“Is everything okay?” Mom asked, still looking relatively unconcerned. Ellie and Quinn had been best friends since they were five, and if the O’Neills had learned one thing in that time, it was that Quinn had a flair for the dramatic. Her definition of an emergency was a little more flexible than everyone else’s.
“Okay?” Quinn said, her eyes widening. “I have a date with Graham Larkin.”
There were a few beats of silence as this announcement settled over them. The moment Quinn said his name Ellie was surprised to be reminded of those eyes of his, and she blinked hard to shake loose the memory. Just behind her, Mom was shrugging her shoulders, mystified.
“Who’s Graham Larking?” she asked, and Quinn gave her a stern look.
“Graham Larkin,” she said, “is only one of the biggest stars in the world.”
Ellie laughed at the expression on Mom’s face, which was still utterly blank. “He’s in those magician movies,” she explained, “and now he’s the star of whatever they’re filming here.”
“And you’re going out with him?” Mom said to Quinn, who raised and then lowered her chin. “I haven’t been outside all day. Are there movie stars just wandering around town looking for dates?”
“He was in Sprinkles,” Ellie explained. “And he must have thought Quinn was at least as irresistible as the ice cream. By the way, who’s watching the shop?”
Quinn waved a hand in the air, as if this were a matter of little importance. “I left Devon there,” she told them. “He said he could handle it on his own. I need your help to get ready.”
Ellie couldn’t help feeling sorry for poor Devon Alexander, who’d been in love with Quinn for years now, and probably had no idea he was covering their busiest hours alone so she could get ready for her date with a movie star.
“Well,” Mom said, grabbing a red rubber ball from the jar beside the register and tossing it absently from one hand to the other, “you’ve come to the right place. I’m proud of my daughter for a great many things, but most particularly for her fashion sense…”
“Very funny,” Ellie said, glancing down at what she was wearing: a jean skirt, a plain white tank top, and black rubber flip-flops, which was pretty much her summer uniform.
“I really just need her for moral support,” Quinn said, hopping to her feet. “Is it okay if she knocks off early?”
“I just got here…” Ellie began, but Mom was nodding.
“It’s okay,” she said, still juggling the red ball. “Really. We can’t send Quinn off on a date with a major celebrity without a little help, can we?”
There was a teasing note in her voice, but Quinn was too distracted to pick up on it. “Exactly,” she said, rocking back on her heels. Everything about her was wound too tight, and she couldn’t stop fidgeting. “I mean, it’s a big deal. You should’ve seen all the cameras at the shop this afternoon. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like tonight…”
Mom fumbled the ball, which fell to the floor, glancing off a bin full of snorkeling gear and then rolling off into a corner. “Cameras, huh?”
“Yeah, tons of them,” Quinn was saying, while Ellie remained frozen, her gaze focused on the wooden floor in an attempt to avoid Mom’s eyes. “They’re all camped out by the set right now, but I’m sure they’ll be following him around later.” She paused, not noticing the strained look on the faces of her audience. “Paparazzi in Henley. Crazy, right?”
“Yeah,” Ellie said, looking sideways at Mom. “It is.”
“Too bad I don’t want to be an actress. Or a reality-TV star or something,” Quinn said. “This would be such a great opportunity.”
“Yes,” Mom said, regaining herself. “It’s a terrible shame you only want to be a marine biologist. I suppose it would be much more useful to have been asked out to dinner by a whale.”
Quinn laughed. “They’re terrible conversationalists, though.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to make do with the movie star,” Mom said with a smile. “Just be careful of those photographers, okay?”
“I will,” Quinn said. “I’ve read enough gossip magazines to know not to wear my skirt too short.”
“That’s not quite what I meant,” Mom said. “But you’re right. Better go find something appropriate to wear. Your wardrobe specialist is officially free for the afternoon.”
“Thanks, Mrs. O,” Quinn said, grabbing Ellie’s wrist and pulling her toward the door, already rattling off all the things they’d need to do to get ready for the evening. But just before they stepped outside, Ellie broke away and trotted back over to the register.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, giving her a quick hug.
“Sure thing,” Mom whispered as she pulled back. “I’m just glad it’s not you.”
Ellie thought once more of Graham Larkin’s eyes, so guarded and sad, and of the way he’d paused in front of the store, his shoulders hunched and the brim of his cap pulled low as the photographers crept up behind him, as patient and certain as snipers. She glanced over at Quinn, who was practically dancing from one foot to the other, and it struck her how complicated this was, all of it, not just the cameras and the movie trailers, but the way someone could look at you, how it could feel like a question without an answer. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was go home and write an e-mail, to send her thoughts across the country like a message in a bottle, like the poems in the frames.
She turned back to Mom with a little nod.
“I know,” she said. “Me too.”
From: [email protected]
Sent: Sunday, June 9, 2013 3:02 PM
Subject: Re: what happy looks like
Meeting new people.
Chapter 4
The light off the water was golden in the last hours of the day. Graham took the long way to dinner, cutting over to the beach, where he paused every now and then to pick up a stone, weighing it in his hand before letting it fall back to the ground. All day, the smell of the ocean had been calling to him.
A couple of sunburned tourists walked by with beach chairs under their arms, but neither of them bothered to look up at him as they passed, and Graham felt a little shiver of delight. After the first movie came out, it had been the opposite; each time someone recognized him in public, it was like a benediction, like in some strange way he was being knighted: Graham Larkin, Somebody. But now—now it was the lack of recognition that made his heart thump in his chest, that small thrill of anonymity, which had become such a rare thing these days.