Unforgettable Summer Read online

  I kept babbling for a few more minutes before I realized Claire had gone back to sleep.

  I quickly changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. I guess I should have showered, because my skin was sticky with salt, but I didn’t care. It would get old after a few weeks, but for now it was perfect, unlike the rock-hard cot I was lying on top of. Maybe I’d be more comfortable sleeping on the sandy beach, under the stars, I thought as I snuggled under the covers.

  I thought of the way Hayden had looked at me as we both sprinted into the ocean, racing each other to be first to dive in. Afterward we’d all sat around the bonfire to warm up and dry off, and I’d caught him looking at me a few times across the fire.

  So what? So you’re kind of—or more than kind of—attracted to him, I thought as I tried to fall asleep. You’re not here to fall in love over the summer. That would only make everything really complicated.

  You’re here to save money for college, and just have fun, I reminded myself.

  But . . . wouldn’t being in love be fun?

  CHAPTER 3

  Vacuuming. I hate vacuuming.

  I ran the heavy industrial vacuum around the room, starting near the window and working my way backward to the bed. This was my fifth guest room so far, and I was cruising, nearly done with my block of rooms. I’d been lucky and nothing too challenging (or disgusting) had come up yet.

  Although there was one challenge: The vacuum had superstrong sucking power and would sort of take off on its own if you didn’t keep a tight grip on the handle. I could totally picture it taking off down the hall, cleaning everything in its path—and knocking down a few people, too. It seemed sort of possessed, like something you’d encounter in a horror novel. The fact that Mr. Knight, the “Clean Team” supervisor, had named all the vacuums, and this one was the “Hulk,” worried me.

  Mr. Knight had spent a few hours with us the day before, going over procedures, like how we could use special sticky tape to lift sand out of hard-to-clean places. He’d tested us by making rooms dirty and then having us clean them. He literally had white gloves he used to test our “surfaces,” as he called them.

  My test went something like this:

  Mr. Knight: “And would you say that this is clean?”

  Me: “Ye-es.”

  Him: “You call this clean.”

  Me: “Yes.”

  Him: “Really.”

  And then he showed me the white glove, which was not so white.

  “So this is what they mean by commercial strength,” I mumbled now as I kept vacuuming. I was being extra thorough, as instructed, so I pushed the vacuum underneath the bed and moved it around searching for “Inn bunnies,” as Mr. Knight called them. Suddenly I heard a loud whirring sound. Uh oh, I thought, quickly shutting off the vacuum. Had it eaten the bedspread?

  I pulled the Hulk toward me, but the wheels wouldn’t roll—they were jammed. And then I smelled something burning.

  I quickly unplugged the vacuum and laid it on the floor. A black belt was wrapped around the roller on the bottom—and I didn’t think it was part of the vacuum. I got down on my hands and knees and started to tug on the belt. Suddenly I saw a pair of feet in shiny black loafers standing beside the vacuum.

  I looked up with a feeling of dread.

  “What is going on here?” Mr. Knight demanded. “Have you broken the Hulk?”

  “What? Come on, no one can bring down the Hulk,” I joked.

  “What have you done, Liza? It smells like you slipped a belt,” he said.

  “Something like that.” Slipped one, devoured another. No steps forward, two steps back. I tugged at the belt that had gotten sucked into the vacuum, but no matter how hard I pulled, I couldn’t get it free.

  “Let me see that.” Mr. Knight crouched beside me and examined the vacuum’s rollers. “You’ve ruined it,” he said sadly. “I think you’ve ruined it.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Maybe if we both pull really hard—”

  “No, this requires a professional. Leave it.” He stood up and brushed the dust off his knees. I reluctantly got to my feet, too. “I’ll need to fix up the vacuum before we can get anything else done here. You’re excused, for now.”

  “Excused?” I asked. That didn’t sound good, at all.

  “Free to go. Take a walk. I’ll contact you later about making up the lost time,” Mr. Knight said. “You can work a double shift tomorrow.”

