Tales From Sea Glass Inn

by Karis Walsh

  She got out of the car and her heart jumped when she saw Helen running across the lot toward her. She hesitated for a moment before she recognized the worried expression on Helen’s face. Jenny knew trouble when she saw it.

  “What’s wrong?” she called, sprinting toward Helen. Had something happened to the birds? One of the volunteers? Helen?

  Helen stopped, gasping for breath, and grabbed Jenny’s sleeve. “Amy Hansen. Her dog. Hit by a car.”

  “Is she inside?”

  Helen nodded. “In the back room. The nearest emergency vet is in Seaside. Too far.”

  Jenny squeezed her shoulder and took off toward the door to the auditorium. Amy was one of her regular volunteers. As tireless as the rest of the Cannon Beach citizens, Amy had been involved in nearly every aspect of the center’s work. Jenny burst through the door with Helen right on her heels and jogged to the small room where she stored the vet supplies she brought to every site. She never knew what type of animal she’d need to treat. Here, she mostly took care of shorebirds, but she’d also treated sea animals and the occasional house pet that had ingested oil.

  Amy was leaning over a folding table, her arms wrapped around a medium-sized yellow Lab. Her little boy, Sam, was beside her, crying and holding a corner of the blanket that covered the dog. Jenny had seen the child here a few times, playing with Tia while his mother worked with the birds.

  “Hi, Sam. Can you tell me your dog’s name?”

  “Buddy. Can you save him?”

  “I’ll do my best. How old is Buddy?”

  Jenny moved to the table while she asked a series of questions, more to get Sam talking and relaxed than to get information. She’d learn what she needed from Buddy himself. She nodded at Helen, and as if they were communicating mentally, Helen stepped into Amy’s place and put her hands gently on the still form of the dog. Amy backed away and leaned against the far wall with Sam in her arms.

  Jenny murmured instructions to Helen as she examined the dog. Outwardly, her voice sounded calm and her hands were steady as she checked the Lab’s limbs, cleaned and sutured a large gash on his hip, and took X-rays with her portable machine. Inside, on the contrary, she was panic-stricken. What if he didn’t make it? What if there was something she couldn’t fix? When she was on the job, she had hundreds, sometimes thousands, of patients. Some made it, some didn’t. She cared about every single one of them, but Buddy was different.

  Jenny shaved the hair around another deep cut. This animal belonged to people she knew. She had always considered small-scale vet work to be less significant than what she did, but she’d been wrong. She glanced back at Amy and Sam, both with tear-drenched cheeks. The stakes seemed higher because she herself was connected to this circle of animal and owner, like when she had helped Danny with Piper.

  Jenny finished the last stitch and snipped the end of the suture. Buddy had been nonresponsive to his surroundings at first, but he was beginning to look around again. Jenny motioned for Amy and Sam to come over to the table, and Buddy’s tail weakly fanned the air when they came close.

  “He has a slight concussion and two deep cuts. No broken bones. I gave him antibiotics, but I’d suggest getting him to your regular vet to make certain there’s no internal bleeding or other serious problem. I can only do so much here, but he’s stable and should be fine to move.”

  “I can drive you to Seaside,” Helen offered.

  Jenny got Danny and her parents to help move Buddy to Helen’s car on a makeshift stretcher. Helen shut the door behind them, leaving her alone in the room with Jenny. “You were awesome,” she said, walking over and hugging Jenny tightly.

  Jenny’s hands shook where they rested on Helen’s back. She nuzzled into the warmth of Helen’s skin and inhaled a scent of vanilla and spice. “Thank you for helping.” The words were inadequate, but Jenny knew they both had experienced the same depth of emotion. Concern for one of their own, fear, a sagging relief. They didn’t need to put words to the feelings to make them more real than they already were.

  Helen pulled back and rested her hand on Jenny’s cheek. “I’m sorry I left this morning. It was just…It’s all too much…I love spending time with you and learning about you, but I want more.”

  Jenny put her palm over Helen’s hand and pressed it close. “I do, too. I just don’t have more to offer. My time is limited here, but maybe we can talk on the phone and write. Then the next time I’m near here, we can arrange to meet.”

