by Ellie Hall
Her shoulders dropped. No, she needed to process his return to her life never mind the fact that she’d driven about twenty hours in the last two days, discovered paradise, and moved in with her mother.
But she’d waited over ten years to see him again and if he was willing to meet with her, if she wasn’t at risk of falling asleep, she’d do whatever it took to find out what had happened between them.
When she returned to the area behind the counter, the others were waiting. “So tell us about your first date. Wait, have you dated him before?” Betty asked, raising and lowering her eyebrows.
“No, we never dated,” Eisley answered.
“He looks very datable,” Billie said with a wink, playing along.
The girls gathered around the soda machine that hummed and muffled their voices.
“He was the boy next door. Raised by his father. He had two brothers who were troublemakers. Their house was constant chaos. I think he enjoyed hanging out with my mom and me, although she’s her own brand of crazy.”
Betty laughed. “My daughters would say the same about me.”
“You have kids?” Claudia asked.
“Five. Three boys and two girls. Twelve grandchildren and nine great grandbabies and counting.” Betty beamed. “Talk about chaos. But let’s hear more about Ford. It’s a good, strong name.”
“We were friends for over a decade. Then he disappeared for a decade. Now, he pops up here of all places.” She went on to explain how he’d ignored her calls and letters for years. She’d only given up that last Christmas, but mostly she didn’t send a card because she couldn’t afford it and she wasn’t sure if his father still lived at his old address—Diana said she hadn’t seen him for about a month before she’d moved to Florida.
“Things have a way of washing to shore in Blue Bay Beach. Some say it’s fate.” Betty gazed toward the sea.
“That’s what Ford said.” Eisley recalled his comment.
“Or is it destiny?” Billie asked as she restocked the napkin dispenser.
“What’s the difference?” Claudia wiped down the salt and pepper shakers.
“Most people believe that fate is something which has been predetermined. It is fixed while destiny can be influenced by the path we choose to take and the choices we make. But both agree on one thing: whatever happens is inevitable.” Betty shrugged.
“Who cares? He’s a whole lotta man muscle,” a customer said as she breezed by.
The four women broke into laughter.
“That is true,” Claudia said.
“Either way, he’s here and you’re here. Are you going to go on a date with him?” Betty bounced on her toes.
“I’m upset, hurt. He brushed me off and basically threw away ten years of friendship. I’m not going to date him; I’m going to give him an earful.” Eisley’s jaw tightened.
“The dare was a date,” Betty said. “Claudia is next. Then Billie.” She bumped the restaurant owner on the hip. If Betty weren’t petite and older, Eisley was quite sure Billie would’ve bumped her back, landing her smack on her backside. Clearly, Billie was not interested in dating. Neither was she.
“I don’t date customers,” Billie said.
“No, dear. You don’t date period. I’d like to see that change before I’m too old.”
Billie grumbled and wandered off at the same time the cook called Eisley’s order. She occupied her mind with how Billie was nice enough, but not the kind of person she’d want to see genuinely upset. Owning and managing a restaurant took some grit and even though her hands were clean, she seemed to have a bit of it under her nails. She’d never want to be on Billie’s bad side that was for sure.
Eisley set the plate in front of Ford. “Do you want a drink refill?”
“Do you want a few fries?” he offered, nudging the plate toward her.
She was a sucker for French fries and he knew it. She took one just so he’d have one fewer. She fought against sticking her tongue out at him like a petulant child.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked.
“I’m working, Ford,” she ground out through clenched teeth. She had to be strong and not give in to the handsome, familiar man sitting in front of her.
“Then I’ll take my time.” He made a show of spreading his napkin slowly on his lap as though at a fancy, seven-course meal.
She sighed. “I’ve had a super long day. Can we meet tomorrow or—?” Or never. As minutes passed, she wanted to retreat and not revisit the pain and confusion of losing her best friend who left without an explanation. As much as she wanted to talk to him and hear his side of the story, she became equally afraid of what she’d hear. What she knew to be true, what she’d proven—she was no better at keeping money in her bank account than she was at keeping a decent man in her life whether as a friend or more.
“Can I have your number?” he asked. He pulled out his phone and passed it to her.
The password screen appeared. She typed in her birthday without thinking because that was her code. The phone opened up. Eisley shifted back on her heels. Ford’s eyes locked on hers, causing her stomach to churn and a knot to form in her throat. Why would he have her birthday as his phone password? It must’ve been a coincidence, just like everything that day—not kismet as her mother had mentioned or fate or destiny.
She punched in her number and then went back to refill his water. The glass overflowed because she couldn’t stop thinking about Ford. The cut of his jaw and the scar that nearly reached it, the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her but turned flat when he glanced away.
When they were younger, they’d been the kinds of friends who knew the locations of moles and freckles and how his second toe was longer than the big one. He was privy to the fact that there was a spot just below her rib cage that was always ticklish.
What had happened? What kept him away?
As Eisley returned to the counter, she felt his long lingering gaze. Her coworkers all stared at him like they were about to swoon.
