Picking Up the Pieces

by Maryann Jordan

  Beginning to rethink her anger, she sighed heavily. “Now, I don’t know what to think.” She noticed Jillian had grown quiet and, turning toward her, she cocked her head.

  Jillian bit her lip as her fingers twisted the napkin on the table in front of her. “I just thought of something,” she said, looking at her. “I know he searches for sea glass too—”

  “Well, big deal,” she huffed, trying to hang on to her irritation, curiosity getting the better of her. “Sorry, Jillian. What does the sea glass have to do with him berating me?”

  Jillian stood and walked over to one of the pieces of local art she displayed in her galleria, an exquisite mobile created from sea glass. “This...” Jillian said, touching the piece reverently, “is Lance’s work. He creates these.”

  She eyed the breathtaking artwork, her heart beating erratically in her chest. “Oh,” she whispered, feeling foolish that she had never learned the identity of the creator of the beautiful sea glass works of art. “Well, damn, now I feel bad.”

  “Don’t,” Katelyn declared. “Honey, first of all, he was lying through his teeth when he told you that he owned the beach. And to do it in a way that embarrassed you and made you feel bad…well, that’s just downright mean.”

  Suddenly Belle jumped up and threw her arms around her, saying, “Oh! I have to get to the nursing home, but sweetie, don’t let him upset you. You should walk wherever you want!”

  She returned Belle’s hug and, standing, smiled down at the others. “You guys are the best. I’m exhausted and since it’s Saturday, I’m heading home to spend the day relaxing.”

  Tori hustled over and placed her hands on her shoulders, peering into her eyes. “Are you okay? I promise Mitch’ll talk to him.”

  “Oh, he shouldn’t bother,” she replied. “I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. And honestly, now that I think about all y’all have told me, there’s no battle to fight. He was wrong to lie to me, but I’ll just avoid that part of the beach in the future.”

  After hugs all around, she headed out to her car, sliding her sunglasses down as she turned her face toward the sun, allowing the rays to warm her heart. Realizing what good friends she had made actually had her feeling sorry for Lance. The sea glass artwork stayed in her mind as she tried to reconcile the creative talent with the grumpy man she met this morning. He must be awfully lonely to be such an irritable man.

  4

  The sun was already beaming into the studio windows when Lance heard a vehicle pull into his drive, the tires crunching over the crushed oyster shells and sand. Pinching his lips together at the intrusion, he stood, walking to the window, surprised to see Mitch climbing out of the Baytown Police SUV.

  Leaving his studio, he walked toward the kitchen, knowing Mitch would eschew using the front door and come around to the back. Pouring another cup of coffee, he yelled that the door was unlocked and looked up as Mitch walked in.

  Mitch slid his sunglasses off as he entered, his smile landing on him, or rather on the cup of coffee he was holding out toward him.

  “Thanks man. My first cup of the day has already worn off.”

  “Long night?”

  “Accident on the road leaving town early this morning. No one hurt. Old Man Copper pulled his tractor into the lane and a vacationer wasn’t expecting farm equipment on the road. Slammed right into him. Zac was on call as the EMT and Jason got the car towed.”

  Nodding, he walked with his cup to the screened porch, knowing Mitch would follow. The two men settled into the worn, comfortable chairs facing the bay. Quiet for several minutes, they allowed the peace of the view to sink in. Gulls, dipping as they flew, called back and forth to each other. A flock of three black Pelicans glided over the surf. The tide had rolled in, chasing the crabs into their holes.

  He remembered the first time he met Mitch, both serving in Afghanistan in the military police. Different localities, but their paths crossed when he was investigating military thefts of weapons that were being sold on the black market. The two men hit it off immediately. He had also decided to join the Army after high school, and served with the Criminal Investigation Command.

  When Mitch left the military, he joined the FBI as an investigator after college. But it was not until Lance was discharged, then working with the Richland Police, that Mitch reached out and encouraged him to move to Baytown.

