Dreamland(7)

“You’ve been here for hours and sunset is still a long way off.”

“How do you know how long I’ve been here?”

“Because I saw you when you first walked by. We were by the pool.”

“You saw me?”

“You were kind of hard to miss, lugging all your gear from somewhere up the beach. Seems like you could have plopped down anywhere. If you just wanted to enjoy the sunset, I mean.” Her brown eyes flashed with mischief.

“Would you like a beer?” I countered. “Since you obviously came out here to speak with me?”

“Oh, no thanks.”

I hesitated. “You are old enough to drink, though, right? I don’t want to be the creepy twenty-five-year-old who offers alcohol to minors.”

“Yup. Just turned twenty-one, actually. I’ve graduated college and everything.”

“Where are your friends?”

“They’re still at the pool.” She shrugged. “They were having margaritas when I left.”

“Sounds like a pleasant afternoon.”

She motioned toward my chair. “Can I borrow your towel?”

“My towel?”

“Please.”

I could have asked why, but instead, I simply stood, pulled it from the beach chair, and handed it over.

“Thank you.” She whipped it straight, then spread it on the sand beside my chair before taking a seat. I lowered myself into my chair, watching as she leaned back on her elbows, her long, sun-browned legs stretched out in front of her. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. “I’m Morgan Lee, by the way,” she finally offered.

“Colby Mills,” I countered.

“I know,” she said. “I saw your show.”

Oh, right. “Where’s home for you?”

“Chicago,” she answered. “More specifically, Lincoln Park.”

“That means nothing to me. I’ve never been to Chicago.”

“Lincoln Park is a neighborhood right next to the lake.”

“What lake?”

“Lake Michigan?” she said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “One of the Great Lakes?”

“Is it really great? Or is it just a good or average lake?”

She laughed at my lame joke, a deep and full-throated rumble that was startling coming from such a petite frame. “It’s gorgeous and…huge. It’s kind of like here, in fact.”

“Are there beaches?”

“Actually, yes. They don’t have the perfect white sand or palm trees, but they can get crowded in the summer. There can even be pretty big waves sometimes.”

“Is that where you went to college, too?”

“No. I went to Indiana University.”

“And let me guess. This trip is a graduation gift from your parents before you have to head off into the real world?”

“Impressive,” she said as she raised an eyebrow. “You must have figured that out sometime between yesterday and just now, which means you’ve been thinking about me.” Though I didn’t respond, I didn’t have to. Busted, I thought. “But, yes, you’re right,” she went on. “I think they felt bad because I had to deal with all that Covid stuff, which made school pretty crappy for a while. And obviously they’re thrilled I graduated, so they booked a trip for me and my friends.”

“I’m surprised the four of you didn’t want to go to Miami. St. Pete Beach is a bit off the beaten path.”

“I love this place,” she said with a shrug. “My family used to come here every year when I was growing up, and we always stayed at the Don.” She stared at me with open curiosity. “But how about you? How long have you lived here?”

“I don’t live here. I’m visiting from North Carolina. I just came down to play at Bobby T’s for a few weeks.”

“Is that what you do? Travel and perform?”

“No,” I said. “It’s the first time I’ve ever done something like this.”

“Then how did you end up playing here?”

“I played at a party back home, and in a weird coincidence, the booker for Bobby T’s happened to be visiting a friend in town and heard me play. Anyway, afterward he asked whether I’d be willing to come down to do a few shows. I’d have to pay my own travel and lodging, but it was a chance to visit Florida and the schedule isn’t too demanding.” I shrugged. “I think he was surprised when I said yes.”

“Why?”

“After expenses I probably won’t break even, but it’s a nice excuse to get away.”

“The crowd seemed to like you.”

“I think they’d be happy with anyone,” I demurred.

“And I think you’re selling yourself short. A lot of women in the crowd were staring at you with googly eyes.”

“Googly?”

“You know what I mean. When one of them went up to talk to you after your set, I thought she was going to try to grope you right there.”

“I doubt it,” I said. In all candor, I could barely remember talking to anyone after the show.

“So where did you learn to sing?” she asked. “Did you take lessons or were you in a band or…?”