The Summer Retreat

by Sheila Roberts

  But once they were married, he hoped he could convince her to get a bit less friendly with the opposite sex.

  She took another drink of her wine cooler. He’d told her he didn’t have a problem with her drinking, but how much did she drink? It was pretty early in the evening, and that bottle was already half-drained. She never ordered anything other than an occasional margarita or a glass of wine when they were out together. And lately that had been a rare occurrence. He reminded himself that it was a party, and nobody went to hell for drinking wine coolers. And if anyone from his congregation showed up and said something he’d tell them as much.

  She caught sight of him and waved, and he joined her and Brody. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” he observed, pointing to her drink. Now, why was he bringing that up?

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she quipped. “Oh, yeah, here. What can I get you, Paul? I’m sure I can’t tempt you with a wine cooler, but we have Pepsi and Orange Crush.”

  Tempt you. Was she making fun of him? “I’ll take a Pepsi,” he said, and she nodded and moved to where the tub of drinks on ice was wedged into the sand.

  “You are one lucky man,” Brody told him.

  Yeah, he was. Celeste was sweet and vivacious. Why was he being so nitpicky all of a sudden?

  “Your life will never be dull with Celeste around.”

  She would certainly make life interesting. And he was ready for that. Somewhere along the way, his life had become routine and a little boring. He’d felt more like a spectator of life than a participant as he’d baptized babies, married people, attended birthday and anniversary parties. Of course, everyone included him in their celebrations, but he was ready for some celebrations of his own, ready to have a good woman beside him, helping him as he did his part to make the world a better place. His world would definitely be a better place with Celeste in it. He hoped he could wean her off those wine coolers.

  * * *

  “We’re a success,” Celeste said to Jenna as more of Aunt Edie’s friends arrived with presents and food. Everyone had shown up bearing something, and bowls of various salads, along with sliced watermelon and enough chips to stock a convenience store, sat jammed precariously together on the makeshift food table.

  “I’m glad,” Jenna said. “She deserves it.”

  “You’re a good great-niece,” Celeste said.

  Jenna put an arm around her shoulders. “So are you.”

  Paul had been visiting with their aunt, who was holding court on a log they’d fixed up for her with a large cushion and a blanket. He’d set a bag from Beachcomber, a favorite shop in town, at her feet. She gave his arm a pat and he left, returning to Celeste’s side.

  “What did you get her?” Celeste asked.

  “Bubble bath and some lotions. My mom always said you can’t go wrong giving a woman toiletries, so I thought it was a safe bet.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a safe bet,” Celeste said. These days she was all about safe bets.

  The guests began to roast their hot dogs and sample the chips, and soon people were perched on logs around the fire or sitting against them, enjoying the feast. The evening’s entertainment was a tribute to Aunt Edie. Poems were read and toasts were made. Some of the older guests reminisced about the days when Moonlight Harbor was still a newly minted town. Aunt Edie was in her element.

  Celeste and Jenna hadn’t allowed their great-aunt in the kitchen at all that afternoon and she almost hadn’t known what to do with herself until Sabrina saved the day by doing her hair and giving her a manicure. Their mom had come down bearing presents—a new blouse and sweater—and Aunt Edie was all dolled up in them, along with some jeans Celeste had bought. “No elastic waist, Auntie. You don’t need it.” Edie was beaming as she opened her presents.

  Even Pete came through with a present, giving her a gift certificate for The Drunken Sailor. “We can go out next week and keep the party going, Edie, old girl,” he told her.

  Celeste couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Leave it to Pete, the mooch, to find a way to give a present that would benefit him, as well.

  “You did a great job planning this,” Paul said to Celeste as they sat side by side on a log, finishing up their hot dogs.

  “That was mostly my sister,” she said as she fed the last bite of hers to Nemo. “I just helped. It did turn out well, though. And I’m glad I could be here for it. I missed her birthday last year.” Jenna had thrown a little party for Aunt Edie, but Celeste had been off camping with Emerson. She should’ve ditched him and come to the party. At least she was there now, and she hoped her aunt would have many more birthday celebrations. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe Aunt Edie’s eighty-four. She sure doesn’t act like it. I hope I can be like her when I’m that age, all happy and full of life.”

  “You already are. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

  “Aww, thanks,” she said, and rewarded him with a kiss. Oh, yes, she had chosen well. She and Paul were going to be so happy together. She polished off her second wine cooler and Paul looked suddenly concerned. “What?”

  He shrugged. “Just wondered how many of those you were going to drink. I’d hate to see you stumble into the water and drown,” he added lightly.

  She frowned. Was he monitoring how much she was drinking? “Don’t worry. Three’s my limit. And if I fell in the water you’d come save me, right?”

  “I will always be there to save you,” he said. “And I wasn’t judging, really.”

  He could have fooled her. “You don’t have to worry, Paul. I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “I know, but it’s hard not to be concerned about people even when there’s no cause to be. Occupational hazard, I guess.”

  “You’ve probably already got enough people to worry about, so there’s no need to add me to the list,” she said and hoped he got the message. Might as well get the man trained right from the beginning.