  “You’ll love it here…quiet, not expensive, good people. Honest, hardworking people that would give you the shirt off their backs.”

  Mitch was persuasive, or perhaps it was just the call of the bay. One visit was all it took and he packed up and moved. Now, a year later, he still enjoyed the peace, making a few acquaintances at the American Legion. Not friends…just good acquaintances.

  “Awful quiet out here,” Mitch said, appreciating the view.

  “Yep,” he responded.

  “Don’t get many visitors this way.”

  “Nope.”

  “Guess that suits you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yep.”

  Mitch chuckled at the short answers he was receiving, causing Lance to look over at him. Sighing, he said, “You got something you want to say? Or did you just come out here to watch the gulls and drink my coffee? Which, considering your cousin, Jillian, owns a coffee shop, I’m sure you didn’t need to come all this way for.”

  Shaking his head, Mitch turned to him and said, “You always were a straight shooter.” Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he added, “So, why the hell did you tell Jade that you own the beach and she was trespassing?”

  He jerked his head to the side, staring at his friend. “Are you shitting me? She went to the police? I can’t believe—”

  “Whoa, chill,” Mitch interrupted, his gaze now hardened. “First of all, you’re not the injured party here, and second of all, no, she didn’t come to the police.”

  Dropping his chin, he grimaced, knowing he had been a jerk to the woman on the beach. Still, he hated having to explain himself.

  Mitch explained, “She was talking to the girls this morning…she’s friends with Tori and the others.”

  Lance knew exactly who Mitch was referring to—the Baytown Women. Tori, Jillian, and Katelyn. So, if one of them knew, they all knew about the incident.

  “I just happened to stop by the coffee shop to check on Tori—”

  Jerking his head around, he asked, “Is she okay?”

  Smiling, Mitch nodded. “Yeah, she’s good. I just had to leave this morning with the call-out and didn’t get to kiss her good morning.”

  Rolling his eyes, he snorted.

  “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Mitch laughed. “Anyway, Jade was there and really upset. She was embarrassed that she didn’t know this was private property. As you can imagine the others immediately told her that it wasn’t.”

  “Great. Katelyn and Jillian are probably already planning my execution.”

  Throwing his head back, Mitch laughed. “Well, those two take their friendship duties very seriously.”

  “Jesus…” he sighed, now wishing he had left the beauty on the beach alone.

  “Why the hell did you have to scare her?”

  “Scare her? I just told her she was trespassing,” he defended, but knew his words sounded peevish.

  “Jade’s a nice girl. Only been in town for a year…’bout like you. She teaches at the elementary school.”

  Great…Now I’m the big, bad wolf to some little Snow White…or was that Red Riding Hood? Fuck, what’s the matter with me? Irritated, he growled, “Didn’t stop to ask her about her life story…just wanted her to leave.”

  Mitch was quiet, sipping his coffee as his gaze stayed on the ever-changing surf.

  Lance rolled his neck, wincing at the sore muscles from sitting at his design table for so long. He hated defending his actions, even when they did not make sense. Letting out a long breath, he said, “I just like my privacy, that’s all. And she was picking up sea glass. Hell, had a bu
nch in a bucket.”

  “Yeah, I figure Jillian showed her your work since the girls were in the galleria.” Finishing his cup, Mitch stood. “I love this view,” he said. “I like the view from my grandfather’s little cabin, but this is a really nice place you’ve got here.” Looking over at him he added, “Too bad you’re out here all by yourself. When I invited you to come here to live in Baytown I thought you’d enjoy the town a little more.”

  “Don’t gotta surround myself with a bunch of people all the time to enjoy it,” he countered, then hung his head. “Jesus, sorry Mitch. I know I’m an asshole…but I’m an asshole who prefers my own company.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. But I’d like to think that Baytown has something to offer you besides just the chance to hide.”

  “People know where I am, I’d hardly call that hiding.”

  “There’s all kinds of hiding…I think you’re mostly hiding from yourself. But then, I figure you got your reasons.”