  “Great. Sounds great,” I said, faking a smile. And after that, I’ll do a triple shift, and then a quadruple shift . . . But as much as I hated cleaning, I’d do anything he asked in order to stick around and make up for my mistake. “And I’m really sorry about the Hulk. And the belt.”

  “What belt?”

  I turned around and saw a man in tennis whites, holding a couple of racquets, in the doorway.

  Time to make my escape, I thought as I edged toward the doorway. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize your belt was under the bed, and the vacuum didn’t either until it was too late—”

  “You ruined my belt? My Etienne Lavager belt? Do you know how much those cost?” the guest demanded.

  “It may not be ruined,” Mr. Knight said. “Just one moment.” Finally he managed to unhook the belt from the vacuum roller, and it whipped through the air as it came free, snapping against the bedpost. When he held it up, there was a big crease in the middle and the edges were frayed.

  Mr. Knight cleared his throat. “Of course, the Inn will reimburse you for the belt.”

  “You don’t understand. That’s the only belt I have with me.”

  Great. Now I was responsible for this guy’s pants falling down, too.

  “I’ll need a replacement. Or twice the replacement value,” the guest demanded.

  “Certainly, sir, certainly.” While Mr. Knight scrambled to make things right, I hurriedly ducked out into the hallway. I walked down the hall to the stairway at the end as quickly as I could. If this guy ever got his belt back, he’d probably try to strangle me with it.

  So, Day One on the job had been a bit problematic. But in my defense? I’d told them not to put me in housekeeping! This sort of thing wouldn’t happen at the front desk, I thought as I walked through the lobby, where Caroline was busy chatting with a couple of guests. I would be great at her job—and I wouldn’t be at risk of getting fired. Though I couldn’t exactly say this was all Caroline’s fault, I wanted to, anyway.

  I was almost out the door when I heard sandals skittering on the floor behind me. “Beth, where are you going?”

  I turned around. Caroline was hurrying up to me. “Is everything okay? You look upset. Aren’t you supposed to still be working?”

  I looked at her for a second. I could tell her everything that had just happened. That was clearly what she wanted me to do, for some reason. We could laugh about it, or maybe I’d end up crying. But she was the last person I wanted to tell about my rocky start at the Inn. I had a feeling she’d enjoy it too much. “Everything’s just fine,” I said. “I finished early.” Then I smiled, because that wasn’t a lie—just a different take on things. “See you later!”

  I grabbed my iPod and headed out for a walk along the winding oceanfront road. I took my time, admiring the beautiful large homes that faced the sea. I just tried to enjoy breathing in the salt air, while I calmed down by listening to loud music.

  I could give up, go home, get back together with Mark. . . . I could do the same old thing I did last summer. But that wasn’t me. I didn’t quit things. Definitely not after one day. When I was second team on the volleyball team, I worked my way up to captain. When I bombed my SATs on the first take, I took them again and again.

  After walking for a while, I came around a curve and saw fellow newbie Josh, walking from the other direction. He had a small brown bag from the candy shop in one hand and a can of energy drink in the other.

  “You know it’s a wealthy little town when the only shopping options are seafood, candy, and crafts,” he said when we go
t closer. He brushed his sandy-brown hair out of his eyes.

  “Postcards everywhere. Food? Not so much,” I said. “Right?”

  “Yeah, I was hoping for a burger and fries, but I guess you have to have a car for that.” He held up the small bag. “I’ve got Smarties and Laffy Taffy, though.”

  I laughed. “Those should hold you over until dinner. So how was the job this morning?”

  “Brainless. I made a few mistakes, but nothing major.”

  “Hm. Wish I could say the same.” I explained about the housekeeping disaster, how I had mangled a belt and brought down the Inn’s most cherished vacuum. “They’ll probably ask me to leave, so I figured I should walk around and enjoy the scenery before I go.”

  “Leave? You’re not going to leave.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Mistakes happen, right? Like this morning, when I brought the wrong order to the table where the younger Mr. Talbot was sitting with this guy who turned out to be president of the country club. They had a cow. But no, I’m not getting fired. Actually they didn’t even complain all that much, just made a bunch of comments about squeaky wheels on opening day.”

