Beach Thing

by DL White

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them before and I’ve been here awhile. I’m guessing they just got here. And from the looks of the lights going on and off at the house on the corner, that’s where they’re staying.”

  “You mean that big house with the circular driveway and the pool and the… everything?”

  “Mmmhmmm,” I hummed, licking ice cream off of my spoon. I loved ice cream. It was my nightly treat — just a small bowl. To start with.

  “How’s everything going? You ready for me to come down there yet?”

  “Actually,” I said, almost choking on a too-big bite of chocolate chunk. “I’m going to need some help sooner than I thought. Not saying I can afford for you to quit your new job at that fancy law firm and move down here—”

  “They won’t miss me.”

  “Right. Does anyone else do any work? I’m sure you do everything over there.”

  “You’re right. I am dope and they’d be lost without me.” I rolled my eyes, even though she was agreeing with me. “So what are you going to do about getting some help?”

  “See how long I can go before I fall over from exhaustion. Then probably place an ad in The Bullhorn.” Black Diamond had its own newspaper for residents. If you needed to buy something, wanted to sell something, needed to announce something, it went into The Bullhorn.

  “Please don’t work yourself to the bone. At least not before I build up some vacation time and can come down there.”

  We chatted for a few minutes more while I scraped the bowl with my spoon — my signal that it was time to brush my teeth and crawl into bed. I set my alarm for 5:30 and I wasn’t even sure that would be early enough.

  “I’m turning into a pumpkin. Kiss everybody for me. Talk to you soon.”

  I signed off with Paige, dropped my bowl into the dishwasher and turned it on so it could work while I slept. A glint of light caught my eye as I passed the kitchen window overlooking the beach. I reached over to the wall and snapped off the overhead light, then waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  I watched a figure trudge through the sand, just along the edge of the water, a mobile phone lighting up the night. Since he was walking from the direction of the house on the corner, I guessed that it was Wade.

  Before I could stop myself, I opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the deck, flipping on the porch light and walking to the edge. I leaned against the railing and waited for him to slip his phone into his pocket and make his way over.

  “It’s you,” he said, when he got close enough for me to hear him.

  “It’s me, that loud mouth girl from earlier.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not saying all that. I was checking out the beach. I’m a city guy, so I don’t get to see this often.”

  “This beach is great. I love the breeze off of the Bay at night.” As if on cue, we both took a glance at the rolling waves, lit by the moon sitting high above. “So I guess we’re neighbors.”

  He nodded, glancing toward the large house lit up like Christmas, then back to me. “It’s Gage’s place, but he’s lending it out for the summer.”

  He paused, then the rest of the sentence rushed out of his mouth, like he was trying to beat me to some kind of finish line. “So listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I was tired and hungry.”

  I shrugged. “I was preoccupied. Should have watched where I was going.”

  “Well anyway, my mama raised me a gentleman. My apologies.” He paused for a beat, then asked, “You run that little smoothie shop there?”

  “I do.” I nodded. “Just opened officially today.”

  “Yeah?” I heard the smile in his deep tenor. “No wonder you were preoccupied. That’s good. I like to see people doing for themselves. Congrats.”

  “Thanks. You should stop by the shop tomorrow. I’ll make you something on the house. If you want.”

  “You can’t make money giving drinks away. I’ll happily pay for something.”

  I laughed, stepping back from the railing surrounding the wood deck. “And I’ll happily take your money. See you tomorrow.”

  4

  Wade

  “Say hey to the wife and the girls for me,” I called to Gage’s retreating back as he climbed the steps to board the aircraft. He lifted a hand to acknowledge me and then he was gone, swallowed up into the cavernous belly of the plane. Once the stairwell started to slowly pull up, I put the car in drive and pulled out of the private airstrip onto the main road.

  Before long, I was crossing the bridge back into Black Diamond Isles. I was eager to park the car and then go find that little shake shack again.

  And see Ameenah again.

  We’d gotten off on the wrong foot a little. I felt like I fixed it last night, but patronizing her business would be a good move.

  Not that I needed to be looking up women on the island already. Or at all. I had enough issues to deal with, enough things going on in my life that losing focus on a woman was just adding fuel to the fire.

  She was pretty, though. The wild, deep brown curls that framed her face were just barely contained in a clip. Her skin was golden, probably from working on the shop. Or maybe hanging out on her back deck. I noticed her thick lips when they were pursed and scowling in my direction. And I noticed those thick hips when she settled her hands on them in obvious displeasure.

  I strolled the main drag between the beach and the beachside businesses. No vehicles were allowed on the street, only service carts, bicycles and foot traffic. I took my time, swinging my head from side to side, noting everything that was offered: t-shirts, beach swag, places to rent kayaks, canoes and stand up paddles, places to buy life jackets, water wings and snorkel gear. Then there were the restaurants — hot dogs, hamburgers, sausages, fries, wings, Italian ice and snow cones.

  In the background, the Bay provided a regular, rhythmic soundtrack of waves rolling up onto the shore, then pulling back. I slept with my windows open last night, just to hear the sound.

