Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (11 page)

“But I know it wasn't intentional,” Waverly assured her. “And, like you said, I can almost see the humor in it now.”

“I'm so relieved to hear that. To be perfectly honest, I questioned Lou's sensibility when she insisted that The Gallery was a good investment. Really, what do a couple of old women know about such things? I'm aware the business needs some work. We'll be lost when Rosie leaves. She's been managing everything for us.”

“So I should probably schedule some time with Rosie.” Waverly made a mental note to speak to the young woman tomorrow.

“Yes. It was her family who owned the arcade,” Vivian explained. “Rosie's been working there since she was a teenager. But she'll be gone soon.”

“I'll do what I can,” Waverly promised. “For starters, I'm scrubbing down this apartment.”

“Do you want me to come help?” Vivian offered.

Waverly remembered her mother's dislike of housekeeping of any kind. “No, I can handle it.”

“Lou left some cleaning stuff there.”

“Yes, I've already begun putting it to use.” Waverly looked at the pile of dirt she'd already swept.

“I'm so relieved you're going to stay, darling. Most of all, I want to spend time with you. It's been too long.”

“Well, I expect I'll stick around for the duration of the summer.” Waverly had no idea what she'd do beyond that. Even as she made this decision, she reassured herself that she was not making a lifetime commitment. She would simply do whatever she could to help organize the place, attempt to make it the successful enterprise that her mother and aunt needed to stay afloat. After that, she would surely move on.

With this in mind, she continued to clean the studio apartment. Her plan was to simply carve out a space for herself up here—a place to sleep and hang her clothes—even if it was only a temporary one. With the floor swept clean, she went for the mop and bucket and started scrubbing the wood floors. To her surprise, the harder she scrubbed, the more the planks of wood began to come to life. She was so inspired by their natural wood beauty that she even started in on the windows that overlooked the water. But after a while, she realized it was getting dark. Washing windows at night was probably a waste of time and energy.

She'd noticed that the noisy arcade had gotten quiet somewhere around eight o'clock, which she suspected meant it had closed for the night. As she continued putting her space together, she located a plastic bag of bedding in one of her aunt's boxes. She put the grandma-style floral sheets and rose-colored blanket on the sofa bed, then slid the whole contraption closer to the windows, where she planned to enjoy the view. To make herself even more at home, she scooted a rickety side table next to the sofa bed and set a cracked porcelain lamp on it. Frumpy looking perhaps, but an improvement nonetheless. It would have to do until her own things arrived at the end of the week.

Satisfied that, at least, she had a semi-decent place to sleep tonight, she decided to slip downstairs to survey the state of the video arcade. She'd been too shocked at first glance to even remember what the space really looked like—although the sounds of electronic noises were still buzzing and ringing inside her head. She wondered if there was a way to turn the volume down on the machines.

She flicked on some lights and walked around the slightly eerie-looking space. With no one around, and the machines strangely silent, she thought it might make for a good setting for a creepy horror movie. Not that she was going to let her mind go there. Her plan was to start figuring this place out without anyone else around to distract her. What exactly made a business like this tick? What attracted customers to come and waste their money on these senseless games? And what might make this place even more alluring? What could she possibly do to improve something she really didn't understand? Well, besides throwing out all the horrid machines and turning it into a whole different sort of business, like an art gallery. Except she knew her aunt and mother could not afford to do that.

One thing she knew was that the whole place, not only the second floor, was in need of a good deep cleaning. And perhaps some better lighting too. Maybe a paint job would help. A more cheerful color than the drab beige, which looked like it hadn't been painted in ages, perhaps not since smoking had been allowed in places like this. The whole thing looked dark and dismal and depressing. Even the front windows were dingy and gray. She ran a finger over the surface of the glass to see that she left a clean trail through the grime. Hadn't the previous owners ever heard of soap and water? Or elbow grease?

Because, really, what sort of parent would want their children playing games in a filthy place like this? Of course, this made her wonder what sort of parent would want their children to play games like these in the first place. Or perhaps parents who dumped their kids here didn't really care. Maybe this was their way of having a break from their children. But unless she was mistaken, based on what she'd read about Martha's Vineyard, the tourists here didn't seem like that. Her mother had insinuated that the business needed help, and, as Waverly recalled, it hadn't been very busy today. Something was definitely not working here. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.

But not on her first night in this town. After all that labor, she realized she was ravenous. Heading out to Main Street to find someplace to eat, she walked a ways, finally stopping at a hotel restaurant called Zephrus, where she happily dined on delicious lobster cakes and seafood linguini. Then, thoroughly full and exhausted, Waverly ended her first day in Martha's Vineyard by returning to the studio apartment, where she crawled into her grandma-style bed and fell soundly asleep.

For the next few days, Waverly did little more than clean and scrub and spend time with Rosie, learning the ropes, as well as going over the books.

“As you can see, it's not terribly complicated,” Rosie said to Waverly on Saturday. “I told your mom and aunt that they could probably run this place themselves, but I don't think either of them are too interested.”

Waverly wanted to point out that she wasn't terribly interested either, but why bother? “I'd like to get someone in here to do some painting and help me move things around,” she told Rosie.

“Why?” Rosie looked blankly at her.

“I want to see if I can make this place a little more welcoming.”

Rosie just laughed. “Why bother?” Waverly frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because kids only come here for the games. They don't care what the place looks like.”

“Well, I care.”

Rosie shrugged. “I'll give you the numbers of a couple of guys who might be looking for work.”

“Thanks.”

Rosie was writing numbers on a scrap of paper. “I know I told your mom and aunt that I'd be here until the Fourth, but I'm hoping it'll be okay if I leave a little sooner.”

Waverly felt worried now. “I, uh, guess so.”

