Sandcastle Beach--Includes a Bonus Novella

by Jenny Holiday

  “It’ll be fine,” Benjamin said.

  “Not cold water. Cool,” Nora said, ignoring him. “And no ice. Get yourself a basin of cool water and sit down for a bit and immerse your hand in it.”

  “I got this covered.” Eve stepped behind the bar. Benjamin rolled his eyes—he didn’t like being fussed over—but he went, holding the door for Maya with his unburned hand.

  She paused. She hadn’t intended to hang around after the sandcastles. Rehearsals started tomorrow, and she’d been planning to hole up in her room at the Mermaid and work on her first-day-of-rehearsal, everything-is-normal-even-though-we-have-a-huge-celebrity-among-us speech.

  Benjamin made an impatient are-you-or-aren’t-you gesture as he held the door. Screw it. A glass of wine would be good. She missed the bar. She hadn’t been able to stop in as much recently, given the work she’d been doing getting her apartment ready for Holden.

  “Hi, Mr. Lawson,” she said to Benjamin’s dad, who was behind the bar. Benjamin himself headed back to the tiny kitchen.

  “Hi, Maya. Lots of talk about your movie star.”

  “Ha ha, yes! His being here is very exciting!” Hopefully it would also be lucrative.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a glass of the Riesling.”

  She noticed as he uncorked it that it wasn’t the same one she usually drank. “Oh, not that one, if you don’t mind. The other one.” Was this why Benjamin had been jawing about it being in some refrigerator or other?

  Mr. Lawson peered at the bottle, which looked different from the kind Benjamin usually poured from. “I don’t think there is another one.” Well, she didn’t want to be a jerk, so she said, “I must be confused. That one is great, thanks.”

  The living room effect of the bar, of feeling at home and like she belonged, was not as strong as it usually was. Probably because the bar wasn’t very crowded. Everyone was outside for raspberry festivities and fancy sandwiches, so there was no one nearby she could chat with.

  Benjamin reappeared with a bowl of water and came to sit next to her. She suddenly felt a little more comfortable. Probably because she was used to his being here. For better or worse, he was part of the background of her living room away from home.

  “What happened?” his dad said.

  “Burned my hand. Doc Walsh is out there and isn’t going to let me come back out until I’ve soaked it for a while.”

  Mr. Lawson nodded and moved to the other end of the bar to serve a customer. Maya and Benjamin sat in silence for a long moment until he said, “FYI, I’m working on getting Sadie Saunders elected mermaid queen.”

  Sadie? That was not what Maya’d had in mind when she’d ordered him to cease and desist. “Have you…seen a lot of Sadie recently?” As far as she knew, Sadie and Benjamin had not been a thing since way back in the day. Since they had ruined her life. Temporarily.

  Okay, that was a bit much, even for a championship grudge-holder such as herself. Really, she should thank them. They were responsible for her current work ethic. For the mental policies-and-procedures manual that had made it so she’d never had to cancel a play again. And never would.

  “I haven’t seen much of Sadie lately,” Law said, “but I tried to think about who might make a good queen, and she came to mind.”

  Sadie did not have good tiara hair. With her short and curly hair, she was going to look like Little Orphan Annie playing dress-up. Also, her acting skills had never been that good—Maya wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking with casting her that one time. But the point was, Sadie wasn’t going to be able to inhabit the role of the mermaid queen the way that was required to really sell it.

  Also, Maya had just gotten custody of the trident last parade. The old folks might try to give it back to the king. Benjamin made a face suddenly. He seemed to be looking at something behind her. She turned.

  Holden pulled out the stool next to her. “Hey.”

  She was sitting next to Holden Hampshire at her local bar. Surreal. She shot him a smile. “I’m excited for tomorrow.”

  “What’s tomorrow?” Benjamin asked.

  “First day of rehearsals for Much Ado,” she said.

  “About that,” Holden said. “Is there any way we could start a little later? I mean, eight a.m.…” He scrunched his nose.

