by Jenny Hale
“I’m sorry,” she said, her breath shallow, feeling like the world was crashing down around her.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said.
Hallie stood up. “There’s nothing to figure out at all. You deserve to have a family if you want one.” She faced the gulf, the turquoise water doing nothing to calm her.
“We can talk about this later,” he said.
“No. This is done.” She waggled her finger between them. “I love you, Ben. You’re my best friend. But that’s all we can be.”
For the first time in her life, Ben looked vulnerable. She’d hurt him. But if they became anything more than friends, even greater pain would be inevitable. Best to get the disappointment out of the way before anything began. She was saving them both a lot of heartache and regret.
“I’m going into town to see Gavin,” she said, attempting to get herself together. “He said he has something to tell me.” Before she turned away, she said, “Please think it through properly before you talk to Ashley again. She’s really great.”
Ben didn’t look at her. He just sat, stunned, shaking his head, and she wondered if he believed her. He had to. It was as simple as that.
TWENTY-SIX
Hallie pushed the gallery door open and stepped into the icy air-conditioned entryway. Gavin was talking to a couple about one of his paintings when he waved to her, and motioned for her to give him just a minute to finish up with the customers. She wandered over to the room that held her photography, and immediately noticed three blank spots where her pictures had been. It looked like Gavin might have sold another one.
“Hi there!” Gavin said, walking in like a ray of sunshine.
“Did you sell my lighthouse door photo?”
His smile widened. “Yep.”
“Oh my goodness! That’s three!”
“Well, I have better news than that.”
“What is it?”
Another few people walked past them, telling Gavin goodbye as they headed out. The bells on the door jingled to signal their exit.
“There’s this new magazine called Southern Rush—have you heard of it?”
She had. It was the latest up-and-coming national home decorating publication. Aunt Clara had bought a subscription to it last year. Even through her struggles, she wanted to be on the cutting edge of her profession. She’d told Hallie that this magazine was so good because she thought it was right on the cusp of the next big thing in design. “I know it,” she’d said.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I spoke to an editor for the magazine—she’d done an article about me so I had her contact information. I told her you were a photographer but also a designer, preparing for the launch of your Coastal Comfort brand, and I emailed her your photographs and the furniture you found to go with them. She loved the sort of one-stop-southern-shop concept you’ve created, and she wants to do a piece on you for their December issue.”
Hallie gasped. “You’re kidding.” She couldn’t believe it. And then a warm rush of happiness filled her. Gavin had called her a “designer.” Until that moment, there had only been one designer in the family. Could there really be design in Hallie’s future? She tried the title on in her mind. Designer. Could she eventually move past her Coastal Comfort series and do more? Aunt Clara had an eye for art, and she could choose beautiful pieces for her clients, but Hallie planned to build on Aunt Clara’s design strategy, commissioning entire lines of furniture to go along with her art. Instead of just designing a room for a client, she could give them a one-of-a-kind ensemble that she’d created using the client’s specific tastes and ideas. She could fill their room with photographs of the client’s family and items they treasured, match furniture colors to the colors of their lives that were displayed on the wall…
“She’d like to give you a call, just for an interview.”
“Of course.”
This new identity Hallie pondered was thrilling but terrifying all at the same time. She knew her plans were bigger than any of her projects at the agency. She’d done full-scale advertising displays at major venues, but that was nothing compared to running an ongoing business like she was thinking about. Aunt Clara’s were big shoes to fill, if Hallie were going to survive in the home design world. She had the Flynn family name, so once people knew who she was they would undoubtedly compare her to Aunt Clara. Was she ready for that type of scrutiny? And even if she were, she’d need funds to build her business. Her ideas were grand already and she felt like she’d barely scratched the surface. Aunt Clara had started small, but Hallie’s initial ideas would require more money than she had. She didn’t even know if she was going to get an inheritance, but if she did, would it be enough to get something this big off the ground? Hallie felt the overwhelming need to use the platform of Southern Rush to bring her ideas to life, but the timing wasn’t good. Her business was still in its infancy.
Despite her concerns, she could hear her aunt’s dreamlike voice: Don’t ever be afraid of anything. Just jump in…
It seemed too vast to get her head around, but she struggled to think of it in smaller terms. The notion of it felt so natural to Hallie that she couldn’t go back to just photography. It didn’t feel whole to her anymore without the other pieces of the design process. But she’d have so much to learn. Hallie couldn’t possibly be a designer… Could she?
“I was wondering if you wanted to go into town and take a few shots. You brought your camera, right?” Gavin said, interrupting her inner deliberations.
“I did bring it,” she said, feeling an overwhelming need to get started and create. She wanted to turn her Coastal Comfort series into a Coastal Comfort line, with all the décor options anyone could possibly want. While she had no idea how she’d manage it, the only way to find out was to get started. “I’d love to.” She’d found that the world seemed nearly perfect through the lens of her camera. And right now she wanted to shut out all the things she had on her mind and focus on her Coastal Comfort line, starting with the photography.
