The Mailbox

by Marybeth Whalen

  “Wow,” Jake said as he hopped out. “It doesn’t seem that far when you drive!” Campbell handed each child a bag, and Lindsey shooed them inside to put the food away.

  Campbell and Lindsey stood awkwardly by the truck, looking at each other without speaking. They stared at each other—it seemed neither one knew how to say good-bye or wanted the night to end.

  “You really haven’t changed that much,” he said, breaking the silence.

  She smiled. “I thought the exact same thing. I would know you anywhere.”

  “I’m sorry I said that about meeting Nikki,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring her up. I realize that might not be something you’re ready to talk about.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “Campbell, it’s been almost twenty years. I hope I’ve grown up enough to handle meeting your daughter. She’s obviously a big part of your life.”

  He smiled. “She’s a cool kid. Of course, who am I kidding? She’s not little anymore. She’s starting college now.”

  The door to the house opened and Anna stuck her head out. “Mom! Jake’s eating a bunch of Oreos even though he already had a Popsicle tonight!”

  “Okay!” she hollered back. “I’ll be right in. Tell Jake to stop eating and go brush his teeth.” She paused for a moment. “You too!” she hollered just as Anna slammed the door. She looked at Campbell. “Sorry to yell.” She laughed in a way she was sure sounded self-conscious. “I still don’t think she heard me.”

  He smiled. “Your kids are great.”

  “Well, thanks. I think so.”

  “Guess this year’s been hard on them.”

  “You know, I’ve put so much emphasis on me and my hurting that only now am I processing what Grant’s—that’s my husband—leaving did to them. This trip’s been good for us in that way.”

  “How long are you here for?” he asked, a note of hopefulness in his voice.

  “Well, my uncle hardly ever comes here anymore, so he said to stay as long as I wanted. I originally thought we’d stay a week, but now …” she let her voice trail off, hoping he would finish her sentence for her.

  “Now, what?” he teased.

  “Well, now I wonder if maybe we have some catching up to do,” she answered, more boldly than she felt.

  “I would say that’s a correct assumption.” They both stood there grinning at each other, the giddy feelings of youth rushing back to them as if no time had passed. “So, if I could get my mom to watch your kids, do you think that maybe we could go to dinner tomorrow night?”

  She tried to imagine her kids with his mom. She couldn’t help it. She thought of Anna or Jake telling Grant that she went out with a man, leaving them with his mom, a total stranger. She imagined that phone call, his disapproving tone. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean the ink’s hardly dry on my divorce papers.”

  He put his hand, warm and heavy, on her shoulder. “The last time I checked, old friends going out to dinner is okay. What if I promise not to make a move on you?”

  Maybe it was because she felt young standing in the beach night air, or because seeing him again felt like a miracle, or maybe after losing a husband she just had less to lose, but she replied with exactly what she was thinking: “The problem is, I might want you to.”

  His laugh came out in a sputter. “Well then, that gives me much to think about tonight.” They both laughed nervously. “So, is that a yes?”

  She smiled at him, though it had grown dark and she didn’t know if he could see. “Yes,” she said, grateful he couldn’t feel her heart beating ninety miles an hour.

  As he got in his truck and drove away with the smile still on his face, she hurried inside the house and slumped inside the door, happiness rising inside her like bubbles in champagne, light and buoyant and never ending.

  Chapter 20

  Sunset Beach

  Summer 1995

  Lindsey sat on the beach watching Grant play at the water’s edge with Anna, holding her chubby hand and trying to keep her from putting shells in her mouth. She waved at him but he didn’t see her.

  She watched as clouds gathered off the coast. The ominous gray color meant a big storm was brewing, and for a moment she wondered if she would be able to get to the mailbox tomorrow or if it would still be storming and she would be left inside with her family, staring forlornly out the window like a little girl unable to go outside to play.

  She stared at the horizon and wondered if she should suggest that they pack it in for the day. Other beachgoers were collecting their blankets and balls, taking down umbrellas and throwing away trash. But she wanted to sit a bit longer and stare at the clouds. A memory flickered across her mind of her first summer at Sunset, a decade ago. This year was an anniversary of sorts, ten years of coming to the mailbox. She had allowed herself to remember Campbell more than usual in honor of the occasion.

  She pictured her aunt Frances pacing in front of the TV set. “Bobby, Stephanie! I need you to be quiet so I can hear this weather report!” she said to Lindsey’s cousins, her voice strained and sharp. Bobby and Stephanie stopped squabbling over the game they were playing and looked at Lindsey with fear in their eyes. Their mother never raised her voice.

  Lindsey walked over to stand beside her aunt. “What’s up?” she asked.

  Her aunt shook her head and lowered her voice. “This hurricane is going to hit the coast. They’ve recommended a voluntary evacuation of the island. But please don’t talk about it with the kids.”

  Lindsey nodded, her heart racing. “Does that mean we would leave early?” she asked, willing her voice not to sound as panicked as she felt. She looked over at Campbell, who sat with Bobby and Stephanie at the kitchen table. He raised his eyebrows and came over to join them.

