A Walk Along the Beach

by Debbie Macomber

  “Dad.” She ignored me and my question.

  “He needs an answer,” her father said. He carried a box and set it on top of another.

  Willa turned and looked pointedly at me. “Sean already has his answer. He knows what I want.”

  Her words hung in the air like a time bomb.

  “It looks like you’ve got everything squared away here. I’ll be waiting at the apartment.”

  Having said that, she walked out and gently closed the door.

  CHAPTER 32

  Willa

  I had to credit Sean with being persistent. He was a man of his word. Every morning, right around ten, he showed up at Bean There and ordered a mocha.

  As much as possible, I let Lannie, my new hire, wait on him. He never complained, never asked for me personally. He purchased his drink, sat down at one of the few tables until he’d finished, and then he’d leave.

  The weather was turning stormy with the approach of winter, so I didn’t walk along the beach nearly as often as I had shortly after we lost Harper. Coming to grips with the loss of my sister was never going to be easy, but as the days and weeks passed, I slowly discovered that I could breathe again. As much as I would have preferred to shut myself in a closet and wallow in my grief, life went on. I had responsibilities, commitments. My staff depended on me. I couldn’t let down the community that had supported and loved me.

  Having Dad live with me had been an unexpected bonus. Now that he wasn’t drinking, he was a new man. He enjoyed his job at the Ace Hardware store; it gave him purpose and he liked helping people. I know he grieved for Harper, but he was better at keeping his feelings to himself than I was. He routinely attended his meetings and checked in with his sponsor.

  Harper had so often complained about my mothering, but with Dad living with me, I had someone to cook for and look after. It helped me deal with the loss of my sister. We didn’t talk about her much, but I felt her presence almost as if she was with me, watching over me.

  The holidays came upon us without a welcome. I didn’t know how we were going to get through Christmas. Thanksgiving was hard enough. Dad and I gathered at Lucas’s house, with Chantelle and me doing the cooking. It was a bleak day for us all.

  The one bright spot, although I hated to admit it, was the text I got from Sean.

  Spending Thanksgiving with my folks. Back on Monday. Miss you.

  I must have read those few lines a dozen times. It angered me that his words meant this much.

  On Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, I got another text.

  Mom and Dad send their love. I do, too.

  The temptation to reply had been strong. At first, I was angry, wanting to demand that he stop texting me. I accepted that the only one I’d be hurting, though, was myself. A dozen times the next day I checked my phone, looking for another text. I was furious with myself for caring. I didn’t want him in my life. If I gave in, he would only disappoint and hurt me again. I didn’t want to love him, didn’t want to care. Unfortunately, the message didn’t make it to my heart.

  The Monday following Thanksgiving, true to his word, Sean showed up as usual at Bean There.

  “I thought about you the entire time I was away,” he said, after he’d placed his order. “I know how hard it must have been for all of you without Harper.”

  “It was…hard.” The empty space at the table felt like an open wound. We’d all tried to ignore the fact that Harper wasn’t with us. In retrospect, I believe if we had acknowledged it, and talked about her, it might have helped. Instead we were all more concerned about not heaping sadness on a day meant to be celebrated.

  “I wish I could have been with you.”

  I wished he could have been, too, but I wouldn’t say it.

  “I thought I should tell you I’m going to be away for a few days.”

  I stiffened; this was the reminder I needed. “Not my concern,” I said, hardening my heart against him.

  “Perhaps not. The only reason I mentioned it is so you won’t think I’m giving up on us.”

  “It would be better if you did.”

  “Not happening, Willa. I love you; I’ll wait for however long this takes. I hurt you, and I’ll regret that until my dying day. When you’re ready to forgive me, I’ll be here.”

  “I already forgave you, Sean. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to become involved with you.”

  “You’re already involved.”

  “Not any longer,” I insisted.

  His shoulders sank as he turned away. Part of me wanted to call him back, but I knew it was better to let him go.

  For the rest of the day I berated myself over my parting words. I hadn’t meant to sound heartless. He was trying so hard to make up to me and I rejected him at every turn. For my own peace of mind, I needed to keep him at arm’s length. What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be.

  * * *

  —

  For the rest of the week, I was busy preparing for Lucas and Chantelle’s wedding reception. From the first time Lucas had introduced us to Chantelle, I’d known she was the right woman for my brother. I’d loved her from the beginning, but never more than when she chose to have their wedding in the hospital so Harper could be part of it.

  As promised, I baked the wedding cakes. Two flavors. One Funfetti and one lemon, and I poured all my love into the mix. This was the one thing I could do for them to show how much I loved them and how grateful I was to have them both in my life, now more than ever.

