by Jenny Hale
The line buzzed in silence for a moment, and then Sasha said, “What if I left the job search for a while and worked with you?”
Alice lay back on the sofa, causing Einstein to shift in his crate. The idea was making her prickle with excitement. “I couldn’t afford you.”
“You said your gramps lived above the shop, right? If we both lived upstairs and we split whatever profits were left after investing in the business, you could afford me. We could get by until we made enough that you could pay me a salary.”
“That would be an awfully big favor…”
“It might be just what I need,” Sasha said, excitement but also a near desperation in her voice. “We could wake up every morning and walk out onto the beach, dig our toes in the sand, and throw balls to Einstein, help Henry make sandcastles. But best of all, we could leave this place behind and make a fresh start—just the girls.”
The idea did appeal to Alice. “No guys,” she clarified. “No one to cloud our judgment and get in our way.”
“Relationships are too difficult,” Sasha agreed.
Alice knew why she wanted to get away, but she was baffled as to why Sasha was so eager to leave, especially with the possibility of employment at the biggest advertising agency in town. “Want to tell me why you’re so happy to get out of here?” she asked. “You’ve been looking a little worried lately. Is something bothering you?”
There was a cough at the end of the line and silence before Sasha came back. “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong. I just want to get away for a while.”
“I know you…”
“Then you should know that I’m fine! I just want to enjoy the summer with my favorite people: you and Henry.”
She let it go, although she still didn’t believe her. “Running a business might be harder than it sounds at times,” Alice worried aloud.
“Of course it will. But it might just be worth it.”
“And you’d leave everything to do this with me?”
“Yep. I can’t be here anymore, Alice.”
“Why? Is there some reason you’re not telling me?” she asked, trying one more time to give her friend the opportunity to share what was on her mind. She waited in the hush that followed, wondering if Sasha was struggling with how to say whatever it was she was thinking.
Finally, she said, “I have my reasons. I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, let’s focus on you and what you’re going to do. If you want to keep the bike shop, just know that I’ll be right there with you—all you have to do is ask.”
* * *
The next morning, while Henry and Einstein ran around the backyard of her childhood home, chasing the new frisbees that her father had gotten them as a surprise, Alice sat across from him looking into those familiar green eyes with gold flecks—just like Gramps’s.
“You know, your gramps had a good handle on people; he got a gut reaction the moment he met them. He always knew that you were like him, from the time you were just a little thing.”
Alice grinned, trailing her fingers along the kitchen table where she’d spent countless mornings before school, her nose in a book to avoid the fact that she was alone most of the time. In those teenage years, it had made her feel different—growing up with just her dad, the house completely silent around them—but now she wondered if the solitary environment had been preparing her, making her strong, so that she could tap into that strength now that she had Henry and she had to raise him by herself.
“I could tell you had a similar personality to his, too,” her father said from across the table. “There was a light in your eyes whenever you were going to see him, and I knew it was because your spirit had found its match with him. There are very few people in life who make you feel that way, you know?”
Alice nodded. Her dad was right: the very minute Gramps met someone, it was as though he’d known them for years. He’d throw his head back and laugh at something they said or put his hand on their shoulder if they revealed a worry. It only took a few minutes and Gramps would have them sharing things about their families or their jobs. He was a great listener. She knew that she was like that with her own friends, but would she be as great at it as he was with strangers? Would it come naturally for her?
“That’s why he left the shop to you. He knew you’d know what to do with it.”
Alice remembered the letter from Gramps, his words etched into her consciousness: I’m giving you the shop, Alice, rather than your dad, because he’s already lived his life, and I don’t know if he’d be ready to take on something like that right when he should be settling down. You and Henry should have it—I know your dad would agree—so that you can decide the best use for it.
But regardless of Gramps’s wishes, Alice had felt like she couldn’t make a decision about the property without first discussing it with her dad, so she’d called him right away to talk it out.
Her father slid a cup of coffee toward her. He’d learned to make coffee some time after Alice’s mother had died. She remembered crying one day because she didn’t have sugar and her mother had always put sugar in her coffee. Her father had gone out that very minute and bought her some. Then he came home and made her a cup, and it was the best coffee Alice had tasted. She told him that it was just as good as Mom’s, and she saw the way pride filled his face. Until that moment, she hadn’t come out of her own grief long enough to realize that, yes, he was grieving, but he was also terrified about how to finish raising her. After that, they had coffee every morning, and she talked instead of reading, even before she left for school. So now, when she wanted to talk, he made coffee.
“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” he said, as he took a seat and lifted his own cup for a sip.
The sun came through the window at a slant, illuminating the grains in the surface of the table. She traced the circular pattern with her finger. “But I’ve never done anything like that before. What if I fail?”
He set his mug down with a clunk and leaned on his elbows, a grin on his face. She always made him smile. “You might fail,” he said simply. “But you might surprise yourself.” He straightened up, his chest filling with air as he collected his thoughts, clearly deciding what he wanted to say. He always did that.