  “Oh! Ha! Well, our actors playing Hero and Claudio are in high school, right, because I’m using their storyline to make a point about online bullying? And Claudio is doing summer school this week, which is in the afternoons, so we need to be wrapped up by one, hence the early start.” It was actually stressing her out. Her Hero was a star in the making, but the boy she’d cast as Claudio she was less sure about.

  Maybe the whole high school angle had been a mistake. But she really had thought the social media theme was a good one.

  Also, Holden had blown her budget, and high schoolers came cheap.

  “High school.” Holden’s tone was blank, but somehow she detected a note of snobbery. Which was good! Very Benedick!

  “Yes, well, we all started somewhere, right?” she said, taking a sip of the wrong Riesling.

  “Maya was directing when she was in high school,” said Benjamin, who she’d completely forgotten about. Almost forgotten about. To be fair, it was hard to really forget about Benjamin on account of his looming presence and his constant grumbling. Also maybe his moss-green eyes that saw everything.

  “Were you an actor when you were in high school?” Benjamin asked Holden.

  “No,” Holden said. “I was a musician in high school. And then I quit a year early when my professional career took off.”

  “Did you do anything I’d know?” Benjamin inquired mildly.

  “I was in Two Squared.”

  Benjamin scrunched his forehead. “Hmm. Don’t know them. You, I guess. Don’t know you.” That was a lie. She herself had told Benjamin about Holden’s past. Benjamin lifted his hand from the water bowl, shook it out, and extended it across Maya’s space to Holden. “Ben Lawson. I own this place.”

  I own this place. He said it like he was talking about more than the bar. The territorialism in his tone made it sound like he was talking about the whole town.

  “Holden Hampshire,” came the reply after a beat, though Holden ignored the damp hand. He waited another beat, pushed back his chair, and said, “I gotta jet. See you tomorrow, Maya?”

  “At eight,” Benjamin said.

  Ignoring Benjamin, Holden winked at her. “I’ll do my best.”

  She smiled and waved, and when he was safely out of earshot, she turned to Benjamin, preparing to interrogate him about what that little pissing contest had been about, but he spoke first. “What a dick.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “He has to rehearse for five hours a day in a beach town in the summer, and he can’t be bothered to get out of bed in the mornings?”

  “He’s an artist. He’s sensitive. He’s probably an insomniac.”

  “You’re an artist, and you work all the time.”

  “So do you.”

  She had no idea why they were arguing. Or even what they were arguing about. Who worked more? Who worked less? She wasn’t even sure whether working more or working less represented the moral high ground here and therefore the winning argument.

  “What happened to the Keith’s tap?” Mr. Lawson asked Benjamin as he came back over.

  “I swapped in KLB Raspberry Wheat for the festival,” Benjamin said. “I’ll bring it back when the KLB is gone.”

  “I’m surprised you chose the Keith’s, though. I don’t think we’ve ever not had Keith’s on tap, even in your grandpa’s time.”

  Hooboy. Maya didn’t think Mr. Lawson meant anything by his comment, but she could see what Law meant about the whole legacy thing.

  Mr. Lawson moved down the bar to serve a customer who had just arrived, and Maya noticed the new sandcastle trophy sitting behind the bar, next to the ones Benjamin had won in previous years. She pointed at it
. “I guess congratulations are in order. Bitter congratulations. I have to say, you deserved to win this year.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, and to her surprise she meant it.

  Chapter Eleven

  The weather was perfect for a boat ride. Warm and clear and not too breezy. Law finished shuttling the life jackets off the boat and laid them on the hood of his car. Usually he had people put them on in the boat, but with the geriatric crowd, he planned to get them outfitted first.

  His phone rang. Eiko.

  “Law, hon, there’s been a bit of a mix-up.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The Whispering Pines crew isn’t coming.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Truth be told, he was a little annoyed. Not only had he left Carter alone at the bar, he had really been looking forward to getting out on the lake.

  And he wasn’t even minding the prospect of listening to Maya give a lecture.