  No response was needed so he clamped his lips together, his chest tight.

  “Don’t forget about the American Legion meeting tomorrow night,” Mitch said as he stepped through the door, letting it clang shut behind him, and began walking down the path. “Oh,” he called over his shoulder, “and stop harassing the pretty teachers you come across. After all, she was gathering the sea glass for the kids in her class.”

  He watched Mitch round the corner, heading to his vehicle parked out front. Dropping his head back, he sighed, the face of the teacher—Jade—coming to mind.

  Dark hair blowing from a ball cap perched on her head. A pink tank top and white shorts that revealed more of her figure than he wanted to notice. He had stood on the beach, feet apart with his hands on his hips in a threatening stance hoping she would see him and turn around. But she never looked up. She just kept her head down as she searched the beach. He watched as she rushed to the edge of the water, coming up with a large piece of sea glass before she looked out at the ships and yelled a thank you, dancing around in the surf at the same time.

  Shaking his head at the memory, he had thought she was a young teen until she came closer, her head still down as she searched. Then, it was easy to see she was a woman, and a beautiful woman at that. And she never looked up.

  Not until she ran right into me.

  A slight grin twitched at the corners of his mouth as he remembered her huge eyes as they widened, taking all of him in. An embarrassed blush painted her cheeks as she dropped her bucket.

  That damned, pink, child’s sand bucket.

  Taking the now empty cups back to the kitchen sink, he rinsed them before setting them on the drying rack. He knew Mitch was right—he shouldn’t have scared her. Or lied to her. Or made her embarrassed. That was an asshole move. But damnit, I like my privacy.

  He remembered a time in his past, though now it seemed like centuries ago. Friends. Fun. Drinks with co-workers. Dating. That confident young man was gone. Dead and buried in the hills of Afghanistan.

  Walking back into his studio, he tried to focus on the new design he was creating, but as his gaze landed on the clear, plastic containers dividing and holding the different colors of sea glass, he found himself staring at the green ones. Walking over, he reached down, running his fingers through the green, smooth fragments. The various hues glistened in the sunlight. As he continued to stare at the pieces so resembling jade, they began to taunt him.

  Jade. Fuck, her name is Jade. He remembered those green eyes staring up at him. The color of her name.

  5

  Saturday night, alone in her attic apartment. Baytown did not exactly offer a downtown nightlife, although drinks with friends at Finn’s Pub was always a good choice. Jade loved Finn’s, owned by the three MacFarlane siblings. Katelyn, who only worked part-time, alongside her two brothers, Aiden and Brogan.

  But, tonight, the idea of being alone held appeal. Her day, starting with the run-in with the glowering hulk and meeting with the girls, had been busy with grocery shopping, errands, cleaning her quaint apartment, and preparing new lesson plans.

  Standing at her kitchen counter, she poured a glass of wine before moving through the living room. She loved her home, small as it was, and felt lucky to have snagged it, knowing it would not have stayed on the market very long.

  Tori once said it reminded her of the attic room she had at her grandmother’s Inn, before she moved in with Mitch.

  The elderly owners of the house wanted to rent the attic apartment to a female teacher and she had just stumbled across the ad in the newspaper the day they had it listed. One phone call and one visit later, she was in love and, gratefully, they thought she was a perfect tennant as well.

  The large attic had been divided into a living area separated from the small kitchen by a counter. She easily fit a grey sofa with burgundy throw pillows, a comfy chair, and TV stand with her newly purchased flat screened TV. Scoring a small coffee table and matching end table off Craig’s List rounded out the room. The hardwood floors were the room’s glory and she only covered a small portion of the wooden planks with a deep burgundy rug.

  The single bedroom was through a door off the living room and her well-appointed bathroom, with its gleaming white tile, included a white, claw-footed tub. She had carried the burgundy theme into her bedroom with a Walmart comforter in multi-tones of burgundy, grey, and white. Craig’s List provided her bed frame and matching dresser. There was a window in her bedroom that overlooked the back of the property, including the owner’s flower gardens. With her own private entrance from a staircase that rose from the back of the house, she felt completely free.