“The one thing I think about all the time when I look back on my life,” he said, “is that I wish I’d have taken more chances, not worried so much. I wish I hadn’t played it so safe. Your mom wanted to go to Jamaica on vacation, and I kept telling her that I was concerned about spending that kind of money when something in the house could break or go wrong. With all the bills we had from her cancer, that little trip to Jamaica would’ve been a drop in the bucket, and I always wish I’d have taken her. I have a whole lot of what-ifs in life, and they eat me alive.” He picked his mug up and looked down at his coffee, clearly collecting himself, tears brimming briefly. Then he met her eyes. “If you want to try it, then do. What’s the worst that could happen? You could still sell it. It’s prime real estate.”
The excitement began to swell in her chest like a swarm of butterflies. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re always right.”
“Yes. I am,” he said seriously, before giving her a wink.
Chapter Four
It had only taken a phone call, and, with the terms of the real estate contract nearing renewal anyway, the bike shop was off the market. From that moment on, things moved along quite quickly and Alice found herself having packed up and left her empty apartment, which she’d subletted to two students studying for their master’s degrees. And now, here she was in that glorious childhood retreat, where the sound of the ocean was always there to greet her and the summer breeze seemed to go on forever.
The whole way there, Alice’s thoughts were on all things ice cream. While the coastal wind whipped through her car, her hair blowing out the window—Henry and Einstein asleep in the backseat, the heat having its lulling effect on them—she’d been going over different words and their associations for possible na
mes, running through angles for photograph opportunities to use in her advertising, and deciding what would need to be updated if she wanted to make the shop enticing to visitors. Alice already had a mental to-do list a mile long but she tried not to let her uncertainty about whether or not she could pull it off overwhelm her.
Truthfully, she’d never tested her marketing abilities; she didn’t have a clue how the public would receive her ideas. She’d done some online research and jotted down a few thoughts, but ultimately, it was time to go full speed and put them into play without spending too much time worrying about it. The heavy summer season was about to begin, and they’d have to move quickly if they wanted to capitalize on that. It was imperative, actually, because, given the amount Alice wanted to spend for renovations, she needed to get her investment back as soon as possible so they’d have enough money to live on.
She’d spent the whole drive thinking about it all, but it was mainly because if she didn’t use her mental energy for planning, her mind would drift back to the image in her side-view mirror of her father, waving goodbye, as they pulled out of Richmond for the last time. He’d met them for coffee before they left town this morning. She’d hugged him quickly so as not to get all blubbery, but he’d squeezed her just a little tighter, and she knew it was because he was going to miss her too. She’d never lived this far away from him, and she didn’t like the idea of leaving him alone back home. He’d assured her that he would be just fine, but she already missed him terribly.
Alice had always liked the fact that Henry lived close to his grandfather. She would’ve done anything to live near Gramps. While her dad had made quite an effort to ensure she got to see Gramps as much as possible, she still wished she’d had Gramps around during the hard times when both she and her dad had needed someone there to listen.
Henry spent three days a week after preschool with Alice’s dad, they stayed over on weekends, and her dad picked him up for his ball games. But he wasn’t just there for Henry; he was there for her too. He’d been her shoulder to cry on when Matt left, and he’d talked her through it until her sobbing had subsided enough that she could think clearly. He’d held her hand and listened, offered his advice, and he’d been patient with her.
So instead of thinking about all that, making her chest ache, she put her focus on the business she was beginning.
The rental trailer her father had helped her hook up to her little Honda was now outside Gramps’s bike shop. It was full to the brim with boxes, mattresses, her kitchen table and chairs… She had no idea if it would all fit in the tiny space above the shop. She didn’t even want to think about what was in the other trailer that Sasha had just driven into the small parking lot, full of her things.
Sasha still hadn’t told Alice what was going on with her, but it was now clearer than ever that something was wrong. Her friend had been overly emotional in the last week, as they’d prepared to move, jumping at the chance to be with Henry, even mentioning that perhaps she should get a dog. While Sasha was always thrilled to see Henry, Alice had never seen her quite this enthusiastic to drop what she was doing and be with him. Then, as they were pulling out of Richmond, she could see Sasha visibly crying. When they’d stopped for a bathroom break, Alice tried to get something out of her, but she just told her that she was fine and everything would be okay. Alice wondered if perhaps the divorce proceedings were overwhelming her, and she just didn’t want to say anything. Maybe Sasha thought it would trigger Alice’s emotions about Matt leaving. Certainly, a divorce could take its toll on a person.
Henry and Einstein jumped out of the car, having been squeezed into the backseat for four hours, curled up together and sleeping most of the way—probably to avoid the fact that they had no room to move. Henry grabbed Einstein’s leash as the puppy tried to scamper off into the sand, pulling Henry along behind him.