  Helen shook her head. “I don’t want a pen pal, Jenny. I want this.” She put her arms around Jenny’s neck and kissed her.

  Jenny thought she had uncovered every side of loneliness in her lifetime, but until she felt its lack, when it suddenly and explosively vanished at the touch of Helen’s lips on hers, Jenny realized she’d never truly understood what she had been missing. Jenny explored Helen’s mouth gently with her tongue. The sweet, sweet taste of her. The passion between them stayed soft, hovering near the edge of the kiss, and Jenny felt its energy. Waiting to be unleashed, if only there weren’t people waiting outside for Helen. If only Jenny didn’t have to leave.

  If only…

  Helen pulled back as if she felt the good-bye in Jenny’s kiss. “This is what I want, every day and every night. Not once a year when you happen to be passing near the West Coast on your way to someplace else.”

  She turned and walked out the door. Jenny dropped into the closest chair and rested her elbows on her knees. She wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Her values hadn’t changed since she’d come here, but the way she wanted to express them had. She stood up and started to put her instruments away. Her world was upside down here, and she wasn’t sure how to handle the resulting vertigo. She’d have to fall back on her old standby. Hard work. She flipped off the light and went out to greet her next hundred patients.

  *

  Helen dropped Amy, Sam, and Buddy at their house and drove slowly back to the center. Before she got to the street leading to the auditorium, she turned left instead and parked at the end of a beach access road. Yellow tape and warning signs marked the beach as closed, but she got out and climbed a concrete retaining wall that separated the parking lot from the shore. The sun was warm on the back of her neck and the sand in front of her was relatively clean already. A soft breeze lifted her hair.

  A perfect day. The town should be filled to the gills with tourists. She should be sweating from the heat of overworked ovens in the bakery’s kitchen, turning out tray after tray of baked goods for hungry beachgoers. A run to the bank in the late afternoon with a hefty deposit, and then back to work prepping for the next morning’s baking.

  Helen drew her knees up and clasped her arms around them. She had uprooted her life yet again to come to Cannon Beach, fooling herself with a deep certainty that she was finally coming home. She’d had nearly three months of promising sales before the spill changed everything. Now she was witness to the devastation of her beautiful new home and its inhabitants—human, animal, and avian. She’d worked harder in the past weeks than ever before, even when she had juggled three jobs during culinary school. Backbreaking, monotonous, sad work. She’d watched helplessly as her savings and sales had dwindled to nothing. She’d realized how ideal this place was for her while she was watching it slip out of her grasp. The people here, the laid-back lifestyle, and the constant exposure to a gorgeous natural setting: this was everything she’d dreamed of having, all those nights when she was shivering in an abandoned warehouse or enduring her uncle’s tirades or laboring up to her elbows in greasy dishwater. Soon, within the next few weeks, the dream would be over.

  She should be devastated, bone-tired, and in despair. She pushed her hair back and wiped wind-caused tears from her eyes. Oddly enough, she felt lighter than she ever had. Not exactly happy, but filled with purpose and a sense of rightness. Banding together with her community had been a new experience for her. She might have been reluctant to get involved at first, preferring to protect herself by remaining aloof,
but once she started working side by side with Mel and the others, she’d come to value the community spirit they shared. Jenny had been right—Helen could have delayed her bankruptcy a bit if she had quit spending so much time at the center and had stopped baking for the volunteers. But she wouldn’t trade the kinship she’d experienced for any business success she would have celebrated all alone.

  Getting closer to Jenny had been special as well. Helen had never felt such a profound attraction to another person. Looks aside—although Jenny’s were enough to turn Helen’s head—Jenny had character and integrity. No matter whether she kept up her grueling travel schedule or settled in one place, Jenny would doubtless spend her life in service to animals and the people who cared about them. She inspired Helen to be better, to look beyond her own needs and help others. Helen had trusted Jenny with her story and with her fears, and Jenny had done the same with her. She had found someone who excited her and, at the same time, settled her restless heart.

