Sea Scope

by Debbie De Louise

  Looking at her own face as she brushed out her long auburn hair, Julie was happy with her reflection. She knew she could pass for someone in her fifties. The only wrinkles marring her skin were a few laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. She'd had a good life, a full one, and despite her family's unasked questions about marriage, she'd had many lovers and never regretted avoiding matrimony.

  Julie's violet eyes, that men said reminded them of Elizabeth Taylor's and which they thought complimenting would get them a fast ticket into her bed, twinkled as she applied mascara. Everything was going to be fine. If things went well, she would ask Sarah to join her at Sea Scope and help her run the inn. She had a feeling her niece was having marriage problems. If that was the case, Sarah might be open to moving back to South Carolina. If not, maybe she could convince Derek to relocate there with her and apply for a teaching position at the local university.

  Julie still had her robe on when she went downstairs. At Sea Scope alone, she didn't bother baking muffins and breakfast treats. She'd grab fruit from the bowl on the table and put on a pot of tea. Even when one of her lovers stayed over, she rarely made a big deal over breakfast. Usually, she'd talk him into getting up and making eggs for them.

  As she chose an apple from the wrought-iron fruit basket, she heard a noise at the front door. There was a small mailbox on the porch, but usually she picked up the mail from the inn's P.O. box in town. She liked to take a daily walk there. It helped to keep her figure trim.

  As she was about to check the sound, Alabaster came meowing into the kitchen looking for his breakfast. Alabaster, or Al, for short, was a black cat she'd adopted to keep her company five years ago. She'd named him for the white, stone-like material as a joke and thought it funny that he often hung out by the inn's statues that were composed of the same substance.

  “Hi, Al. I was just going to check the mailbox before feeding you.”

  The cat followed, tail held high as Julie walked out to the porch. The postal box stood to the side beyond the rockers and patio swing. It was a long white box that needed a touch up. She made a note to repaint it when she had time.

  As Al circled her legs emitting short cries that signaled his hunger, Julie checked for mail. There was one letter inside the box. It wasn't in an envelope and bore no stamp. Someone had dropped it off. She figured it was an advertisement, but when she unfolded the paper, she saw that it was a note written in childish handwriting. Each letter had been marked with a different crayon. As one sensitive to color, she realized that the hues composed a rainbow missive.

  She took the paper and sat in one of the high back rockers she had covered with padding with her mother years ago and had replaced one lonely spring when she was between boyfriends.

  Al continued to beg for his breakfast.

  “One minute, boy. Let me read this.”

  Julie had forgotten her reading glasses inside. She didn't like wearing them because they aged her face. She squinted at the words, the light crayoned letters making them difficult to read.

  “Do you really think you should reopen the inn? How many more deaths do you want on your head?”

  Your nephew, Glen

  She gasped. Al sensed her dismay and stopped crying, his body alert to danger; the fur on his back starting to rise.

  She was tempted to tear up the paper but reconsidered. Should she go to the police? They were never helpful in the past, and this was obviously a prank. Glen was dead, buried in the family cemetery nearly two years ago.

  She decided to ignore the note but brought it inside with her and placed it in a drawer in her bedroom.

  Even though her morning was now ruined, she went back downstairs, fed Al, and ate her apple. In two days, Sea Scope would open its doors to guests. She wouldn't change her plans. Neither Sarah nor anyone else need know about the note. Everything was going to be fine.

  Chapter Four

  Long Island

  I didn't expect Derek, at the last minute, to change his mind about accompanying me to Sea Scope. He was actually pleased that Carolyn was taking his place.

  “You two girls will have a great time cavorting around Cape Bretton. Maybe you'll both pick up Southern guys,” he teased.

  I didn't find his comment funny. “I'm only going because Aunt Julie invited me. The place doesn't hold the fondest memories.”

  He looked up from his coffee cup as we sat at the kitchen table. “I think it's time you exorcised those demons, Sarah.”

  I didn't honor that with a reply.

  “Does your mother know you're going?”

