Cottage by the Sea

by Robin Jones Gunn

  “Dad, what is it?” Erin asked.

  He patted his chest.

  “Is it your heart? Your lungs?”

  He touched his hand to his nose. Others were listening in now, trying to discern why he was drawing in such deep breaths. He didn’t seem to be in any pain or panic, judging by his facial expression.

  “It’s the sea air,” Erin said. “You’re just breathing it in, aren’t you?”

  The half smile rose. He drew in a long, deep breath through his nose, his chin held high.

  “You just want to fill your lungs with this salty air, don’t you?”

  He drew in another deep draft like a prisoner who hadn’t seen the outside world for weeks. In truth, that was the case. His face took on a more robust hue. Two of the men whom Erin recognized from the Jenny Bee’s breakfast a year and a half ago came over and talked with Jack. She watched as he made good use of his eyebrow, his pointed finger, and the washcloth Marge had left in his lap. He was able to wipe his own mouth now, bending his left arm straight up and patting it dry.

  Erin went back to her meal, enjoying the time-consuming, messy venture more than she had expected to. Extracting the fleshy good stuff from the crusty ole crab seemed a not-so-coincidental parallel to what was happening with her dad right now.

  Only one thing weighed heavily on Erin. How could they take him away from this? Who besides Erin and Mike would visit him in Irvine? All his old friends had moved out of the area. Everything there reminded him of Faith and the forty-five years they had lived in that community and watched it grow from bean fields and strawberry patches to a crowded city jammed with traffic. He would be confined to a room. It would be like caging the lion once again.

  Not ideal, but it had to be done.

  Erin looked around at the salt-of-the-earth folks gathered in the grassy area and on the deck. Two more had walked down the gravel driveway and were at the folding table scooping up hummus with potato chips and greeting others who were offering them something cold to drink. Tomorrow she and Mike would be down to only two more days to finalize transportation arrangements and move her father to Irvine. Did these folks know this was Jack’s going-away party? Was it, in an odd sort of way, her father’s wake? A wake that he got to attend?

  In the same way that Jordan and Sierra’s wedding celebration had been just perfect for them, the impromptu cookout on Hidden Cottage’s deck during the beautiful August evening turned out to be just perfect for her father.

  Erin glanced toward the sea that had now closed its shades and turned out the light for the night. All the vibrant glow of life, love, and laughter was gathered around them now, under the twinkle lights strung by Sierra as well as in the sparkling glimmers from the heavens.

  12

  May brooks and trees and singing hills

  Join in the chorus too

  And every gentle wind that blows

  Send happiness to you.

  As the evening festivities wound down, Erin and Mike talked through the arrangements for the night. Someone needed to stay with Jack now that Delores was gone. Marge had assured them she would be back at seven thirty in the morning, but in his condition, someone needed to be near him at all times.

  They decided Mike would stay at Hidden Cottage that night. He said he wanted Erin to get a good night’s sleep, and he didn’t think that would happen if she stayed at the cottage. Her dad’s throat needed to be suctioned every few hours, and the machine’s noise was impossible to sleep through.

  Erin returned to the Shamrock along with Jordan and Sierra. Sylvia already had arranged for the still honeymooning couple to stay in the “deluxe” unit two lodgettes down from where Erin was staying. From the outside Erin couldn’t see why their unit was “deluxe,” but they were quick to cozy in for the night, and she didn’t ask to take a tour of their cabin.

  Sleeping only in snatches, Erin wished she had just stayed at the cottage with Mike and her dad. Being alone was dreadful. In a very small way, she understood her father’s choice to marry Delores after being alone.

  Erin fretted about how things were going to work out once they transported Jack back to Irvine. The last conversation she and Mike had on the topic landed them on the same page. Since no openings currently were available in any of the convalescent facilities near their home, the only answer was for Jack to live with them.

  The darkness that surrounded Erin in the empty motel room provided a blank screen for her fast-moving thoughts throughout the night. Before her, images played out as she tried to think through where they would install the wheelchair ramps at their house and how they would clear the guest room to make space for her father and his equipment. They would need to find a proper hospital bed; the recliner he was using now wasn’t the answer.

  Erin felt her chest constrict as she thought about all the ways her life was about to change now that she and Mike had become her father’s caregivers by default. She knew better than to give way to her rising anger, but she disregarded the nudge to pull back. Instead she followed the trail of a few precisely placed thoughts that led her right to the smoldering campfire of her resentment. With only the slightest breath, she rekindled the angry flames.

  How dare Delores leave! How unbelievably cruel. Not only did Delores abandon my dad, she also abandoned Mike and me.

  Erin’s anger grew until it filled the room, and she wanted to scream. Any lingering sweetness from the “wonderful world” moments at the cookout was gone. All sense of peace from her “be still and know” exercise that afternoon while gazing on the ocean also was gone. She was alone. Alone in a place where all she could see were images of how restricted her life was about to become.

