by Jenny Hale
“You all right?” Charlie asked, once she got outside, as he took his glass of lemonade from her outstretched hand.
“I’m fine,” she lied. Did it show on her face?
“What are those?” he asked, pointing to the photos in her hand.
“Memories.” She grabbed the small radio from inside the shed.
As they walked across the yard leading to the shore, Charlie said, “It’s so beautiful here.” He was trying to smooth out her mood, she could tell. She looked up at the sky that was still lit by the late evening sun as it made its descent. It was indeed a beautiful night.
When they reached the shore, Emily clicked on the old radio and set it in the sand. She walked over to the swings and sat down on one, the seat wobbling as she made herself comfortable. Charlie lowered himself down on the swing beside her.
“Papa hung these swings over the sand because Gram was worried we’d fall and she wanted a soft spot underneath us.” Emily flipped through the photos until she found one of Rachel and her on the swings. They had their swimsuits on, their hair wet and stringy from swimming all day. Emily was missing her front teeth. She turned it around to show him, the image making her smile.
Charlie grinned and then his thoughts seemed to turn inward. “As a child, I didn’t get the opportunity to play outside very much.”
Emily nodded, his comment making her feel sad. “See that tree over there?” Emily turned and pointed to an old oak tree by the house. “I used to climb that tree and hang by my knees on the top branch right there—the one that’s jutting straight out. Whenever Gram saw me through the window, she’d march outside and demand for me to get down, telling me it was just too dangerous. She was right,” she said, catching a drip of condensation on the side of her glass with her finger. “I could’ve fallen on my head.”
“Kids don’t always realize how fragile life is,” Charlie said.
“True, but I should have… On a Tuesday, my mom dropped me and Rachel off at school. She kissed my cheek and handed me my lunch in a brown paper sack. She told me not to forget to write my homework down—I always forgot—and that she’d help me with it that night. That was the last time I spoke to my mother. My father’s car was hit head-on that day. He’d taken the day off to be with my mom.” As the tears surfaced, she sniffled and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why that came out.”
Charlie gave her the sweetest look—so caring that if they didn’t have so much between them, she would want to bury her face in his chest and feel his arms around her. “It came out because you’re ready to tell it.”
The wind had picked up, blowing her long hair into her face. She twisted it and put it behind her shoulder. Now that the conversation had ended, she noticed the song that was on. “He’s playing tomorrow night,” she said, pointing to the radio. “He’s a good friend of Jeff’s. We all swear he’ll be the next big thing in Nashville.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows in interest, his masculine hands looking out of place on the ropes of the swing.
“Would you want to go?” he asked her.
She absolutely wanted to go. She could call Rocky and Elizabeth—get them to go. She could organize a group of her friends. They could meet up there, show Charlie what living in Clearwater was really like.
But maybe she shouldn’t. Did she really want to go out with Charlie? She’d spent enough time with him to know how easily her resolve could slip when she was around him. She liked being with him, but should she give into that, when it might just make things more complicated between them?
He grinned at her. “I’d love to take you.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know…”
“It might be fun.”
She wanted to see her friends and she wanted to spend more time with Charlie. She couldn’t deny it. “Okay,” she said.
“I’m excited about tomorrow,” Charlie said.
She couldn’t help it, but she felt excited, too.
It was Emily’s day off. She’d awakened to find that Gram had already gone out. She’d left a note that she’d be out most of the day visiting a friend. Emily couldn’t help but wonder what friend—was it Winston?
She made herself a cup of coffee and went out to sit on the back porch. Even with the wind, the morning air was warm. The paddle fans were working overtime above her, but they were no match for the heat. She sat down on a wicker chair and folded her feet under her. The bay was clear today.
Emily looked over at Papa’s boat through the screen on the porch; it was still sitting on the sawhorses. What would Papa think of Gram selling Oyster Bay? She had days—she could count them—to sit on this porch with her coffee. What would those days bring? Had Gram really prepared herself to be completely moved out? Maybe she hadn’t, and her lack of preparation would delay things.
Emily tried not to think about it. She’d made a list of friends to call about the concert tonight, and Rocky had already agreed—she’d called him first. She was going to have lunch with Rachel and Clara. Then, she’d decided that just in case her plan didn’t work, she needed to have somewhere to live, so she planned to call about a few new condos over in White Stone.
Charlie told her yesterday that he’d be out all day, meeting with his architect and a few others. He was moving forward with the planning.
Her nervous energy prevented her from being able to sit, so Emily got up and went into the house, leaving the back door open to let in the breeze. She decided to get ready for the day.
Clara sat in the sand, wearing her bright yellow one-piece swimsuit with a little ruffle at the back, wriggling her toes as the water rushed in over them. “Did you see my sparkly nails?” she asked when Emily sat down beside her. Emily stretched out her legs the same way.
“I see them now,” she said. “They’re pretty.”
Clara scooted a little closer toward the next tiny wave as it rippled to shore. “I love Gram’s beach,” she said, looking at Emily through her pink sunglasses.