  That was a difficult question. I had intentionally avoided calling her since I received the invitation. I had an aversion to lying, and yet my mother wouldn't take the news well. I couldn't risk her having another breakdown. She was on the edge, and only the numbing effects of alcohol and an assortment of pills her psychiatrist prescribed kept her from falling off the precipice. Glen's death had her hospitalized for two months.

  “No. I haven't spoken with her.”

  “You're probably better off not saying anything.” Even Derek was aware of the danger of mentioning Sea Scope to my mother.

  I finished my coffee and rinsed the empty mug in the sink. I was still feeling a bit queasy after the dream/memory from the night before. However, I feared there was another reason for my nausea. It started when I missed my second period last week. It would be ironic that, after all our arguments about fertility treatments, I would end up pregnant naturally. It was rotten timing and not something I wanted to share with Derek before I left. I couldn't even be happy about it because of the uncertain nature of our marriage at this point.

  On the day we were departing, Carolyn arrived later than the time we had agreed to meet. She was always several minutes late, so I wasn't worried. We had allowed ourselves a full two days to get to Sea Scope with a stopover wherever we both got too tired to continue driving. I would've been happy to fly, but Carolyn hated planes.

  Derek's summer intensive workshop didn't start until ten, so he was there to see us off. He had helped me pack my car and made sure my cell phone was charged and that I had first aid and highway emergency kits. He'd also filled the gas tank the night before, something I'd almost forgotten about in my haste to pack.

  “Call me when you get there,” he said as we stood outside, the warm July breeze weaving through his dark hair and fanning back my bangs.

  He reached out and smoothed them into place with his fingertips. “You take care, Sarah.”

  For a moment, I saw the old warmth and wanted to postpone my plans. I could stay here and woo my husband back, tell him about the baby if my suspicions were correct, and make everything between us right again. Then Carolyn pulled up in her red sports car, and I realized it was too late. I was glad we'd agreed to use my slower but sturdier Camry for the drive.

  Derek helped Carolyn move her bags into the small space that was left next to mine in the trunk.

  “Why do you ladies pack so much? Doesn't your aunt have a washer and dryer down there?”

  Carolyn smiled. I couldn't see her eyes through her dark sunglasses. She tapped Derek on the arm. “We aren't only bringing clothes. We need accessories, makeup, and other girl stuff.”

  I noted the bright blue scarf she was wearing, one of the accessories she mentioned. I had a thought about Isadora Duncan and then cleared it from my mind.

  “Well, you take care of my wife. Don't drive more than two or three hours without taking a break and switching drivers.”

  He came back and stood at my side. “Have fun, ladies.” Although he addressed both of us, he was looking at me. I had another urge to call the whole trip quits, but Carolyn had closed the stuffed trunk and taken a seat on the passenger side to wait for me to join her.

  “Thanks,” I said. I wanted to add that I'd miss him, but his lips were on mine cutting off my words. It was a brief kiss, shortened because Carolyn was watching us, but I felt something in it I hadn't felt in a long time.

 
“I'll call you when we stop for the night,” I said, a little breathless from the kiss.

  “Even before if you want. My classes end at two today. I'll check my cell afterwards. Have a good trip and say “hi” to your aunt for me.”

  I nodded as I got behind the wheel. I considered keeping my visit short. There was no reason I had to stay long. Maybe Carolyn would also want to leave after a week or two. I wondered how her boyfriend Jack had taken the news of her trip.

  Derek stood in the driveway waving to me as I pulled away from the house. I also saw Rosy in the front window. Derek had promised to take good care of her while I was gone, but I knew I'd miss her company rolled up on the side of my pillow at night or stretching out by my canvas as I worked upstairs in the garret.

  “Aren't you excited?” Carolyn asked and then answered the question herself before I could reply. “I am. I've never been to South Carolina, and the only lighthouse I've ever seen was the one at Montauk Point when my parents took me out East as a kid.”