“Hop in the truck,” he said with a conspirator’s grin. Hallie understood it perfectly. There was no one else who knew what it felt like to be under the spell of a camera, other than Gavin. She jumped in.
He pulled out of the drive and headed toward Firefly Beach. The empty road stretched before them, a single gray slip of surface hugging the coast. Hallie’s window was down, her elbow propped up on the opening, the wind pushing against her face as she took in colors and textures, storing them away for later.
“Where are we headed?” she asked, wondering what he’d meant by “town.” Would she find a line of white picket fences or a shop door covered in seashells? Or would they go to the public beach? She imagined tiny feet in the sand, seagulls perched on buoys…
“I’d planned this a while ago and I was going to go by myself, but then I thought of you, and it occurred to me that I don’t have to do things alone anymore when I have friends in the area.” He looked over at Hallie, happy. “I’ve scheduled a charter. There’s a boat docked off the public landing with our names on it. Wanna take a quick boat ride?”
“Oh, I’d love to!”
“We’re going to an island off the coast. It’s full of sea life and panoramic views. I’ve been there twice before on my own, but it would be nice to have another photographer’s perspective. We could get some really great shots.”
When Hallie had first met Gavin, she’d been intimidated by his talent, yet here he was treating her like an equal in his profession. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have a family or find that perfect person, but this she was sure about. Aunt Clara had seen it way before Hallie had, and now it was so clear. Perhaps it was because she and Aunt Clara were so similar. And just like her aunt, Hallie found happiness in this work. She just hoped that she, too, would find it enough to fulfill her completely. Maybe one day she wouldn’t think about the family she’d never have; maybe she would stop feeling the void at some point. She wondered if Aunt Clara ever felt like she’d mi
ssed out by not having children. Had her work been enough? In Hallie’s case, it would have to be.
She wasn’t sure how to make it all happen, but she knew that there was no way she could go back to her old job now and be happy. Perhaps she should live off her savings for a while like Sydney was doing. The only problem was that she didn’t have enough, and if Aunt Clara had left her an inheritance, she couldn’t access it until she’d completed the list. How would she ever finish it?
Gavin parked the truck and grabbed his camera from behind the seat. Hallie got out and immediately lined up a shot. Bobbing in the water was a gleaming white sport cruiser. She shielded her view with her hand to temper the champagne sunlight that glistened off the waves and the boat’s silver surfaces. Hallie twisted her lens, lining up the water in balance with the sky, the boat just off center, like a pearl against the indigo horizon. She snapped a photo just as two seagulls soared together overhead, their shadows like perfect arches.
“I can’t even get you onto the boat,” Gavin said with a laugh.
He hopped aboard and held out his hand to guide her. She stepped onto the dock and then over the side of the boat, hanging on to Gavin for support as her weight rocked the vessel slightly.
“That’s why I enjoy being with you,” he said. “I find your enthusiasm inspiring. You see everything as if it were a shot. How have you not become a photographer before now?” He shook his head.
“I suppose I just needed to meet the right person to get me started,” she said, making him smile.
Gavin tossed her a life vest and cranked the engine. The gulf waves sloshed against the side of the boat, and a gust of wind blew Hallie’s hair behind her shoulders as he backed it away from the dock. Hallie sat on the vinyl cushion at the back and faced the sun. She tilted her head up to feel its warmth on her skin along with the spray of the sea as the boat picked up speed, the engine purring under her. With nothing but a vast sea ahead and a horizon as shiny as a sapphire, it was easy to forget what troubled her. Even if she tried, the thoughts got hung up on their way into her mind as they attempted to filter through the summer heat, the earthy scent of the hissing ocean waves, and the coastal breeze pushing her against the seat of the boat. Hallie took in a big gulp of air, letting it saturate her with summertime. These were the smells and sounds of her childhood, and every wonderful memory she had was wrapped up in this atmosphere.
Gavin pointed off toward their left at a small island floating in the midst of the enormous gulf, the lush green of its center contrasting with the white sand beaches that lined its edge. Hallie held on to the boat handle to keep herself steady as Gavin changed directions and headed toward it. As they got closer, Hallie braced herself against the back of the seat and snapped a shot. She cupped her hands over the screen in an attempt to view it, but all she could see was the meandering coastline snaking along the bottom of the picture. It looked like it could be a keeper though, by the shape of the shore and its positioning. She couldn’t wait to see it once they got back to Gavin’s.
They dropped anchor after Gavin pulled the nose of the boat onto the beach, bringing them to a soft slide of a stop. With every breath, she felt more like herself in the coastal rhythm of sea and wind, her camera strap around her neck, the mass of thick metal in her hands. The feel of the focus under her fingers was what she imagined the keys to feel like for Uncle Hank when he played piano: natural and fluent. Hallie zeroed in on a starfish that was half buried in the powdery white sand, waiting to get her shot until a bundle of dried kelp floated by.
Gavin walked up next to her, his camera at his face, shooting one of the palm trees. “It’s exquisite here, isn’t it?” he said, lowering his camera. He let it hang around his neck and walked over to the water, stepping into it with his bare feet and dipping his hand in. He scooped up a sand dollar. “Look at this beautiful creature.”