  “The bus was double-booked. There was a long-scheduled trip to the casino in Rodham that no one told me about.” Law had a view of the parking lot from his slip, and he turned when he heard a car pulling in. It was Maya’s ancient rust bucket. “I was going to shuttle people over myself,” Eiko said, “but it turns out everyone went to the casino. I guess gambling wins out over theater. Sorry!”

  He watched Maya get out of the car. And then lean back in and rummage around in the back seat. The way she was leaning made it impossible not to, well, look at her ass. Which was encased in a pair of denim shorts. Short shorts. And instead of her usual sneakers, she was wearing flip-flops—a historic day. Well, at least he had nothing on hand with which to burn himself as he’d done last time he’d seen her.

  “Well, okay,” he said to Eiko. “I’ll head back into town.”

  “Listen, I wasn’t able to reach Maya, but I think the two of you should still go. I, well…” Eiko was acting oddly. She wasn’t the type to hesitate over speaking her mind. “I’m not sure if I should…”

  “What?”

  Maya emerged from her car with a bag slung over her shoulder and started across the parking lot.

  “I shouldn’t say anything,” Eiko said.

  “Yes you should.”

  “Well, I ran into Maya this morning, and…” She lowered her voice. “She told me how much she was looking forward to seeing you.”

  “She did?” Maya spotted him and froze in place, halting her progress across the lot. She scowled. “You must have heard wrong.”

  “No, I don’t think so! I think…”

  “What?” He was starting to feel a little unnerved. Eiko was being vague, and Maya was looking at him like she wanted to murder him. “You think what?”

  “Nope, I’ve said enough! You kids enjoy the lake—and each other’s company. You’re already out there! It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day!” She hung up.

  “Hi,” he said warily as Maya resumed her approach. Her hair was in a long braid down her back. He’d never seen it like that before.

  “Hi.” She jammed a big, floppy sunhat on her head. That probably explained why she didn’t have her hair in its usual topknot—it wouldn’t fit under the hat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean what’s wrong?”

  “You looked like you were sucking on a lemon just now.”

  “Well, Benjamin, maybe that’s just my natural face.”

  Right. It was her natural face when she was looking at him, anyway. He just hadn’t seen it for a while, had been lulled into complacency by the recent thaw between them. “I just got off the phone with Eiko,” he said. “There was some kind of mix-up. The Whispering Pines people aren’t coming.”

  “I heard.”

  “You did?” Eiko had said she couldn’t reach Maya. But okay.

  “I ran into Pearl on my way out of town.”

  Right. So she’d run into Pearl, but she’d come anyway. Was there any way to interpret that other than that it meant she still wanted to go out on the boat?

  With him?

  Dear God. Had Eiko been right? Was Maya here because she wanted to spend time with him? Just him? He started to sweat. “You, uh, want to go for a quick spin anyway? Since we’re here?”

  A pickup truck vroomed up, taking the turn into the lot too fast.

  “I was hoping you’d say that, because I invited Holden Hampshire.”

  If there was anyone who didn’t need a pickup, it was a city-dwelling actor. Honestly. Holden jumped out, and he was wearing the most obnoxious pair of board shorts. They were tight, white, and long—they came to below his knees. He was shirtless, and his feet were stuffed into a pair of slides that said “Givenchy.” He looked like a North Toronto kid dressing up like a California surfer—which was actually exactly what he was. Or, no, a North Toronto kid dressing up like a California surfer playing at being a cowboy in that ridiculous truck.

  “I’m trying, to, like, show him a good time,” Maya whispered, leaning in so much that he caught a whiff of that botanical-sugar scent. “But I have to say, he is trying my patience.”

  “Okay,” he said, though he was a little surprised at how much he did not want to take Holden Hampshire on a boat ride. But also, maybe Maya’s murderous scowl of a moment ago hadn’t been intended for him? That would be a twist.

  Another car pulled up, and Rohan got out.

  “Oh, and I invited my brother, too,” she said. She shrugged. “I figured we had a lot of extra capacity.”