  “You’re right,” he said and gave her a one-armed hug.

  There. They got that settled.

  “This is the best birthday I’ve had in years,” Aunt Edie said, smiling around at everyone. “I don’t know how to thank you all.”

  “You just keep on being you,” Patricia Whiteside said and everyone murmured their agreement.

  Jenna fetched the cake, and Seth broke out his guitar and led everyone in singing “Happy Birthday.” Two candles, an eight and a four, sat on it, and the guests cheered when Aunt Edie succeeded in blowing them out before the wind could.

  “If I have anything to say about it, you’re going to make it to a hundred,” Jenna said and kissed her.

  “Hear, hear!” Nora cheered.

  “And now it’s time for s’mores,” said Brody, reaching for the bag of marshmallows Paul had brought.

  “Whoa, not yet,” Paul said, snatching it.

  “We’re not having s’mores?” Brody asked, confused.

  “We are,” Paul replied. “But I want Celeste to make hers first.” He handed her the bag and she noticed it had already been opened and resealed with a tie tab.

  She untwisted the tab, opened the bag and pulled out a marshmallow.

  “Not that one,” Paul said, looking at it.

  “O-okay.” she said. Which one of them had been into the wine coolers? “Here you go, Brody. You can have the reject,” she said, giving it to him.”

  “There’s a special one in there,” said Paul. “Look again.”

  A special one. Hmm. Maybe... She eagerly pulled out another marshmallow. Nothing special about that.

  “I’ll take that one, too,” Brody said, and stuck it on his roasting fork.

  She peered into the bag again and something glinted at her. Her pulse stopped.

  “Did you find it?” Paul asked, and she could hear the excitement in his voice.

  The same impatience she’d f
elt on Christmas morning as a child swept over her. She tipped the whole bag, sending marshmallows falling into the sand.

  “Yuck,” said Sabrina.

  “Oh, wow!” Jenna pointed to the diamond ring poking out of one.

  Everyone had stopped talking now as Celeste picked up the marshmallow and removed the ring. Next thing she knew, Paul was down on one knee in the sand, taking her hand, gazing up into her face with such love in his eyes.

  He got no further than, “Celeste, will you—” before she cried, “Yes,” and bent and kissed him to the cheers and applause of their family and friends.

  Nemo, excited by what was going on, joined in, jumping on the couple and knocking them over, which left Celeste and their guests laughing and Paul frowning. In fact, she could’ve sworn she heard him say something very un-minister-like.

  “Did you just say what I think you said?” she whispered, and his face flushed.

  He managed to smile, though, and help her to her feet. “Even pastors mess up once in a while.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad to see you’re human,” she said as he brushed the sand off her back.

  He lowered his voice. “Human enough that I can hardly wait for our wedding night.”

  So much for Henry’s insinuations that Paul wouldn’t cut it as a lover.

  “I hope you don’t mind me stealing the spotlight at your party,” he said to Aunt Edie.

  “Oh, my goodness, no,” she said, tears in her eyes. “This is a wonderful birthday present. I’m so happy for you both.”

  Celeste wriggled the gooey ring onto her finger and accepted the congratulations of her family and the people who had all become good friends. This was a perfect moment and the beginning of a great life.

  She went through the rest of the evening in a happy daze.

  “I’m thrilled for you, dear,” her mother said, giving her a hug before she followed Aunt Edie off to bed. “He’s a wonderful man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Celeste said.

  “You finally got it right,” Jenna said as the two sisters settled on the couch for their usual nighttime chat, Nemo dozing at their feet.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You had me worried for a while there.”

  She didn’t have to say why. Celeste knew. She’d almost made a romantic misstep, but in the end, her brain had gone back to work and, for once in her life, she’d made a smart choice when it came to men.

  She could hardly sleep that night, and when she finally drifted off, her dreams were a swirl of wedding cakes and bridal gowns and dancing the tango with Paul. Oh, yes, there would be dance lessons.

  * * *

  Sunday morning she practically skipped into church, thanking God with every step for how wonderfully her life was turning out. But she was too preoccupied with thinking about possible wedding dates and reception venues and where she and Paul would live to pay attention to his sermon. His little house was pleasant. It wasn’t on the beach but it would do for a start. It did have a fenced yard, which would be good for Nemo. They could have company for dinner every Sunday afternoon and...

  Jenna elbowed her, bringing her back to the present. “He wants you to go up front.”

  “Up front?” she whispered.

  “Announcement time. Duh,” Jenna whispered back.

  Of course. Announcement time. A spike of fear burst Celeste’s happy bubble, and there went her heart again. She wouldn’t have minded if he told the whole city that they were engaged, took out an ad in the paper. But announcing it here, in church, in front of everyone, including the someones who didn’t like her... Oh, please, don’t make me do this.

  He’d stepped away from the pulpit and was holding out a hand to her.

  There was no escape. Time to put on the big-girl panties and face both friends and rivals. She made her way to the front of the sanctuary, her heart racing.