  “Hey, Lindsey, let’s head over to my house to see what my parents are going to do. Do you mind, Mrs. Edwards?” Her aunt shook her head absentmindedly and turned back to the TV.

  Lindsey followed Campbell out of the house. As soon as they got off the porch, she grabbed his hand. “I’m nervous, Campbell. If we have to evacuate, we won’t come back,” she said. “We only have a few days left as it is.”

  He smiled back at her, confident. “I’ve got a plan,” he said and kissed her knuckles. “So don’t you worry because you aren’t going anywhere.”

  They walked into his house and found his mom. “Hey, Mom,” he said. “Are you guys evacuating?”

  Mrs. Forrester waved her hand in the air dismissively. “No, this thing’s going to be nothing more than a bad storm. No need to go anywhere.” She smiled at Lindsey. “Is your family leaving, honey?” she asked her.

  Campbell interrupted before Lindsey could answer. “Well, that’s what I came to talk to you about. Will you and Dad drop by and talk to Lindsey’s aunt and uncle? They’re nervous, and I think it would help for them to see that you guys aren’t.”

  Campbell’s mother nodded, looking from Lindsey to Campbell. “Well, sure, honey. Whatever you think would help. I’ll go get your dad and we can drive you two back over there.” She grinned at them. “I’ll even offer to let Campbell stay with you guys for the night just to keep an eye on things. How’s that?”

  Lindsey couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same house with Campbell, but she nodded before the offer went away. Her hopes were high as the group climbed into the Forresters’ wood-paneled Jeep Wagoneer. Sitting beside Campbell in the backseat, she felt safe and secure, as if together they could handle any storm. She leaned into him and felt his warmth radiate through her.

  A decade later she still remembered that feeling: She trusted Campbell completely. She believed then that the right person could solve all of her problems and erase all of her hurts. She had learned lately—thanks to Holly and, ironically, to Grant—that no person could be everything to her. She had recently learned that only G
od was capable of such a role. With Holly’s encouragement, Lindsey had begun attending a Bible study and was actually starting to believe that only God could love her like she needed to be loved—plus, she had no idea where else she would find it. To expect a sixteen-year-old boy to do that for her had been her first mistake.

  Raising her hand, she tried to catch Grant’s eye, but he still wasn’t looking. Disappointment lurched in her heart. How many years had she been looking to men to make her feel worthy, beginning with Campbell and now with Grant? If she depended on him to make her feel valuable, she would always be reaching but never taking hold. As the sky darkened, she put her hand down and waited for him to come to her.

  Summer 1995

  Dear Kindred Spirit,

  We had a big rainstorm here last night. And today, the beach was covered in debris, reminding me of Hurricane Bob, the hurricane that hit my first summer here. I thought about how the skies looked that summer and how Campbell and I, along with a crowd of onlookers, marveled at the surfers, who refused to get out of the water even as the winds and rain whipped them around. Maybe you were there, Kindred Spirit. Maybe you were also in the crowd that gathered to watch those surfers. Maybe you saw me and Campbell and smiled at us because you knew that you and I were going to be friends.

  I still remember how confident Campbell was as he comforted my family and convinced them not to evacuate the island. He stood in their kitchen leaning against the counter, the dishwasher humming behind him. “It’ll blow over,” he said, with a wave of his hand, dismissing the whole thing. Outside the window, I could see the people next door loading their car, heading for safer territory, their faces pinched with worry. “Wimpy tourists,” Campbell had labeled them with a wink.

  Looking back now, it seems silly that we trusted Campbell, but we did. He took us in with his demeanor: confident without being cocky, knowing without being a know-it-all. He made me feel safe when I was with him. I guess that’s why what happened with Ellie still haunts me—because I had come to expect more from him. I didn’t expect human weakness in him, which in hindsight was unfair. If I had the chance, I would tell him now that I forgive him. It’s been ten years—ten years of feeling betrayed, cast aside. Abandoned.

  Even as I say it—I forgive him—I can’t believe I have reached this point. But there it is. I guess time does heal. Maybe not to the point that I can forget—because how can I forget?—but to the point that I see things as they were and not as I wished they’d turned out.

  I can’t help but wonder where he is now, what he’s doing. Did he and Ellie work out? Did they have any other children? Now that I am married, I certainly can’t try to find him, but I will admit to you—and only to you—that there is a part of me that still wants to stay connected to him. There is a part of me that would love to tell him how my life turned out. That I am still waiting out the storms of life instead of running from them, even though I had to learn to do it without him. That gradually I am learning to trust God to be with me in the storm. I wonder if my newfound faith in God would surprise him or if he has taken a similar path. He knew how I used to feel about God. I would love to tell him how wrong I was.

  The night of the hurricane, my aunt and uncle let Campbell sleep at their beach house. With the wind howling and the rain beating the windows, he and I sat on the couch chatting with my aunt and uncle. When the house lost power, we lit candles and played cards. When the actual storm passed over, the wind gusted so hard that the doors of the house blew open by themselves and my aunt screamed. I think she second-guessed our decision to stay at that moment. I still remember her scream and the look on Campbell’s face as he looked at us. “The worst is over now,” he said calmly.

