Cottage by the Sea

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Cottage by the Sea Page 6

by Robin Jones Gunn


  “I have pictures of them.” Erin reached for her phone and saw that she had missed a call from Mike. She flipped to her digital photo album and held up her phone so her dad could see the cute young couple standing by a palm tree at Sunset Beach. “Her name is Sierra.”

  Her father raised his eyebrows. “What kind of a name is that?” Without waiting for an answer, he studied the shot more closely. “She certainly has a lot of hair. Your grandmother used to have curly hair like that. Red, not blond like this girl, Sarah.”

  “Sierra,” Erin corrected him. “Her name is Sierra, not Sarah.” She was aware that several other diners were leaning over, unabashedly trying to catch a glimpse of the photo on Erin’s phone.

  “Have you met her yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “She could have some Irish blood in her with hair like that.”

  The crusty old sailor who openly had stared at Erin when they entered rose, walked over, and leaned in to see the photo. Erin’s dad held up the phone so he could get a better look. He made no comment. Just had a look and returned to his breakfast.

  “When are they getting married?” Erin’s dad asked.

  “They just met last month.” Erin took back her phone and placed it in her lap.

  “By the time they decide to get serious, you might have that wedding business of yours up and going.”

  “Actually, I don’t think I told you yet, but my friend Sharlene and I launched our wedding planning business.”

  “Well, that’s news. When did this happen?”

  Erin let the true answer slip out. “Yesterday.”

  Her father made an expression that clearly reflected disapproval. “Yesterday. Then what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to come. I wanted to . . .” She almost said “. . . make sure you were okay” but with the audience that certainly was listening and the way her father had been acting as if nothing was wrong, she left her sentence unfinished.

  “Well, you don’t have to stay on my account. We appreciate your coming to see the place now that we have it all fixed up, but you don’t need to turn this into a vacation. Not your first week on the job. If I were you, I’d be on the next flight home.”

  One of the women at the table just inches away turned to them. “You don’t want to go home yet, Erin. This storm is on its way out. We’re expecting full sun by tomorrow. Highs in the low sixties. It’s going to be beautiful. You should stay and enjoy the weather.”

  Erin tried to make a lighthearted comment. “Highs in the sixties, you say. I suppose I shouldn’t tell you that where I live as soon as it dips into the low seventies we wear wool sweaters and sip hot cocoa to warm up.”

  The woman didn’t appear amused. However, the leather-skinned sailor chuckled to himself.

  The omelets were delivered just then, and she was happy to put an end to their group conversation. The toast arrived a moment later along with the acclaimed jam. All of it was delicious. Especially the jam. Erin’s opinion of Jenny Bee’s Fish House went up another notch with each bite.

  They talked only a little as they ate. That seemed fine to her father, and it was fine with Erin. She spent her chewing time thinking through the phone calls she was going to make as soon as she could do so in private. She would send a text to Mike, letting him know she would call as soon as she could. She planned to give the doctor a call just to make sure, but at this point Erin saw no reason not to book a return flight for that evening or the next morning at the latest.

  When she and her dad returned to the cottage, Erin dropped him off and left her engine running. “I need to drive back to town to buy something at the grocery store.”

  “What do you need? We might have it.”

  “It’s a personal item.” That excuse had worked for years with her dad. He never wanted to hear about any personal “feminine” item she needed at the store. In this case, her true personal item was personal time on the phone with her husband in the grocery store parking lot.

  With a wave of his hand he dismissed her and took the steps on the front deck with ease. She waited until he was inside the cottage before backing up the steep gravel driveway and driving the two miles to town.

  Parking the car in front of the small Wayside Market, Erin called the doctor and left a message with the on-call nurse, then Mike and gave him a report of how things had been going.

  “You might as well come home unless the doctor calls back and says otherwise. If your father is well enough to go out to breakfast and eat shrimp omelets with you, I’m guessing he’s not in any immediate danger.”

  “I think you’re right. It was a crabmeat omelet, actually. Not shrimp. By far the best omelet I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And the raspberry jam was homemade and delicious. I can see why my dad loves going there. On the outside it doesn’t look like much. If you don’t mind sharing your conversation with a handful of locals, it’s a really great place to eat. When you and I come up here sometime, I’ll take you there.”

  “Why don’t you tell your dad that? Tell him you have to come home, but you and I plan to visit in a few months and to stay longer for a vacation.”

  A car pulled into the open parking spot next to Erin. She turned her face away from whoever it was that just pulled in. If it was one of the breakfast cronies from Jenny Bee’s, she didn’t want to get roped into rolling down her window to engage in a conversation.

  “What about Delores?” Mike asked. “Does she like it there?”

  “I’m not sure how to gauge what she likes. It seems whatever her favorites are, they’re on a short list that she keeps to herself. I will tell you one thing, though. While I still don’t have much of a liking for her, I can understand a little better what my dad sees in her and why he married her.”

  “And what exactly is that?”

  “She’s a workhorse. And good with her hands, just like my dad. She’s also abrupt like him, too. With my mom it was definitely a case of opposites attracting each other. With Delores it’s—”

  There was a tap on the window. Erin jumped. She turned to see Delores’s stern expression gazing in on her just as it had last night in the dark.

