see you.” She leaned in and gave her former classmate a hug. “I am back in town, for a little bit at least.” Growing up, Clint would occasionally hang out with her group of friends. At one point, he had a crush on Mila, but that never went anywhere.
“Is it true the inn is reopening?”
She nodded and added a genuine smile. “Bowie and I have been renovating like crazy.”
He shook his head. “I remember how heartbroken everyone was when Mrs. Woods shut the door. My dad tried to buy it, but she wouldn’t even entertain an offer.”
Brooklyn wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t have any excuses for Carly’s behavior, so she steered the conversation toward him. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. I didn’t know until now.”
“He lived a long, happy life—that’s for sure.”
“He made a lot of us happy and kept the dentists in town in business. It’s good to see you’re doing your part and helping the economy.”
“What can I say; it’s in my blood. I hadn’t heard you and Bowie were an item; is this recent?”
Brooklyn blushed. “We’re not. Carly hired us separately to renovate the inn. Once it’s done, I’ll be back to work and living the dream.” She threw up jazz hands and did a little dip to the side. She had no idea what spurred her to do this, but she felt like a complete boob. “I should probably go. It was good seeing you, Clint.”
“I’m about to head out—gotta get provisions for the bonfire. I’ll see you there?”
She smiled and nodded as she headed out the door. There was no use in telling him she wouldn’t be there. By the time she caught up with her family, Brystol was deep into a bag of cotton candy, had a balloon tied around her wrist, and was wearing some light-up headband with tinsel hanging off in every direction.
Carly linked arms with Brooklyn and strolled down the street as if she owned it, proudly showing off her family and expertly dodging every question about where Brooklyn and Brystol had been by simply stating that Brystol spent every summer here, leaving people to ponder where the hell Carly had been. If the people of Cape Harbor were surprised to see Carly out and about, no one said anything. Most acted like they hadn’t seen her in days, not years, and to Brooklyn this was concerning. During the few years she’d spent here when she was younger, everyone was up in everyone else’s business. No one could do anything without a rumor starting or word spreading faster than wildfire. There was a reason gossip was called tea; it was because every nosy neighbor used the drink as an excuse to gossip.