by Jenny Hale
Alice looked over at the board, scanning all the sheets of paper, the drawings, the lists, the phone numbers for different work that would be required.
Sasha handed her their last idea, for a painted ice cream display with faces cut out for photo opportunities. They’d planned to put it outside so people would have something to keep them busy when the lines got long. If the lines got long.
“I’ll let you off the hook,” she said. “Now, tell me! Why were you smiling at your phone when I came in the room?”
Alice felt the heat crawl up her neck as the subject changed. “Jack texted, and he wants to meet me for a drink in about an hour,” she said.
Henry walked in with the coloring book she’d gotten him for the move. He waited for an explanation, having evidently heard what she’d said, while he opened it to a clean page and chose a crayon.
“Then,” Alice told him, “he wants to come back to get you for fishing.”
His yellow crayon was still in his small fingers as he grinned up at her, eyes wide. “Can we fish off the pier?”
“Of course.”
“Henry, may I color too?” Sasha said, waving her friend upstairs so she could get ready. Her gesture was an offer to watch Henry earlier than expected; Alice knew her so well that they spoke with only their actions, and she could read it without any prompting. She smiled gratefully at Sasha.
Alice went upstairs, feeling so thankful that Sasha had offered to watch Henry for her, especially now that Alice knew what her friend was going through emotionally. Alice finally relented, wondering if Henry was actually good for Sasha—he could keep her mind off the loss she’d suffered. She wished she could do something to support her friend, but she wasn’t sure what to do.
Still pondering, she pulled a pair of shorts and her favorite tank top from the suitcase and laid the garments on one of Gramps’s old trunks. She remembered how he’d set her up on it to tie her shoes, her little feet dangling above the floor as she sat atop the large, glossy wood planks that striped the lid.
Its contents had never occurred to her. Curiosity mounting now, she moved her clothes and flipped the heavy brass latch, the hinges groaning as she pushed it open to peek inside. With a knowing smile, she pulled out an issue of Saltwater Fishing, his favorite magazine. He’d earmarked the page on shifting sands. As she set it aside, a small circular case caught her eye. She opened it to find it was a wind-up travel clock, an old analog in gold leaf. She turned it over in her hand, admiring it. At the bottom, peeking out from more magazines, she could see an ink pen with his initials, a few photos of an old Ford truck he’d restored and sold at auction, and a couple of postage stamps from different countries. She didn’t have time to look at it all now, but the next time she had a free moment, she couldn’t wait to go through it. Gently, she folded the little travel clock and snapped it shut before placing it gingerly back into the trunk.
But just as she was about to close the lid, the tarnished gold of something small got her attention. It wasn’t a coin; it was something else. She felt around through the contents until her fingers found the bottom of the trunk and she tried to pull the object from under the magazines. When she got hold of it, she brought it up into her view. On closer inspection, it was a round locket, the front engraved with roses. Alice pressed her thumbnail between the sides and pried it open. On the left was a baby picture that looked like her and on the right, another baby. She squinted at the image, wondering if it was her cousin Susie. They were about the same age.
What a sweet reminder of family, she thought, and closed her fist around it as she shut the trunk. It was just like Gramps to have kept something like that. It had most likely been Alice’s grandma’s, and when she passed, Gramps had probably held onto it to keep it within the family. Her aunt Claire was always putting up old photos online. Alice would have to let her know that she’d found another one of Susie. Setting it on the dresser, she put her clothes back on the trunk and went to get ready, promising herself she’d go through Gramps’s things as soon as she could. Maybe there were more treasures in there.
Chapter Ten
Alice ran her hand along the sea oats as she crossed the boardwalk of one of the beach bars in town. Multicolored arrows directed her along the path around back, where the entire side of it was open to the sea. She read each one of the signs: “This way to happiness”; “You’re almost there”; “We’re all waiting for you.” Then she reached the back where the largest of the signs read, “We’re so glad you’re here.” When she took her eyes from the sign, Jack was smiling down at her, a fruity drink in his hand.
“Hello,” he said, handing it to her, those biceps peeking out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt. The light green of the fabric brought out his eyes, but she kept her attention on the emblem of his shirt to keep her composure as she took the drink from him. It was a faded picture of a sailboat with the name of a rum that she didn’t recognize. It must be local; the lettering said: “Outer Banks, NC” in curly script underneath the name.
“Thank you,” she said, filling her lungs with the sea air before finally looking at him. She smiled, unable to resist the feeling of how great it was to see him. “What is this?” She looked down at her drink. It was a creamy yellow with pineapple slices and shaved coconut on top.
“It’s called ‘The Smilemaker’. Looks like it works.”
Only then did she realize she was still smiling. A tingle of warmth spread over her cheeks, and she hoped he actually thought her reaction had been to the drink, although the fondness in his eyes told her otherwise.
Jack pulled a barstool out for her and she took a seat, placing her drink on top of a white square napkin on the bar.