  “Delores!”

  Mike asked, “What about her? You were saying with their marriage it’s—”

  “She’s right here. I’ll call you back.” Erin hung up her phone and turned the key in the ignition so she could roll down the passenger’s window. She tried to adjust her expression to one of calm and innocence. Her mind was busy working to replay the last few minutes of her call to Mike so she could remember what she had said about Delores in case she had overheard through the closed-up car.

  “Jack said you needed something at the store. I do, too.” Delores stood her ground, apparently waiting for Erin to lock up the car and come inside with her.

  Erin put her phone back in her purse, closed up the car, and locked it with the press of a button. “I guess I should have asked if you needed anything before I came back here.” Erin realized she was apologizing once again to Delores.

  Delores didn’t pay any attention to Erin’s apology. Instead, as the two of them entered the market, Delores said, “What did your father say at breakfast?”

  “About what?”

  “About his condition.”

  “He didn’t talk about it.”

  Delores’s brows caved. She walked over to the salad dressing aisle where no other shoppers were. “He’s in denial. I’ve tried to tell him that he needs to change his diet, but he won’t listen to me. I thought the best thing about your coming was that you would be able to convince him that he has to change.”

  Clearly Delores didn’t need anything at the grocery store either. She just wanted her chance to corner Erin away from Jack’s listening ears. What a crazy dynamic was at work in her dad’s life.

  “What did Jack eat for breakfast?”

  Erin gave a rundown, even though she felt as if she were betraying her father by r
eporting on one of his loves—food—and speaking negatively about the fish market hangout that replaced the teachers’ lounge of long ago.

  Delores scowled. “He’s eating himself into the grave. Eggs and cheese . . . I told him if he’s bent on going to that wretched place he should order oatmeal or at least nonfat yogurt with blueberries. He should concentrate on his cholesterol and get more antioxidants.”

  Erin didn’t know how to respond. Her dad had never been a tofu-and-granola sort of man. Was that how Delores ate? Was that why her dad said she didn’t cook or make him coffee?

  “You have to help me, Erin.” Delores now looked more approachable than she ever had. She was only four years older than Erin, and yet this was the first time she seemed to be speaking to Erin as a friend.

  In another uncharacteristic move, Delores reached over and clutched Erin’s upper arm. With a look of desperation she said, “Please say you’ll help me talk some sense into him. He has to stay strong and healthy. Erin, if anything happens to him . . .”

  “I know, I know. I feel the same way.” Erin placed her hand over Delores’s, partly to comfort her and partly in hopes that she would ease up on her grip. Erin’s heart was touched by Delores’s words and expressions in a way she never expected. “I don’t want anything to happen to my dad either.”

  Delores released her terror grip on Erin’s arm. “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  Erin nodded. She felt as if she finally believed that this woman truly loved her dad. “Yes, I understand,” Erin said softly.

  With a relieved look, Delores pulled away her hand. “Good. I’m glad you understand. Because I mean it. If Jack becomes an invalid . . . I can’t stay with him. Do you understand? I’ll have to leave him.”

  6

  May God be with you and bless you

  May you see your children’s children.

  May you be poor in misfortunes

  And rich in blessings.

  May you know nothing but happiness

  From this day forward.

  Erin relayed the details of her trip to Sharlene the next day after returning to Southern California. She felt the same emotional ache pressing against her chest that she had experienced after Delores’s announcement at the grocery store in front of all those salad dressing bottles. Delores had made it clear that she wasn’t willing to remain committed to Erin’s father “in sickness and in health.” The revelation was a brutal one since Erin was almost ready to accept Delores and appreciate her for all the ways Erin’s father had chosen to set his affections on her.

  “What did you say when Delores said she would leave him?” Sharlene was standing in their office’s corner with her arms folded, expressing the same sense of anger that Erin was fighting.

  “I didn’t say anything. To be honest, I was in shock. I thought she was going to say she loved him too much to bear the thought of anything happening to him. That’s what I was thinking at that moment.”

  “Of course that’s what you were thinking. That’s what anyone who loves another person should be thinking at a time like that. I want to scratch out that woman’s eyes. What did you say to your father? Did you at least leave him with some sort of hint that the woman he had married was self-serving?”

  “No. I couldn’t say anything. I really couldn’t. The whole time was so awkward. I left their place at one o’clock and barely made it to my seven o’clock flight home. Mike said he doesn’t think I should go up there again unless he’s with me. He doesn’t want them using me as the Ping-Pong ball in their odd match.”

  “This is pretty awful, if you ask me.”

  “I know. But it could be much worse. At least his health seems stable, according to my short conversation with the doctor.” Erin rubbed the back of her neck. “I plan to call my dad each week, and then Mike and I will go up in May.”

  “Okay.” Sharlene unfolded her arms and headed for the computer. “That’s that, then. You’re back, and we have work to do. Let me show you where we are with the agreements for the church venues on our list.”

