Summer Days

by Lisa Jackson

  “Just keep hanging around. I know my brother. He’ll come to you.”

  “In the meantime.” Celia leaned forward and whispered, just in case a summer breeze were to catch her words and carry them down the boardwalk. “Catch me up on everything you’ve got on Elizabeth Tanner.”

  “Ah. A mother-daughter takedown.” Chris finished his beer, then raised his hand to the waitress. Celia had to laugh; he looked like a little kid in school waiting to get called on, but sure enough a waitress scooped his empty glass up and headed off to get him another. He grinned at Celia. She had to smile back. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better,” Chris said.

  CHAPTER 7

  When Elizabeth Tanner had humiliated Pete Jenkins, she did it in a very public way. Celia fumed as she remembered the gathering on the beach. Neighborhood Watch, her ass. It was a modern-day witch hunt. At least fifty residents had gathered for Elizabeth’s witch hunt. “We’re going to take back our community!”

  Celia had stood on the boardwalk watching. At first she had simply been looking for Jacob in the mob. She’d been desperate to see him, but also furious and hurt beyond belief. To have him leave so happy—I have a surprise for you—and then never speak to him again. How did things like that happen?

  The ring. She never would have guessed it in a million years. That’s why Jacob had been so upset it was missing. Not because they had wanted to pawn it and use the cash, but because he had been going to propose.

  Celia kept seeing her father throwing a paint can at Jacob. It probably shouldn’t make her laugh, but it did. She also couldn’t help imagining how the proposal would have gone. Jacob would have returned, and held her, and kissed her. He would have gotten down on one knee in the sand. She knew this beyond a doubt. Celia would have said yes. This too was indisputable. They would have been married twenty years by now. With kids, and a house of their own, and most likely a couple of pets. But that’s not what had happened. All because of interference from Chris, and Emily.

  So who had taken the ring and why? Did he or she know what Jacob had planned on doing with it? Could it have been Chris himself? He had admitted to having a crush on Celia, he had known Jacob was going to propose, and he had come to stop it with a very devious “Chris-like” plan of attack.

  But he was different now, and he seemed genuinely remorseful. Surely he would have confessed if he’d taken the ring.

  Celia turned back to the beach and, in her memory, saw Elizabeth handing out fliers.

  HAMPTON BEACH BURGLAR!

  Half the women in the crowd, including Elizabeth, were probably totally turned on by the thought. There was even a picture of her father on the flyer, going into someone’s home. Legally, of course. He did work for all the locals. Soon the crowd was stirred up, murmuring about items of theirs that had gone missing. Celia hadn’t been able to contain herself. She ran onto the beach, shouting.

  “It’s not him! He didn’t take the ring. My father isn’t a thief!” She screamed it over and over, pushing her way through the crowd, looking people in the eye. She could tell by the way they stared back that he’d already been tried and convicted. Celia made her way up to Elizabeth and squared off, looking the woman in the eye. “Tell them. Tell them why you’re really doing this.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I admire your loyalty to your dad. It must be so hard to grow up with a thief for a dad and a drunk for a mother.”

  Elizabeth’s words struck Celia right between the eyes. Celia heard the sound of gasping. It came from her. She didn’t realize anyone on Hampton Beach knew about her mother. How did they? What horrible gossips they all were. And how in the world could Elizabeth Tanner stand in front of her and say those things to a young girl? With all those people watching? Celia could feel herself shaking with humiliation and rage. She was also stunned, almost paralyzed. She’d never had someone treat her with such blatant cruelty. She should have stomped on Elizabeth’s foot or punched her in the face.

  But all Celia could manage was to snatch fliers out of people’s hands as she pushed her way out of the crowd and back to the boardwalk. When she reached it, she looked up to find her father waiting for her. He glanced at the fliers, then swiftly took them out of her hands and tossed them into the nearest trashcan.

  “Ice cream, Sassafras?” he said. That was their last night on Hampton Beach.

