The Newcomer

“Just a little, please? So I can understand where you are right now? Emotionally.”

Ash rolled onto her back, her wet eyes red and swollen. “He has another girl. A beautiful, snotty college girl who he’s screwing because he says it’s not that big a deal. And right now I just don’t want to even live.”

“Ashley, please, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

“I’m not going to school tomorrow. Maybe not the next day, either. Maybe never.”

Three

Cooper noticed Sarah had been preoccupied over the past couple of days. Quiet and maybe a bit sullen. She said the inspection was going to be hell and while she might not be worried about her team, a strong leader always worried about the inspectors. They had to be ready for anything.

All Cooper could do was be available, support her in any way he could. He found himself fighting the worry that Sarah had changed her mind, that something had caused her to reconsider those three little words. I love you. Yet when he possessed her, when she was joined to him, her passion for him drove worry from his mind. During those times she was one hundred percent his and he was completely hers.

In the meantime, he had a business to learn. This beach bar was unlike anything he had ever done before. Ben’s old helper, Rawley Goode, old being the operative word, might be a little on the strange side, but he had turned out to be a damned good assistant. Rawley was somewhere in his sixties and he’d been ridden hard. Rawley told Cooper that Ben used to only be open in the mornings and evenings. Ben had put in his longest days during summer, and he bumped up the schedule with the help of part-time teenage help. Rawley said, “I clean and get supplies. I can work in the kitchen or behind the bar, but I ain’t social. You give me a list and cash. I go to Costco and other stores. But in summer, you have to stay open late. The sunset over the bay is better ’n football on HD.”

During his first week of operation Cooper noticed that the bulk of his traffic was between seven and ten in the morning and four and seven in the afternoon. There were stragglers here and there at other times. Those patrons were almost exclusively Thunder Point residents. But on the weekends, particularly in good weather, there was heavy traffic all day and into the evening—bikers, cyclists, pleasure boaters, sport fishermen, folks traveling on Highway 101 in want of a meal. He did an impressive business on bottled water alone, not to mention the other things he was able to offer. When he inherited this place, it had been a run-down shack with a homemade sign on the road that said Cheap Drinks. Now it was upgraded and classy and he was damn proud of it. Cooper put a decent sign on his property at the turnoff from highway 101. Ben & Cooper’s. And beneath that, Food and Drink. He stocked liquor and non-alcoholic beverages and had a contract with Carrie James, owner of the town’s deli, for prepared and wrapped food items. The reopening of the bar benefited both of them.

A lot of his first patrons from out of town wanted to know what had happened to Ben. Well, it was a sad story and he didn’t like to dwell on it, but the fact was that Ben had been found at the bottom of the cellar stairs and at first it was thought to be an accident. But, since then, there had been evidence to suggest he’d been killed by a blow to the head that caused the fall. The suspect—a seventeen-year-old kid from town—was out on bail awaiting trial. That still blew Cooper’s mind—a seventeen-year-old kid. The kid, Jag Morrison, had been trying to convince Ben to sell the beach and adjacent property to his father, a local developer.

Cooper had been just going through the motions—renovating and opening for business. He didn’t think he was a shopkeeper or bar-owner kind of guy. He had been a pilot for fifteen years—helicopters. But the more he got to know the town, the people and the many moods of the Pacific Ocean, the more the place grew on him. After just a short period of time instead of moving on, he was considering making even more improvements to the property. After watching Sarah on the water, he thought renting kayaks and paddleboards would be an excellent idea.

None of it came naturally, however. Cooper bought himself a new laptop with a decent accounting spreadsheet program and was still figuring it out. Rawley wasn’t able to help him out with this part of the business. It was during his weekday midmorning downtime that he sat at his own bar and was plugging numbers from bills and receipts into his spreadsheet that the door opened and Mac McCain walked in. With relief, he closed the laptop. “Hey,” he said. “Aren’t you usually at the diner about now?”

“Usually,” Mac said. “Gina’s daughter stayed home from school. She went home to check on her and I didn’t feel like having coffee with the cook. Stu just isn’t as pretty no matter which way you cut it.”

“I noticed that. How’s everything else?”

“Same,” he said. Mac went right behind the bar and helped himself to a cup of coffee. “You? Business shaping up?”