  By morning, the storm had passed and we all went outside to inspect the damage. Tree limbs had fallen and lots of debris washed up on the shore. But nothing that warranted cutting our vacation short. I held Campbell’s hand as we made our way down to the beach, barely talking, just happy to be together. “Thank you,” I said as we walked.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For talking my aunt and uncle into staying. If you hadn’t been so convincing, I know we would have packed up and gone home early. And I would have had to say good-bye to you.”

  He smiled and took me in his arms. “Why do you think I told them to stay?” he said as he waggled his eyebrows up and down. That was when I realized that he was never certain that we would be fine—he had no special insight or prediction skills as we had all assumed. He was just a lovestruck teenager who didn’t want his summer romance called off on account of weather. The fact that his parents weren’t evacuating was reason enough for him to convince us to stay put. As I kissed him there, on the beach, I was so happy that it had worked and we had bought a few more days together, even if it took a dangerous gamble to make it happen. Even more, I knew that this was a person who felt safe in the midst of a storm, a person I could find shelter in. But people aren’t made for that.

  It seems strange to still miss Campbell as I sit here, all these years later. Maybe it seems strange to you, too. I’m a married woman, after all. But sometimes my memories of him are so thick that I can’t push through them—especially when I come to the mailbox. Sometimes I just have to let the memories sit until, slowly, they dissipate and I go on with normal life.

  Normal life for me these days is a whirlwind. It is only in rare times like these that I am allowed the luxury of a memory, the treasure of a deep thought. Anna is an active toddler who keeps me on my toes. She started walking at a year and running practically the next day! She is so inquisitive, which means I spend most of my time just following her around trying to keep her from hurting herself. I wish you could meet her. When she gets older, I imagine I will bring her here. Will she love the mailbox and you, Kindred Spirit, as much as I do?

  Grant and I are doing fine. I wouldn’t say great, but fine. The more I learn about marriage, the more I wonder if there are any truly great ones out there. Grant’s parents have been married forever, but they bicker and fight so much it makes me uncomfortable to be around them sometimes. So, what is a great marriage, really? Can two imperfect people ever really love each other in a way that is mutually satisfying? Is it even possible for people to love each other completely? These are questions I try not to spend too much time pondering. Because the answers make me feel sort of sad and hopeless.

  Grant is pushing for another child, which I am considering but very nervous about. I know that he would love to have a son. He wasn’t disappointed that Anna was a girl, but he did say pretty quickly that he would like to try again for a son. Sometimes I would like to leave things the way they are—just surviving Anna’s first year seems monumental enough. Although I don’t want Anna to be an only child. I know firsthand how lonely that can be. Maybe that’s why Campbell and I gravitated to each other the way we did—two only children reaching out to each other out of loneliness, and hanging on for dear life.

  Speaking of hanging on for dear life, I should probably get going. Grant is alone with Anna and I am on borrowed time. The two of them do much better together than they did a year ago, but it’s still better if I’m around. They both just seem to visibly relax when I walk in the door. I am the glue, Grant says, that holds our family together. Sometimes I wish someone else could be the glue for a while. Being the glue, I am discovering, is sticky business.

  Until next summer,

  Lindsey

  Chapter 21

  Sunset Beach

  Summer 2004

  All day Campbell thought of her. He had gotten up the courage to ask her out last night and, like a schoolboy counting down the hours to his first date, he now watched the clock. When he took Nikki for her counseling appointment, he knew she could tell he was preoccupied. Neither of them said a lot on the drive over, each lost in their own thoughts. Nikki acted like counseling was the last place in the world she wanted to
go. Like if he gave her the choice, she would choose prison or the most boring class she’d ever sat through over that appointment. He knew that helping her needed to be his first priority. And in that way Lindsey turning up was bad timing. Thoughts of Lindsey filled his mind and tore him away from thoughts of Nikki. He was torn between Lindsey and his daughter once again.

  When he dropped off Nikki, her counselor, Lisa, asked to speak to him alone for a moment. They stood out in the hall, next to a dilapidated, dusty ficus tree someone had stuck there and forgotten. He wondered if Nikki could hear them through the door and guiltily stepped farther away. Lisa told him that helping Nikki build relationships with him, her grandmother, and her mom would be the basis of changing the destructive behavior patterns she had been engaging in. She asked if they would be willing to come to some of the sessions. He assured her they were committed to helping Nikki any way they could, yet inwardly winced at the thought of Ellie coming to Sunset, especially with Lindsey back in the picture.

  Lisa told him that Nikki seemed committed to working toward her goals. But she also warned that, girls like Nikki were already proficient in achieving what’s expected of them. His mind flashed to her graduation ceremony, the awards she walked up to the stage to accept, the blank smile on her face. He had brushed it off as nerves, but he now saw differently as Lisa spoke. Nikki wanted something out of those awards she didn’t get. The awards, he knew, felt light in her arms, weightless, a lot of nothing. Lisa warned him that sometimes girls like Nikki had tricks up their sleeves, playing along for everyone’s sake, yet continuing the behavior in new and secretive ways. He agreed to come in later that week alone to discuss details. He braced himself to hear whatever the counselor meant by “details.”