by Jenny Hale
“That’s good. I just don’t want him to misread the distance from shore and get too far out. He’s never lived near the ocean before.”
“You’re a good mom.” Gladys didn’t say it, but Callie had been around her enough to know what she meant by the silence that followed. Gladys always supported Olivia, helping her in any way she could after Wyatt’s dad left. Olivia had worried aloud on occasion that Wyatt would grow up without any male role models. It bothered her. How much easier it would be to have a man in his life that could take him out to the beach, swim out with him, lift him up if a wave toppled him over, toss him in the air and play with him.
Over the years, Olivia had been honest about it, but she never wanted any pity, so she didn’t let on that she needed anything. But Gladys was always right there. She’d told Olivia not to hide the past from Wyatt, and to answer any questions he might have because, as Gladys always said, “The truth will set you free.”
“It’s nice having her so close,” Olivia admitted, once Gladys had gone outside. “It’ll be good for Wyatt to have family nearby with the two of us working all the time. Luke being around is helping too. He’s good with kids.”
Callie nodded. “Things will settle down. We’ve had a lot to do with the house and once we get into the swing of things, it should get easier. But you’re right. Having Gladys here does help. And whenever she came to visit us, I missed her every time she left.” Callie smiled at the memory.
Callie got Luke another beer, the empty pizza box still on the table outside between their plates. She gathered them up to take them into the house, but Luke asked her to leave them. She set it all down in a pile at the end of the table. Olivia had taken Wyatt in for a bath and bedtime, and the rain still hadn’t materialized, so they’d stayed outside, lit a candle, and continued talking.
“It’s humid,” Callie said, tilting her head back to feel the wind on her face. “It reminds me of one night when I was young. I’d gotten a telescope for my birthday and I’d waited until well past my bedtime for it to get dark so I could see the stars and the moon. Mom had called me inside a couple of times, but I only barely heard her, completely transfixed on that telescope.”
Luke was leaning on his elbow, his hand in his chin, those eyes alight with interest.
“I’d focused in on a beautiful crater on the moon when I heard her swishing through the grass.” She could still remember: The only light was the small porch light that was swarming with insects, the air breezy as it was now. “When I heard her coming, I braced myself because it finally registered that she’d been calling me and I thought she was going to be really angry. But she wasn’t. She was smiling. She came up behind me and pulled my hair off my neck before speaking into my ear. ‘What do you see?’ she asked.”
Luke was smiling as if a thought had just occurred to him, and it took her out of the story. “What?” she asked.
“I’m imagining what your mother saw,” he said. “She probably looked out of the window and watched you tinkering with the telescope, all serious and engrossed. I saw that same face when you were painting. That’s why she didn’t get mad. I’ll bet she could tell you weren’t ignoring her.”
With a punch of nostalgia, Callie said, “You’re probably right. I’d never really thought about it until now. I just remember that smile and I feel so lucky to have that memory. She didn’t smile a whole lot after my dad left, and I tried not to forget what it looked like. I showed her the moon and we stayed outside for ages that night looking at the stars, taking our time. I can’t remember a lot of what I saw through that lens—it was so long ago—but I can still remember her smile.”
“That’s a great story,” he said.
A lull of silence fell between them as the sea roared. “The ocean looks rough tonight,” Callie finally said, turning toward it. She held her beer but didn’t drink it, worried that she’d had just enough to make her a bit too honest, and that after spending this evening with him, she might let him know how great she thought he was.
“It’s perfect for surfing,” he said, the fire from the candle dancing in his eyes. The air was thick with heat, the sky black, without a hint of light; the clouds were rolling in. He took a drink of his beer and set it on the table, those blue eyes now on her. “Have you ever been surfing?”
Callie shook her head, her attention again on the ocean, unable to look into his eyes for fear she’d feel that familiar buzz of excitement. She knew better than to allow herself to feel that way because she’d only get hurt. But then she turned toward him, thinking how, if this were all a game for him, just a chase, he certainly was a good actor. She didn’t want to think about how much experience he’d had courting ladies.
“I’d love to take you surfing. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Well, if we’re going to go to your nephew’s birthday party, I’ll be shopping for a present and something to wear,” she said, steering the topic of conversation elsewhere.
There was a crack and then boom, startling them both. Only then did she notice dark thunderheads above them, hidden by the blackness of night. The sea roared angrily with disapproval.
After that, it got eerily quiet, the sound of the waves the only noise. And then there were a few taps on the table around them. Callie stood up, gathering the trash and empty plates, and Luke blew out the candle, as the raindrops started falling faster, getting them wet.
“Quick! Grab those beach towels!” she said, laughing despite the rush, as she pointed to the towels that Olivia had hung over a few chairs to dry after Wyatt had been out swimming. She threw the pizza box in the outside bin, abandoning the plates so she could make a run for it. The taps were followed by a beating rain that made Callie feel like she was inside one of the rain sticks she’d played with as a kid.
With a quick swipe, Luke grabbed the towels, throwing them over his arm.
They ran up to the back door.