  You will be a good pastor’s wife, she assured herself, and you’ll love these people as much as Paul does. Even the ones who don’t deserve it.

  The pep talk didn’t help. Her heart was still beating like crazy and she was afraid she’d pass out.

  She managed to get to where he stood without fainting, and he took her hand and drew her next to him. “I just wanted you all to know that Celeste Jones has agreed to be my wife.”

  This was rewarded with applause, a couple of cat calls from the younger men and plenty of sighs from the women.

  Most of the women. Susan Frank looked disapproving. Hyacinth’s two friends Bethany and Treeva were frowning and Hyacinth was looking pale and ready to cry.

  Celeste’s earlier happiness began to shrivel. Poor Hyacinth. She’d lost one man she loved and never gotten the other. It didn’t seem fair. Then there was Susan who, of course, wouldn’t approve of Celeste on general principles. An ache began to nibble at her temples.

  Paul wanted her to stand with him after church and accept everyone’s congratulations, and most people did seem truly happy for them.

  Almost everyone. “You two have rushed into this awfully fast,” said one of the older women.

  “I know it seems that way, Mrs. Miller, but what can I say? I fell head over heels in love with Celeste, and I know you will, too,” Paul told her.

  “Well, of course, I hope you’ll be very happy,” the woman said. The expression on her face added, “But I doubt it.”

  Bethany’s congratulations were stiffer than a Scotch whiskey straight up, and Treeva’s wasn’t much better. Hyacinth was nowhere to be seen and Celeste decided that was for the best.

  “I hope we haven’t made a mistake,” she said later, when it was just the two of them sitting on his front porch.

  “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “Some people seem to think we have.”

  “What do you think?” he asked softly.

  “I think I hope they’re wrong.”

  He smiled. “I know they’re wrong.”

  Okay, she could go with that.

  * * *

  “I told you. You should have said something,” Bethany scolded Hyacinth as she and Treeva sat with her in Books and Beans, drinking lattes.

  “What could I have said? He fell for her the minute he saw her. A woman can’t compete with that.”

  “Do you really see her as a pastor’s wife?” asked Treeva.

  Hyacinth shrugged. “She’s nice.”

  “She’s nice to a lot of men,” sneered Bethany. “She’s a ding dong.”

  “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” Hyacinth said irritably. “It’s a done deal.”

  “It’s not a done deal until they’re married,” Bethany insisted.

  Hyacinth shook her head. “Paul’s an honorable man. Once he’s committed to someone he’s not going to go back on it. He won’t break their engagement.”

  “Better a broken engagement than a broken marriage,” said Treeva. “Those two will never last.”

  “You don’t know that,” Hyacinth argued, although why she was arguing for Paul to stay with Celeste Jones she had no idea.

  “Okay, if you don’t want him, then I guess you can stand by and watch him marry the wrong woman,” Bethany said with a shake of her head. “But remember, the Lord helps those who help themselves.”

  “That’s not even in the Bible,” Hyacinth said.

  “It’s still true,” Bethany retorted.

  Hyacinth stared at her half-empty cup. The cup is half-empty... The cup is half-full. Who cares? There’s nothing in the cup but poop.

  She left her friends to talk about how poorly she’d handled the situation and how stupid she was and drove back to her little house. Once there she sat on the front porch step and watched the deer, who was grazing in the neighbor’s yard, asking herself where she’d gone wrong.

  The answer to that was simple enough
. She hadn’t been a Celeste.

  * * *

  Jenna took over maid patrol on Sunday so that Celeste could be with Paul. They didn’t have much time alone until late in the evening, as several invitations came in from members of the congregation. Lunch, afternoon coffee, dinner—they made the rounds, and their hosts fussed over them and predicted a wonderful future.

  “Every minister should have a wife,” said Bootsie Edwards when they lunched with her and her husband, Kenneth. “A minister’s wife does so much. A good one is worth her weight in gold.”

  “What does a minister’s wife do?” Celeste asked.

  “It varies,” Bootsie said, pouring her more iced tea. “Some sing in the choir.”

  Celeste liked to sing, but she wasn’t very good. And she couldn’t envision the choir director wanting to do a version of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

  “Some lead Bible studies.”

  She sure didn’t know enough to do that.

  “Some do home visitations.”

  Visiting people, she could get into that.

  “Visit the sick.”

  Uh, no, thank you.

  “Have people over. Plan events.”

  Now she was talking Celeste’s language. “I could definitely do that,” Celeste said. And she could work with the kids, plan events for them. Oh, yeah, she could see it now—fall carnivals with face-painting and bounce houses, summer day camps, crafting for the artistically inclined. She’d recently discovered the enjoyment of painting tiles. Wouldn’t that be fun to do with a bunch of little kids?

  “You’ll find your place,” Bootsie said with a firm nod.

  She hoped so. She wanted to fit in, wanted to be the kind of wife Paul could be proud of.

  “You will be,” he assured her later when it was just the two of them, strolling along the beach, hand in hand. “Some of our people can get a little stuffy. You’re exactly what we need to liven things up.”