Hallie ran her finger over the five-point star in its center, having never seen one this deep brown color, only to jump back when the spines started to move around the edge of it.
“It’s still alive,” Gavin said. “Did you know that you aren’t supposed to keep it if it’s alive?” He set it back in the water and took a photo of it through the clear surf. “They turn white once they die, when the sun bleaches them. I find them oddly comforting because their beauty comes in death.” He looked back down at it. “I like to think that there’s some good in death, some cosmic purpose in it.”
“I think there is,” Hallie said. “I feel my Aunt Clara everywhere. I think they’re still with us, just no longer among us.”
“I battle with that idea, because if Gwen is with me then it’s difficult to move on.”
“But I think she’d want you to. You can’t stop your life forever because hers was cut short. That would be two tragedies.”
“I had this idea to move down here where no one knew me, find a purpose that could make the days more bearable, and then settle into that life until it started to feel normal. Eventually maybe I could even learn to love again.” He walked out of the water onto the sand and sat down. Hallie plopped down next to him. “I rebuilt the house because that was always our plan, and if I didn’t just continue on, I’d fall apart. Then I decided to move into it, to leave my job and see where life took me, all the while forcing myself to move forward. But sometimes I still falter.”
“That’s understandable. It’s hard to lose someone like that.”
“I’m so glad for your friendship. You make me feel like I’m not crazy, like there’s more ahead for me.”
“Ditto,” she said, holding up her camera.
That made him smile.
* * *
When Hallie pulled up, Ben was throwing a ball to Beau in the driveway. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, with an intensity to his words, as she got out of the car. He chucked the ball across the yard and Beau ran to retrieve it. “We need to talk.”
Hallie shut the car door and stepped up beside him as he led the way to the guesthouse. Something was different about him, but she couldn’t decide what it was, and that made her uneasy. She’d always recognized his emotions the instant he had them, but this was something dissimilar to his usual demeanor.
Ben opened the door and let her go in first. Beau caught up and trotted behind them, dropping the ball at Ben’s feet and lapping up his water from the bowl by the kitchen island.
“Why didn’t you feel like you could talk to me?” he asked, his eyes so penetrating that she had to sit down on the sofa. He joined her.
“About what?” she asked, already fearful of what he’d found out. The shame and guilt she felt for losing the baby rushed back in. It didn’t make sense to feel blame—her therapist had tried to tell her that, and they’d had lengthy conversations about visualizing different feelings in relation to this—but her feeling of brokenness always surfaced, and with it came shame.
“Sydney told me what happened. With your pregnancy.”
Now she felt betrayed. It was her story to tell. “How dare she tell you,” Hallie started, but Ben cut her off.
“No. Don’t misplace your anger on Sydney. She told me because I confided in her. I fell apart on her. I told her that I don’t know how to live without you and it’s killing me.” He ran his hands across his face, making it red. “I pleaded with her to help me understand you because I didn’t all of a sudden. You weren’t making any sense. You’ve always wanted to get married and have a family, and one loser of a guy wouldn’t change that inside you. You’re the most optimistic person I know. And you’d bounce back from that. I needed answers and I pressed her for them.”
“So now you see,” Hallie said quietly, tears surfacing.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you couldn’t have children? That’s way down the line. And when we did have to face it, we could figure it out together.”
“I don’t want you to have to figure it out. I saw the disappointment in your eyes when I said I wasn’t going to have a family, Ben,” she said.
> “My disappointment was that I thought I knew you better than anyone and I’d misread something. I was disappointed in myself for not catching it. But the more I thought about it, the more I believed there was something else going on because I do know you, Hallie. I know you better than I know myself.” He reached over and wiped her tear. “You never disappoint me.”
“You say that now, but years down the road, if we’re together, I don’t want you to have regrets. You’ve told me before that you want a family—your own children, a little boy who looks like you.” She brushed another tear away. “You’ve said it since we were kids. And I can’t give that to you. We’re at an impasse because I won’t let you settle for less than what you ought to have.”
“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll stop trying,” he demanded. “Tell me that you wouldn’t like to wake up next to each other every morning, to spend the rest of our lives together, to know that no matter what our day was like, we would always come home to one another. Tell me, Hallie.”
Hallie couldn’t lie to him. She could never say she didn’t love him or want those things because that wasn’t true. Her vision blurred with her tears.
“Why can’t we just take it day by day? Do we have to have our whole lives planned out?”
She took in a calming breath. “No, we don’t. But every time I look at you, I’ll be reminded of what I know you want and what I can’t give you. And I don’t want to live like that because the guilt would ruin me. It’s not healthy. If I’m ever going to get over this, I have to move forward with no ties to the past.”
Hallie had never seen such unhappiness in Ben’s face before. And nothing had made her heart ache like his sorrow did right then, because she knew that kind of sadness. He felt loss. Just like she’d felt when she lost the baby, and when she’d lost Aunt Clara. She could see it in his eyes. And she couldn’t do anything about it. She needed a reprieve before she completely broke down.