“It’s locked!” she said in disbelief. “I’ll bet Olivia did it out of habit. She always does that,” she said, knocking. No one came. “She’s probably upstairs with Wyatt. We’ll have to go around to the front.”
They left the porch, plunging themselves into the pouring rain. It was sheeting down, causing her vision to blur. Callie wasn’t familiar enough yet with the landscape to run easily in the dark, and she stumbled on something. But before she could fall, she felt strong arms around her, lifting her up and nearly taking her breath away. Just as she could process it, the sensation was gone and they were running again, but Luke had her hand. Moving blindly, the sound of the rain and thunder in her ears, her senses were on high alert. Luke’s grasp on her hand was strong yet gentle as he guided her through the darkness, making her feel safe despite the surroundings. His breath was short and fast. They got to the front, taking the stairs as quickly as they could, another clap of thunder booming.
As the coastal wind blew harder, the house started to sway. It was designed that way to help it withstand the storms that the Atlantic threw at it. But that didn’t make the feeling any less concerning. Trying not to think about it, she opened the front door and they nearly fell inside.
They stood there, dripping wet. Luke’s gaze started to travel down her body, but he seemed to recover himself and drew his focus back to her face and smiled. “I forgot the candle,” he said, dumping the towels on the floor, and they laughed quietly, both of them still a little winded.
“It’s fine,” she said. She grabbed a beach towel from the basket where they kept them. “Here,” she said holding it out to him. “Use it to keep your seat dry on the way home. I’ll get it back at the birthday party.”
When she said that, he looked a little disappointed and she wondered if he might have been hoping to stay longer. Luke moved closer to her, looking down into her eyes. “I had fun tonight,” he said, his words heavy with unsaid thoughts. Did he feel like she did—that she’d never felt more alive than she did running through the darkness with him? She leaned in just a little, their bodies so
close, wondering if he might try to kiss her again. But did she want that? What if she’d just been swept up in the moment? Callie took a step back.
“Will you be okay driving in this?” she asked.
Looking a little unsure, Luke took in a breath. “Yeah, it’s just a storm,” he said, toweling his hair. “It’ll probably pass before I’m even home.”
“Okay,” she said with a thoughtful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Ten
“Look at this,” Olivia said from the other room as the deliverymen finished the appliance installation. She came into the kitchen where Callie was, holding an old lockbox about the size of a shoebox. It was brown with a keyhole on the front, the hinges thick with dust.
Wyatt was beside her with a little hammer, both he and his mother wearing matching safety glasses. “I know this wasn’t in the plan for today. I’ve been working to get rid of those built-in shelves like we’d talked about while the workers are here so they can fill in any missing drywall. I’m doing one and Wyatt’s doing the other. Take a look at what we found.” She held up the box.
“It was in the bottom of the built-in,” Wyatt said.
“Apparently, the bottom of each one—the part that juts out—is hollow and accessible by lifting the last shelf out,” Olivia explained with excitement.
“Is it treasure?” Wyatt asked.
“I don’t know,” Callie said, sitting down at the table with her coffee. “What’s written on that brass tag there?” She pointed just above the keyhole.
Olivia set it down and squinted at the tag, running her finger over it to shine it up. “It looks like ‘FM’.”
“Could M be for McFarlin?” Callie took a sip of the coffee. She’d made it while she waited to sign off on the delivery, the warm, creamy liquid melting away her aches from working so hard yesterday. “F for Frederick.” Callie jiggled the lock. “I wonder where the key is.”
“I wonder why it was left here, if it is in fact his. Wouldn’t it be of importance to him or Alice? Unless it’s empty…” Olivia lifted it to her ear and gave it a shake. “It sounds like something’s in it.”
Wyatt twisted the latch, but it wouldn’t budge.
“They left the lockbox and that journal that you found. Wonder what else they left.” The deliverymen quietly interrupted, handing Olivia a clipboard for signature.
“I’m sure Alice had hidden them and, after she died, no one knew they were here.”
“The fact that they were hidden makes me wonder what’s in them,” Olivia said quietly, scrawling her name across the paper on the clipboard, raising her eyebrows in curiosity. “Maybe there are some family secrets,” she teased. She put the box on the floor of the pantry and shut the door.
Callie walked over to the oven as Olivia handed the paperwork back to the crew, thanking them. “Oh, oh! We have fire!” she said with excitement. She turned the knobs of the brand new gas stove that had just been delivered, along with the giant refrigerator. They must have been the first delivery of the day because they’d been there right at eight-thirty in the morning.
After the deliverymen left, Callie sat back down. She put her face in her hands. “I shouldn’t have let Luke stay so long last night,” she said, her heart telling her something else. She wished he were there right now, holding her hand like he had last night. She missed his smile already and couldn’t wait to see him tonight.
“No, I think you just let yourself relax, let things come naturally,” Olivia said, grinning.
“Now we have this party tonight…” Callie lifted her mug to her lips to keep from smiling.
“It’ll be fine. Plus, Wyatt’s absolutely thrilled about it.” She opened the fridge and freezer, peering inside at the new space.
There was a knock at the front door and they both looked at each other.
