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“The one you do Taco Tuesday with?”
She looked as if she couldn’t believe he remembered such a tiny detail. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Or at least one of them. There are two. Krissy and Cami are the best. Cami owns The Local Bean where you got this coffee, good choice by the way, it’s the best, and Krissy owns Scoops. Her great aunt left it to her.”
“That was nice.”
“Her aunt knew out of everyone in their family Krissy was the only one who wouldn’t sell it as soon as she was buried.”
“Which she didn’t,” he assumed.
“Nope. It’s been hers for three years now, and she loves it.”
“I’ll have to stop by and have a cone. I’d invite you along, but I wouldn’t want to risk anyone seeing us.” He gently nudged her shoulder as she was about to take a sip of her coffee.
She froze mid sip and glanced up at him. “It’s just how it has to be.”
“I get it.” In the beginning he didn’t, but after witnessing their grandfathers going head-to-head, he was starting to understand.
“You do?” she asked, her brows turning inward.
“For now, at least.”
“You’re leaving in a couple weeks so to send our families into a civil war seems pointless.”
“Aren’t they already on the battle field?” he asked.
“Good point. Let’s just not add any more fuel to the fire.”
He nodded. “So… you never told me what makes this place your favorite.”
“There’s a story.”
He laughed. “Why am I not surprised? It seems all small-towns have their stories.”
“This one in particular is pretty great. It ends in tragedy, as do most urban legends, but it’s still very romantic.”
“I’m listening.”
“The lighthouse was constructed in the early 1800’s, but this story takes place years later in 1896. There was a vicious storm, what we east coasters call a Nor’easter. There was a mix of high tides, hurricane force winds, and snow, causing white out conditions along the coast. The keeper had taken ill several days earlier, and his betrothed had been worried since she hadn’t had word from him since. So she braved the storm to go check and make sure he was all right.”
“She didn’t make it, did she?”
“No. But they didn’t find her body until spring when the snow finally melted. The keeper had been holding out hope, and when the body was discovered he was beside himself. That night he went to the top of the lighthouse and jumped. They say on the first big storm of the year you can hear her calling for him.”
“This is a terrible story!” he exclaimed.
“It’sromantic.”
“What’s romantic about a woman freezing to death and a man plunging to his death?”
“She sacrificed her safety for him, and he couldn’t live without her.”
“It’s morbid.”
“That’s your opinion,” she said with a sassy tilt of her head.
“So that’s why you like this place. Because of that awful story?” he asked.
“Partly, but mainly because my mom used to bring me here before she passed.” She smiled, but he could tell it was forced.
