by Jenny Hale
He smiled at her, and she felt her limbs go weak. “Strangers are just people. We’re all similar in many ways. I enjoy finding those similarities.”
“It seems so easy for you.”
“It’s like chipping away old paint. Sometimes, you find a color you never knew was there. People put up what they want others to see, but if you strip away that façade, you find unexpected pieces of their personalities sometimes.”
“I’d never thought of it that way.”
He smiled again, that almost doting look showing in his eyes. “See? You just chipped away my paint. You found out why I like to meet new people.”
She wished she’d have had a chance to see how many more pieces of paint she’d have been able to chip away, had things gone differently between them.
“Do y’all mind helping me set the table?” her mom called from inside.
“I’d be happy to,” Jake said, opening the door wider so that Faith could enter first. She walked under his arm and went inside.
At moments like this Jake was so personable and modest that she forgot all about the lifestyle he had. She could only imagine what he’d paid for the dishes she’d eaten off of at his house, yet here he was, setting the table with paper plates and napkins, not a care in the world. She loved that about him. But it wasn’t enough.
After helping her mom, Jake excused himself to go downstairs and cook with Scott. When Faith went back out to the porch to sit with Nan, she could hear them making small talk down below. Jake laughed at something Scott said, and it sent a plume of happiness through her.
Nan looked out toward the ocean. “I couldn’t have asked for a more lovely evening.”
“The weather is nice,” Faith agreed.
“Mmm. I’m not talking entirely about the weather. It’s fantastic to have everyone here. I’m so glad you girls are together again.”
“Thanks to you,” Faith said with a smile.
“It’s hard work keeping this family together. “
Nan could always keep everyone together. What was her secret?
“When did you know that my grandfather was The One?” Faith asked her.
“Where’s this coming from?” she said, her words coming out in an affectionate laugh.
“You seem to know just how to keep us all together, and I just wondered how you made it work so well.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose that it was the understanding that it won’t all be perfect. So the imperfections were what made it great.” She turned her rocker to face Faith. “He burned toast,” she said. “I don’t know how he did it, but he did. It made the whole house smell. I can still remember the swirling smoke floating up around the lamps. It was awful. All he’d had to do was ask, and I’d have made it for him. Instead, John insisted on putting bread in the pan and then busying himself with something. I tried to tell him to stand there with it, but he never did. And then, he’d leave for work and I’d have to smell that smoke all day.” She laughed and then became serious. “I’d give anything to smell his burned toast.”
Faith grinned, but her heart ached for Nan. “So when did you know?” she asked again.
“I knew quite early on,” she said. “There’s always that possibility that it won’t all work out. It isn’t rainbows and fairytales. But I knew right away that when I was around him, I wanted to know more about him, and I liked what I already knew. That was all I needed. I just took it day by day.” They rocked a while, the sound of the ocean like a lullaby. “Jake sure does get along with everyone, doesn’t he,” she said, changing the subject and looking down her nose to peer over at the two men as they steamed clams and grilled fish down below.
“Yes. He does.”
“So, Jake,” Nan said as they all sat squeezed in around the small dinner table, “what brought you back to the Outer Banks?” They’d been talking for what seemed like hours. Jake had now leaned back in his chair, his arm propped up on the back of it.
“Opportunity,” he grinned. “I wanted to build here because the landscape and culture provided a unique obstacle for development. People want large-scale facilities with all the bells and whistles, and I enjoyed the challenge. I love it here.”
“I can see why,” Nan said.
Faith knew that Nan didn’t have the whole story about what Jake saw in the Outer Banks, and he knew that too, but when she said she could see why he loved it, Faith noticed something on his face. He was thinking about something. Did he feel guilty misleading her? He’d heard her thoughts about the growth of the area when they’d taken their boat ride. He knew how she felt.
Isabella asked for more milk and both Scott and Casey got up at the same time. Casey grinned at him, and sat back down, her face giving away all of her feelings.
When Scott returned with Isabella’s drink, her mom said, “Dinner was great, boys.” She was right: Dinner was great, but not just the food. For so many years, it’d been just the girls. It was nice to have Jake and Scott there. They added an element to the conversation that had been missing.
After dinner, Scott, Casey, and Isabella went for a walk on the beach, Nan was asleep in the chair in the living room, and Faith and her mom were cleaning up dinner dishes.
“Go hang out with Jake,” her mom whispered. “I’ll be fine cleaning up. “It’s rude to leave him sitting on his own.” He’d tried to help, but she’d shooed him away too.
Faith looked over at him. He was on the sofa. Any minute he’d get up to leave, she was sure of it. So she walked over and asked if he’d like to sit outside a while. Perhaps he, too, was trying to be polite because he agreed. They went out to sit in the rocking chairs. They rocked in silence, and in that moment, Faith realized it didn’t matter how her life unfolded. She’d take this memory here and now.
TWENTY
Everyone had gone to bed, and she and Jake were still sitting in the rockers. Faith pulled her hair over one shoulder, the texture of it like yarn from the salty air. She wondered why Jake hadn’t gotten up to leave, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t tired anyway.
