Crossing Abby Road Read online

  “Yes,” I repeated, “that’s my date, and I better get back to her.”

  “Okay, well thanks again. If I need any more, um, help…would you mind coming back?”

  The look in her eyes didn’t make me wish I hadn’t helped in the first place, but it did make me want to get back to Abby, pronto. I adjusted the shade of the umbrella, making sure it blocked where Abby sat. I said hi to Chandler’s little nieces, said one more unnecessary good-bye to Connie, then jogged back to my date.

  “Do you know her—them, I mean?” Abby asked.

  Hmm. So she’d noticed Connie’s over-friendliness. Felt pretty kick-ass to realize Abby could get jealous, though I didn’t know Connie, not really, and I told Abby that. “Getting back to you, though,” I added. “Do you really make up things for interviews?”

  “Sometimes,” she said. “It’s the only way I feel like part of my life is private.”

  I learned a lot when she opened up. We both looked out at the water as a speedboat whizzed by.

  “They turn on you, though, the press,” she continued, pulling her knees up to her chest. “They act like your best friends, then two seconds later they’ve said the ugliest things, even if they know they’re flat-out lies.”

  A kind of haunting sat behind her gray eyes. I’d seen a dozen different expressions today, but this was the first time I’d noticed sadness.

  I wanted to understand her. If I hadn’t genuinely liked this girl, I wouldn’t have bothered to care. Something about that made me nervous again, reminding me that Abby would not be around in the long run. A part of my brain knew it was too late to stop now, so I scooted closer, ready to listen if she needed me to.

  “It’s like being sucked into a hurricane,” she said. “Instead of meeting a million new people, I feel isolated. My family and close friends are all I have, and after what happened with my brother, my family won’t even…” As she exhaled, I heard her breath shake. “Now, I’m in full-blown survival mode.”

  The sadness in her eyes gutted me. What caused it? If it was thinking about her family or isolation or freaking El Niño , I was going to pull her away from it. Hal was right, she deserved to have a good time, but it wasn’t like I could fill her full of candy and put her on a roller coaster.

  “What do you miss the most?” I asked. “About before, I mean.”

  She looked at me and blinked, probably confused by my question. Getting her to focus on something happy was the only thing I could think of, while also pulling my mind away from my own ticking clock.

  “Well…” She rubbed her lips together. “I miss the excitement of traveling.” The darkness lifted from her eyes a bit. Good. “Moving around like I do, I never get to experience where I am. I’ve been to Ireland three times, and I’ve only seen the inside of rooms and cars. I’d like to go back someday. I’ve heard the grassy hills are an indescribable color of green. That landscape might be fun to paint.”

  She’d lost me. How was Abigail Kelly not able to really travel? She could go anywhere she wanted and whenever she wanted. Right?

  Or, maybe she couldn’t. She might’ve been under orders, too, or at least a rigidly tight schedule. Hell, her professional life was probably a lot like the Marines.

  She was looking down at the sand, smiling faintly like she was lost in a memory. This gave me hope that we were on the right track. “I should probably start one of those bucket lists,” she said. “Oh, and you know that real sugary orange soda? I might miss that most of all.”

  I had to laugh, though I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised she missed sweets by the way she’d gone after that key lime pie at lunch. She smiled at me, then her cheeks started to blush and she glanced away. What in the hell was the girl thinking about now?

  “What else?” I asked.

  She dipped her chin, not looking sad anymore, but still not looking at me. “Right now,” she said, playing with some strands of hair, “I miss real life.”

  Another interesting answer. It made me lean forward. “Meaning?”

  “I sometimes wish I was back in my dorm room studying bio. I wish I was trying to decide what to wear on a date, or I wish I was singing Beatles at a karaoke party, or hoping the guy next to me in English would ask me out. I wish I had those things to worry about instead of—” She cut herself off with a drawn-out exhale. “A lot of people rely on me now. That’s all.”