  Erin and Sharlene dove back in with a shared enthusiasm for their venture. In many ways, it seemed as if Erin had never been gone. She thought about her dad more often as the weeks rolled by. She prayed for him more than she had before his stroke. And true to her plan, she called almost every week.

  Their conversations were short and focused mostly on questions her dad asked about his grandsons. He appeared to be in good health. Several times he thanked her for “checking in.” Occasionally Delores would be the one to answer the phone. She would give updates on how Jack had built new shelves in the garage or painted the front deck. Everything seemed to be back to normal.

  Business picked up for Erin and Sharlene with a gust of energy toward the end of April, and by the time May arrived, they were experiencing almost more success than they could handle. They hadn’t anticipated so many Christmas weddings. Erin’s favorite triumph was the agreement they secured with Patio Galaxy for the rental of outdoor luxury furniture groupings.

  Since Erin felt no urgency to make another visit in May to Oregon, she and Mike talked about taking a two-week vacation in the fall. They planned to fly to Portland, rent a car, and then, after visiting her dad and Delores, they would drive down the Oregon and California coasts.

  August zoomed by, and they were a full week into September before Mike and Erin talked again about their plans for a leisurely fall vacation.

  “To be honest,” Mike said, “unless you see things differently, I would rather put the money into getting all the boys home for Thanksgiving. Especially since Jordan is bringing Sierra with him.”

  “Then let’s do that,” Erin said. She paused a moment and said, “I could invite my dad and Delores to come for Thanksgiving.”

  Mike wasn’t quick to reply.

  “Do you think that would be good or not?”

  “I’m not opposed to your dad and Delores coming. It’s just that this is the first time we’ll all be together in a long time. With Jordan bringing Sierra, I want to make sure you feel like you have time to focus on them and not get hung up on any bickering between your dad and Delores. Why don’t you think about it some more?”

  The first week of November Erin brought up the topic again with Mike. She had been thinking about inviting her dad and Delores and she had also been thinking about inviting her brother, Tony, and his wife and daughters.

  Mike’s expression said it all. “Erin, honey, why would you do that to yourself?”

  “I thought that maybe, just maybe, if my dad and Tony were together again, they might mend their torn relationship. It’s what my mom hoped and prayed for every day.”

  “That’s what you should do, too, Erin. Pray. Hope. Those are two things you can do every day. There’s nothing wrong in wishing for the two of them to be reconnected, but do you really think you can facilitate that sort of restoration over Thanksgiving dinner?”

  Erin didn’t reply. They were sitting at the kitchen counter having their conversation, and she knew they had only five more minutes to discuss this before Mike had to leave and Sharlene would show up for their usual workday.

  “Where are you going to put all these people, by the way?” Mike asked.

  “We have air mattresses.”

  Mike gave her another look that expressed he thought she was nuts.

  Erin stood and loaded the dishwasher, making more noise with the rattling of the dishes than was necessary. “Okay. Fine. For Jordan and Sierra’s sake I won’t invite Tony and his family. I’m sure it’s a long shot that they could afford the airfare anyhow. I just wanted them to feel wanted and included and . . . I don’t know . . . welcome in the family regardless of the past.”

  “Then why don’t you invite your dad, Delores, Tony, and his family to all come for Christmas? The boys, too, of course. Jordan can bring Sierra. Joel and Grant can bring some friends home, too. Ask everyone to stay through New Year’s.”

  Erin turned to look at
her husband, stunned at his sudden gush of hospitality.

  Mike put up both hands. “Kidding! I was only kidding, Erin! Don’t even think of filling the house with a warring clan of the fighting Irish for Christmas.”

  She flicked her fingers at him, sprinkling him with water from her wet hands.

  He seemed to enjoy the teasing that had been so much a part of their early years of marriage. “I have to go. Too bad. Staying and having a water fight with you would be so much more fun.”

  “I can arrange to schedule a match later tonight.”

  “Promise?”

  She walked him to his car in the driveway and gave him a kiss by his car door. Mike gave her two kisses in return along with his usual pat on the backside. “Remember, water fight tonight. You promised.”

  Erin grinned. She had a wonderful husband, and she knew it.

  Sharlene pulled up as Mike was driving away and Erin was smiling at him and blowing kisses.

  “Aren’t you the blushing lovebug this morning? Did I show up for work too soon? We can work out a signal system, you know. You can tie a ribbon on the front door if you want me to go away and come back later. I mean, The Happiest Day doesn’t always have to be about our brides.”

  Erin laughed. “Today it does. We’ve had four more requests come in on the website since yesterday.”

  “I know. I saw them this morning. You know, I’ve been thinking . . .”

  “Uh-oh, should I be worried?”

  “No, you should be amazed and supportive of my fantastic idea. I’m thinking it will be especially favorable to you on mornings like this one.”

  “Does this have anything to do with your idea of moving our headquarters?” In the past four months, boxes of brochures and pamphlets had overflowed Erin’s home office and spilled into the garage as well as half the floor space in the guest room of their three-bedroom home. Sharlene and Erin often had talked about renting a storage shed or looking into renting office space.

 

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