  Naturally, Sean was away on another assignment at the time of the reception. That I should even think about him angered me. It was a reminder of what our future would be if I was to welcome him back into my life. There would always be another assignment, another reason to leave. Heaven only knew where he was this time or what risk he would be taking. He didn’t tell me, which said everything I needed to know. It was another dangerous location. Despite his claims of undying love, his camera meant far more to him than I ever would. I was smart to end it when I had.

  For Lucas and Chantelle’s wedding reception, the hotel ballroom was beautifully decorated with bright red poinsettias and evergreen swags. Small bunches of holly adorned the tables. Chantelle, along with family and friends, had put it all together.

  My only participation was to bake the cakes and join the others in the wedding party. I was thankful Chantelle didn’t ask me to wear the original bridesmaid dress. That would have brought up too many unwelcome memories, another reminder of Harper’s absence.

  I arrived well before the time of the event with the cakes. Each had four tiers and looked beautiful, if I did say so myself. I’d worked long and hard on them. Dad helped me cart them into the ballroom.

  Chantelle asked me to sit at the head table, but I begged off, explaining that I didn’t want Dad to sit alone. There weren’t many family members on our side who were able to attend the reception, especially in the winter months, when crossing the mountain pass would be required. Mom’s sister had recently undergone hip replacement and wasn’t able to make it. Dad’s family all lived on the East Coast, and we didn’t have much contact with them.

  The tables sat eight. I was about to sit down with Dad when John joined us.

  “John,” I said, pleased and excited to see him. “You came.”

  “I got an invitation.”

  “Yes, of course you did, but I didn’t expect you to drive all this way.” No wonder my sister had fallen in love with this man.

  “I wanted to be here. For Harper, for all of you.”

  Tears threatened, and I struggled to keep them at bay. “Thank you.”

  He reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on, Willa, this is a happy time. Harper would expect you to kick up your heels and dance with me.”

  I half laughed and half wept. “I’m a terrible dancer.”
>
  “Me, too. Harper made me promise, if she wasn’t here for this reception, that I was to dance with you in her place.”

  Now there was no holding back the tears. “Oh darn,” I said, rubbing my fingertips across my cheeks. I was convinced my mascara was running. I rose from the table and excused myself. Making my way across the ballroom, I found the ladies’ room, repaired the damage, and started back when I saw him.

  “Sean?” Although impeccably dressed, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “What are you doing here?” I found it impossible to hide my shock.

  “Lucas and Chantelle sent me an invitation.”

  They hadn’t told me. Had they asked, I would have persuaded them to take his name off the list.

  “I thought you were out of town.” I hadn’t seen him in more than ten days, not that I was counting.

  “I was on assignment. As you can see, I’m back.”

  I could also see that he had nearly killed himself to make it to the reception. “You’re exhausted.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t disagree. “No way was I missing this. It’s important to you, and that makes it important to me.”

  My heart melted a little and I had to force myself to keep from showing the impact his words had on me.

  “Is there a seat at your table?” he asked.

  “Ah…It might be better if you sat elsewhere.”

  “Willa, I’ve spent the last twenty hours in a cramped oversold airplane, calling in every favor I have to make it to this event. The least you can do is let me sit at your table.”

  He looked completely wiped out. Turning him away would be cruel, and as much as I should do it, I couldn’t. “There’s an empty seat at my table. You’re welcome to it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He followed me to where we were seated. I noticed he paused when he saw that John was positioned next to me. Dad sat on the other side.

  “You remember John, don’t you?” I said.

  “Of course. Good to see you.”

  The dinner was far better than I expected for hotel food. Of the three options, beef, chicken, or salmon, I chose salmon. Dad opted for the chicken, and both John and Sean asked for the filet.

  My brother’s two Army friends, Ted and Bill, razzed and teased Lucas something terrible. As the mood lightened, Dad and I couldn’t keep from laughing. Chantelle, ever the gracious hostess, spoke of how Lucas and she had met and how grateful she was to be part of our family. Her sister spoke as well. I was grateful no one expected me to give a speech. I’d rather bungee-jump than speak in front of a crowd. Had Harper been alive, she would have had everyone in stitches. We were the opposite in so many ways.

  Lucas and Chantelle cut the cakes and they were served. When that was finished, the disc jockey started the music. Chantelle’s father led her onto the dance floor for the traditional father-daughter dance before Lucas claimed his bride. Soon other couples took to the floor.

  John leaned his head close to mine. “Shall we?”

  “You’re sure about this?” I whispered back.

  “I promised Harper.”

  “I’d rather wait for a slow dance.”

  “Okay.” As far as I was concerned, the longer we delayed, the better.

  Sean stared across the table at John with a narrowed look that spoke of concern and displeasure. He couldn’t possibly have known what we were discussing, only that our heads were together. For all intents, it must have looked like we were sharing a private moment, which, in essence, we were.

  A couple of songs later, the beat of the music changed to a love song. John stood and extended his hand to me. It was now or never. I took it and rose from my chair.