“What do you like so much about it?”
“I like that the water isn’t deep and I can swim in it. And when I get hungry, I can walk up to her house and have muffins.”
Emily smiled. “Does Gram always have muffins?”
“Yep. Because she knows I like them.”
“Where is Gram?” Rachel asked, walking toward them with a quilt and basket of sun lotions and towels.
“Visiting a friend,” Emily said, still wondering if that friend was the mysterious Winston.
She debated telling her sister about the locket she’d found. But Rachel was dealing with enough and Emily certainly wouldn’t tell her in front of Clara.
“I was hoping she’d be here,” Rachel said. “I want to enjoy this gorgeous day with her.”
The way she was looking at Emily, it was clear what her sister had meant. She wanted to spend time with Gram because the days with her at this beach and at this house were numbered, and then, when this little paradise was gone, they’d be left with just their own lives and all that came with them.
“I’m going to swing, Mommy,” Clara said, standing up and running down the beach to the tree swings.
“I’m glad you and Jeff are coming to the concert tonight,” Emily said.
Rachel nodded, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Something was there, on her lips, begging to come out.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“I need your advice.”
Emily grabbed a towel and sat down next to her sister in a foldout chair.
“I don’t know if it’s some sort of midlife crisis… I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it…”
“What?”
“I’m not happy with my life.”
Emily eyes bulged.
“I’m wondering if Jeff and I aren’t meant to be together.”
What in the world was Rachel talking about? As far as Emily was concerned, they were the perfect couple. “I thought you two were getting along. It looked like it the other night.”
&n
bsp; “We do get along! … As long we don’t talk about our issues. I want to go back to work. I want to be passionate about what I do, and I’m feeling very guilty because Jeff thinks that I should feel that passion by being with Clara—and I do—but I want to be a mom and figure out who I am at the same time. I can’t live feeling guilty anymore. It’s getting in the way of our happiness.”
Emily tried to see her point of view but it was so difficult because all she wanted was to have a family, a house full of children, and be there every minute for them. She’d never experienced that, so it was hard to understand why Rachel would want to do anything else.
“I’ve decided that I’m going to try to go back to work. If Jeff doesn’t understand that, then I’m sorry. We’ll see what happens from there. There’s an advertising agency in Irvington. I’ve thought about applying. It’s been years, though, since I’ve worked. What if I don’t have what it takes?”
“Then you’ll figure it out. You’re great at everything you do.”
“I worry about Clara. Will she wonder why I’m not there every day? Will she resent me putting her in preschool five days a week?”
Emily looked over at Clara. “She’s by herself a lot. She might enjoy being with other kids.”
“Last year, we tried to have another baby…”
“Really? You didn’t say anything.”
“I know. Only because it took us forever with Clara, remember? And this time, it hasn’t happened for us yet either. I was waiting to move forward with my own life until I knew if we were going to have another child.”
“You can’t keep your life on hold for the what-ifs. That’s not healthy either. But I’m not going to talk you into it. It’s your decision.”
“I know. Jeff worries that working will cause stress, keep me busy, and make it more difficult to have another child.”
“Do you want another child?”
“I wasn’t sure at first—only because of the pressure of conceiving. But I do want more. I think about you and me—where would we have been without each other? But I’d like to just be me for a little while first.” She fluttered her hands in the air, her frustration clear. “We won’t solve it today.” Rachel reached into the basket and pulled out a small cooler bag. “I brought sandwiches,” she said. “Let’s stop talking about all this heavy stuff and enjoy this day on our beach.” She called Clara over and they made room for her on the picnic blanket.
As they began setting out the food, Emily noticed a dog trotting toward them from down the beach. It looked like some sort of Lab mix—it was brown with a bit of white on its chest. As it got closer, she saw it looked dirty and unkempt.
“We’d better pick up the food,” Emily warned, nodding toward the dog. When she did, he made eye contact and began bounding toward them.
Rachel scooped up their plates and stood just as the dog came barreling over, landing on the blanket. It shook, sending muddy water all over them. Afterwards, it sat down, panting, and looked up at Emily.
“Hi, doggy,” Clara said, walking toward him.
“Careful, Clara,” Rachel said. “You don’t know that dog.”
Clara, clearly enamored, put her little hands on his face. When she did, the dog whipped around, sniffed her wrist, and planted a big wet kiss on her hand, making her giggle.
The dog put his snout in the air and sniffed until he found the trail of scent to the plates in Rachel’s hands. He looked at her, his little eyes seeming so sad.
“He looks hungry,” Emily said. “Here, give him my sandwich.” She took her plate from Rachel and set it down in front of the dog. With barely a breath, he inhaled the contents. Then, he stood up and pressed himself against Emily. “He’s so dirty. I wonder where he’s been.”
Rachel set her plate down on the blanket and the dog ate the plate clean. “He looks thin.”
“I love him,” Clara said, giving the dog a hug. The dog sniffed her ear and licked her again.
