Chapter 34: Putting Two and Two Together


    Thursday evening was the lobster boil on the beach. Normally, Bree would be excited to attend, but


    under the circumstances, she didn’t want to go. Sure, it might be fun to eat lobster and corn on the cob,


    amongst other things, beneath the moon and stars and listen to the wavesp against the shore. But


    Hank’s words had yed over and over again in her mind all day, so by the time she was supposed to


    be heading to the beach, she was sitting on the couch in her room instead, staring out the window at


    the descending sun, wondering what she should do.


    Her phone rang, and she nced down to see it was Lilly. She was probably calling from the beach,


    asking where she was. Not that it was like Lilly to notice when she wasn’t around that week, but in


    fairness, she had been unbelievably busy trying to make sure Monica had everything she needed.


    “Hello?”


    “Hey. Have you left your room yet?”


    “Not yet,” she admitted, looking around as if she wasn’t sure if that were true or not. “What’s up?”


    “I was just thinking, maybe you could bring your guitar. It might be nice to sit around the fire and sing


    some songs.”


    “Oh.” Bree wasn’t sure what to say to that. It hadn’t crossed her mind that anyone would want her to do


    that. “I guess I can.” She’d brought her favorite guitar, the one her grandmother had given her when


    she was younger. She hoped nothing happened to it. Thoughts of getting sand in it, or someone


    stepping on it, or Monica losing her shit and throwing it into the fire all made her shake.


    Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    “Awesome. You shoulde on out. The boil’s on, and a lot of the guys are ying football. Dwayne’s


    asking about you.”


    She made thatstment in a sing-song voice, and Bree felt herself blushing. Dwayne was hot, and


    he’d been paying a lot of attention to her since the volleyball game, but she wasn’t really interested in


    him. If she messed around with Dwayne it would only be because she couldn’t have Trent, and that


    wasn’t fair to anyone. That didn’t make her cheeks any less red.


    “I’ll be there soon.” They hung up, and Bree decided it was time to get herself up off of the couch.


    Taking her guitar case from the closet, she headed out, hoping everything went better tonight than it


    had at any of their other recent get togethers.


    She followed the sound ofughter down the beach, not certain she was headed in the right direction


    until she saw Monica’s statuesque form outlined against the fading sun. There were lots of groups of


    people partying on the beach, but Monica stood out for certain, even amongst her gorgeous friends. It


    was no wonder Trent had decided to go ahead and marry her. Who wouldn’t want to marry a woman


    who looked like that?


    The voice in the back of her head whispered, “Trent wouldn’t. She’s shallow. And mean. And nasty.


    And she’s not you.” But that was just hope speaking, and it’s voice was a whisper because it was about


    to fade away forever.


    Hank spotted her first, and she saw the look of relief wash across his face as she arrived. Staff from the


    resort was working on the food. Plenty of tables were set up, and a few guests were sitting at them


    drinking while others were ying catch with the football or sitting on nkets in the sand, drinks in


    their hands. She saw Trent, going long for a pass thrown by Dwayne, and tried not to stare at him.


    God, he was a magnificent specimen of a man. So perfectly sculpted, so handsome, so… nice. Could


    he actually marry Monica and be happy? She didn’t think so. Maybe she would be doing him a favor by


    convincing him to break up with her--if she could even do that.


    Sitting by the small fire, sipping a beer, Hank looked morose. She still hadn’t quite figured out why he


    was so upset about this entire situation. His posture reminded her of that night at Christy’s party when


    he’d been upset that that girl wouldn’t date him. What was her name?


    He looked up at her then, and she pictured what he’d said about her, how upset he’d been that she


    wouldn’t do anything but sleep with him. And then it hit her. Like a monsoon wave crashing into her


    stomach, Bree almost dropped her guitar as she thought back years into their past. Could it really be?


    Had he been talking about who she now thought he’d been talking about? It had to be her! He’d been


    upset about a beautiful woman who was ashamed of him--a beautiful woman he called Mon.