“I know we’ve only just met, and this is a somewhat personal request, but I was wondering if you’d go with me to see my father today. I told him I’d pop in on him and I was wondering if we could go before we went fishing. He’s all alone and I think he’d really enjoy the company.”
“Of course.” She’d just been asked to meet the man that Jack had supposedly abandoned to move to Chicago. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she couldn’t wait to meet him.
“We don’t have to stay long.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind at all.” And she didn’t. She was intrigued to see the man who had raised the person sitting in front of her, the person so different from Melly’s description of him: the mannerly apple-catcher who was also great with kids and had the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen. Which version of Jack was real? Suddenly, she was second-guessing her decision to go because she might just find out definitively that it was Melly’s, and she wanted to hold on to the idea that it wasn’t for a little longer.
“Great.” Jack sat down beside her in front of a bottle of beer. With his strong hands resting on the table, he twisted toward her. “So, are you settling in okay?”
“Yes. I’ve even met a new neighbor. She’s lovely. We’ve spent a ton of time together already and it feels like I’ve known her forever. You might know her, actually. She’s a nurse. Her name is Melly St. James.”
“I do, actually,” Jack said, his eyebrows rising in interest. Then she noticed something in his expression, as if there was more to tell. He lifted the bottle of beer to his lips, his gaze shifting to the ocean briefly before returning to his bottle. He held it out as if reading the label and set it down.
“What is it?” she asked, interested in what information he had about her new friend.
He turned the bottle around slowly before meeting her eye again and then frowned, shaking his head. “Nothing at all. Glad you’ve already met your neighbor!” His face lifted. “I haven’t met mine in Chicago and I’ve lived in that building for three years.”
“Three years and you don’t know your neighbors?” Wait. She wasn’t letting him change the subject. That was a definite expression—a weird expression—she’d noticed when she’d mentioned Melly. “What do you know about Melly?”
“She’s one of the
new nurses hired at the hospital.”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips. She wasn’t being crazy. There was something very off about his response when she’d mentioned her, but she worried she was making a mountain out of a molehill. However, if it were nothing, then why wouldn’t he just say whatever it was? “You’re holding something back about her,” she said anyway, her interest at maximum levels. “Why won’t you tell me what it is?”
He leaned forward, surrender flashing in his eyes, and licked his lips as if buying time. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Why?”
“How are you able to mind read like that, anyway? I didn’t even say anything about Melly St. James and you somehow start grilling me on the hospital drama.”
“Drama?”
He shook his head and then smiled. “Remind me never to try to keep a secret from you. You’re killin’ me here.”
She grinned. At the end of the day, it was hospital drama like he said, and for whatever reason he wasn’t allowed to tell. She was putting pressure on him to spill the beans, and from the look on his face, he was torn between making her happy and keeping the secret. So she decided to let him off the hook. “Fine. I’ll let it go.” She held his gaze.
“Grab your drink,” he said, his attention moving to the dartboard at the corner of the room. “Let’s have some fun.”
Glad to have something pulling on her attention besides those eyes of his, she followed him over.
Jack took his beer bottle by the neck, between his two fingers, and led the way. Setting the drink down on a keg-barrel-turned-table, he plucked the darts from the board and handed her the ones with red tails, their fingers brushing each other’s as she took them. “Give it a few practice shots.”
Alice took an enormous drink from her glass, hoping the alcohol would relax her enough to take an accurate shot. Holding the dart between her thumb and forefinger, she zeroed in on the center of the board. When she felt like she had the shot lined up, she let the dart go, surprised by the slight heaviness of it. The tail wobbled as it sailed in an arc, barely catching the bottom of the board.
“My dart game needs some work,” she said.
He grinned at her, maneuvering the dart between his fingers in such a relaxed and casual way that she wondered how often he played this game. “I have an idea,” he said, his green eyes aglitter. “I get this shot—bull’s eye—and you go on a boat ride with me tomorrow. I miss and we both go about our business as usual.”
“You don’t have to work?” she questioned.
“I do, but it’s research and I’m heading it up, so I’m on my own time. I’ll figure that part out.”
She looked at the dart in his fingers, considering.
“Do we have a deal?”
Alice assessed his confidence. He was charming her, and she wasn’t entirely sure she had time to go on a boat ride with him. She had things to do.
“Well?”
“You get me here to have a drink and suddenly I’m meeting your dad, visiting a potential property with you, fishing with my son, and now I’m about to plan a boat ride. You’re good!”
Jack laughed.
“Fine. But you have to make it from here.” She took a few giant steps backward, lining herself up with the end of the bar and putting him back a considerable distance. She’d leave it up to fate to decide.
Jack tightened his lips as if thinking it over, his eyes moving from the bar to the dartboard. Was that uncertainty she saw?
“Confident?” Alice teased.
Jack laughed again, affection swallowing her up.
The dart still twirling easily through his fingers, Jack paced over to the spot she’d chosen and unexpectedly, the bull’s eye seemed awfully far away, too far away, her determination crumbling. Despite all the things she told herself, she wanted him to make that shot, but she’d made it nearly impossible. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that by making it a near unreachable target, it was her brain telling her heart to quit dreaming.
