Millie waves a hand through the air. “You don’t want to hear this stuff.”
“I do,” Ava says quickly.
“Agreed,” I pipe in.
“Agreed,” Nicholas echoes me, and I get the feeling like he’d agree with anything I say now that I’ve taught him how to surf.
“Well, I’d get a liquor license. I know it can be expensive and a lot of red tape, but it’s the main reason we don’t have a big dinner crowd. And dinner can be a huge moneymaker that we’ve never really tapped into because people like to have a drink when they eat dinner.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Ava says.
“Alcohol’s gross. It smells like medicine,” Nicholas interjects. “I think you need to serve milkshakes.”
“Milkshakes,” Millie ponders. “That’s actually a really good idea, Nicholas. I mean, we’re a diner. Why don’t we have milkshakes on the menu?”
“Milkshakes and alcohol,” Ava notes as though she’s writing a checkoff list. “I’m liking that. Maybe even boozy milkshakes for tired moms like me?”
“Consider it done.” Millie’s smile widens, and I love to see it.
I’ve enjoyed thinking about the possibility that she might take that consulting firm job in Savannah. I’ve even dared to think—in that scenario, with me living so close to her workplace—she might let our paths cross again, even when summer is behind us.
But as much as I like that idea, I can’t get past thinking that a job in a consulting firm wouldn’t excite her as much as the prospect of owning her own restaurant.
I want that for her. I want her to feel the same way she made me feel when I pictured myself starting a nonprofit after I retire.
Her eyes flash suddenly, as though recollecting something. “And I’d put in a walk-up window. We already have the perfect spot for it, right by the cash register. That way people don’t even have to come in to pick up their to-go orders. And I’d put pre-packed picnic lunches on the menu. With us being so close to the beach, it would be a natural.”
“Like the sandwiches Bo made for us?” Ava asks, glancing toward our pile of nearly empty to-go boxes to the side of our towels. “That’s brilliant.”
“Those fries were so good. But maybe chips would be better because they won’t get cold,” Nicholas pipes in.
Millie goes slack-jawed for a moment and shakes her head at him. “Yeah, chips would definitely go better for a picnic. Nicholas, you’ve got more business smarts in you than most of the people I went to school with at Stanford.”
Ava laughs. “I’ve always said he’s got an adult brain in a kid body.”
“What else do you think I should have in the diner, Nicholas?” Millie turns fully toward him like his input right now is more important than anything she learned while she was getting her MBA.
It makes me think what a great mom she’ll be one day, as I watch them talk. If I had a parent who looked at me like she’s looking at him… if I had someone who sought out and valued my ideas like she is right now with Nicholas, growing up would have been so different for me.
Yet I can’t regret the way I grew up either. Because it brought me to this point in time, where I get to meet Millie and sit on this beach with her family eating club sandwiches and cold fries after a surfing lesson.
Life is funny that way. All the bad stuff can lead to something good, something you want to hold onto.Someoneyou want to hold onto.
My gut pinches slightly at the thought that I don’t get to.I don’t get to hold onto Millie.
And then it cinches up more at a brutal realization.
Holy shit. I’ve fallen in love with her.
Here I am, sitting on a beach with a family that isn’t even mine, with a girl who doesn’t want a future with me, and it’s still one of my best days I’ve had recently.
And I’m in love with her.
Well, that’s going to mess with my brain for the next week until I pack my things and leave.
And it will mess with me a lot longer than that.