  But it was the deck, off the living room through sliding glass doors, that sold her on the place. The small, but sturdy, deck was large enough for two chairs and a little table, and overlooked the bay. The sunsets filled her apartment each evening, casting the room in a golden glow.

  Now, taking her glass of wine there, she sat, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes and let the breeze off the bay flow over her. The distant sounds of people leaving the beach met her ears, as well as the sounds from the restaurants on Main Street, and the muted conversations from a few people walking on the sidewalks. She loved being above it all—three floors high gave her the perfect view of the bay, while still making her feel connected to the town.

  Connected. Exactly what Lance Greene is trying not to be. She could not stop her thoughts from wandering down that path once more. Truthfully, he had been on her mind all day, alternating between anger and sympathy. Anger that he had lied and intimidated to get her to go away. Sympathy that he felt the need to be so disconnected to others that he did not even want them near his house, which was out of the way to begin with.

  She had toyed with the thought of going back the next day to give him a piece of her mind, and had not quite dismissed the idea. Maybe he wants to be left alone, but he went about it all wrong! And he certainly doesn’t have the rights to all the sea glass on the beach!

  Tired of thinking of the enigmatic Lance, she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and re-entered her apartment. Sighing, she rinsed the glass out before making sure her door was locked and then headed into her bedroom. A long, hot bath while finishing the book she had started was the perfect ending to a day that had not started out perfectly.

  Sunday morning dawned just as beautifully as the previous day, and as she finished her bowl of cereal she determined Lance Greene was not going to intimidate her into staying off the southern beach. It had the best view of some of the ships anchored in the bay and she was not going to change her weekend plans for him.

  Grabbing her binoculars, shoving the pad of paper and her sunglasses into her little backpack, she settled a ball cap over her head, pulling her ponytail through the hole in the back. With her hand on the doorknob, she spied the pink, plastic bucket with yesterday’s bounty of sea glass still inside. Hesitating, she grimaced as she grabbed it on her way out.

  Thirty minutes later, she wandered do
wn the beach, keeping a sharp eye out for where she was in relation to Lance’s property, making sure to not get close. Stopping, she took note of the ships in the bay, jotting down their names and identifications as well as snapping more pictures. She loved the little camera zoom lens she had bought for her phone, surprised at how much more detail she was able to capture in her photographs.

  Finished, she stared down at the sea glass she had added to yesterday’s collection. The glistening shards caught the morning light, glowing and twinkling. Almost taunting. Sighing, she lifted her gaze in the direction of Lance’s house, even though she was far enough away she could not see it. Her mind wandered to the beautiful artwork he created.

  With a determined air, she turned and headed up the dunes toward the road.

  Having stayed up late again last night, Lance slept in on Sunday morning, a rarity for him. He had spent part of the night working on his latest design, but needed a large piece of sea glass to create the perfect balance.

  Rising from bed, he padded into his kitchen, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes as he searched for the coffee. Out. Damn. Realizing he had forgotten to pick it up at the grocery, he stood for a moment in indecision, hating the idea of a grocery run. But, the need for caffeine called, so he headed back into his bedroom. A quick shower later, he grabbed his keys on his way out the front door.

  As he pulled the wooden door behind him, his foot tapped an object in his way. Looking down, he viewed a pink, plastic, child’s sand bucket sitting on his doorstep. Incredulous, he stared for a moment, as though the item was an apparition and would disappear. Leaning over, he spied the sea glass in the bottom, more than yesterday’s haul. Sucking in a quick breath, he jerked his head up, scanning the area. No one could be seen. What the hell is her game? The idea that someone had come to his doorstep while he was sleeping unnerved him.

  Bending, he snapped up the pail, exposing a folded piece of paper underneath. Taking it, he unfolded the missive.