There was a smirk on the bartender’s face, but before she could process the meaning of it, Jack let the dart go and her concentration moved to the sailing object, her heartbeat speeding up despite the scolding from her inner voice.
It seemed to take forever, and then there was a light thump as the point made contact with the board. She stared at it, blinking to be sure she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing. Or was it wishful thinking?
“Bull’s eye,” she heard from the bartender behind her, as he laughed quietly and turned toward a customer.
Jack took the darts from her hand and, one after another, hit the center of the board, not missing a single shot.
“So is this how you get all the girls to go out with you?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in an adorable way. “Only the ones opening ice cream shops. I’m hoping to get free dessert.”
Alice tried to keep a serious face. “I think you need more of a challenge if a boat ride is at stake.”
“Nope. You agreed. I even let you choose the distance. But I’ll tell you what: you can pick the challenge the next time.”
“Next time?”
Jack nodded, his gaze roaming her face. “Wanna meet my dad now?”
“Okay,” she said, happy to just be with him. He was proving to be nothing at all like Melly had described, and, while that fact thrilled her, it also scared her to death.
* * *
“When I was a boy, my dad wasn’t around a whole lot. He was a salesman—what he sold changed by the year. But the one thing he was good at was talking to people, and with that gift, he made a living for his family. He always researched every single one of the products he sold, so he could tell the customers exactly what they were buying, which made them feel like they could trust him. He spent his whole adult life providing for us, and now it’s my turn to give something back to him,” Jack said as he pulled up outside the small bungalow, nearly hidden in the woods among the pine trees. He hopped out and opened Alice’s door for her.
An old man with a white beard and broad shoulders, wearing denim overalls, walked over to greet them. He’d been chopping wood, a split piece teetering haphazardly on an old tree stump. The pine straw crunched beneath Alice’s feet while she followed Jack over to the man to meet him half way. She could see the immediate boost in the man’s features when he saw his son; his pride was clear.
“Hey, Dad,” he called before they reached him. “This is Alice.”
The man clapped his hands together and wiped them on the front of his overalls before offing one to Alice in greeting. “Butch Murphy.” She could tell by the gentle way he took her hand that he was kind, and with that smile, it was no wonder he’d been a good salesman. He had the sort of face anyone would trust, just like his son.
“You don’t have some big news to share with me or anything, do you?” he asked, his gaze darting between the two of them.
Jack laughed. “No, Dad. We just came to say hello.”
“Mmm,” he nodded, looking unconvinced.
“You know chopping wood won’t help your back, right?”
“My back is just fine.” Butch stroked his beard defiantly but a slight uncertainty flickered on his face. “I’ll go crazy if I stay inside. You know that.”
“Yes. I do. But you could take a walk, go out for a nice cup of coffee. Anything but chop wood. You don’t even need firewood. It’s summer.”
“It’ll rot if I don’t chop it and get it off the ground.”
“You have central heating for the winter anyway.”
“Yes, but there’s no better way to spend a winter evening than by the fire. That’s when I can relax.”
“Two seasons from now?” Jack chuckled, clearly just giving his father a hard time. Their banter was enjoyable to watch, and it was obvious they were very close.
“You have got to be the worst date ever,” Butch said. “You’ve brought a girl to see me and you never bring girls home.” He leaned i
n toward Alice. “Even in high school, he brought very few girls over.” Eyeing Jack, he said, “And here you are talking about central heating. A regular Casanova, you are.”
“Then what do you propose we do?”
Butch rolled his eyes dramatically as if the answer were clear. “Follow me.” Butch turned and headed into the woods.
Alice questioned Jack with a look, but he seemed to be just as unclear as to where they were headed.
“Why are we going down the old path?” Jack put his hand on Alice’s back to help her keep her footing as she stepped over a downed tree limb.
“Remember all that fishing line I had you buy me?” Butch asked, his eyes staying on the trail, his back to them as he led the way. “I’m going to show you why.”
“Did you find a pond back here or something?” Jack thrust a vine out of the route, clearing the way. After Alice stepped past it, he let it go and it snapped back over the path again.
“Nope. I learned how to relax.”
They pushed past the last of the brush and Alice gasped. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “Did you do this yourself?” She tipped her head up to see them all. The woods had been cleared, raked clean, and the trees’ limbs had been pruned, letting the sun in through the canopy. There were benches made of logs, highly sanded and glossy, but what had really floored her was what was hanging from the branches by the nearly invisible fishing line: there were little, perfectly carved wooden birds—hundreds of them. Not only did Jack get his friendliness from his father, he’d inherited Butch’s precision as well. “It looks like they’re flying,” she said, her words coming out breathlessly.
“Dad, this is incredible.”
Jack walked around slowly, his head tilting back, viewing each one individually, and giving every bird his full attention. Alice liked how he did that: he took his time with everything, just like he had with her when she’d had that moment the day they’d met. He was deliberate, focused.