Alice turned toward the view of the sea between the shop and the massive pier, and then to the little building itself, the display window empty of Gramps’s bikes, and put her hands on her hips. Even with the new sense of purpose that had taken over her, it still stung a little to see the bike shop without Gramps. There was a part of her that didn’t want to touch a thing and then another part that knew Gramps would be delighted to see what she could do with the place. Her eyes fell on the glass front door, where Gramps would always be standing waiting for her. It felt like he should be there now, smiling, asking if he could help her bring her things inside. It was as if he’d just vanished and she couldn’t get used to it.
The coastal wind rippled her T-shirt, temporarily relieving the humidity. The waves were big today—good for surfing, but bad for fishing, she immediately thought. The sun and surf would bring out all the early tourists, scaring the fish further out to sea. Over the dune, she could already make out a few multicolored umbrellas dotting the shoreline. She let her gaze roam to the pier beside them, its towering legs sprawled into the tide, its body reaching out 754 feet over the ocean, as Gramps had told her. A few people were walking down it, and others sat in rocking chairs provided by the small shops at the entrance, but it was quiet today.
An airplane flew over, its thunderous engine commanding her attention. It was one of those familiar propeller planes that hugged the coast, a banner trailing behind it with an advertisement for the early tourists. It crossed between her and the sun, blocking the penetrating rays for an instant. Alice shielded her eyes and squinted up at the text promoting an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. The tourists always seemed to like that: getting their hard-earned money’s worth after they’d traveled miles and miles to soak up the sun for a week.
It was also those people who rented bikes from Gramps so they could pop around to the souvenir and trinket shops. They didn’t know anything about the man at the bike shop; how kind Gramps was, how much he gave of himself, how he had even repaired beach cruisers for two elderly women—Olive and Maple, his friends who lived in town. They brought him breakfast: egg sandwiches on buttermilk biscuits the size of Alice’s fist, and little fritters with okra inside. They biked well into their eighties, their pastel beach cruisers sporting little baskets on the front where they’d hold their brown bags of food, folded over once and in a perfect line so as not to crush the contents.
Occasionally, in the afternoons, they’d stop by and ask Gramps to check their tires. He’d fill them up with air, free of charge. Olive and Maple were sweeter than the lemonade sorbet they were known for, and that was saying something. Alice wondered if Gramps was with them now, handing out Mason jars of iced tea while they all sat in their heavenly rockers up there in the land that, at the church Gramps took her to on Sundays, was promised to all who believe.
“I want to get into that water already,” Sasha said, stepping up next to her. Her nose was still a little red, but behind her sunglasses it was difficult to tell if she was emotional again. It wasn’t the right time to press her, though. Her friend’s dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, her aviators reflecting the pier. “It’s gorgeous today, so warm already. Maybe we can unpack a few boxes—just enough—and spend the rest of the day on the beach. I’m beat from loading the trailer this morning.”
Alice didn’t want to think about how tired she was. If she let the exhaustion set in, she’d be asleep the moment she slowed down, and they still had unpacking to do. Six in the morning had come early for her today; she’d spent a good five hours finishing up the packing of the trailer the night before, staying up way too late, so she was beat before she’d even made the drive to the Outer Banks.
“I want to go swimming too!” Henry said, walking over with Einstein, who’d found a piece of driftwood and had it in his mouth, his tail wagging furiously. His chest was poked out to show his pride in finding such a trophy. The wind pushed Henry’s blond hair off his forehead, showing off his blue eyes and making them look like mirror images of the sea. “Can we get my boogie board out of the trailer?”
“Of course,” Alice said, her heart full of nostalgia. “L
et’s see if we can get just the essentials out for now, so food, chairs, and boogie boards!” she said with a smile. “We all need a break after that drive, I’m sure.”
Alice carried in Einstein’s crate first, and Sasha offered to take him upstairs. Then, once he was safe and secure, they brought in what they needed for the day, unloading the boxes into the shop before letting the puppy back out. It was muggy inside; the air conditioner had been turned off to save on the electric bill while it was vacant. The display window at the front didn’t open, but Gramps had installed two regular windows at the back, which he raised on nice days, and a screen door to let the ocean air in.
“You need a little salt in your lungs,” he’d say whenever he opened them.
Out of nowhere, a memory surfaced of that summer-day crush of hers at the window, his smiling face and penetrating eyes as he beckoned her outside. She’d met him with Gramps on the pier, and they’d spent the whole day together. Even after she’d gone inside, he’d convinced her to come back out on the beach with her and they’d talked until the stars had filled the sky, when Gramps had finally made her come in.
Alice thought back to her youth, when life was so much easier. That boy she’d met at Gramps’s was so amazing that she’d compared every man she’d met to him since. She’d only spent one wonderful day with him, but he had made an impression that stayed with her into adulthood. It was so long ago, the details were fuzzy and she couldn’t even remember his name, but what she could remember clearly were the fireworks that went off every time he looked at her. With one smile, he could make her feel like she was the most important person in his world. She never saw him again, but she’d chased that feeling for the rest of her life. It was the first and last time she’d felt such a strong connection with someone, but she’d been so young she hadn’t realized at the time how rare that was.