AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Present Day
Darcy’s bed was piled high with dresses, stylish blouses, pairs of jeans (high-waisted, low-waisted, bell bottom, and skinny), earrings, and scarves. Rachelle and Darcy hovered above it in stoic contemplation. After the silence continued a little too long, Rachelle crumpled to the ground, halfway between laughter and sobbing, and said, “I don’t know. Maybe I should cancel.”
Darcy dropped down beside Rachelle and gave her a light shove. “That’s not like you.”
Rachelle knew that. She knew that, ordinarily, she was a strong, confident, and alarmingly individualistic person—the kind of woman who got what she wanted when she wanted it, who asked men out when she felt like it, who broke up with people the second they treated her less-than-stellar.
“I just really, really like him,” Rachelle said, rolling her eyes back. “I feel so foolish.”
“It’s good to like someone,” Darcy assured her. “You can’t be cold-hearted your whole life. Just remember that it’s a first date. Lean into it. Have fun.”
“Easier said than done,” Rachelle said.
Three days after their romantic night at the bonfire, Eddie had asked Rachelle out on a real date. He’d done it in front of the restaurant an hour or two after they’d cut filming for the night, his eyes shining soulfully. Rachelle’s mouth had gone dry. She’d nearly collapsed on the spot.
Today was the day.
Rachelle selected a navy blue dress and buttoned it to her breasts, her eyes on her reflection in the mirror. It was simple yet girly, nothing like her bulky chef whites. She tried to imagine what Eddie saw when he looked at her but came up blank. Instead, she remembered what Diana had texted her Monday night. “Don’t let them dim your light.” It had been a warning.
Diana’s worries annoyed Rachelle. Diana didn’t know anything about Rachelle and Eddie’s dynamic. Probably, she assumed Rachelle was some inexperienced idiot who didn’t know her way around dating or romance. Rachelle tried not to take it personally, but it was difficult. Ever since their text exchange, Diana and Rachelle had hardly spoken to one another, communicating only about each day’s menu. Any warmth that had brewed between them was gone.
That evening, Darcy and Rachelle waited on the couch of their apartment for their dates to arrive. Steven planned to take Darcy to his parents’ house for dinner, which surprised and thrilled Rachelle.
“You’re meeting his parents?”
Darcy’s cheeks were pink. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It sort of is,” Rachelle said. “That’s an enormous step in a relationship.”
Darcy swatted Rachelle’s arm. “If I think about it too much, I freak out.”
Rachelle kept quiet for a moment. She understood what Darcy meant. Sometimes, she panicked if she fixated too hard on the love she harbored for Eddie. It felt as though time was rushing her toward some kind of conclusion, as though her mid-twenties would rush away from her, and she’d be forced to make real decisions soon.
In so many ways, the world she and Darcy enjoyed right now was remarkable and free. They lived alongside one another; they did everything they wanted to when they wanted to. The future was wide open. But the minute they got serious with the men in their lives, this dreamy period would end just like that. And Rachelle wanted to appreciate it before it melted away.
Eddie arrived a few minutes before Steven, which gave him points. He was dressed in dark jeans and a dark button-down, and his hair was especially “flippy,” like out of a shampoo commercial.
“Evening,” he said, cutting both dimples for her.
“Hey,” Rachelle breathed, wavering from foot to foot. “You remember my sister, Darcy?”
Eddie nodded. “What’s up, Darcy? How are you doing?”
Darcy wasn’t immune to Eddie’s charms. She smiled bigger than normal and said, “Not bad! I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get here.”
Darcy had never called Steven her boyfriend before. Rachelle raised her eyebrows and grinned.
Eddie drove a dark red pickup truck that had rust on the bottom. Rachelle had seen him driving it across the island for many years, and she associated it with rugged American promise, people like Jack Kerouac or Kurt Vonnegut. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe she could romanticize anything. Maybe that was part of her talent.
“So Rach,” Eddie said, drumming across the steering wheel as they went along, “how would you feel about a short sail before we grab dinner?”
Rachelle knew Eddie was a sailor. Many men across the island were seasoned sailors, tremendously passionate and intelligent when it came to the sea and how to travel across it. Rachelle had been many times, but it always frightened her to be rocking aboard a strange vessel over a massive ocean. It never escaped her that the sea was a frightening, incomprehensive beast.
Eddie’s sailboat was rickety and worn. He led her aboard by touching the small of her back, then told her to sit and enjoy herself as he got everything ready. He whistled as he untied them and lifted the sails, showing off the knots of his muscular arms, which shone in the dramatic orange light of the late afternoon.
“Check that cabinet beside you,” Eddie instructed, pointing.
Rachelle opened it to find a bottle of red wine, plenty of coffee mugs from various ports across the East Coast, and snacks like peanuts and chips.
