Welcome
to Bar Harbor, Please Watch Your Step
By
Jan Kozlowski
Emily and Molly looked up as the noon bus from
Portland pulled into the station. Emily, the girl, dug the boy’s picture out of
her skirt pocket. Molly, the German shepherd, swiveled her satellite dish ears
towards the incoming vehicle and looked up at her mistress expectantly.
“Molly, stay. We don’t know if Boyle Junior even
likes dogs and Nana told us to be hospitable.”
Boyle Junior. That’s what she’d been calling him
in her mind ever since her mother and Boyle Senior had informed her that
Matthew was coming to spend the summer with them. Not that either so-called
parent were here now. No sir, they had run off for a quick honeymoon and left
the new manufactured siblings to introduce themselves. Emily didn’t even know
if Junior suspected he was about to become a brother of the step variety.
There weren’t many people getting off the bus,
but that was normal for this time of year. Tourist season in Bar Harbor didn’t
really start until the Fourth of July weekend, mid-June in Maine was just too
cold for southlanders. Emily recognized the boy immediately, he was maybe
sixteen, a year older than her, and resembled his father so closely a photo was
unnecessary.
“Matthew Boyle?” she asked, even though there
was no question about it.
“I’m Matt,” he answered smiling.
“I’m Emily Jansson. My grandmother asked me to
meet you and take you back to the Inn.”
“But I thought my father was going to pick me
up.”
“That’s a long story and I hope he’s explained
it in this letter I’m supposed to give you,” she said, shoving the envelope
into his hand.
Emily almost felt sorry for Boyle…er…Matt as he
read the letter from his father. She didn’t know which was worse, the
uncomfortable silence as she waited for Matt to read the letter or the
uncomfortable skirt and blouse her grandmother has insisted she wear to the
meeting. She couldn’t wait to get back to the Inn and change into her jeans and
T-shirt.
“Married! Honeymoon! He’s freakin sorry!” Matt
fumed, his voice getting louder with each phrase that he spat out.
“Matt, I know it sucks, but chill out, don’t
raise your voice.”
“SO WHAT IF I DO? SO…THE FRIG…WHAT?” My father
married your mother without even telling me. He didn’t even bother to come and
tell me in person. He wrote me a freaking letter and sent YOU to deliver it.
The SOB sent a little girl to give me the FRIGGIN HAPPY news.”
“Matt, listen to me. I understand you’re ticked
off, but right now you have to calm down.”
Emily knew that Matt was just letting off steam,
something she would love to do herself, but she doubted that Molly would
understand the difference between unloading and threatening.
“Why? Am I EMBARRASSING you?” Matt continued,
taking a step towards her, his arms beginning to swing wide.
“What’s the matter, are you afraid your little
friends are gonna see…”
Emily saw a tan and black flash out of the
corner of her eye.
“Molly, NO!”
The large dog reacted immediately to the
command, but she had already launched herself at the threatening stranger.
Emily could only watch the collision of fur and luggage and angry teenage boy and
hope the injuries would be non-life threatening.
It took a few minutes to sort out legs, paws and
suitcases, but no one was hurt. Matt even ended up getting his face licked by
an apologetic Molly.
“You know, you didn’t have to sic your furry
rocket launcher on me,” Matt said, with surprisingly good humor, as Emily
helped him off the bus station tarmac.
“Sorry, but she’s protective, and I did try to
warn you about raising your voice.”
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t usually try to kill the
messenger.”
“Well, this messenger has orders from Nana to
get you back to the Inn for lunch and she’ll kill us both if we’re late.”
“She sounds like a tough lady,” Matt said
picking up the bags.
“Your father thinks so. When he gets back from
Bangor he’s going to accuse her of being an accessory to murder.”