  Helen jumped off the low wall and got back in her car. The morning had been a crazy one. She had woken early, safely wrapped in Jenny’s arms, and she had quietly extricated herself from the embrace. Not because she’d wanted to go, but because both she and Jenny had to go. Jenny, to her next destination. Helen, to…well, she wasn’t sure. She’d have to find a new goal and start from step one to achieve it.

  Helen had sat in Jenny’s room for almost an hour, watching her sleep and examining what she really wanted in life. A month ago, she wouldn’t have been able to see any option beyond the bakery. It had meant independence to her, and the freedom to burrow into a life and not be forced to leave it again. Now she saw other paths her life could take. Would any of them coincide with Jenny’s? Helen had never wanted a roaming lifestyle and she had done whatever it took to avoid living that way. But maybe the constant sense of being unsettled and insecure would be okay if she wasn’t facing it alone. And maybe more kisses like the one she and Jenny had shared would eventually erase from Helen’s heart any concern about moving. She’d be grounded by Jenny’s touch.

  Now, as she drove back to the center, she felt a growing feeling of acceptance. She’d accept the failure of her business with as much dignity as she could muster. She’d accept yet another disruptive move and an uncertain future. She walked into the auditorium and looked at the rows and rows of pens. Many were empty now, but a few animals and birds were being found and brought in every day. Her problems seemed puny in comparison.

  Jenny was standing by the curtain leading to the washing area, talking to her father, but she hurried over as soon as she saw Helen.

  “Hey,” she said, pulling Helen into a big hug. “Thanks for texting me updates about Buddy. He’s really going to be all right?”

  “He’ll be fine. He was already looking less disoriented by the time we got him home.” Helen hesitated before telling Jenny everything the vet had said. Jenny had made it abundantly clear she was ready to go elsewhere as soon as she was done here. “He agreed with your diagnoses and said your suturing technique is the best he’s seen. He’s wanted to open a practice here in Cannon Beach, but he’d need to staff it.”

  “Cannon Beach needs its own vet,” Jenny agreed. “I’ve met plenty of pet owners here, and they shouldn’t have to travel far for decent health care. It’d be even better if he could find someone who could work on wildlife as well since there are so many animals and birds in the area. I might be able to come up with some names for him from contacts I’ve made.”

  Helen shook her head. “He wants you, Jenny. He’s heard about the work you’ve done here, and Amy was a little dramatic in her description of how you helped Buddy.”

  Helen didn’t mention her own addition to the conversation. The vet must have been left with the impression of Jenny as the Mother Teresa of the animal kingdom.

  “I’m flattered, of course, but you know I can’t stay here.” Jenny shook her head as if emphasizing her words. “It’s a wonderful town, and the job sounds tempting. You tempt me to stay here, to have a chance to spend more time with you. But I’m accustomed to traveling, and I’m good at what I do. I don’t know how to stay in one place, how to really integrate myself into a community beyond the temporary way I connect during an emergency. I understand temporary. Permanence scares me.”

  “I figured as much,” Helen said. She took a deep breath. Jenny had called her a temptation. She sounded as interested in pursuing their relationship as Helen felt, and the knowledge gave Helen the courage to do what she could to give them a chance. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. You already know I’m going to lose my business. I’ve been considering where I’ll go from here.”

  “Are you sure? There must be something you can try.”

  Helen shook her head. “I’d take on another job doing anything at all to pay the bills, but no one is hiring right now. I sell a few items to locals, but a tray of brownies a day isn’t going to keep the bakery afloat. I don’t see any other way to—”

  “Helen,” Mel called out, jogging toward them from across the room, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Helen sighed. She wanted to broach the subject of possibly going with Jenny to her next assignment and she was nervous enough about asking without being interrupted. “I’ll be right over to help clean,” she said.

  Mel waved her hand. “Don’t worry. You did enough by helping with Buddy. I just wanted to give you this order form.”

  Helen looked at the invoice Mel had handed her. Sandwich rolls, pastries. By the dozen. “What’s this for?”

  “Pam and I are organizing a series of tours to the Oregon Coast galleries. Everyone is suffering from the lack of tourism, and this is something we can plan even if the area’s beaches are closed. The tours will have sack lunches and dinner in local restaurants. They’ll have planned stops at galleries and stores.”

