New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan (fun books to read for adults .TXT) 📕

He laughed. “I should’ve told her ages ago. She said she was some glad we came to our senses because we weren’t a good match. And I told her I’d found a better match.”

“Who?”

He kissed my nose. “You. Right from the first day when I saw you slammed up against the blackboard.”

“Now there’s an image I’d like you to forget.”

“And you’re so sparky.”

“What am I? A battery?”

“See!” he said, pointing a finger at me. “Like that, I loves those little zingers. And your enthusiasm. You makes things happen.” He pulled me in close and finally kissed me. Then he released me and whispered, “You makes me happy.”

I took his hand and led him upstairs to my bedroom. But once we crossed the threshold, I hung back.

“Let’s take it slow,” Doug said. “I wants it to be special.” He picked me up and carried me over to the bed, then lay down beside me, stroking my hair.

I thought of that time he’d taken me fishing, how his strong hands had steadied me when I jumped into the boat. I put my hand to his cheek and felt its softness. Then he took my hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing my fingers.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Was I? I thought about the last time I’d been with Jake, and the aftermath. For what seemed a long time, I didn’t answer, just stared at Doug.

But then I nodded and leaned in to kiss him. Then he was kissing me back and I slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. I ran my hands over his chest, pausing to examine a cluster of freckles on his shoulder. I wanted to map every bit of him. I pulled my T-shirt off and Doug propped himself up on his elbow and traced the outline of my bra with his finger. Then we were tumbling into each other, headlong, full tilt, down, down into the deep.

Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms, sleepy and content.

“I s’pose you’ll be going back to Toronto for a bit once school ends,” Doug said. “I finally got you and now you’re leaving.”

“Not for a while,” I said. “I want to see my mom but she’s not back until August. Come with me. We could do a road trip.”

“Not in your car,” said Doug, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “It would never make it. And I’ll bring you to the cabin. There’s no electricity and no one for miles around.”

“And we’ll go to our cottage,” I said. “Mom and I haven’t been up since Dad died. But we can make new memories there.”

“It’s a good thing we’re teachers,” Doug said, pulling me close. “We needs the whole summer to fit all these plans in.”

39

The school year was over and it was time for the garden party. As I drove towards Little Cove, the sun was weak in the sky, overpowered by thick, grey clouds.

“Please don’t let it rain,” I said on auto-repeat until I pulled into the parking lot. The schoolyard was a frenzy of activity. A group of senior boys, supervised by Patrick, were in the midst of lugging large trestle tables and chairs into the gym, where tea and baked goods would be served, courtesy of the local women. Just outside the gym doors, picnic tables and chairs were arranged for a refreshment area. Meanwhile, Eddie Churchill and Roy Sullivan were reinforcing a makeshift outdoor stage for the musicians: Phonse, Johnny’s Crew and me.

I found Doug in the staff room. When I fretted about the weather, he smiled and said, “Sure, it wouldn’t be a garden party without a passing shower.”

He was on bingo duty, and after sneaking a quick kiss, jogged off to the gym to set up the PA system. I wandered around looking for Mike. He’d left a message on my answering machine to say that he and the cameraman would meet me at the school.

I went back outside, passing a variety of local people setting up booths to sell baked goods, jams, quilts and other handiwork. Elsewhere students finalized educational displays.

After a few minutes I headed back inside and found Mike in the gym, chatting to Doug, and gave him a hug. He introduced me to the cameraman.

“Are you in charge?” asked the cameraman. “It’s too dark outside, we won’t get anything in the can.”

“If you don’t like the weather, stick around,” I said, glad of the chance to use the local saying. But then I had to explain the joke, thereby rendering it unfunny.

“Don’t you worry, my son,” said Patrick, who had arrived for the tail end of the conversation. “The sun’ll be splitting the rocks before you knows it.”

As ten o’clock approached, I headed to the parking lot entrance for ticket duty. There was no gate and half the community was already inside setting up, but a few people began to trickle in, handing me their tickets.

“Hiya, Miss O’Brine,” said Georgie, walking with Charlie, who was pushing their son in a stroller. Mrs. Piercey stopped to say hello and I forgot to ask her for a ticket.

Ten minutes later, the flow of people was so thick that I gave up, abandoning my post. Every inch of the schoolyard was full of people. Georgie took Alfie out of his stroller; he squirmed in her arms and she handed him off to Charlie.

“Take him, will ya? He got me drove with his wriggling.”

Charlie took him, giving Georgie a kiss on the cheek. Then he went to inspect the booths, jiggling his son expertly.

“Did you hear I’m staying on next year?” I asked Georgie.

“Yis, everyone’s right pleased.”

“I was thinking about trialling a French class in the evening, for people who wanted to earn a credit. I really hope you’ll join. Mr. Donovan says your French is excellent.”

She was watching Charlie over at the stalls. I followed her gaze to where he was talking to Sister Mary Catherine. The nun reached up to chook Alfie’s chin and he batted his fist at her wimple.

“I don’t