“Aw, I don’t know. I mean, business is good. There are people in here all the time. But I’m not real clear on the accounting and that sort of thing. Kind of makes me wonder how Ben managed. He was a genius with a wrench but he didn’t seem to take to paperwork and numbers.”

“Everyone wondered that same thing,” Mac said, sipping his coffee.

“It’s tedious, that’s for sure. Say, something’s been weighing on my mind a little bit. Been a long time since I had a girlfriend, you know? You ever wonder what the hell’s going on in Gina’s head?”

Mac broke into a huge grin. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“So that’s a no? Because Sarah—she’s got a lot on her mind, I know that. But man, she’s on another planet sometimes. Makes me wonder if anything is wrong. But then she’s back and I wonder why I wondered....”

“Coop, you remember how many women I live with, right? There’s Lou, Eve and Dee Dee at home, but then there’s Gina and all her women—her mother and her daughter, who at the moment is a mess over some boyfriend issue. Half the time I don’t have any idea what’s going on in any of their heads!”

“Oh,” he said. “That’s a no?”

“That’s a no.”

“How do you handle that?”

“Do you see me handling anything? I pretty much just duck.”

“Oh, you’re a big help....”

“Sorry, man. I just do as I’m told most of the time,” Mac said.

Cooper just stared at him. “Why aren’t you completely bald?”

“It’s a wonder, isn’t it? Lou says there’s something in the male hormone that prevents me from getting it. She’s probably right.”

* * *

Gina went home during the midmorning slow time at the diner to check on Ashley, as she’d done the two previous days. This was her third day of grieving and Ashley just lay in her bed, clutching her phone. Gina had tried prying it out of her fingers once but her daughter tearfully whimpered, “But what if he calls me?”

“It would probably be best if you just turned the phone off,” Gina said. “If he calls you, let him find you’re over him!”

“I’m so not over him,” she said.

“This can’t go on, Ash,” she said. “You have to get a grip. You have to get up, get cleaned up, go to school.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” she cried.

“Don’t I? Ashley, my boyfriend left me pregnant at fifteen. When I told him, he ran far and fast and never looked back! Ashley, I know how this hurts, believe me.”

She rolled over, her red hair everywhere, and tearfully said, “I wouldn’t mind that, you know. At least you still had a part of him to live for. What do I have?”

Gina wanted to shake her. “Your dignity! He cheated on you—you should kick him to the curb, not suffer in rejection. Get mad! I hope the sorry bastard gets a disease!”

“Mama,” she cried, fresh tears spilling all over her face. “Don’t say that, Mama. You love Downy. And my heart hurts....”

She didn’t love Downy anymore. How could he take her little girl’s innocence and then dismiss her so cruelly? Describe her as “the girl I dated back home” like she was history? He should be brutally punished. How could he?

Because he’s an eighteen-year-old boy, her wiser self said. He did what most eighteen-year-old boys do. And Ash is just a sixteen-year-old girl, doing what comes naturally—grieving her loss. It could just as easily have gone the other way—Ashley could have become bored with her absent boyfriend and found someone new at school, some current popular jock who had time to date, to take her to the dances and games. This could be Downy wallowing in depression because his girlfriend had dumped him.

Why couldn’t it be that way, huh? she asked herself. She didn’t want her daughter to be mean and insensitive, but she also didn’t want this—this sobbing, broken mess who wouldn’t get out of bed.

“I’m going back to work,” she said. “When I get home later I want you up. I want you showered, doing your best to get on with life because you can’t fix this, Ashley. I’m not going to let you shrivel up and waste away just because Downy was an unfaithful ass. Do you hear me? Tomorrow you go to school, no excuses.”

She rolled over and looked at her through wet eyes. “I loved him,” she whispered. “I loved him so much.”

“But you can’t make a person love you back,” Gina whispered.

“Are you sure? Because somehow I made him love me once.”

Gina smoothed her crazy red hair back off her brow. “I know, baby. Someday you’re going to understand that you dodged a bullet here. You don’t want a boyfriend who can’t be faithful, who can’t keep his promises. Believe me.”

Ashley just shook her head. She rolled over and, gripping her phone, as she had been for days, she gently wept.

Gina got away from the house. She walked down the hill to the diner before pulling out her own phone. She stared at it for a moment. She sat down on one of the benches outside the diner’s front door and clicked on Marjorie Downy’s number. When the woman answered she said, “Marjorie, hi. It’s Gina James.”

“Hi there, Gina.”