  “Yeah, sounds like it,” I said.

  She laughed quietly. “Right? I’m so lucky.”

  I hadn’t seriously considered how much pressure she was under, fronting a band, responsible for hundreds of people’s livelihoods. What if she decided to not make a record one day, or not go on a tour? Would that put all those people out of work? She’d mentioned her family, a brother and sister. Did she provide their incomes?

  Hell, and I thought opening another store would be stressful. But that didn’t mean my life was any healthier than hers, especially not the life that waited on the other side of my bank loan. Though I couldn’t exactly talk Abby into ditching out on her responsibilities for the summer—reminding her of her own words from earlier, about finding peace in the quiet moments, and that happiness from money and success was bullshit.

  No, I couldn’t do that for her, but I could do something for me.

  Before stopping myself, I’d rolled to my knees and stood. “You’re gonna think I’m a jerk,” I said, “but I have to make a phone call. It’s really important.” I’d already stepped over the Stonehenge rock she was leaning against when I turned back to find her sitting up straight, her gray eyes wide, watching me leave. “Please don’t go anywhere,” I added. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chapter Ten

  “All or Nothing at All”

  I marched up the sandy hill, almost all the way to the stairs that led to my house. Abby was sitting on a rock again, turned halfway around, watching me, maybe making sure I was leaving.

  I gave a quick wave then faced the other way. My hand was steady as I pressed my cell against my ear, trying to block out the sound of the wind and waves. My free hand pulled at the neck of my T-shirt then smoothed it flat again, repeating the tick until he came on the line.

  “Mike, it’s Todd Camford.”

  “Todd. How’s it going?”

  Mike wasn’t my closest friend, but Seaside was a small town, so I knew him well enough and saw him around once or twice a week. Sometimes it was cool doing business with friends. Other times, like now, I wished he was a faceless suit I’d never met.

  “We have an appointment later today,” I said.

  “Right. In about an hour, I think.”

  “Look, I’m”—I hesitated for one last second, which was unnecessary—“I have to cancel.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “No, no. Something came up.”

  “Must be important.”

  “It is.” I shut my eyes, wondering if the metaphorical sky above my head would come crashing down. But nothing happened. In fact, the second I thought about reconsidering, the sudden pain in the pit of my stomach told me I was right.

  “Want to get back on my calendar?” Mike asked. There were sounds of moving papers and flipping pages. “I’m pretty booked the rest of this week. Taking the family on vacation.”

  “Why don’t we touch base when you’re back?”

  “Fine, fine.” More flipping of papers. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  Just like that, in less than one minute, it was over.

  Plans had been made; hundreds of hours had gone into those plans. Not to mention money, the optioned cash I’d given the seller of the property in Destin. But it wasn’t losing money that still gutted me—though it did sting. No, it was having to tell Dad.

  He’d put almost as much time and energy into helping me research and find the perfect location, not to mention how we’d grown closer during the process. And he’d been so proud of me on the phone this morning.

  But the second I’d hung up with Mike, weight was lifting off my
shoulders. It had been the right decision for me, for now. And I needed to act like an adult, decide exactly how I wanted my future to go, and without stressing about what my father thought. But how was I going to explain that to Dad?

  I held the back of my neck, kneading the tense muscles as I stared past the strip of sugary white sand and out at the breaking waves, at the boats dotting the horizon. Damn, I loved this place.

  “Hey!” Abby called through cupped hands. She was standing, her back to the water, still watching at me. “You okay?”

  I exhaled a laugh, unexpectedly touched by her concern and just wanting to return to her, to hear what she’d say next, to bask in her sunny smiles. But I wasn’t okay. Not yet. So I held out my phone in one hand and extended the index finger of my other hand, telling her I’d be another second. A breeze caught her hair as she nodded and sat back down.

  It was almost foolish, how much I dreaded this call. I was a grown-ass man and capable of deciding which direction to take my life. But I couldn’t help feeling like ten piles of crap at the thought of disappointing my dad; he’d become one of my best friends.