  “Don't expect much,” I said. “The area is pretty, and I suppose the lighthouse is nice, but if you've seen one, you've seen them all.” That wasn't exactly true. The Bretton Island Lighthouse was an attraction that brought many tourists to Cape Bretton, but my memory was tainted by what occurred there. It was the last place I looked forward to visiting.

  Carolyn seemed to read my mind. “Sorry. I remember what you told me about what happened at the lighthouse, and I know that must cloud its view for you. Maybe seeing it as an adult will help you get over the experience.”

  She echoed Derek's comment about exorcizing my demons. As I picked up the main road to enter the highway, I wondered if that was possible. Was Aunt Julie trying to do that same thing by reopening the inn?

  The beginning of our drive went well. We still faced a bottleneck of traffic crossing the bridges and passing through the endless toll booths, but Carolyn kept up a steady stream of conversation and questions to pass our time.

  “You have to prepare me, Sarah. What is your aunt like? Who else will be staying there with us? Why did your aunt decide to open the inn now?”

  I kept my eyes on the crowded road as we inched along and tried to answer. “My aunt is a strong woman. You met my mother. Aunt Julie is the exact opposite of her.”

  “Was your dad like your aunt?”

  The sun was in my eyes, and I wish I'd had the sense to bring sunglasses like Carolyn. I lowered the visor to help shield the glare, but my eyes were still tearing. I knew part of the reason was my response to that question. “I thought Dad was strong, but I guess as a kid, you have a different view of the adults in your life.”

  “Sorry. I forgot he died when you were eleven.”

  Carolyn knew all about Dad's suicide the year after we moved to Long Island. I changed the subject to answer the earlier questions she'd thrown at me. “Aunt Julie didn't tell me who else is staying at Sea Scope. I know she invited a few people she said I knew but hadn't seen since I moved away. The place isn't officially open yet. She mentioned that this is a trial run before the grand opening this fall. She retired last year, so she needs income to supplement her pension.”

  “She worked at other resorts in the area, right?”

  I nodded but kept my eyes ahead on the road. “Yes, but she never stayed anywhere for long because she liked to be in charge, and the only place she was ever able to totally do that was at Sea Scope.”

  “She sounds a bit domineering to me.”

  “Not really. I think the best word to describe her is confident. She prefers to guide people rather than lead them. She'll be seventy next week. She's my dad's older sister. He would've been sixty-five.”

  “I think I'll like her. You said she also paints.”

  I had a quick memory of sitting beside Glen in the oak-paneled drawing room while Aunt Julie sketched us. That drawing still hangs in my garret. “She's a portrait painter,” I clarified. “I wish I had the skill to paint people.”

  “You do a great job with cats.”

  I was about to thank her, but we'd exited the bridge, and I was looking for an EZ pass lane to pay the toll.

  “It's that one on the right,” Carolyn motioned, waving her hand.

  “Don't do that,” I cautioned, following her direction.

  “Sorry. You can play backseat driver when it's my turn to take over.”

  The red bar lifted, and we passed through the lane. I stayed right to catch the exit south. Derek and Rosy were already miles away.

  We made a stop after three hours as Derek suggested. The rest stop we chose had a McDonald's and, although it was a little early for lunch, we decided to eat. We also needed to stretch our legs and use the bathrooms that, thankfully, were clean. The temperature was rising close to mid-day, and it would only get hotter as we headed south.

  “I could use a cold drink,” Carolyn said reading my mind as we walked into the restaurant.

  “Me, too. I think I'll get a shake.”

  There was a long line at the counter. Women and men in t-shirts and shorts, some traveling with their children, were stopping as we did for food and rest.

  “Good thing we didn't wait. Imagine this line at noon,” Carolyn commented.

  Ahead of us, a young blonde woman stood next to two sandy-haired children, a boy and a girl about eight and ten.

  There was something about the mother that reminded me of mine all those years ago. Other than a weekend in Charleston and a family trip to Disney World when I was six and Glen was four, we had never traveled much while we lived in Cape Bretton except around Bretton Island and Beaufort, one of our neighboring towns.