  Law didn’t mind Rohan’s joining them. And Rohan was dressed like a normal person in shorts, a plain T-shirt, and Birkenstocks.

  But so much for Eiko’s crackpot theory that Maya had been looking forward to seeing him. She’d brought an army of other men.

  Well, just men. No other. Other implied…whatever was the opposite of other. One. Singular. Exclusive. None of those words applied. “No problem,” he said.

  Maya made introductions, and they were off, Maya and Holden talking about something up front while Law chatted with Rohan. As they approached the lift bridge, Maya twisted and said to Rohan, “There have been a few sightings of Pearl in there, even though she swears she has no interest in Dennis Bates.” She turned to Holden. “Have you met Pearl from Pie with Pearl? She’s an avid internet dater. But we all think she has a secret affair going on with the guy who runs the lift bridge, even though she swears she doesn’t.”

  “Cute,” Holden said noncommittally as he looked at his phone.

  The bridge was up, so they cruised out into the lake, and Law could feel himself relaxing, and that, in turn, made him realize how not-relaxed he had been for so long. The stress of the restaurant situation had really been getting to him.

  “Too bad I wasted my time preparing a theater talk for the old folks,” Maya said.

  “Hit us with it anyway,” Law suggested. To his great surprise, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

  “Yeah,” said Rohan. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Nah, you guys don’t want to listen to me.”

  “I think it might be good for my characterization to hear your thoughts on Benedick,” Holden said.

  “But you heard my thoughts on Benedick all day,” Maya said. “First day of rehearsal,” she explained to Law and Rohan, “so I talked a lot. But okay.” She launched into a very entertaining talk on the play, explaining what she thought some of the enduring themes were and how its message of bullying and cancel culture resonated today.

  “And,” she added when she was done, “it has a great song in it. Often the songs in Shakespearean plays get cut or glossed over.” She turned to Holden. “But usually you don’t have a musical genius in the cast.”

  Holden, without warning, broke into song. Something about sighing ladies? Holden was a good singer, but it turned out that having an ex-boy-band member sing you a song from Much Ado about Nothing acapella was a little awkward.

  When he finished, they all clapped. Well, Maya and Rohan clapped. Law mo
ved his hands back and forth like he was clapping, but he stopped short of letting them actually touch, because no way was he going to applaud this dude.

  After an enjoyable couple hours touring around—well, Law had enjoyed himself, and it seemed the Mehta siblings had, too, but Holden had spent most of the time looking at his phone—they were back in the marina.

  Rohan and Holden drove off, and Law waved off Maya’s attempt to help him stow the life jackets under the boat’s seats. “I can handle this.”

  “Nah, let me help. I appreciate your doing this even though we lost our audience.”

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

  She looked up, confused. “I don’t know?”

  “Did you say you appreciated something about me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “One thing. I appreciated one thing about you. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  He let her help him cover the boat and walked her to her car—which didn’t start. He wasn’t particularly surprised, given the way it had wheezed into the parking lot to begin with.

  She made a little mew of dismay and let her head fall on the top of the steering wheel before straightening and trying again. No luck. Nothing but a not-promising clicking noise. “Noooo,” she moaned. “I do not need this right now.”

  “I can drop you back in town.”

  She dragged herself to the passenger seat of his car like she was a teenager being marched to detention.

  “You want me to take you to Jordan’s?” he asked. “You can ride back out on the tow truck with him?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re going to leave the car dead in the marina?”

  “For now. It needs a new battery. It dies all the time. Last time Jordan looked at it, he told me I was living on borrowed time. In fact, no, he told me that the Pontiac Bonneville was such a terrible car that it helped kill Pontiac as a company.” She laughed, but it turned into a mock sob. “I’m going to get Jake to come out and try to jump it.” Law eyed her. Her dismay seemed over the top for a dead battery. “But that will have to be tomorrow,” she added, “because he and Nora are at a midwife appointment in Grand View.” She sighed in a way that seemed more wistful than her previous car-related sighs had been. “Just take me back to the Mermaid. I’m starving.”