I could never, ever, ever admit it to anyone. Never. But I wanted to move to the beach. I loved the Cape, I loved the peace and quiet, I loved the ocean, the light houses, and the fact that I could take a cocktail to bed without anyone calling me an alcoholic... then again that last part may just be my family.

I woke up staring at the ocean and knew I had to convince my mother and Georgia to have a clam bake. We needed to have it tonight. If I didn't eat a clam today I think I would lose it, actually lose it. I didn't care if I had to shuck oysters or go out on a boat and catch the lobster myself, I would chop up corn for hours and scrub potatoes... I'd dig for the fucking clams all by myself if it meant I got to eat clams tonight.

I stood up from my spot on the beach and marched back up to the houses calling for my mom until I found her and Georgia resting in a sun room in the Reynold's house. "We need to have a clam bake tonight." they both looked at me, I probably looked like a disheveled mess, sand falling off me with every movement. "ok, take Jake and go shopping." I bit my lip. Was a clam bake worth the price? Did I really want to go around to the grocery store and the fish monger and the lobstermen's shack with Jake? To haggle and carry around the seafood with him in tow... it just sounded horrible, like he was dumping coffee down the front of my shirt. "Erin are you going or not?" I nodded reluctantly and walked back out to the beach still wondering if a clam bake was worth it.

I kicked a bit of sand on top of Jake to get him to notice me before peeling off my coverup "what?" he grumbled "we're going to get the supplies for a clam bake." he groaned and rolled onto his stomach. I kicked more sand on top of him, eventually grabbing his arm and pulling. He stood up reluctantly and started to walk towards the house when I had to grab his arm again. "what?" he wined and I rolled my eyes "you're fucking covered in sand, they'll scream if you walk in there." he sighed and I started dragging him towards the ocean "I can walk on my own!" he shouted as I took off running still holding onto his arm "I don't trust you!" I shouted back as our feet hit the water. I let go of his arm and dove in head first, washing the sand and probably some sins away. I let my head break the surface and saw him barely in the water. That will never do. I stood up and walked over to him, splashing water at him, hoping it would encourage him to hurry the fuck up. It didn't, and I wound up walking behind him like I was going up to the house, instead I shoved him in farther despite his protests until we both ended up falling down, the waves crashing against us as we sat there in the ocean water. "You're a bitch you know." he was probably expecting me to respond with some defense or come back but I just started laughing hysterically "That's probably the nicest thing you've said to me." I couldn't stop laughing as the waves crashed against my back "I am a bitch Jake, a bitch that wants this fucking clam bake, so meet me outside in ten minutes."

*******

"Is this even legal to drive?" Jake asked as I swung the old jeep keys around my fingers "Probably not, but who's going to stop us?" I asked hoping in the driver's seat, turning the old rust bucket on. The doors had long sense been removed my brothers and the roof ripped when we dropped a watermelon from the balcony and it went right through. It was a piece of shit, just like that attic room, and I couldn't have been happier driving it. I back up quickly, more concerned with the radio than my seatbelt. "Why is there no windshield?" Jake decided to ask as he dodged a dragonfly that flew right at him. I pulled it down at a stop sign before whipping out on one of the busier roads towards the grocery store.

I pulled into one of the first spots and grabbed a hat from my purse, shoving my salt water soaked hair into a messy bun... or really just a mess. Had the entire town not known that the old rust bucket belonged to my family and had my credit card not said Erin Bright I would have been mortified to show up anywhere. But it was the cape, and while sure I passed Muffy who married her dad's best friends lawyer son and never went anywhere without a Ralph Lauren Sweater tied around her neck, covering the back sweat stain in her Lacoste polo, or the strand of pearls her grandmother had given her... Like Jackie said last night I'm fucking Erin Bright. Now that wasn't to say that I wasn't wearing nice leather flipflops or that my tennis skirt wasn't from Lululemon or that the vintage looking sweatshirt was actually from Kiel James Patrick and not something from a small gift shop... but it did most certainly 100% mean that my hat was a tattered old baseball cap I had stolen from my oldest brother James who had bought it at some Lobster roll shack in the early 90s. The hat pisses my mom off every time she sees it, which may make me love it even more.