  I watched the little girl, a head above her brother, ask him what he wanted to order. She was acting like a server. She even held a small pad of paper in her hand. It was likely she'd been using it to draw while on their drive, as I used to do as a child.

  The boy had a box of crayons. “I'll write my order,” he told his sister. She handed him the pad.

  “What are you having?” Carolyn asked from beside me.

  I still had my eyes on the children. “A cheeseburger and small fries with a vanilla shake. What about you?”

  “I'm a Big Mac girl, and I never pass up the shakes. I'll take the chocolate.”

  The little boy handed the pad back to the girl with his crayoned list. As much as I always loved to draw, Glen used to taunt me by hiding my crayons. He often left notes written in crayon around Sea Scope with clues to where he'd hidden them. He enjoyed the game. During our last summer there, he'd started leaving Aunt Julie his crayon clues after hiding silverware, a book, or piece of jewelry. She'd never gotten too upset over it, but our mother punished him once when he played the trick on her by hiding her favorite sweater. He'd never attempted it with Dad, but I think our father would've found it funny.

  The woman was placing her family's order. She read from the scribbled paper her daughter handed her.

  The heat hit me like a sudden blast, and I felt faint.

  “You okay, Sarah? You look pale. Don't worry. We're next. The food will do you good, and then I'll take the wheel.”

  I smiled. “That prospect doesn't make me feel better.”

  She laughed. “I know I'm a bit heavy on the pedal, but I'll wait until we've finished eating before racing us off.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  The kids walked with their mother out of the restaurant holding their Happy Meals and sodas and squabbling over the toys.

  We were next at the counter. Carolyn insisted on paying for us both with the proviso that I would pay for dinner.

  There were a few benches outside, but most people were eating in their cars or saving the food for another stop. The benches had umbrellas, and I welcomed the shade as I took a seat across from my friend.

  Carolyn took her Big Mac out of the brown bag and unwrapped it. “I'm starved.” She put a straw in her shake and sipped it down with a bite of burger.

  I ate a piece of my cheeseburger and two fries an
d then drank my shake.

  “Not hungry, Sarah? If you eat at that rate, we'll need three days to get to Sea Scope.”

  I paused. I was naturally a slow eater, but my stomach was starting its waves again. I hoped I wasn't going to throw up this time.

  “Please, Carolyn. I'm not feeling well.”

  “I don't mean to rush you. Take your time. You can wrap that up. I brought a cooler. It should stay good a few hours in that, although I'm not sure how tasty a cold burger will be. At least we can salvage your drink.”

  I took a deep breath. “It's okay. I'll get something later.” I got up, still a bit shaky, and tossed everything into a nearby garbage can.

  Carolyn lowered her sunglasses and looked at me with concern. “What's wrong? I have Tylenol and Tums on me, and the medical kit is in the car.”

  “Thanks, but I don't need anything. I'm feeling better now.” I took another deep breath, but the smell of Carolyn's burger lingered in the air, and I felt my stomach rise again. I stepped away toward the parking lot.

  “Maybe I need to walk around a bit. You finish your lunch. I'll be right back.”

  The stopover area wasn't scenic, but it felt good to stretch my legs. It also helped clear my mind of the images of the family so similar to mine. I wondered about the father. Was he waiting in the car for his wife and kids to bring him back food, or were they traveling alone while he had to remain at work like Derek? The last scenario was that the woman was a single mother, divorced, widowed, or never married.

  My cell phone buzzed from my purse. I forgot I'd turned it on when we'd gotten to the rest stop. Carolyn and I both had chargers with us, so we didn't have to worry about losing battery power. It still made more sense to keep the phone off while it wasn't being used.

  I looked down at the display hoping there was a message from Derek, even though I knew he was still in class. I blinked a few times as I read the text. The sun was bright, causing glare on the screen. I moved into the shade of the ladies' room that I'd used earlier halfway around the spot where I'd left Carolyn.