“This is what I love about the Outer Banks,” he said.
“How can you love sitting on this porch, looking at this beach, when you want to knock everything down and fill the beaches with towering hotels?”
“I meant that I loved the view. And I can have this view from a towering hotel.”
As she watched the thoughts surface behind his eyes again, something struck her: Everything she knew about Jake went against this idea that he liked all of the developments he was planning. He did handyman work for fun, he shopped at the local surf shops, he took her family on a boat ride to that little, secluded beach. There wasn’t much about his personality that demonstrated that he liked the kinds of places he was building. So, what was driving him? It was the same thing that had driven her to be successful in her job, to build herself up, to be strong. Failure. He was trying to overcome failure. Was he trying to prove a point to his ex-wife that he could do bigger, better things?
“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing about those places reminds me of you. There’s not a bit of your character in those developments. The Tides? That’s not you. You don’t eat stuffy meals with cloth napkins. You can, and you have, but you wouldn’t choose it. You don’t want these high-rise hotels and resorts any more than I do.”
“Don’t try to tell me what I want. I had enough of that with my ex.”
“I’m not telling you what you want. I’m pointing out what I know. You don’t have to fluff out your feathers with me. I do think you’re good enough. I think you’re great, actually. You don’t need anything fancy to prove that to me.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He just turned and looked straight ahead.
Faith looked out into the pitch black of the ocean, the sky like a bowl of stars above them. “I’ve never been to any other beach and that’s okay. I’ll get there. All my life, I’ve wanted to see Key West. But I’ve only jus
t now realized why I haven’t gone. It’s because, without someone to share it with, it’s just a place like anywhere else. You can turn the Outer Banks into something different, but unless you have someone to share it with, it’s just another resort.”
He looked at her, his thoughts evident. Then, he turned his head back toward the sound of the sea. She could tell that he wasn’t angry. He was just taking it all in.
“How long have you been single?” she asked.
“Two years.” Then, without warning, he began to talk. It was so surprising that Faith almost didn’t take in the words. “My divorce with my ex-wife was final two years ago. I didn’t give her enough attention,” he admitted. “Rebecca didn’t like that. She wanted me to make these grand gestures all the time to show my love for her. She asked me why I never got her flowers and why I didn’t have champagne on a random Tuesday. I’m learning what to do to show people I care about them. And I don’t always know. I don’t know how to be a good husband, necessarily. She pointed that fact out to me every day before we finally divorced.”
Faith understood his side of things. She didn’t know what to do either. What was so interesting to her, though, was that flowers and champagne would be nice, but she didn’t have to have those as a token of a man’s affection. Jake had a wonderful ability to see the best in things, and she enjoyed just being with him. It didn’t matter what they were doing.
“I don’t think you should take her criticisms personally,” she said, trying to find the right words. “I think it was more a difference in perspectives. I think you know how to connect with people. You just have to find the right person to be with. And when you do, you’ll find that you don’t have to work so hard.”
He sat quietly, clearly considering what she’d just said. He was contemplating something.
She grabbed on to the arms of the rocker for something to do with her hands in the silence. “Ow!” Faith yelped, pulling her finger to her lips to squelch a sharp pain. Something had just jabbed her finger. As she pulled her hand back to look at it, she realized she’d gotten a pretty big splinter. It must have come off the handle of the rocking chair. When her focus broadened, she realized that Jake had stood up and was now kneeling in front of her, concern on his face.
“I think I got a splinter,” she said, holding out her finger for him to view. He took her hand gently to get a better look, and then blew on the reddened area softly. It sent a shiver up her arm. She swallowed.
“We need to get that out so it won’t get infected.”
“Mom brought a first aid kit,” she remembered out loud. “There may be something in there we can use.”
“You need to find a needle.” He still had her hand in his, and she wished she didn’t have to get up because he’d have to let go.
“I know exactly where I can find one.” She stood up, and he walked with her inside. With her good hand, she dug around in the front pocket of Nan’s handbag. “She always keeps a little sewing kit in here. I know, because I had a button come off once, and she got her little plastic kit out and sewed it back on for me there and then. She told me she never leaves home without it.”
A quiet laugh bubbled up in Jake’s chest. “She’s funny, your Nan.” He laughed again. “Every day, she totes around a sewing kit in her bag just in case she needs it, but you’ve only ever used it once in your life.”
Faith felt the edge of the kit under her fingers and pulled it out, his comment making her giggle too. “It is funny, isn’t it? And I could’ve gone without that button that day, but she’d sewn it on.” She opened the case and pulled a needle from a tiny paper envelope inside. She held it out and, with a grin, Jake took it.
He sat down on the sofa near the lamp, and turned her hand over on his thigh under the light, moving her finger back and forth to examine it first. Then, he lowered the needle toward her. “This might poke a little,” he said.
The sting of the needle as it penetrated her skin caused her to squeeze her eyes shut. She was stuck in a kneeling position on the floor, leaning her arms on his knees. She rested her chin on one arm, opening her eyes and looking up at him. It was nice. She liked being close to him.