Emily patted her legs to get him to come over to her. She rubbed his cheeks. “He’s very sweet. We shouldn’t just let him go.”
“Maybe we should take his picture and post it around town. Someone might recognize him.”
Emily put her hand to her nose and grimaced. “Why don’t we give him a bath first? He smells.”
“Yay!” Clara said, jumping up and down. “Let’s give him a bath! That’ll be fun!”
“Okay,” Emily said with a laugh. “We’ll take him up to the house and wash him with the hose.”
“What should we call him?” Clara asked, walking beside him as he followed their lead.
Rachel picked up the blanket and shook the sand from it. “Oh no,” she said. “We aren’t naming him because we aren’t keeping him.”
“Let’s call him Flash because he came upon us like a flash,” Emily said, feeling a little excited to have found this sweet soul.
“Hi, Flash!” Clara said.
“Don’t encourage her,” Rachel said with a wink.
“I’ll tell you what,” Emily told Clara, “if nobody claims him, I’ll keep him and you can play with him any time you want.”
Clara cheered and clapped sending Flash into a jumping frenzy.
Emily left Flash outside with a little more food and ran in to get her shampoo. On her way through the kitchen, she grabbed a bowl from the cupboard.
When she got back outside, she put the bowl on the ground and Rachel turned the garden hose on low to fill it with water. Before she’d even finished, Flash had his nose in it, lapping it up.
“It doesn’t look like he’s eaten or had any water in a while,” Emily said. “Look at him.”
When he’d finished, she held out the shampoo bottle and let him have a sniff. “I’m going to put some of this on your back,” she said gently, popping open the cap and squirting it on him. Surprisingly, he let her, though his eyes were wary. She kept the hose on low and wet his back as she started to scrub.
Flash allowed Emily to lather his whole body and rinse him. Before she could dry him off, he shook like crazy, soaking her and Clara. Rachel had ducked out of the way just in time. They toweled him off together.
“I think we need to get him dog food,” Clara said, her little head turned to the side as she looked at him.
“We should,” Emily agreed. “He needs a collar too. Should we get dressed and take him with us down to the pet store?”
“Yes!” Clara cheered.
“Off we go then!”
It took a little coaxing to get Flash into the car but Emily did it. When they got to the pet store, she kept her hand on him to guide him, but he walked right beside her as they entered the store. Clara settled on a dark green collar with a silver bone engraved with “Flash” on the store’s engraving machine. They got a matching leash, a giant bag of dog food, a fleece cushion, some dog shampoo, two chew toys, and a rubber ball.
“What if he belongs to someone?” Rachel said, the dog sitting beside Clara’s booster seat in the car, his head out the open window as they made their way back to Gram’s.
“I hope he doesn’t,” Emily said. “I already love him.”
Eleven
“What in the world is that?” Gram said, her handbag hanging on the crook of her arm as she leaned on her cane. Emily was in her bedroom, getting ready to go to the concert with Charlie, and Flash was lying next to her, chewing his toy, his tail thumping on the floor.
“I thought you might need someone to keep you company,” Emily teased. She remembered how Gram used to pretend to be irritated by their family dog when Emily was a kid but deep down she loved that dog. She’d sobbed when it passed away.
“Tell me you didn’t buy me a dog.” She stood in her pressed skirt, her button-up shirt, and low boxy heels. Flash stopped chewing and looked up at her. She was shaking her head, her pearl earrings showing through her hair.
The sight of her unease was enough to make Emily laugh out loud and abandon her bantering. “No,” she said, still laughing. “This is Flash. As
far as we know, he’s my new dog. That’s unless someone claims him. Rachel’s going to put posters up. He came down the beach today all dirty.”
“Well,” Gram said, pursing her lips. Then, she walked out of the room muttering something.
“You look nice, by the way,” she called out to her. Flash’s ears went up and down.
“Thank you,” she called back with a playfully irritated tone.
Emily laughed again. Flash had put her in a good mood. She didn’t even worry about where Gram had been or who she’d seen.
Once Emily was ready, she and Flash walked downstairs to the kitchen where Gram was pinning her hair up. “Y’all want to eat somethin’ before you go tonight? I’m cookin’ regardless,” she said, washing her hands at the sink.
There was a knock on the door then, sending Flash into a frenzy of tail wagging and barking. He bounded toward the sound, his nails causing him to slip on the hardwoods. He slid to the front where he got a firm hold on himself and barked like crazy.
Emily opened the door to find Charlie smiling at her.
Flash bucked around their legs. He threw his snout up under Charlie’s hand, nudging him for attention.
“Hi,” she said. “This is Flash. I think he’s my new dog.”
“I’m gone one day and you find yourself a dog?” Charlie said as he bent down and patted the dog’s head.
“He sort of found Clara.” She let Charlie inside, Flash still hopping around with excitement behind him as he entered. “Are you hungry? Gram wants to cook us something.”
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“It isn’t!” Gram called from the kitchen. “I’m makin’ chicken and dumplin’s. I’ve already got it all made up in the fridge. I just have to cook it.”