  The sourness stayed with her into the new day and hung on her the same way the coastal fog hung over the cottage. She didn’t bother Jordan and Sierra in their cabin when she woke up but rather dressed and drove over to the cottage at 7:20, feeling groggy and grumpy. When she entered, the cottage’s closeness and the strong smells coming from the living room caught her off guard. Mike opened one eye and lifted his hand in a halfhearted wave to her from his reclined position on the couch but didn’t say anything. He looked exhausted.

  Trying to be as quiet as she could, Erin opened the kitchen window to let in some air. She was relieved to see Marge’s car heading down the gravel drive. Erin went outside to greet her, blinking back her tears.

  “Is everything okay?” Marge asked.

  “I just needed some air. And I wanted to say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking care of my father.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “I know. But it’s a job that not everyone could do, and you do it so well. I just wanted you to know I appreciate you.”

  “Thank you for saying that. I like your dad. He’s not like most patients I’ve had over the years. He has a strong spirit.”

  “He does.”

  “It’s going to take a lot out of him when you move him from here. You know that, don’t you?”

  Erin nodded.

  “I thought the party last night was good for him.”

  “It was.”

  “Did you see how engaged your dad was with everyone? Not the whole time, of course, but clearly he was having a great time.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Is anyone with your dad right now?”

  “Yes. Mike is on the couch. I’ve only been here for a few minutes.”

  “I better go in there and get to work.”

  “Thanks, Marge. Again, I really appreciate you.”

  Marge went inside to go about her duties. Erin realized she had never come right out and told Marge that Delores wasn’t coming back. Perhaps Mike had said something. It didn’t really matter because, aside from everyone in town knowing everyone else’s business, Marge was, as she said, doing her job. She was professional enough not to ask about personal family matters.

  For a moment Erin considered going back to the Shamrock and trying to catch a few mor
e hours of sleep. Instead she decided to stretch her legs. Her restlessness led her across the grassy area in the fog and through the woods. She came out of the gathering of trees and found she was standing on the top of a stack of black volcanic rocks. Below the rocks the waves were receding, revealing tide pools and a pebble-filled cove under the overhanging cleft of rock. In the same way that the cottage was hidden from the road, this cove was hidden from the cottage and the main road.

  Erin’s first thought was of how her three boys would have reveled in this sort of a secret pirates’ cove when they were younger. The rocks formed a jagged path down to the tide pools, and Erin decided to attempt it. She slipped once but caught herself. It wasn’t a difficult descent. But the rocks were slick.

  When her feet were planted in the pebbled cove, she looked up at the tree-lined cliff. The fog clung to the trees, hiding their evergreen tops from view. Here, in the sheltered cove, the air was damp from sea mist. The shallow waves crept among the tide pools, fingering the anemones and causing them to respond with faint shivers.

  Erin lingered in this place of sea sounds and scents, bending close to examine a colony of tiny mussels clinging to the unmovable rock. Unusual, mosslike growths covered one of the boulders with a deep green softness. Her shoes were wet. Her nose dripped. Her fleece jacket had kept out only so much moisture, and now she was legitimately cold.

  Even so, she liked it there.

  She lingered a little longer. This was a place where a different sort of life unfolded in time with the tides’ ebb and flow. Tiny creatures called this place their home. All the basic elements of air, water, and light found their way to this unobtrusive place and carried out their own steady life cycle.

  Many analogies to what was happening in her father’s inner life could be drawn from this shaded cove. But Erin didn’t want to dwell on any spiritual lessons or nuggets of hope the way she had yesterday when she sat on the bench. This morning she wanted to hold on to her anger.

  That anger gave her strength as she scaled back up the slick rocks and returned to the cottage with soggy tennis shoes. Mike was in the kitchen. He greeted her with concern.

  “I didn’t know where you went.”

  “There’s a small cove through the woods. I went down to have a look. I can see where the ‘moss’ comes into the name of this place.” She pulled off her wet shoes and placed them on a rack in the bathroom.

  Mike followed Erin with a cup of coffee he had made and motioned for her to follow him upstairs where they could speak in private.

  With his voice lowered, Mike said, “I don’t see how I can leave you here and go home tomorrow. We still have too much to figure out before we can move your dad down to Irvine.”

  For the next twenty minutes Erin and Mike discussed the possibilities of what could be done and reviewed all the inroads they had made earlier that week in settling the specifics. In spite of all of Mike’s attempts at lists, he had failed to come up with a workable plan. Not that Erin placed any blame on him. Both of them had become caught up in her dad’s daily care and the sleep deprivation that came with it. Mike’s frustration and exhaustion now were coming through in his voice.

  “Did you sleep at all last night?” Erin asked.

  “Not much. That’s another reason I don’t want to drive all the way back home by myself.”

  “Why don’t you fly home? Jordan and Sierra are going to leave today. You could ride with them to the airport and catch a flight home this evening.”

  “Are you sure you want all of us to leave you here?”

  “I’d rather all of you stay, of course. But that’s not practical. You need to get back to work and so do Sierra and Jordan. I don’t like that I need to stay here by myself, but at the moment, that’s the only option I can see.”