“You can easily find someone else to hire,” Rosie told her. “I can give you some recommendations if you want.”

“Yes,” Waverly said eagerly, “please do.”

Then Rosie had gone off on her lunch break, and Waverly was left on her own again. Not that this worried her anymore. Not like it had the first time Rosie had left Waverly alone in the arcade. By now Waverly realized that there really wasn't much to running the place. At least not in the way it had been run for the past several years. But Waverly hoped she could bring it up a notch.

She had just finished calling one of the guys Rosie had recommended, and he'd assured her he was a fairly good painter and happy to get some work, when a young girl with blond and purple hair approached the counter.

“That machine isn't working right,” the girl explained.

“Which one?” Waverly asked.

“Road Warrior,” the girl said, pointing to one of the games.

“Can you show me which one that is?” Waverly asked. Then she confessed to being new here and not that familiar with the games.

Suddenly the girl was explaining the whole thing to her in vivid detail.

“Wow,” Waverly said as she looked at the game. “It sounds like you're a real expert when it comes to video games.”

“I play a lot of games.” The girl frowned at her. “Don't you?”

Waverly shook her head. “The truth is, I've never played once.”

The girl looked shocked. “Never?”

“Never.”

“And you could probably play for free here,” the girl pointed out.

“Probably.” Waverly handed the girl a token. “Go ahead and put this in and show me what's wrong.”

So the girl put in the token and explained what the machine was doing and what it should be doing. Before long, Waverly slapped an O
UT OF
O
RDER
sign on it and repaid the girl her lost token, as well as a couple more for helping her figure it out.

“Will you get the game fixed?” the girl asked as she followed Waverly back to the counter.

“I guess so.”

“Can I ask you a question?” The girl was lingering at the counter.

“Go for it.” Waverly smiled at her.

“If you don't play video games, why do you work here?”

Waverly laughed. “That's a good question. I suppose it would be smart for me to learn how to play some of these games. But the truth is, I find them a little intimidating.”

“Want me to teach you?” the girl offered.

Waverly blinked. “You know, that's not a bad idea. In fact, if you teach me, I would gladly pay you in tokens for your time.”

The girl beamed at her. “It's a deal.”

“My name is Waverly,” she told the girl, sticking out her hand. “That's a weird name.”

Waverly laughed. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll explain how I got it.”

“I promise.”

“Well…” Waverly got a handful of tokens and put them in her jeans pocket. “When my mother was pregnant with me, she got sick to her stomach a lot. All she wanted to eat was milk and Waverly Wafers.”

The girl nodded. “I like Waverly Wafers too.”

“And so my mother named me Waverly.”

The girl laughed. “My name is Sicily,” she told her. “My mother named me for the place she and Dad went to on their honeymoon.”

Waverly smiled. “That's a beautiful name. And a great story too. Much better than being named after a cookie.”

So her video game lessons began. It turned out that Sicily was a good teacher. But after about an hour, Waverly was concerned. “Are your parents in town?” she asked.

“My dad is doing errands,” Sicily explained. “He said he'd be back to get me at one.”

“Well, it's getting close to two,” Waverly told her. “Do you need to call him or anything?”

Sicily just shrugged. “He knows where I am.”

“Right.” Waverly felt sorry for Sicily now. What kind of father left a young girl alone like this for nearly two hours? “Hey, can I get your opinion on something?”

“Okay.” Sicily turned away from the video game.

“I'm going to have these walls painted, and I wonder what color would be best. Since you obviously love video games, maybe you'd have a suggestion.” She pointed to the counter. “The color samples are up there.”

They went to the counter, and Waverly spread out the color wheel that she'd been studying. “I really have no idea.”

“You should paint the walls
all
these colors,” Sicily said as she ran her hands over the wide array of colors.

“All these colors?” Waverly blinked. “Really?”

“Well, not all of them. But how about a rainbow of color?”

“A rainbow?” Waverly considered this. “Or maybe a mural?”

“What's a mural?”

Waverly explained that it was a large painting that filled an entire wall.

“Yeah, that would be cool. Like maybe with characters from some of the video games.”

Waverly considered this. “That would be a lot of work.”

“Yeah.” Sicily pursed her lips. “And you'd need to be a real artist too.”

Now Waverly smiled. “As a matter of fact, I am a real artist.”

Sicily's blue eyes got big. “Really? You're a real artist?”

“Well, I haven't done much art lately, but I used to be a real artist.”

“Do you want any help with the mural?” Sicily asked hopefully.

“I'd love some help.”

“Really?” Sicily looked stunned.

“Are you a good painter?”

“I think so. I mean, I never painted a mural before, but it sounds like fun.”

“I could pay you in game tokens,” Waverly offered, “if it's all right with your parents.”

“I think it's okay,” Sicily assured her. “They don't really care what I do.”

Waverly wanted to question this but decided not to. “I'm happy to talk to them and explain—”

“There's my dad now.” Sicily pointed to the door, where an attractive man was just coming in. He almost had the look of an artist with his slightly shaggy brown hair and neatly trimmed beard. But it was his eyes that captured her. Although she couldn't detect the color, it was the expression that got her attention. They seemed to have a kind of depth to them, like perhaps his life hadn't been exactly smooth and easy.

Then, to Waverly's surprise, a familiar-looking woman walked in directly behind him. In fact, unless Waverly was mistaken, that was her cousin Janice.

“Waverly!” Janice exclaimed as she hurried up to greet her. “So nice to see you again. It's been ages.”

“Janice.” Waverly opened her arms to give her cousin a hug. “I'd heard you were here. So good to see you.”

“You know each other?” Sicily wore a confused expression.

“Janice is my cousin,” Waverly explained to the girl. “But I haven't seen her in years.” She stepped back and studied Janice. “You look as beautiful as ever.”