Olivia shut the freezer and went to get it while Callie got up, leaving her coffee, not going with her to answer the door just in case it was Luke, but unable to sit with all her nervous energy. Instead, she wiped down the stove and the new granite countertops they’d picked out. They’d chosen them because the light caramel and cream specks on them reminded them of the wet grains of sand on the shore just after the tide went out. She needed something to do to keep her mind off last night.
Last week, they’d painted the kitchen a beachy pink color, the stainless steel appliances coordinating with the silver metallic seashells they’d put up on the wall. They’d also added whitewashed cabinets, demolishing the dark wood ones that had been there since probably the 1970s. With the new tan tiles under her feet, she stood back, admiring the look of it all.
“Callie,” Olivia said, entering the kitchen with a man. He had dark hair, a thin build, and a smile that would put any stranger at ease. “This is Aiden Parker. He’s finalized the plans for the back porches.”
Callie walked over and shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. Olivia had driven up to the cottage the day Aiden had come to survey the property, but Callie was still settling things back in Richmond, and she’d told Olivia to just go with her instincts on the plans. Callie trusted her more than anyone else, and she knew that Olivia would make a perfect choice regarding the back porches. After seeing Aiden’s initial plans when she’d first arrived at The Beachcomber, she realized she’d been right.
Callie dried her hands on a towel and stepped over to them to give them her full attention. “Olivia’s told me a lot about you.”
Aiden cast an amused glance over to Olivia. “That’s scary,” he said with a grin. “Considering most of our stories have something to do with college parties…”
Olivia and Aiden had gone to college together, and he’d lived in the same apartment building on the floor just under hers. He’d been the first person Olivia had met when she’d gotten to college, which happened to be her birthday. He’d taken her out that night, and every year after until they graduated. With life having pulled them in different directions after graduation, Olivia had said she was glad to have a chance to see him again.
Callie jokingly scolded Olivia with a look to let her know that she’d held out on her. “Well, clearly she wasn’t telling me the right stories, then.”
Aiden laughed and looked over at Olivia again. When he did, it was clear by the friendliness in his face that their shared experiences were all happy ones. “I’m glad she asked me to do this. I haven’t been back to the Outer Banks in ages. I’ve forgotten how great it is.”
“Did you used to vacation here?” Callie asked.
“I lived here for quite a few years.” He peeked out the back window, changing course. “I think adding the back porches will really change this place.”
“Thank you for giving us such a deal,” Olivia said.
Aiden had done all the plans for free. They were only paying for the crew, which, given their budget, was still a hefty price tag, but the result would be amazing.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Anything for a friend.” He smiled warmly at her. “Mind if I run out to the car? I’m going to grab my laptop and take a few measurements and photos. When I’m done, I’ll be able to show you a mock-up of what it will look like.”
“Oh, that’ll be wonderful,” Callie said with excitement, but before she could say anything more, there was a click and a hum—the most glorious sounding hum ever. She ran over to the floor vent and stood on it, feeling a rush of cool air on her bare feet. “Air’s on!” she said to Olivia, unable to control her happiness. The HVAC people had been upgrading the outdoor unit this morning as well. Things were moving right along, and she couldn’t be more thrilled.
After she’d seen the mock-up, Callie left Olivia to tend to Aiden while she got busy working in the formal living room. With all the rough spots sanded, and the painting started, she was just finishing up. She poured light blue paint into the tray and slid her roller through it, rolling it back and forth to get the excess off. Then she pushed it along the wall, the beautiful color transf
orming the space right in front of her eyes.
Callie had gotten the other half of the room done before Gladys let herself in. She had suggested Gladys come over if she got bored, so they could chat while she worked.
“Oh! It looks nice!” she said, tottering into the room. “It’s going to be just lovely. I can hardly take all this excitement with you all across the street, the changes to the house, the thrill of the bed and breakfast and all the delightful visitors it will draw… It’s all just wonderful!” She dropped herself down into the chair.
“This house has been very quiet for a long time after Alice closed the bed and breakfast. But I understood. She was aging, you know. Her hips didn’t work like they used to, and she just couldn’t do all that running around anymore.”
“We found something else of hers,” Callie said as she climbed down the small ladder she’d been using to paint up near the trim at the ceiling. “We think. It’s an old lockbox.”
Gladys frowned. “Really? Anything in it?”
Callie shook her head and went to get the box from the kitchen pantry where they’d stowed it away.
“Look,” she said, coming back in with it. She sat down in a chair and scooted closer to Gladys, turning the box around. “It says ‘FM’. That could be her brother.”
Gladys rubbed her hands together, thinking. “It would make sense. Frederick McFarlin.”
“We should get it back to him,” Callie said, moving closer and wiping the initials to try to clear the old brass again, but she was unsuccessful. The metal had aged with time, the shiny finish she kept striving to get, gone. “But there were so many Frederick McFarlins when we looked the other night, remember?”
Gladys tucked her hair back behind her ear dramatically. “I might know someone who could get us in touch with him.”
“Oh?” Callie had picked up the roller again to paint but set it back down.