Her nerves were as frayed as the ropes on the dock. “I need something sweet.” Eisley’s eyes landed on a pie in a refrigerated case. “Pie. Oh, pie, please. Does that count as a meal on my shift?” she asked.
Betty was already cutting her a piece. “Once slice and all is right. That’s what I always say.” She cut a second piece and delivered it to Ford’s table.
Eisley groaned when she heard Betty say the pie was on the house. In fact, he glanced over his massive shoulder in her direction, but she quickly ducked behind the soda machine.
At last, he went to the register to pay his tab.
Eisley nearly charged him a thousand dollars as her shaky hands stabbed the keys on the machine.
“I’ll call you,” he said as he took the change, but left the bills for a tip. Then he sauntered down the dock.
After they closed for the night, the four women cleaned up and then sat at a table by the window open to the ocean. The warm breeze was soothing and as Eisley finished her pie, she realized there were worse places she could be.
“So, we know about your former flame,” Betty started.
“Ford is not my former flame.”
“I stand corrected. Your current flame.” Betty giggled.
“He’s not my anything other than my ex-friend.”
Betty and Billie exchanged grins.
The older woman looked up at Eisley over her glasses as she tallied the tips. “Stay in this business long enough and you start to recognize things. Love for instance. It’s one of those things that’s almost impossible to explain or understand. But it marks people in a unique way that’s almost visible if you know what to look for.”
“Love,” Eisley stammered.
“Love,” Betty repeated.
Billie rolled her eyes. Claudia looked on as though the conversation was about as comfortable as being thrown in the ocean fully dressed—on a winter day.
Eisley shoved the last bite of pie in her mouth.
“S
o, tell us what brought you here,” Billie said, getting the conversation back on track.
“I lost my job in Baltimore. This is just temporary until I—” But Eisley wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.
“What did you do there?” Claudia asked.
“I worked in the office at a car valet.” She then went on to list the dozen jobs she’d had over the years that barely kept her rent and bills paid. As she looked at the last decade of her life, she’d been in a sort of limbo, not using her degree because that meant committing to something. It was as though she was waiting for something to happen or maybe someone to return to her life.
“I’m not sure what I want to do when I grow up,” she whispered. Those were the same words she’d spoken to Ford during one of their last conversations. He was preparing for the Marines and she was getting ready for college but hadn’t declared her major. They’d been going over ideas along with her strengths and interests. She’d never committed and simply got a liberal arts degree.
“What was that?” Betty asked.
“I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up, which is a problem since I’m nearly thirty.”
They all started chattering about their various careers—Billie was basically born into the restaurant biz; Betty was a people person and worked a couple of shifts a week so she didn’t drive her husband mad. Claudia was a musician and in the process of getting her master’s degree in music theory.
“I always told my kids to dream big, but plan big too because life can happen even when you’re not asleep. So be awake on your feet. Take action to bring your dreams to life.” Betty smiled softly then tucked her tips into her purse.
As Eisley rode the bike back to the cottage that night, all she wanted to do was sleep, but she remained on the steps of the porch, reflecting on the day and Betty’s words about fate, destiny, love. Dreaming big, but planning and taking action floated around in her mind.
The scent of coconut wafted in the air and she had a sudden craving for ice cream.
Chapter 4
Ford
Standing on the upper deck of the house he’d recently inherited, Ford took in the sweeping vista of the bay. It was indeed as blue as the sky. The sun was bright and beamed off the white sand beach in the distance. Just a quick jaunt across Mansion Mile and he’d have his feet in the water.
A small hand tugged on his. Their eyes met. So much blue. He scooped Coco into his arms.
His daughter was another anchor in the storm of his life and yet she’d partly caused it. He sighed, pecked her on the temple, and the two bobbed down the stairs.
They crossed the street and waded in the water on the private beach, collected a few seashells, and reapplied sunblock twice—thank goodness there was a manual for how to take care of a two-year old’s basic needs. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one for how to mend her heart. At least he assumed it was broken—the story of his ex-wife’s negligence and her untimely death, certainly broke his. It wasn’t that he’d still loved Tina or felt any affection for her, but she’d kept him from his daughter and made a series of decisions that were devastating.
He’d hired a nanny as they made the adjustment as a family, but Ford wasn’t sure what his next steps were. He figured having help would be temporary because he wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as he could—to make up for lost time; time he could never get back; time that was taken from him. His heart was broken for his daughter but hardened to his ex. After seeing Eisley it had started beating faster.
With her sudden appearance in his life, he had more to figure out and naptime was all he had at the moment. His phone beeped in his pocket. He tapped in his password. It was a message from the lawyer. He’d get to it later.
When he’d placed the phone in Eisley’s hand the evening before, he expected her to declare that she didn’t know the password. Then he’d tell her and maybe that would soften the tension between them. He wanted the gesture to say what he couldn’t put into words. That rarely a day passed when he didn’t think about her. That he was sorry for ditching her, for hurting her, and for confusing her. That he wanted to be friends again. That he’d never stopped being friends with her—at least in his mind, but it was what was in his heart that was the difficult thing that he couldn’t put into words.