  “Sharing the wealth,” Jenny said with an appreciative nod.

  “What little there is,” Mel said with a laugh. “But it’s a start. I was hoping you could make those yummy soft potato rolls for the sandwiches, Helen. And sand dollars for dessert, of course. Plus, we’ll make your bakery one of the after-lunch stops, and I’ll let you know the dates and times to expect the buses once we’ve finalized the schedule. Oh, there’s Glen. I need to talk to him about working as a tour guide. Talk to you later.”

  Mel disappeared again, and Helen stared at the invoice in her hand. She had already made the decision to let go of the bakery, but she couldn’t stop her mind from running the numbers against her stack of bills.

  “Awesome,” Jenny said, looking over Helen’s shoulder. “See? You’ve helped the community, and now it’s helping you. Does this mean you won’t have to close?”

  “No…I mean, it’s a generous offer, but I can’t…” Helen added the numbers in her head again. She could stay open at least a few extra weeks if these tours were a success. Her bakery wouldn’t be safe even with the big order, but maybe she could find other ways to…No. Staying would mean giving up Jenny, and Helen wasn’t prepared to do it until she had at least given them a chance. “I still wouldn’t be in the black. I’ll help for the first few tours, but once the rescue center closes, I’ll be ready to shut the bakery and move.”

  Jenny put her hand on Helen’s shoulder. “Why rush? If the money buys you some time, then take it. I’ve witnessed this too many times to count. When you’re caught in the midst of a crisis, everything seems doomed, but things will return to normal.”

  “Maybe I don’t want normal. Maybe I want—”

  Tia burst into their conversation. “Helen! There you are. We’re having a town meeting on Friday for all the business owners. We’ll brainstorm ideas to help each other through this tourist drought. I need you to bring about five dozen pastries, your choice, although you absolutely must bring some of those cinnamon ones. I’ve had six already today. And I’ll introduce you to Gary, the owner of Chez Mer. He just lost his pastry chef to a big Portland restaurant and I told
him you make exquisite éclairs. Do you? Anyway, if you don’t already, I’m sure you can learn by Friday. Seven o’clock at the town hall. Here’s a check for the goodies. Did you see which way Mel went? Oh, there she is.”

  Jenny laughed. “She’s a dynamo.” She rubbed her hands along Helen’s upper arms. “I’m so happy for you. With these opportunities and all the other ones I’m sure you can think up, I know in my heart you’ll be successful here.”

  Helen shrugged Jenny’s hands off her arms and then captured them in her own. “This is amazing, all these people helping each other, but I’ve already made my decision. I’ve been trying to tell you that I want you. Not my bakery, not to live here, but to be with you. If I come with you on your next job, I can help with the work and give us a chance to be together. To discover each other more than we can in the few moments we’ve had here.”

  Jenny shook her head and backed away, but Helen wouldn’t let go. “You’ve been through too much to make this decision, Helen. You’re exhausted from working so hard and stressed financially and emotionally. Wait before you decide to throw your life away for someone like me. Give yourself a chance to make it here because it’s a good place.”

  “And you’re a good person. You’re worth taking a chance on, Jenny. We are worth a chance. I can sell the business and come with you. We work well together and we obviously have a connection. Why not see where it takes us?”

  Jenny finally broke free. “No, Helen. Because I know where it will take us. From place to place, crisis to crisis. Our relationship wouldn’t have a chance because the next disaster would always be my priority. You’ll resent me for dragging you around the globe, and I’ll hate myself for it. It’ll be just like…”

  “You and your parents,” Helen finished for her. It would be different, though, because Helen would have made a choice to go, and it wouldn’t have been made for her. But she suddenly saw the truth behind Jenny’s resistance. Jenny herself wanted out of the lifestyle she followed. She was the one who was resentful and angry. Until she faced her own responses, she’d never be able to accept a different kind of life. Helen turned and walked away before she made a fool of herself and begged to go with Jenny. She held Mel’s invoice and Tia’s check crumpled tightly in her hand. She’d put her energy back where it belonged, into her business and her new home here. Maybe, with the help of other business owners like these two, she’d be able to get through this rough patch.