the shelf above his head.
“Just not quite proud enough to stay there,” I say. I don’t know why I’m scrapping with him like this. Rich has been so weirdly uncommunicative that I’m starved for conversation; I’ll do anything to keep it going.
“Touché. Actually, I…fell in love with someone, if you really want to know. He was a foreign-exchange student at university in Melbourne, and I tended bar at a place he liked to go downtown.”
Ah, he. Good to know. “So how did you end up here?”
Except for us, the place is empty. Flynn throws a dish towel across his shoulder and comes over to my table with a pot of coffee. He pours coffee into my empty cup, then swoops into the chair across from me. “I used to joke that I’d follow him anywhere, and that’s exactly what I did. I ended up here, on an island on the other side of the world.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s here. Teaches high school over in Bar Harbor. We’re just not together anymore.”
“Oh, that’s sad,” I say. “Following someone around the world sounds like true love to me.”
He shrugs. “True love is an elusive beast.”
“That’s poetic.”
“Hard-earned wisdom often is, you know.” He stretches, then pulls away from the chair back and turns around to look at it. “These chairs are rough as hell. Whose idea were they?”
“I don’t know—yours?”
“I got them on the cheap from a dreary French restaurant in Ellsworth that was going out of business,” he says.
“Well, maybe now we know why,” I say.
The door opens with a faint tinkle, and a woman and young boy come in. The woman is small-boned and attractive; the boy looks just like her. They both have large brown eyes and dark curly hair.
“Afternoon, Flynn,” the woman says.
“Hey, Rebecca. Hey, Josh. What’s shakin’?”
Josh ducks behind the woman’s back, and Flynn leans forward over the counter, pretending to try to get a glimpse. “Darn. Too quick for me,” he says.
Josh giggles, and Rebecca pulls him out from behind her. “Be polite to Flynn,” she says. “He makes Mommy’s coffee.”
“Ah, no, not polite!” Flynn says. “Polite is the last thing we need in this place. I think you should be really rude.” He sticks out his tongue at Josh and bugs his eyes.
Josh titters again, his hand over his mouth, then sticks his tongue out at Flynn and darts behind his mother.
“Great, Flynn. Encourage him.”
“Aw, he’s a good kid,” Flynn says. Keed. “So what can I get you today?”
“Um—I’ll have a double tall skim cappuccino with extra foam. Oh, and a shot of vanilla. Thanks.”
As Flynn fiddles with the espresso machine he says, “Rebecca, meet Angie. Angie, Rebecca.”
“Angela,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
“Both of you are from New York,” Flynn says. “Sort of.”
Rebecca smiles at me. “‘Sort of’?”
“I made the mistake of growing up in New Jersey. So he thinks I’m being dishonest.”
“How long have you lived in New York?”
“Ten years.”
“That’s a pretty long time. Only someone who’s never lived there would be so literal.”
“Hey,” Flynn protests.
“You started it,” she says.
He hands her a cup, and she gives him a twenty.
“Are you visiting people up here?” she asks me.
I nod.
“Would I know them?”
I shrug.
Flynn looks at me with sudden interest. “Yes, do tell.”
“It’s just a—friend. A guy named Rich Saunders.”
“Holy dooley!” Flynn says, at the same time that she says, “Ahh.” A look passes between them.
“Is there—something I should know?” I ask.
Flynn busies himself behind the counter.
“I don’t know Richard very well,” Rebecca says. “He seems like a—nice guy. He’s quite good-looking.”
Flynn lifts his eyebrows and pauses as if he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it. “That’s true,” he says.
“He gave me sailing lessons last summer,” Josh announces.
All of us look at him in surprise.
“Just not quite proud enough to stay there,” I say. I don’t know why I’m scrapping with him like this. Rich has been so weirdly uncommunicative that I’m starved for conversation; I’ll do anything to keep it going.
“Touché. Actually, I…fell in love with someone, if you really want to know. He was a foreign-exchange student at university in Melbourne, and I tended bar at a place he liked to go downtown.”
Ah, he. Good to know. “So how did you end up here?”
Except for us, the place is empty. Flynn throws a dish towel across his shoulder and comes over to my table with a pot of coffee. He pours coffee into my empty cup, then swoops into the chair across from me. “I used to joke that I’d follow him anywhere, and that’s exactly what I did. I ended up here, on an island on the other side of the world.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s here. Teaches high school over in Bar Harbor. We’re just not together anymore.”
“Oh, that’s sad,” I say. “Following someone around the world sounds like true love to me.”
He shrugs. “True love is an elusive beast.”
“That’s poetic.”
“Hard-earned wisdom often is, you know.” He stretches, then pulls away from the chair back and turns around to look at it. “These chairs are rough as hell. Whose idea were they?”
“I don’t know—yours?”
“I got them on the cheap from a dreary French restaurant in Ellsworth that was going out of business,” he says.
“Well, maybe now we know why,” I say.
The door opens with a faint tinkle, and a woman and young boy come in. The woman is small-boned and attractive; the boy looks just like her. They both have large brown eyes and dark curly hair.
“Afternoon, Flynn,” the woman says.
“Hey, Rebecca. Hey, Josh. What’s shakin’?”
Josh ducks behind the woman’s back, and Flynn leans forward over the counter, pretending to try to get a glimpse. “Darn. Too quick for me,” he says.
Josh giggles, and Rebecca pulls him out from behind her. “Be polite to Flynn,” she says. “He makes Mommy’s coffee.”
“Ah, no, not polite!” Flynn says. “Polite is the last thing we need in this place. I think you should be really rude.” He sticks out his tongue at Josh and bugs his eyes.
Josh titters again, his hand over his mouth, then sticks his tongue out at Flynn and darts behind his mother.
“Great, Flynn. Encourage him.”
“Aw, he’s a good kid,” Flynn says. Keed. “So what can I get you today?”
“Um—I’ll have a double tall skim cappuccino with extra foam. Oh, and a shot of vanilla. Thanks.”
As Flynn fiddles with the espresso machine he says, “Rebecca, meet Angie. Angie, Rebecca.”
“Angela,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
“Both of you are from New York,” Flynn says. “Sort of.”
Rebecca smiles at me. “‘Sort of’?”
“I made the mistake of growing up in New Jersey. So he thinks I’m being dishonest.”
“How long have you lived in New York?”
“Ten years.”
“That’s a pretty long time. Only someone who’s never lived there would be so literal.”
“Hey,” Flynn protests.
“You started it,” she says.
He hands her a cup, and she gives him a twenty.
“Are you visiting people up here?” she asks me.
I nod.
“Would I know them?”
I shrug.
Flynn looks at me with sudden interest. “Yes, do tell.”
“It’s just a—friend. A guy named Rich Saunders.”
“Holy dooley!” Flynn says, at the same time that she says, “Ahh.” A look passes between them.
“Is there—something I should know?” I ask.
Flynn busies himself behind the counter.
“I don’t know Richard very well,” Rebecca says. “He seems like a—nice guy. He’s quite good-looking.”
Flynn lifts his eyebrows and pauses as if he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it. “That’s true,” he says.
“He gave me sailing lessons last summer,” Josh announces.
All of us look at him in surprise.
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