  It’s over, Celia told herself. It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter . It didn’t work. Celia would throw her father a party; that’s what she would do. She would furnish Ocean House and invite all the locals to one big party. Elizabeth and Emily included. It was time Jacob knew what Chris and Emily had done; it was time for Celia to look Elizabeth in the eye and tell her she had no right treating people like they were beneath her. It was time to sleep in a real bed instead of on a blow-up mattress. And maybe nobody else would give two hoots. But Celia might feel better. Then, she would spread her father’s ashes in the ocean, and turn Ocean House into the welcoming, all-inclusive place it was meant to be. Ever since moving to the ocean as a little girl, Celia had had a reoccurring fantasy of owning a large beach house and inviting city kids whose families couldn’t afford a vacation, a free place to stay for up to a week. It was unfathomable to Celia that some kids had never even seen the ocean. And Ocean House was the perfect place to follow her dream. It looked like she wasn’t going to get the guy, but she sure as hell had the house. Maybe everything had led her back here so that she could finally follow her lifelong dream. At the end of the day, you had to feel good about giving others a well-deserved place to just get away.

  There was a man waiting for her on the porch. From a distance she could make out the receding hairline and a tan suit. Oh God. Ben? Her only advantage was that he hadn’t noticed her. He was staring at the rocking chair. She almost giggled. He was still in the investment banking, Red Bull world. He was like an alien who couldn’t fathom what a rocking chair was for. She ducked down by the side of the porch so she could think as she crouched. The next thing she knew, a pair of sneakers appeared next to her. She looked up muscular, tanned legs to find Jacob staring down at her. They locked eyes, and he smiled. Her insides turned to jelly as she smiled back. Jacob lifted his head.

  “Can I help you?” he called to Ben.

  “Oh. Hello. I’m looking for Celia Jensen.” Celia heard Ben walk across the porch toward Jacob. He was going to see her if he came any closer. Jacob hopped onto the porch and led him a safe distance away.

  “I just saw her way down the boardwalk,” Jacob said. “If you hurry, you can probably catch her.”

  Celia could just imagine Ben in his suit running down the boardwalk. “I think I’ll just wait,” Ben said.

  “Can’t stop you from waiting, but you’ll have to move off this porch.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I don’t know you. And this isn’t your porch.”

  “Celia is my fiancée.”

  Fiancée? Why that little . . . twat. How dare he?

  “Well. I’m not going to get into any of that, but I am going to ask you to wait until you’re properly invited to come up on this porch.”

  “And just who the hell do you think you are?”

  Uh-oh. She didn’t want Jacob getting in this deep. Although she loved that he was protecting her. Celia popped up.

  “Hello, Ben.”

  “Celia?” Ben was taken completely aback. Celia felt kind of bad.

  “Fiancée?” Celia said. Ben glared at her.

  “Can we talk?” he said. “In private.”

  “We broke up, Ben. You can’t go around calling me your fiancée.”

  Ben looked at Jacob. Then back at Celia. “Is this the guy?” he said. Jacob looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

  Oh, he’s the guy, all right. Look at him. Is there any question at all that this would be the guy? “All right,” Celia said. “Let’s go inside.” She pulled her key out and marched toward the door.

  “What guy?” Jacob said.

 
“Oh, don’t be so smug,” Ben said. “Looks like you two didn’t waste any time making up for lost years.”

  “That’s enough, Ben,” Celia said. “Jacob has a very . . .” She stopped. What was she going to say about Emily? “Well-known girlfriend.”

  There went that eyebrow again. Did Jacob have any idea how sexy he looked? “I can stay,” Jacob said. “If you want?”

  “No. You can go,” Ben said.

  “It’s okay,” Celia said. Jacob nodded, then started down the porch. “Wait,” Celia called. He stopped. Looked fully prepared to come back if she asked him to. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh.” Jacob faltered. “I just—was going to look at that sink you said was leaking.”

