An Endless Summer(43)

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I croaked back.

“They said you were in here.”

“Do you need me to leave for a minute?”

“Oh, no, no, I came to see you. You calmed down now?”

I wanted to say I had, but the emotions running through me now made me anything but calm. And now that Sean was here my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Sean closed the distance between us, and my heart pounded faster as he reached out and took the cloth from my hand.

“Come on, two of us will get this done quicker.”

We set on scrubbing away the graffiti, which was now just a large, black, indistinguishable smudge. Relief filled me with every scrub as I dipped the cloth into the now lukewarm water.

I couldn’t help but break the silence with what was at the forefront of my mind.

“Are you in trouble?”

Sean paused mid-scrub and cast me a questioning look. I rolled my eyes.

“With Chris.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you might have been forbidden to come in here or something.”

A smile spread across his face that I didn’t expect.

He coughed. “I don’t think I have been ‘forbidden’ to do something since I was five years old.”

That wasn’t an answer so I just stared at him.

“Chris is cool. All is well.”

Oh goody!

I really needed to curb my inner sarcastic voice.

With both of us working on it, the wall was as good as new in no time, the horrible drawing just a memory.

We stood back and admired our handiwork.

“We’ve created a clean spot,” I said.

“I don’t think these walls have been disinfected for … well … ever.” Sean glanced around with a look of distaste and he tossed the cloth into the bucket I held, filled with mucky water.

“Thanks,” I said. “You always seem to be helping me clean up a mess.”

“You’ve certainly livened things up around here.” He took the bucket from me and we both gladly exited the men’s room.

After scrubbing my hands elbow deep in boiling hot water, I dragged my feet into the poolroom where I slumped onto the couch, zoning out of the conversation. I was exhausted, physically from pub room brawling and emotionally from Chris’s drama and disapproval. And Sean – what was with that tonight? Not to mention that I smelt like a urinal.

“Earth to Amy.”

I lifted my head from my hands. “Huh?”

Tess sat on the arm of the couch, touching the top of my hair. Chris stood beside her.

“Poor thing,” Tess said. “You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah, bar-room brawling will do that to you,” Sean said over the crack of the pool cue against the billiard balls. I just ignored him.

“Did you hear anything we just said?” Chris asked, annoyed.

“Sorry, what?”

Toby laughed and plonked himself on the couch opposite us. He crossed his legs on top of the coffee table and folded his arms behind his head. “Looks like someone is going to have to be carried up the stairs tonight.”

I yawned my words out. “I’m alriigggghhht.”

“Pfft, totally,” Stan laughed, turning from the jukebox.

Tess cut them down with a stern look. “What we were saying is we should have a fundraiser for the pub.”

My interest was piqued and I sat up straight. “What kind of fundraiser?”

“Save the Onslow,” Chris said.

“No.” Tess shook her head. “It should be something to do with your dad, get all the locals together as a kind of community spirit thing to help out in his time of need. We could hold a sausage sizzle and promote a working bee or something.”

My shoulders slumped. “What if nobody comes?”

“That’s a hell of a thing to say,” Sean snapped, mid-stride as he lined up to take a shot.

My eyes raised in surprise. “Is it?”

“Yeah, it is.” He challenged me. An awkward silence broke out over the group as Sean and I faced off.

I gave him a bored look. “Well, guess you would know; you seem to know everything.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on your old man. Believe it or not he is well respected in Onslow and there are a lot of people out there that will help.” He leaned over to take his shot as if automatically ending the conversation, dismissing the idea that I would have anything to add. My blood began to boil.

“Is that right, is it? Well answer me this then: Where are they now? Because I don’t exactly see anyone breaking down the door with casseroles and get-well cards to see if Dad is okay. Actually, I haven’t seen a goddamned soul around here, except for sleazy, troublemaking blow-ins who only want to rip the place off.”