  I turned into the open door at Tikis & Cream, slipping off my shades and hooking them onto the collar of my shirt. The line was three people deep, so I stood to the side and occupied a high bar stool along the wall. Ameenah was pleasant and peppy, not showing a hint she’d been up too late investigating a creeper on the beach the night before.

  Once her waiting customers had been served, she stepped around the counter, a wide smile beaming in my direction.

  “You made it!”

  “I had to make an airport run, see Gage off to join his family on vacation. I was checking out your menu. You think I could get one of these Frozen Sunshines you have listed here?” I pointed to an item on the menu, but she didn’t need to look at it to know what it was.

  “Coming right up. You want whipped cream on it?”

  I shrugged. “Why not? I’ve already had wings and beer. My abs will be gone by the time I leave this place.”

  She laughed, moving behind the counter and deftly performing the tasks to make my drink. She had practiced a lot, it seemed. She knew where everything was without having to look for it, and everything she needed was in arm’s reach. Whoever had designed her workspace knew what they were doing.

  I had the same philosophy about the studio. No need for a huge space when I am going to use the same ten things over and over. May as well keep them near me.

  “It’s tempting to try everything when you’re new to the island. Give yourself a week to explore; there really are some neat places here. And if you want, I can show you some healthier options. There’s so much more to this place than the strip along the beach.”

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. There’s a weight room in the house, but I’d like to get out every once in a while. Is there a gym nearby?”

  She gestured for me to wait a moment, since the mixer was too loud to talk over. When she’d finished blending, she said, “There are two, actually. One tiny gym and one big gym, like Gold’s.”

  “Sounds great. And like, the grocery store and a bank — wh
ich I’m sure I can find on my own, but if you’re offering to be my tour guide…”

  I took in the view of a bright orange, frothy concoction topped with a mound of whipped cream. “Damn! I might need to join that gym real soon if I'm going to be drinking these all summer.”

  “Now, this is made with fruit, ice cream and juice that have no sugar added, so I’m not giving you any unnecessary calories. Except for the whipped cream, but that’s essential to finish it off.”

  She waited while I sucked some through the straw, then grinned at how fast my eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

  “So much yes,” I swooned, sucking down more of the ice cold orange mix. “Very much yes. This is good.”

  “Thanks. I created it myself.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, you outdid yourself with this one.”

  She whipped a white towel from where it had been tucked into the back pocket of her khaki shorts, grabbed a bottle with a spray nozzle from behind the counter, and began wiping down surfaces.

  “My family owns a restaurant group back in New York. One of the spots we own is a storefront near Long Beach. I worked a lot of summers there, and in the down time I would experiment with different combinations. I’m always trying something new with ice cream and fruit and juice… it’s pretty interesting.”

  She’d been talking and wiping, making her way across the room. I’d been sipping and listening, watching her. Finding herself at the table next to mine, she set the spray bottle and the towel down and climbed up onto a stool. “At least… I think it’s interesting.”

  “No, it is. It is. I mean, it’s recipes, right? A little of this, a little of that, something to hold it together. I can relate.”

  “Yeah. A lot like that.”

  A small group piled into the shop, laughing and talking loudly, toting beach bags and towels. “That’s my sign to get back to work. Let me know when you want that tour. Happy to do it.”

  I gave her a wave as I left, slurping the rest of my drink and headed back to the house, set to get my room ready for work. I’d been off my game seriously since I’d heard from my father three months ago. It was coming out in everything I put my hands to. My work and my relationship with my mother were both strained. I couldn’t afford to mess up either. Ruth Marshall was everything I had in the world. And without music, I may as well not exist.

  As soon as I stepped into the house, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to glance at the display, but I already knew it would be her. Like always, exactly when my mind drifted to her, there she was on my phone. We had a crazy connection that way.

  “Hey Ma,” I greeted her, pressing the phone to my ear as I made my way through the house. I strolled through the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the stash Gage had left in the refrigerator.

  “So you’re alive,” she responded, dryly. Truth be told, it was her regular tone. She only perked up for company. “Good to hear your voice, son.”

  “Thanks, Ma. We made it yesterday, then had to get unpacked and everything before Gage flew back out this morning. Just now getting back to the house. What’s going on up there?”

  I listened to my mother give me a rundown of the boring things happening in Astoria. I’d offered to buy her a brownstone, something in Westchester or even out in the country upstate, but all she wanted was a nice place in the city she’d lived in for most of her life. She loved the upscale condo I bought her…updated interior, stainless steel appliances and the rooftop terrace. She and her girlfriends — The Biddies, they called themselves, liked to sit up there, drink and play cards with a view of Queens in every direction. Every once in a while she talked me into showing up so The Biddies could fawn over me.

  “So you’re really going to hide out on some island all summer, then? Leave your poor, destitute mother back in New York with no one to take care of her?”

  I was laughing before she’d finished her sentence. I knew how much money I deposited into her account every month. She was nowhere near destitute, and she’d made friends with every resident in her building. I couldn’t even stop by to take her to dinner nowadays. She was always rushing off to one thing or another.