  “Well, I must have been the squeakiest. Or maybe the smelliest. The vacuum practically started smoking.”

  “Doesn’t it know that’s harmful to its health?” Josh asked, and I laughed. “And you—you were exposed to secondhand vacuum smoke, so you can sue the hotel if they try to get rid of you. Anyway, where are you going? Postcards or candy?”

  “Just for a walk. Visiting my old favorite places from when my family used to vacation here,” I said. I debated whether to tell him where I was headed, but decided to keep it to myself, for now. I kind of felt like I needed some more time by myself.

  “So, is it turning into one of those you-can’t-go-home-again experiences?” Josh asked.

  “Not yet. Anyway, see you around. Enjoy that candy.”

  Actually there was an off-the-main-road little coffee shop called Sally’s Tea Room that I knew about. Maybe it was mean of me, but I didn’t want to tell Josh and spoil it—not yet. I figured the place could be my escape, if it was still around—I hadn’t been here the summer before, and I was hoping it hadn’t vanished.

  It was located inside an old, vacated bait shop, and the tiny sign by the door didn’t give much away. Sally used to say she didn’t want any tourists—just locals who got close enough to see that little NO MORE BAIT—JUST COFFEE sign.

  I opened the door and went inside. Sally was still there, behind the counter, and the place was lively—all six tables were full. I said hello to her and ordered a large coffee. When I turned around from putting milk in my cup, I nearly dropped it on my feet.

  Hayden was sitting at one of the tables. He wore deep orange-red lifeguard shorts and a white tee, and he was reading a book. “Hey, new girl,” he said when he saw me.

  “El—”

  “Elizabeth. I know.” He smiled. “Actually it’s Liza. Have a seat.” He pushed out the empty chair opposite him with his foot.

  I smiled.

  “You can call me Hayden,” he said. “In case you forgot.”

  I hadn’t.

  “But not ‘Hay’ for short. It’s a little too barn-friendly,” he said.

  “Besides, then people would say things like ‘Hey, Hay,’ which would be annoying,” I pointed out.

  “That’s already happened. Way too many times.” Hayden rolled his eyes. “So don’t start, okay?”

  I pointed to the paperback thriller he was reading. “I read that a couple weeks ago. It’s good, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I kind of can’t put it down. That’s why I escaped here to read on my lunch break. Do you read a lot?”

  “Tons,” I said. “But not as much as Claire, I don’t think—you should see how many books she brought.”

  “Good, I’ll know where to go to borrow some then,” Hayden said.

  I smiled, thinking of the chick-lit novels Claire had unpacked. It was weird. A bunch of people were snobby, but Hayden didn’t appear to be, which was cool considering he could be. He was the one who’d worked at the Inn three summers straight, and he seemed to sort of call the shots around the place.

  “How did you know about this place?” he asked.

  “My family used to vacation here, remember?” I said. “Why, did you think you discovered it?”

  He laughed. “Kind of. This is my hideout. Not that I need to hide. I’m just saying, I come here to get away from the Inn. To read. Anyway, how’s it going?”

  “That depends.” I took a sip of coffee. I knew I should be having herbal tea, to soothe my frazzled nerves, but that just isn’t like me. Once I get totally frazzled, I tend to like to stay that way. Being mellow and laid-back is overrated, anyway. “Is getting talked to by the housekeeping supervisor on your first day a good thing?”

  “Oh no. Tell me you’re not working for Uptight Knight,” Hayden said.

  “Perfect nickname,” I murmured. “And I don’t know if I’m still working for him.”

  “Did you know he’s in the family?” Hayden said.

  “He is? You mean, in the Inn family?” I asked. “Is that redundant?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, he’s some Talbot cousin or other. He’s not Mr. Talbot Junior’s first cousin, I don’t think, maybe he’s one of those twice-removed-type deals.”

  I sighed. “Great. I think I’m about to be twice-removed, then.” Was it too soon to call my grandfather and ask him to put in another good word for me?