  They talked a little more about how to ready their guest room for Erin’s dad and set up a schedule with a day nurse in Irvine. Mike agreed with Erin that he would be able to work out an arrangement more quickly once he returned home. At the moment he was leaning toward finding a room in an extended-care facility, even though they had been told none was available. Mike wanted to try some face-to-face visits instead of just phone calls before he gave up on that option. As soon as he had everything in place, he would fly back up, they would have some sort of workable transportation figured out, and they would take it from there.

  Until then, all Erin could do was wait.

  After Mike left with Jordan and Sierra, Erin moved her things from the Shamrock and settled into the dormer room. She liked being at the cottage better than being at the Shamrock. Not just because she had immediate access to her father but also because of the view of the pine trees out the window. Just beyond the trees to the right, she could catch a glimpse of the ocean. That small slice of the vast horizon and sparkling sea gave her spirit a place to go, a place to focus and to think.

  Sharlene called while Erin was in the midst of settling in and asked if she had time to go over a few things.

  “Sure. I was planning to call you later, but I can take a break now.” She sat on the edge of the upstairs bed and turned toward the window so she could watch the ocean as they talked.

  “I think we need to go ahead and hire an assistant right away. I know we were going to talk about it when you returned, but the way things are shaping up, we need to make a decision now.”

  “I agree.”

  “I sent some résumés to you a few hours ago. Did you have a chance to look at them yet?”

  “No. I haven’t looked at them.”

  Sharlene paused as if waiting for a better answer.

  “I can try to work on that next. Or, you know what, Sharlene? I trust you. Why don’t you make the decision? You’re the one who will be working with her right away. I hate to slow you down any further.”

  “If you’re sure you’re okay with that, then I do have one person who rose to the top. Her name is Ashley. If you have a chance to look at the files, you’ll see her résumé.”

  “By all means, go ahead and hire her.”

  Sharlene let out a sigh. “It’s not been ideal for either of us.”

  “No, it hasn’t.”

  “So, you think you’ll be back in a week?”

  “Yes. Maybe sooner if Mike can work out the details.”

  “Well, I feel for you guys. I really do. But I have to tell you, Erin, if you could still do a few things while you’re there, like respond to e-mails, it would help me a lot.”

  “I understand.”

  “I mean, it’s been almost a month since you’ve been able to give the business your full attention. First the wedding and then your dad. I’m spending most of my time dashing around trying to plug up holes, and I’m falling unprofessionally behind on everything.”

  “Hopefully this new assistant will help out.”

  “Yes, but you and I both know it’s going to take several weeks of training before she has a good feel for what we do and how we want her to present The Happiest Day to our clients. That’s why I was hoping we could wait until you returned before we hired someone.”

  Erin could hear the tension rising in Sharlene’s voice. She had to admit that she didn’t have an accurate concept of the amount of pressure her vacancy had placed on Sharlene.

  “What can I do to help?” Erin asked. “Aside from coming back to Irvine today. What can I do besides e-mails while I’m here?”

  Sharlene paused before answering in a calmer voice. “Let’s just start with the e-mails. That would help a lot.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  “I’m not trying to complain; I hope you understand that. I know you’re in a crisis situation. I just don’t want our business to fail because of it.”

  Erin thought Sharlene’s assessment of their business was exaggerated. That is, until she hung up and dove into all the e-mails waiting for her. She discovered they had several unhappy brides who had received incorrect information about services listed on The Happiest Day website that were no long
er available. Erin worked for several hours writing e-mails, making phone calls, and coordinating with their web designer to put the long-overdue updates in place.

  Two bad reviews of The Happiest Day had been posted to a website that evaluated local businesses in Irvine. It took Erin three days and dozens of phone calls and e-mails to set things right and to convince the reviewers to pull their negative words off the site.

  As the week wore on, Erin fell into a routine with the e-mails and Marge as well. Each night Erin made herself comfortable on the couch and slept in snatches, ready to quickly attend to her father whenever he had difficulty swallowing. She had become adept at using the suction machine, to clear his throat and mouth, and being back to a light sleep all within ten minutes.

  During the day she tried to catch a nap upstairs before Marge went home. On Thursday afternoon, in the middle of her nap, Sharlene called with the news that she had acquired a partnership with Nannette’s Creations, an exclusive bridal shop in Newport Beach that Erin had been pursuing for more than a year. Nannette was older, well established, exclusive, and had responded with cool indifference each time Erin had contacted her. She had made it clear by her aloofness that she didn’t need to be associated with the likes of Erin and such a fledgling venture as The Happiest Day.

  “How in the world did you get Nannette to agree?”

  “You would be so proud of me. I went in yesterday with a gorgeous bouquet from Julianne’s Floral. It’s right there down the block from Nannette’s.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I waited in the car until I saw Nannette through the front window. I went in and placed the bouquet on the reception desk and told her the flowers were a gift from me. She asked why, and I said, ‘Because you designed a wedding dress for one of our clients at The Happiest Day, and for that particular bride, how she felt about herself in that dress was ninety percent of the reason her wedding was the happiest day of her life.’”