I spot Tricia running the kids’ games part of the party later in the afternoon. When her gaze connects with mine, instead of the scowl I’ve grown accustomed to, she looks wary. I nod at her, and she relaxes, giving me a small nod in response.
It’s sort of strange to not be on the receiving end of her ire, but I’ll take it.
By the time the Promenade gets under way at eight o’clock, the sky is dimmed to a muted charcoal gray and the air has cooled to a pleasant seventy-five degrees. The lighthouse light is illuminated, casting a warm glow over the grounds of the park, and the lights I’ve strung up around the pavilion add an extraoomphto the scene.
If only Poppy were here to see her vision come to life. I’d like to think I made her proud.
Willow Dunlap is in her element, shoving couples onto the dance floor. Ernest is posted near the speakers, gazing with admiration at his wife. He eventually catches her hand and pulls her in close. They fall into a sweet two-step. My heart clenches, and I have to look away.
When I do, I spy Mia and Patrick, who appear from behind the lighthouse. Mia tugs on the hem of her shirt. Her cheeks are flushed, and she shoots her husband a sly grin. Patrick, for his part, looks besotted.
And this is my cue to leave.
I take off in the direction of my truck, knowing I’ll catch flak from everyone for leaving early. But I can’t be here without Poppy. It’s too much.
“Leaving so soon?”
Piper’s voice cuts through the crowd, and I spin back around.
My cousin and her new husband are beaming back at me as they stroll over from the dance floor.
I don’t have the energy to muster up a smile in return. “Uh, yeah. I’m tired.”
“You’ll miss the fireworks,” Piper argues.
Since I’m pretty sure no fireworks will ever match the ones from Wool Beach that went off after Poppy and I shared our first kiss, I couldn’t care less.
I press my fingers to my temples. “I’ve got a migraine coming on. The noise would make it worse.” I offer up an apologetic shrug, not sorry for my white lie.
Piper’s expression turns to one of concern. “Do you need a ride home? I could—”
“No,” I cut her off, holding up my hand. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. You guys enjoy the night.”
I slink off into the night before she can get another word in and mercifully manage to dodge both my parents and anyone else who may have had the intention of halting my progress.
I make the drive back to my place in silence. The Cashmere Cove streets are deserted since everyone is at the park.
Once inside, I flop face-first down on my couch. Maybe I’ll sleep here tonight. I don’t have the energy to move. I’m emotionally and physically spent, like a wrinkled up dollar bill that someone keeps trying to flatten out and shove back into the vending machine.
I’m in a state of half-sleep, half-wakefulness when I hear the first thud.
I nearly fall off the couch. What in the world was that?
I glance at my phone to check the time, and only twenty-five minutes have passed since I made it home.
Thud.
There it is again. It’s coming from the backyard.
I take off through the house, trying to shake off the sleep that was about to overtake me before the walls started shaking.
Thud.
I swing open the back door on my side of the duplex and push the screen door out. What meets my ears is the sweetest string of curse words I ever did hear.
31
Right Back