  He answered on the first ring. “So? How did it go?”

  The excitement in his voice made my mouth go dry, my stomach muscles clamp down and twist, but I pushed through. “It didn’t.”

  There was a pause. “Son?”

  “I canceled the meeting. It’s not gonna happen.”

  Another pause. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t need it…I don’t want it.”

  “Don’t want what?” Dad didn’t sound pissed, but he was definitely confused. “Todd, that doesn’t make sense. We had a plan.”

  “I know. It was a great plan, and I was on board the entire time; expanding’s what I wanted—what I thought I wanted. But there’s a lot I’d be giving up, too, things I’m not willing to trade in for making more money. If I open another store now, I’ll be jumping back into a life of high pressure and being stressed out. I already lived that life in the Corps, and I don’t want it again.”

  “I see.”

  “I know how much time you put into this,” I added, owning up to everything, “and I know how much you wanted this for me. But it’s not what’s important to me anymore. It’s not my dream. I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Son.” His voice was low. “Don’t be sorry. All I want is for you to be happy.”

  I frowned at this, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all this wasted time and effort, Dad had to be furious.

  “I guess I hadn’t thought it through, either,” he continued, his voice still low and calm. “But I understand what you’re saying.”

  “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

  “Todd, you’re not.” His words made the worrying fist in my stomach begin to unclench. “I know you’ve got a good thing going now,” Dad added, “and you’re trying to start over. I think that’s so commendable, and I never wanted to push you into something you didn’t want.”

  “You weren’t, Dad. I wanted it, too. But I’ve had a lot of time to slow down and think today, to realize how good my life is right now. Throwing more time into work won’t make me any happier.”

  “What suddenly changed your mind?”

  Before replying, I couldn’t help looking at Abby. It had been her words that first got me thinking about all I’d be giving up and taking on. That gray-eyed girl who inspired millions of twelve-year-olds had also inspired me. “I found peace in the quiet moments,” I finally said.

  Dad and I talked for another few minutes, and not once did he tell me I’d made a mistake. In fact, he said he’d never been prouder of me.

  After ending the call, I turned into the wind to see Abby still sitting on the rock, her back to me. A second later, she turned around and our eyes locked. She tilted her head then put a finger on the corners of her mouth, drawing a line up her cheeks, like she was telling me to smile.

  And of course, I did. I was probably grinning like a drunken idiot, first because of her, and also because of the tremendous weight that was gone off my shoulders, my chest…a weight I hadn’t known I’d been lugging around this whole time.

  Before sprinting back to Abby at breakneck speed, I took a beat. When it came to her, my conscience wasn’t completely uninhibited yet. She was only here for one day—the sound of that ticking clock in my ears was almost louder than the waves crashing on the shore—and I wanted to spend every second with her. Which probably wasn’t all that smart if I was suddenly so hell-bent on salvaging my quality of life. Why throw anymore wasted effort into something (or someone) that wasn’t going to last?

  But I couldn’t not go back to her.

  “Hey,” she said, crossing her legs and smiling. “You all done wheeling and dealing, Mr. Gates?”

  I chuckled and sat on the rock beside her. “I take it you were eavesdropping on my conversation with my team of stockbrokers.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  “Well, you might as well know that I told them to pour everything into a little band called Mustang Sally.”

  Abby threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, jeez. The thought of me being publicly traded makes me want to take my chances out there with the sharks.” She turned her gaze toward the water.

  What she said pulled my mind back to what we’d been talking about right before I left her to call Mike. She was the one under all the pressure.

  “You’re a tough cookie, Abby.” And I meant it. She was tough, but she was also clearly vulnerable. No wonder her moods could turn on a dime. She was probably exhausted and needed a rest.

  Or maybe she needed the best damn day I could give her.

  “Heavy lies the head that wears a crown,” I said.