  “Oh,” Celia said. “Right.” Her insides lit up. She had never asked him to look at a sink. He was here for something private. God, she wanted to just kiss him and get it over with. If Ben hadn’t shown up, they might be kissing right now.

  “Where are your tools?” Ben said.

  “I have tools,” Celia said. “I guess you’ll have to fix it later,” she said to Jacob.

  “By all means, fix it now,” Ben said. “I’m not going to let her blame me for prolonging a leak!” Celia opened the door, and Ben headed in. She glanced at Jacob again. He smiled. She smiled.

  “Now you have to pretend to fix my sink,” she whispered as Jacob brushed past her. He stopped when they were both in the doorway. Once again, so, so close.

  “It really does leak,” he whispered back.

  “Oh,” she said. “Can you fix it?”

  “Probably not.” With that, he walked the rest of the way inside, leaving her longing for him once again.

  Celia purposely stayed in the living room with Ben. She didn’t want to see Jacob lying under the sink. She would probably toss all decency and decorum away and climb on top of him. Ben paced the living room.

  “Okay,” he finally said, throwing his arms up. “I like it. We’ll keep it as our vacation house.”

  “What?”

  “Come home, Celia. I miss you like crazy.”

  “Oh, Ben. I thought I made myself very clear.” Was she imagining things, or did the clanking in the kitchen suddenly stop?

  “It was grief talking.”

  “Ben. It wasn’t. It was me talking.”

  “Is he the one?”

  “What?”

  “The true love your father wanted you to ‘reconnect’ with?”

  A loud clanging sound rang out from the kitchen. Celia didn’t dare look in that direction. “Please. Let’s not focus on that.”

  “Never play poker, Celia. Ever.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I’m not going to sell the condo. It’s a buyer’s market.”

  “Then you’ll have to buy me out.”

  “What? So you can stay here? Chase lover boy?”

  Now the kitchen was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “No. So I can live my life, Ben. I’ve spent too many years covering up the girl I used to be. Living the exact opposite of the life I really wanted to live. But that’s over now. I like you, Ben, and I thought what I wanted was a safe, dependable relationship. But—”

  “Not this again. So you don’t feel fireworks. They don’t last forever, you know. They blow up, and then they’re over within seconds. Haven’t you ever seen fireworks?”

  Yes. Every year. Right here on this beach with Jacob. And not just on the Fourth of July. “I don’t want to be with you. My life is changing now.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I put up with you and your crazy dad for seven years, and this is the thanks I get?”

  “Get out.”

  “I’m not selling, and I’m not—”

  “The lady said ‘Get out.’ ” Jacob stood in the doorway, shirtless, holding a wrench in one hand and the Chock full o’Nuts can in the other.

  Ben pointed to the coffee can. “What’s he doing with that? Better yet. What are you still doing with that?”

  “I’m standing in,” Jacob said. “If Pete were here he’d want me to throw it at your head.”

  “Are you listening to this?” Ben said.

  “Yes. I think they’re asking you to leave.”

  “Why do you still have that can?”

  “Because I’m not delivering his ashes to the ocean until I’ve done what I came here to do,” Celia said.

  “And what’s that?” Jacob asked. He sounded genuinely curious. Darn it. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?

  “You didn’t tell him?” Ben said. “About your dad’s dying wish?”

  “Don’t be so sarcastic.”

  “You’re the one carrying him around in a coffee can.”

  “It’s what he wanted.”

  “Just like he wanted you to run and find lover boy.”

  “Wait,” Jacob said. “Me?”

  “I don’t believe this,” Celia said.

  “Neither do I,” Jacob said. “I thought your father hated me.”

  “Join the club,” Ben said.

  “I still have a dent from where he nailed me with a paint can,” Jacob said. Celia’s head jerked toward him. The paint can her father had thrown when Jacob asked for her hand in marriage. They locked eyes. A current buzzed through them. Celia tore her eyes away from him.