  Sean half rose from his, and then, with gritted teeth, he closed his eyes and sat back down.

  John shared a look with me before he led me onto the dance floor. When he turned me into his arms, I was able to look back at the table where Sean sat. His head was bowed as if he found it agonizing to see me in the arms of another man.

  “I don’t think your man is very happy with me,” John murmured.

  From Sean’s tortured look, I’d say John was right.

  The music was slow and sultry. John and I didn’t really dance. We shuffled our feet back and forth and swayed to the beat. When the song ended, I breathed easier. “I hope Harper appreciates this,” I whispered.

  When we returned to the table, Sean was missing. I looked to Dad, who shrugged, offering no explanation.

  “Sean left?” John asked my father.

  Dad nodded. “Not long after you got to the dance floor.”

  John frowned apologetically. “I hope he didn’t get the wrong impression.”

  I opened my mouth to say who I danced with was none of Sean’s business, but before I could, Dad said, “I don’t think it could be avoided.” He stretched his arm across the table and locked it around my forearm. His eyes bored into mine.

  “Willa, put that poor man out of his misery.”

  Not until after the party ended did I consider reaching out to Sean. All the way back to the apartment I told myself who I saw or danced with wasn’t his concern. If only I hadn’t seen how devastated he looked when I left him to dance with John. It was guilt that made me do it. Once I’d changed into my pajamas, I reached for my phone and typed out a text.

  I don’t want you to have the wrong impression. I’m not involved with John.

  No more than a minute later, my phone rang. Caller ID told me it was Sean. I was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but after the fourth ring, I answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Why did you dance with him, then?” he asked, anger echoing with each word.

  “Sean, have you been drinking?” He slurred just enough for me to know he’d had at least one or two drinks.

  “You answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

  “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. I was Harper’s replacement for the evening. There, are you happy?”

  “No.”

  “It’s your turn. Answer my question.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t reach for the bottle until I got home. There are some occasions that call for it.”

  “I told you there’s nothing between us. You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know that when I fell into this bottle.”

  I’d never known Sean to drink excessively, or at all, for that matter. It troubled me that he would assume there was anything romantic between John and me.

  “If you were looking to bring me to my knees or make me jealous, you succeeded beyond your wildest expectations.”

  “I wasn’t. I promise.”

  “Thank you for that,” he said on the tail end of a sigh.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you for making the effort to be with me tonight.”

  “I’ll always do whatever I can to be where you are, Willa. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  I guess I hadn’t.

  CHAPTER 33

  Willa

  The first week of January, I couldn’t bear it any longer and made an appointment with Dr. Annie. This shouldn’t be happening. Bean There was up and running smoothly. I’d made enough in December to pay rent for January and make a small dent in the loan I’d gotten from the bank. Sitting in the exam room, I hated the thought of taking drugs, but I was desperate.

  The door opened and Annie walked in, a chart in her hand. She sat on the stool and rolled it closer to me so we were eye level, and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?” I’d already mentioned the issue to the nurse but guessed Dr. Annie wanted to hear it for herself.

  “I’m not sleeping…I mean, I do sleep, but never for long.” It was torturous. I didn’t have trouble falling asleep, but then after an hour or two I’d wake and
find it impossible to go back to sleep. This had been going on for weeks, ever since we lost Harper, and I was at my wit’s end.

  “Have you ever had anything like this happen before?”

  “No, never. It all started, as you might have guessed, since we lost my sister…and a bit before.”

  She crossed her legs and spoke to me as she would a friend, which she was. “Tell me about a typical night.”

  As best I could, I explained what was happening, the long periods of restlessness after only a few hours’ rest. “I feel like I’m running on empty. I’m making stupid mistakes at work; I recently ruined a batch of cinnamon rolls. Then I forgot to make a bank deposit and…and I’m afraid of what I might do next because I’m exhausted.”

  “Have you tried taking an afternoon nap?”

  “I’ve tried everything.” The frustration was as irritating as my inability to stay asleep for more than a few hours a night. “My eyes burn, but for the life of me I can’t go back to sleep.” I continued listing the other ideas I’d tried. Reading before I went to bed. Warm milk. Listening to music. Various kinds of white noise: the ocean waves, gentle forest sounds, birds chirping.

  Annie listened, nodding now and again.

  “I’m desperate,” I admitted. “I need something…a pill, drug, sleep therapy, something. Anything.” If she told me to stand on my head for fifteen minutes before I went to bed, I’d do it.

  “When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?”

  The answer immediately came to me. It was the night I’d gone to Sean’s house when I didn’t want to look at Harper’s empty bedroom, nor did I want to be alone.

  “A while ago…a few months.” I didn’t elaborate with details. My weakness embarrassed me now.

  “Was there anything different about that night?”

  Avoiding an answer, I shrugged, unwilling to tell her I’d spent the night curled up around Sean. “Can you help me?” I asked.