  Abby’s head bobbed in a nod. “How true. But, it’s uneasy lies the head.”

  “You know Shakespeare?”

  “That quote is from Henry the Fourth. He was made king at a young age.” She paused. “I can relate to that a little too well sometimes.”

  She stared down at her feet in the sand. Her toenails were painted pink. Those were some crazy-sexy feet. I slid my foot to her side of the sand and touched her. Her foot froze but then her toes stretched, fanning out. I grinned down at the sand, happy to know I could make her feel good.

  “My sister says I carry the future of the world on my shoulders,” she added.

  “I hear ya,” I replied automatically, because it wasn’t too long ago that a woman in my own life was fond of saying something like that to me. Though that wasn’t exactly what Sophie used to accuse me of.

  My ex was perceptive, and it drove her crazy that I couldn’t see our lives together further than the wedding. She would talk about kids and graduations and retirement, and I would stare at her blankly—carrying absolutely no weight on my shoulders.

  Before I could stop myself, I was chuckling into my fist. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” I said. “What you said suddenly struck me as funny.”

  “Funny?”

  “Ironic is more accurate.” I rubbed my jaw, feeling on the brink of another laugh. “I’ve been accused of having the exact opposite tendencies. Relationships.” I paused and shook my head. “Sometimes no matter how hard you try, they don’t work.”

  Abby was leaning toward me now, just like I’d been earlier, hanging on her next words, dying to see what was going on behind her eyes while she shared just enough to get me hooked.

  But Sophie wasn’t a topic I’d dump on a person I was only going to know one day. “Well, enough of that.” I tossed a fistful of sand into the wind. “Wouldn’t want to bore you.”

  She was the one who laughed now, and it caused her face to brighten, like it had earlier when I’d first seen her at my store, when I felt that first spark in my chest.

  That spark was back, and stronger, with hours behind it, and smiles and laughs and glances, two hugs, and so many arm grabs I’d lost count.

  “Dating sucks, doesn’t it?” she said.

  “Sometimes.”

&nb
sp; “It’s like, some guys think because of who I am and what they might’ve read or heard or…or how I look on some of those magazine covers, they think I’m way more, I don’t know, aggressive or open to stuff. I don’t care what it says out there, I’ve only had three serious boyfriends, and Prince Harry did not buy me a castle, and I didn’t hook up with that actor after the Grammys. That whole night was a publicity set-up; it was our first date and I’d never sleep with anyone that fast.” She looked up at me and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, shitballs, I can’t believe I just told you all that. Why didn’t you stop me or, or throw sand in my face or something?”

  I laughed and sat back, casually wiping my palms on my shorts. “No, it’s fine.”

  “Shit,” she muttered, staring up at the sky.

  “Shitballs, you mean.”

  “See, this is why I don’t like to talk about myself. Stuff gets bottled up and repressed, and then I launch into inappropriately oversharing overdrive.”

  I was grateful for her overshare, actually. Not that sleeping with her today was part of my master plan, but at least now I knew how she felt about it. Cutting sex out of the equation was already freeing up a huge part of my brain, and I instantly felt more…unwound.

  “Abby, really, it’s cool. For what it’s worth, okay yeah, I read that thing about you and the color pink, but that’s pretty much it. Obviously I’m not the target audience when it comes to celebrity gossip, but I’ve never heard anything negative about your, um, reputation.”

  “Really?”

  I shook my head. “Not a thing. For all I know, you could be the virgin queen.”

  Abby snorted, causing her head to buck back. “Yeah, let’s not talk crazy.”

  That was nice to know, too.

  Still laughing under her breath, Abby held her eyes on me, a different look behind them now, one that I felt low in my stomach, but not acute enough to cause me too much discomfort. Suddenly, though, that look disappeared as her jaw dropped, her eyes flew wide open, and before I could even react, she lunged onto my lap, pressing herself against my chest. She wasn’t moving otherwise, but just sat there, burying her face into me.