  “Stop, Ma. Don’t make me feel guilty. You know I need this.”

  “Yeah.” She heaved a deep, long sigh. I knew the feeling. “Yes, you sure do. Over the years, there were a lot of times I wished I could disappear. Have you heard from him?”

  “I saw him a few days before I left town. I won’t give him my number, so he doesn’t call, but he found out where Tuneage is, so he’d been dropping by every few weeks.”

  I leaned my shoulder against the entryway to my temporary studio, watching the waves through the enormous windows. “I have nothing to say to him. You know?”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Has he been in touch with you?” I pushed off of the wall and listened hard. If that man was bothering my mother I would be on the first thing smoking back to New York to let him know what was up. He’d been gone for a long time, far too long to mend broken fences.

  “No, I haven’t seen him since the last time I took you to visit him and you said you didn’t want to go anymore. He stopped calling a bit after that. And then I moved and changed my number.”

  “Okay. Good. Let me know if you see him or hear from him. You hear me, Ma?”

  “Don’t worry, I will let you know. How’s everything down in… where are you?”

  “Black Diamond. You’re welcome to come and check it out. Stay a few days. I’m right on the beach.”

  “Oh, you know I’m not really a beach person. It sounds nice though. Maybe later in the—” She paused at an electronic beep, then continued. “Hey, Neeta is calling me. She’s supposed to come over and play Bid Whist. You take care of yourself, son.”

  “I will, Ma. Love you and say hey to Aunt Neet for me.”

  I slid the phone back into my pocket and headed to my studio, turned on some music, and got to work.

  5

  Ameenah

  I heard music blaring from inside the house, so I wasn’t sure if Wade could even hear the doorbell, but I kept trying it. He’d been coming by the shop every few days. I’d try to talk him into something new; he’d still choose the Frozen Sunshine, but promise that he’d try something new soon. I quickly learned that orange was his favorite flavor.

  Which led to me standing at his front door with a plastic container of orange cranberry muffins, leaning on the doorbell like my life depended on it. I’d almost given up when I heard the music cut out. I pressed the doorbell button again, this time hearing it chime throughout the house.

  I stepped back and waited for the footsteps that eventually came and for the door to swing open. The surprise on Wade’s face as he opened the door made me giggle. That I knew of, he didn’t know anyone else on Black Diamond — who else would be at his door?

  “I’ve been standing out here so long, these muffins are probably cold.”

  He eyed the container and stepped aside to let me into the house. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear, with the music going. What’s up?”

  “Not too much. I just whipped these up for the shop.” I gestured toward the container. “I thought I would bring you a few. They’re orange cranberry.”

  The slow, sexy smile that spread across his face did things to my body, made it tingle in a way it hadn’t in a while. I’d been so head down for the past few years, working two, sometimes three jobs to save enough to move to Black Diamond and open Tikis & Cream. I’d cut out dating and most forms of socializing. I only saw Paige when she dropped into the bar where I served drinks. I could catch my family at the weekly, non-negotiable Sunday dinner. Otherwise, unless I worked a shift with one of them, I rarely saw them.

  Wade took the container and nodded his head for me to follow. I looked around while trailing him to the kitchen, my eyes wide at how the other half lived— Italian tile, dark marble, huge rooms with sweeping views. I thought I had a nice view of the beach from my little house, but the windows alon
e blew me away.

  “So… Gage just lets you live in his house?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, pulling the lid off of the container and plucking a mini-muffin from inside. He grinned, then sniffed it, then popped the whole thing into his mouth. “Uhmm… mmm... these are good,” he mumbled around a mouthful of muffin.

  “Hey, don’t choke. I’m not doing the Heimlich on you.”

  He chuckled, then reached for two more muffins. “These won’t last the night. Guarantee. They’re really good.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling proud.

  “Let me show you around. Gage and his wife don’t really use the house as much as they thought they would. Her family has a spot down in Jamaica and she’s used to going there. Happy wife, happy life is Gage’s motto, so…”

  He led me out of the kitchen, through a spacious dining room with a long cherry wood table and stately chairs covered in white fabric. We passed a formal sitting room and living room, ending up in what I supposed was the family room. It was much more casual and laid back — still upscale, but the room at least looked like it had been used.

  “The house is here, sitting empty. I needed some time away from the city. Here I am.”

  He walked toward the patio doors and pushed them open, revealing a large wooden deck that put mine to shame. The sunset in the distance, only slightly obscured by clouds, gave us a gorgeous light show across the Bay.

  He gestured toward a seat at the patio table, which had a colorful umbrella shading it, its panels flapping in the light breeze. “Can I get you something to drink? I can’t make that orange thing, but I could grab you some water, juice or soda. Or I have some blood orange San Pellegrino, actually.”

  “I’m flattered that you would share your own orange concoction with me. I’ll have one of those.”

  He left and returned with the container of muffins he’d left in the kitchen and two bottles of San Pellegrino. I took one and twisted it open, then gulped down a delicious swallow, tart and rich with orange flavor.