  “He never threw anything at me,” Ben said. “Is that bad? Does he only throw things at people he likes?”

  “Ben. I’m sorry you’re hurt. But it’s over. I don’t know how else to say it. I’ll have a lawyer contact you about settling the house.”

  “Good luck with that. And good luck with getting all your things back.”

  “You know what? Have at them. I have everything I need right here.” Celia threw her arms open.

  Ben looked around at the empty room. “You have nothing.”

  Of course Ben would see it that way. He thought in terms of numbers, and charts, and things. “And I’ve never felt so blessed.” Celia marched to the door. “Goodbye, Ben.” Ben threw a disgusted look at Jacob, and then he was gone. Celia had never loved any sound more than the door slamming after him.

  Jacob was on her in seconds. “Are you okay?”

  She wanted to touch his abs. With hers. “I did what I had to do. What a person should do in these situations.” She looked at him pointedly. She wasn’t going to kiss him. Or touch. She shouldn’t even let him in her house, fixing her sink without a shirt. If he wanted to be with her, he would have to break up with Emily.

  “You’ve always been brave,” he said.

  “No,” she whispered. “There was a time when I was a coward.” This time there was something deeper about the connection when their eyes met. “That morning at the beach. After we . . .”

  “Made love?” The relief from hearing him say it was immense. She had believed Chris, of course, but Emily had planted such a seed of doubt that it meant everything to her to finally get confirmation.

  “I waited three hours for you.”

  “What? I ran into Emily on my way back and she said—”

  “She lied. Just like Chris lied to me.”

  “Chris? What do you mean?”

  “I want to talk about all of this. Maybe we can go somewhere—”

  “Absolutely. Now?” She stepped forward. Her hand reached for his face. She just wanted to caress it. “Your father wanted you to come find me?” Jacob said.

  Celia nodded. “He said the only time he saw me really happy was when I was with you.”

  “I knew it.” The shrill voice rang through the room, jolting Celia and Jacob apart. Emily stood just a few feet away, hands on her hips, glaring. Neither of them had heard her come in.

  “I told you she was after you,” Emily said. “Let’s go.”

  “Emily,” Jacob said. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Emily said. “That’s the real question.”

  “I asked him to fix
my sink,” Celia said.

  “Oh, I’ll just bet you did,” Emily said.

  “It’s not true,” Jacob said. “I came on my own.” He glanced over at Celia. “And I think I might have made the sink worse.”

  I don’t care. I love you.

  “We’ll talk about this at home,” Emily said. “Let’s go, Jacob.”

  “Give me a minute,” Jacob said to Celia in a low voice. She started to tell him it was all right, that he should just go, but it would have been a lie. She nodded. Jacob walked out to the porch and waited for Emily to follow. Emily started after him, then stopped and stared at Celia.

  “This isn’t over,” Emily said.

  I know, Celia thought. I think it’s just begun.

  Celia wasn’t able to hear what they were saying. But she could see Emily’s arms flailing on the porch. Emily was doing her best to get Jacob to leave with her. All these years and she doesn’t know him like I do, Celia thought. Jacob might be quiet at times, more of an observer, but he had never been a pushover. The more Emily begged him to leave or harped on him, the more of a sure bet it was that he was going to stay. And then what? It didn’t matter. They were going to talk. And then? Whatever it was, Celia was going to be ready. This time she wasn’t going to let him slip away.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jacob and Emily stood on the porch. “Why are we standing out here?” Emily said. “I want to go home.”

  “I won’t keep you long,” Jacob said.

  “What do you mean? You’re coming with me.”

  “Emily. This conversation is a long time coming.”

  “The one with her or the one with me?”

  “Both, I’m afraid.”

  “You are not breaking up with me on the porch of my mother’s house.”

  “We can step onto the sidewalk, if you’d like.”

  “Jacob. Jacob, please. Please. You can’t do this to me.”