Marrying Tina had been a mistake, a rash decision after the war, an attempt to capture what he wanted most: a family, stability, a home to return to. She’d given him a headache, heartache, and a solid need to question his judgment. He thought he was doing the right thing; it turned out his ability to do the right thing had been compromised when he’d left Eisley and never responded to her. He was a God-fearing man, but if there was such a thing as fate, perhaps there was karma too and Tina leaving him was payback for ditching Eisley.
However, Tina had also given him a daughter who he adored—even though that had been a complete surprise. In a strange way, life had a way of working out when he stopped fighting against it.
He tapped Eisley’s name in his phone. It rang and rang. Her message was short. “It’s Eisley. Leave a message.”
“Hey, Eyes. It’s Ford. Not sure if you’re working or busy, but I’ll be at the beach next to Coconut Cove Café in an hour and a half if you’d like to meet up and talk.” The words came out a jumble, as though he’d forgotten how to speak properly—or at least speak to her. Perhaps it was so much time spent with a two-year-old.
Ford slathered on more sunscreen, moving carefully around the scar. It had healed well, but from time to time the bone beneath still felt bruised. He was already tan from years spent outside doing drills, training, and fighting, but he’d recently seen some old timers around Blue Bay Beach and took to heeding his doctor’s warning about using sunscreen. He was new to listening to others, well, aside from those in command, but he was doing his best and would certainly listen to Eisley because no doubt she had a lot to say.
Back at the mansion, he and Coco had a snack, some water, and then he settled her in for a nap before the nanny arrived. When she did, he informed her he’d be out for a few hours.
The garage of the mansion housed a Jaguar, a Maserati, and a Bentley—all courtesy of his benefactor. He was considering getting a minivan to replace his Jeep, but the beach next to Coconut Cove wasn’t far and the town wasn’t welcoming of cars so he went on foot. Plus, the walk would give him a chance to figure out how to explain things to Eisley.
Instead of cooperating, his mind crossed out all his ideas and then scribbled over them like a toddler with a crayon. His thoughts repeatedly drew back to Eisley. Big honey brown eyes, bee-stung lips, apple cheekbones that lifted when she smiled. His stomach growled.
He stopped at the Coconut Cove Café. Eisley wasn’t there—she must’ve had a later shift that day. He ordered a sandwich to go and then plunked himself down in the sand on the beach. The tide was moving in, but the waves were lazy and at odds with how he felt: jumpy, ready to take action, do something with purpose. It was hard retiring from the military. It had been his life. Now, he was adjusting to the new one that had been thrown at him from left field.
His counselor’s voice threaded through his thoughts, reminding him that his new role as a father held great purpose and that he was in an adjustment period.
At the same time, he heard his name. “Hey, Ford, is that you?” It wasn’t Eisley, but a woman he’d met when at the market. Being a single father was lady-bait or perhaps it was the sizable house he’d moved into. He’d hooked at least three in the week he’d been in town. Not that he was interested. Not at all. They chatted for a minute then a long shadow crossed the sand.
“You’re here,” Ford breathed, accidentally interrupting the woman who was letting him know she’d love to have him over for dinner later that day and that she was single and that she loved kids. Apparently, she made a delicious shrimp salad.
In case she hadn’t noticed, he’d need to eat a bit more than a shrimp salad.
The woman rocked back on her heel
s and glanced at Eisley as Ford brushed past.
He couldn’t hide his smile, directed at Eisley, looking like pure summertime ease, wearing a sundress—she was the person he wanted to hear laugh again. No, he wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to see her smile at something he said or did. She was the person he wanted to be friends with again.
“Nice seeing you—” He nodded to the woman who’d approached him because he was a gentleman despite his usual gruff manner.
The woman tilted her head in a coy smile. “Well, the invitation stands. I’m on Egret Ave.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave and sauntered off.
Eisley stood there a moment. The light breeze off the water ruffled the hem of her dress. Her legs were long and she dug her toes into the sand.
Ford sat back down and patted the spot next to him. “I got you some fries.”
“My mother said I’m too thin and won’t stop feeding me. I see you’re trying to plump me up too.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. He hoped it was the beginning of forgiveness.
“I didn’t know Mrs. Higgins was here too.”
“Small world, huh? What are the chances?”
“Let’s just hope Mr. Knuckles isn’t here or the rest of the block,” Ford said.
At that, Eisley smiled, just barely holding back laughter.
Ford warmed all over.
“I forgot about Mr. Knuckmeyer,” Eisley said.
“Mr. Knuckles because he always threated to give us—”
“A knuckle sandwich,” they said at the same time around hearty laughter.
“Remember Agatha Brusch? Marty Cirillo, and Donna Picardi?”
“They had it in for us.”
For a moment they reminisced about some of their exploits and adventures in the New Jersey neighborhood they grew up in.
“We were little scamps.”
“They used other names for us,” Eisley said in a low voice.
“Ones only my brothers would dare repeat.”
“How are they doing?” Eisley asked.
“Sonny is in jail and Alex is a divorced father of three.”