“Sorry,” he said, poking her finger again.
“It’s okay.” She didn’t care whether it hurt or not at that moment. She hoped it would take him all night to get that splinter out.
Another poke. “Almost got it. Do you have any tweezers?”
“Yes. I have to get them out of my makeup bag.” She hopped up and ran into her room, threw open her makeup bag and dug around with her good hand until she found them. Then she hurried back. “Here.” She sat back down as he took her hand in his again.
He softly rooted around with the tweezers. “Does that hurt?”
“No. You’re very gentle,” she said with a smile.
“Good.” She noticed how his concentration had caused lines to form between his eyes, his brows pulled down, and a focused frown on his face. Then, that relaxed, happy look filtered through his features and he set down her tweezers. “Got it.” With her hand still in his, he put her finger to his lips and kissed it. “All better.” She wanted so badly to feel that kiss on her lips. He stood up, helping her up as well, and then thumbed through the first aid kit.
“Thank you,” she said as he ripped open a packet of cleaning wipes. He pulled out the tiny towelette and shook it free before taking her hand again to wipe her finger. When he was finished, he wrapped a small bandage around it.
“I should sand that rocking chair and repaint the arm.”
“You’d probably do it right now if I didn’t stop you.”
“I don’t have my work truck or I would,” he grinned.
They were standing together, face to face. He was looking down at her, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in amusement, and even though he wasn’t touching her, she had an ache within her to put her hands on his face and feel him next to her. She caught herself urging him with her eyes to touch her, and he seemed to read it perfectly. He reached out and dragged his fingers down her arm, giving her goose bumps. His gaze followed the invisible trail he’d left with his finger and then he made eye contact. He could tell his affect on her.
His breathing was steady as he took a step closer to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him, waiting, hoping he’d kiss her. He looked as though he were deliberating.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered, her body still in the moment, her hands moving up around his neck to help him along.
“I’m thinking how much I want to kiss you, and it’s taking all my willpower not to.”
“Um hm.” She totally agreed but wasn’t using her willpower tonight. She lifted herself up on her tiptoes in an attempt to be face to face.
He leaned in, resting his face next to hers—cheek to cheek—his breath near her neck, the corners of their mouths so close that it almost felt like the start of a kiss. “I don’t want to screw this up.” He pulled back and looked at her, as if waiting for her response to his honesty.
“You won’t.” Even with a deep breath, she couldn’t slow her heartbeat.
“I’ve messed this up between us a few times now. You deserve for me to do this the right way.”
He put his hands on her face and very softly kissed her lips. It took everything she had to be still and not push him down on the sofa. The thought surprised her. It wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t help it.
“I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” he asked.
“A date?” She smiled.
“Yes.” His face was playful, almost excited. “A date.”
That word “date” had brought to mind her conversation with Casey when they’d first arrived. She’d forgotten all about that until now. That conversation she’d had with Casey seemed like years ago. How far they’d come since they’d arrived. “We’ve been on a date already remember? You took me to Bodie Island Lighthouse.”
Jake shook his head. “I was thinking
about a real date. That was more of a day out.”
“Call it what you want,” she said. “I’ll call it a date.”
The way she was feeling at this moment, she knew she could talk to him when things made her uncomfortable. It seemed so easy now. She could feel the excitement bubbling up, but she didn’t want to admit to herself how pleased his proposition made her or his reasons for being so happy. Last time he’d been this happy, he’d dropped the bomb on her that he’d be leveling two local restaurants. She was afraid to be too hopeful.
He grinned, a little chuckle of laughter escaping his lips. “Well?”
“Yes. I’d love to go on another date.”
“How about I pick you up the day after tomorrow at eight in the morning?”
“Eight in the morning?” She giggled. “Are we going to breakfast?”
“Better.” He looked at her a long time, the suspense making her crazy. Then, he said, “Well, I should probably go. It’s getting late. Thank you for having me over.”
She didn’t want him to go. She wanted to grab him by the shirttails and drag him back to her room. “You’re welcome. You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”
He shook his head, a grin playing on his lips. He started toward the door, pausing for Faith to join him.
She walked him down the stairs, and he held her hands as he said goodbye. Then she sat on the last step as he got in his car and backed out of the drive. His headlights caused spots in her eyes so she stayed there even after he’d gone until they’d cleared. As she took in the sea air, barely noticing the wind anymore after a week there, she closed her eyes, and replayed tonight in her mind. It had been a good night. A great night even. Before it had started, she’d worried about him coming over, wondered where they’d be after what had happened at Sunset Grille, but she was learning to just enjoy the moment.
She sat there a long time until her thoughts had moved from tonight to what it had felt like to sit on that step at her childhood cottage. Those feelings were a part of her that she’d left behind so many years ago, but they were still there, right at her grasp, and she didn’t want to let them go. Just like Nan’s photographs, the smells, the air—it all told a story, her story. And she wasn’t finished yet. She didn’t know how, but maybe she could plan the next family trip. Maybe they could all get together regularly. She might even be able to include Jake. With another deep breath, she made her way up to the cottage door and went inside for the night.