"grab a cart," I told Jake who at this point looked like he might as well go model for Talbots. Obviously he was not as comfortable being unapologetic. I walked over to the stack of corn on the cob, practically tasting it in my mouth as I piled them into the reusable bag I found in my purse. "How much are you getting?" Jake looked horrified as I continued to pile cob after cob into the bag "You have to have a lot of corn... and we have a lot of people to feed." he just shook his head, grimacing as my phone buzzed again. I finally took one last cob and tossed it into the bag "What's the point in having it buzz and beep when you just ignore it?" he asked as we moved onto the potatoes. I grabbed three bags of the smaller red potatoes putting them in the cart before looking at him "Jake I live alone, I don't sleep around a lot, and frankly most men I meet today are assholes, yourself included," he looked slightly offended but I just shrugged "I feel a little bit less lonely when I'm working at three a.m. and hear my phone buzz, even if it is just William Sonoma letting me know that they're having a candle sale... I feel just a bit safer walking at night and sleeping alone in my apartment hearing the emails and texts go off." I felt sober saying those words, I'd never really thought about it much, but It was true, I felt safe hearing my phone go off. Of course in feeling sober I looked him dead in the eyes "I need a fucking drink, let's hurry up and get the Ole Bay."

******

"can you smell it," I asked out loud not really caring if he did or didn't. It wasn't really a question either, of course you could smell the seafood. It smelled fucking delicious even uncooked and straight from the ocean. I pulled the flask from my purse and took a swig, Jake just shook his head. Someone should give him a neck brace so he can stop shaking his head like a middle aged dad.

I had a little pep in my step as I flung open the door walking into the fish monger's. If I'm being honest I'm not even sure if that was what it was called, but I've been calling it the Fish Monger's ever since I learned the word monger I thought that was the best word ever as a seven year old. I rushed to the shrimp counter and my stomach started ordering, not my mouth. It was a horrible idea when ordering Girl Scout Cookies, but what could go wrong with a clam bake? You just throw it in a pot, or several pots, or a giant pot and boil it with a ton of Ole Bay... I remember my fingers being saturated with Ole Bay, smelling like it even after taking a shower and scrubbing them.

I moved over to the other counter, avoiding the fish, and looking directly at the clams, muscles, and oysters. I knew I shouldn't but as soon as I ordered them and payed I walked out to the car, Jake, lagging behind, I took my swiss army knife, poured some alcohol from my flask over it and pried open the oyster. "looking for pearls?" Jake joked and I just smiled, carving the meat away from the shell like I'd seen my grandpa do so many times before letting it slide out of the shell and into my mouth. I scrunched up my face and stomped my feet a little before throwing the oyster shell in the pile out front of the Fish mongers, I'd forgotten how slimy and cold it feels on the way down. I glanced at Jake who was once again shaking his head, killing my Cape vibes. I hated myself for even thinking the word vibes, it made me sound like my assistant or some hippie from the 70s. "did anyone ever tell you you're a real drag?" I asked backing out of the fish monger's. He nodded "I figure what the hell it's gotten me this far, I'll probably be a drag for life... but I won't suffer from liver failure." I couldn't help but shake my head, which scared me a bit, it must be contagious.

I turned up the radio as we drove closer to the water and turned down the gravel road that led directly to the Lobstermen's shack. The name was actually misleading, it was probably the farthest thing from a shack in the whole town, but the name's quaint so what the hell. I jumped out barely remembering to turn off the car, humming the last song on the radio as I walked into the storefront. I came out five minutes later with a bag full of lobsters to find Jake still sitting in the car, lounging in the seat. "You're a lot of help," I muttered turning the car back on. He pointed at my purse "Figured I should watch it," I nodded "oh, thanks," I quickly whipped out of the parking lot and continued to take the gravel road until it merged into another smaller, but paved road which lead directly back to the houses. Nothing else was ever really said about anything after that. I suppose someone always has to stay quiet in order to listen. Though I would have killed to know what I was listening for.