  “No, don’t worry, nobody likes him,” Hayden said.

  “Good,” I sighed.

  “Not even Mr. Talbot Senior,” Hayden added. “Supposedly he had to give him a job because he was in the family, so they stuck him with housekeeping.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Is that where they put all the people they don’t like?”

  Hayden laughed. “No! Well, at least I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

  “Great. Thanks. So you’re the lifeguard?” I asked.

  “One of them,” he said. “Plus I drive the Inn shuttle van, usually in the evening, unless something different comes up. You know, we pick up guests at the train station. There’s a train that gets in around seven—at least it’s supposed to—from New York, and one from Boston that gets in slightly later.”

  “I love taking the train,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, me, too,” Hayden said. “That’s how I got here. See—” Hayden’s cell phone rang, and he pushed his chair back from the table. “Sorry. I’ll see you around, okay?” Then he went outside to take the call, which I have to say was kind of rude and kind of polite at the same time.

  We were under strict orders never to use phones while we were on duty, not even to check our voice mail or e-mail. They were strictly for downtime, which meant I was planning to call my friends at home during my breaks and lunch hour. I took my phone out of my pocket and just as I did, it started to ring. I didn’t recognize the number on my caller ID, but I picked up anyway.

  “Hey, Liza? Miss Crossley was just here looking for you,” Claire said.

  I nearly choked on my coffee. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. She wants to talk to you about something. I’m really sorry, but I gave her your number—I had to!”

  “It’s okay. Hey, how was sailing?”

  “There were like ten kids for one boat. I’m just hanging out in our room for a couple of minutes recovering before my afternoon session.” She paused. “In comparison to your job, not so bad, I guess. How was scrubbing toilets?”

  I laughed. “That went okay, but then I trashed the vacuum cleaner.” My phone started to beep, as another call came in. “I’ll explain later—see you!”

  “Is this Liza McKenzie?” Miss Crossley asked when I answered. “Where are you?”

  “I’m on my lunch break.” I supposed you could call it that. “In fact, I was just talking to Hayden. He’s here on his break, too.” I figured dropping his name couldn’t hurt.

  “Where is
here, Liza? I need to talk to you now.” Miss Crossley clearly was not impressed. “Could you meet me in my office in five minutes?”

  “I don’t think I can get there that fast. How about in fifteen?” I suggested, feeling very nervous. Had Mr. Knight gone to find her after he’d yelled at me? Was I going to be fired already?

  Remember what Josh said, I told myself. They’re not going to fire you. They won’t. They can’t. Not so close to the start of the season.

  Of course, I’d been hired off the waiting list. Which meant there was probably still a waiting list.

  “Ten minutes, Liza,” Miss Crossley said.

  I guessed that was her idea of compromising. “That’s great!” I said.

  How many times was I going to be phony and say that today? I was getting kind of unimpressed with myself.

  I tossed my cup into the trash, waved good-bye to Sally, and hurried outside. To my surprise, Hayden was standing there. He was closing his phone with a snap, and about to climb on a bicycle. He looked around as I came out the door.

  “Can I borrow that?” I asked, pointing to his bike. “Miss Crossley’s kind of breathing down my neck—or cell phone anyway—she wants me there in ten minutes and I don’t think I can run that fast.”

  “I have a better idea,” Hayden said. “Why don’t we both ride?”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “Easy. I pedal, you sit on the handlebars.”

  “You sure that will work? I’m kind of tall,” I said.

  “Well, you could sit on the seat and I could stand and pedal,” Hayden suggested.

  I eyed the bike, which was a cruiser style with fat tires. “Where did you get this, anyway?” I asked.

  “Oh, there’s a shed out behind the Inn. It’s got tons of old stuff like this. They used to be for nice bike rentals but they’re really old.”

  “And anyone can use them?” I asked.

  “Sure. You just need a key to the shed.” He smiled and held up a small key. There was a semiarrogant tone that went with that, but I didn’t mind. He had a bike—I needed one. “Climb on,” he said.