She reached over and ruffled his sandy brown hair with her fingers. "Oh, I like you already, Ben. So is your dad around?"
"In the house," he said. "Go ahead and let yourself in. I'm going to finish up this board."
She knocked on the door to the house, then went inside. "Hello?" she called as she glanced around the spacious modern kitchen. Unlike Abby's house, with its Tuscany touches and faux vintage charm, this house was sleek and classic looking. The espresso brown leather sectional and low, heavy coffee table gave it a masculine feel, and yet the creamy shag area rug made it seem friendly and inviting, too.
"Hello?" she called out again as she went over to check out the view. The house was positioned to take full advantage of the ocean's beauty. Caroline sighed. She could be so at home in a house like this.
"Hello there."
She jumped to hear Victor's voice from behind her. "Oh!" She turned quickly. "I hope you don't mind. Ben told me to come in."
"Not a problem." He smiled warmly. "Can I get you something to drink? A soda or some iced tea?"
"Water would be nice."
He nodded. "It's always good to hydrate before you hit the waves."
"I love your house," she told him as she followed him to the kitchen.
"Thanks. I can't take too much of the credit. I bought it furnished."
"Well, it's perfect." She sat down on one of the metal barstools and waited as he poured two glasses of ice water.
"That's what I thought too. Not over-the-top by any means, but comfortable."
"And the view ..." She sighed. "It's awesome."
"Can't complain about that." He set the water in front of her, then took a sip of his own. "I considered myself pretty lucky to find this place. Or maybe I should say blessed."
"Blessed?" She peered curiously at him.
He chuckled. "Well, lucky works too. But I do believe that God has been generous to me. And I want to be grateful for that. So maybe I should say blessed. It sounds more intentional."
"That's so funny," she said, "I was actually thinking about God as I drove out here."
"How so?"
"To be honest, I wasn't feeling exactly grateful. In fact I was feeling more perturbed than anything else. I've just been to see my mom and, well, she's so old and miserable and not even in her right mind. I feel so sorry for her. I was wondering why God lets someone like Cathy Gardener kick the bucket when she's got so much life left to live, but meanwhile, he allows someone like my mom, who has pretty much nothing, to keep hanging on." Caroline felt embarrassed. "I'm sure that came out all wrong. It's not that I want my mother to die, I really don't. But I just hate seeing her suffer. I'd really like to move her to a care facility, but she is so darn stubborn." Caroline was on the verge of tears. "Oh, I don't know why I'm rambling on and on like this. I'm sorry. I must sound like a basket case."
"You sound frustrated."
She nodded, then took a long, cool sip of water. "I am."
"Well, I'm no expert on God, but I do know from experience that he has his own way of doing things. When I'm patient, things usually work out for the best in the end."
"Patience." She considered this. "That's never been my strong suit."
"Hey, Dad," called Ben from the garage. "You got some more lady friends here. Should I send them in?"
"Of course."
Janie and Abby came in, and although Caroline was glad to see them, she was a little disappointed, too. Things had been going well between her and Victor, but now she was forced to share him.
"We brought a picnic," Abby was saying. "Enough food to feed an army, I'm sure."
"Are you going to surf too?" Victor directed this more to Janie.
"Not on your life," she told him. "We are here to be spectators only."
Ben called into the house. "We better get going if we want to catch the tide at its best."
"My wet suit's in the car," Caroline told Victor.
"Go and get it," he said. "You can change in the bedroom down that hallway to your right."
Caroline jogged out to the car, wondering what on earth she was getting herself into and yet not really caring. At least she was alive and doing something. If nothing else, it would get her mind off of her mother. That was worth something!
She grabbed her wet suit and bag and hurried back to the house. After locating what appeared to be a spare bedroom, she slipped into the swimsuit she'd found at a beach shop just that morning. It was a one-piece cut low enough to reveal her cleavage and high enough to make her already long legs appear even longer. As she admired herself in the full-length closet mirror, she thought it really was a shame to cover all that up with a wet suit. On the other hand, she didn't want to freeze her buns off. Perhaps she'd have time afterward to sun herself and get warm without the aid of the wet suit.
"Ready to do this thing?" Victor asked as she emerged from the bedroom.
"I think so." She smiled with uncertainty.
"Good for you. Ben's got your board out there already, and the girls are setting up a picnic site on the beach. I'm just going to grab some folding chairs for them. I'll meet you out there."
Before long they took the plunge. As they walked into the surf, Caroline couldn't believe how cold the water felt to her exposed skin, and she was extremely thankful for the wet suit.
"You going to be okay?" Victor asked when they were about waist deep. "You look a little chilly."
"I'm getting used to it." She forced what she hoped was a brave smile. "I think my toes are numb."
"Once you start moving, you'll warm up," Ben told her from the other side. "Let's rock and roll!" Then he shot out on his board, swimming on out toward the waves.
"I'll wait for you," Victor told her. "Feel free to take your time if you need-"
"That's okay," she said quickly. "I think Ben's got the right idea." And so, she imitated Ben, throwing herself on the board and shooting out toward the deeper water. But the next thing she knew, a big wave slapped her right across the face. She went one way and the board went the other. So much for her carefully applied makeup.
Victor helped to reconnect her and her board. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm okay," she said with chattering teeth. "I just needed to get used to the water."
He chuckled. "That's one way to do it."
On the second attempt she managed to stay on the board and made it through the surf without being tumbled. Then she slowly paddled out to where Ben was already positioned, straddling his board and looking behind him for a wave.
"You made it," he shouted.
"Barely," she admitted as she struggled to get herself upright on her board. She did not want to plunge into the water again. Not yet anyway.
Soon the three of them were all ready and waiting for a wave. "Here she comes," yelled Ben. "Get ready, boys and girls."
So, trying to remember the procedure, Caroline paddled to what seemed the right spot in the wave, then attempted to get her feet beneath her as the board began to move faster. But, just like that, the board went one way and she went the other. Only this time she swallowed what felt like a gallon of seawater. She came up sputtering and breathless.
Victor's face was a mixture of amusement and concern. "You sure you want to do this?"
Caroline looked longingly at the sunny beach, then shook her head. "Maybe it's not such a good idea."
"At least you tried."
She attempted a smile, but was shivering so hard it wasn't easy. "If the water was a little warmer."
"Oregon surfing's not for everyone."
"You go ahead and have fun," she told him. "I'll join the spectators."
He nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to catch a few waves with Ben. He's getting ready to head back to school this week. So this might be our last chance for a while."
She held up her fist. "Cowabunga!"
He laughed and then turned to paddle out toward his son. She went as fast as her frozen feet could take her toward shore, lugging the surfboard along with h
er. She couldn't remember when she'd been so happy to see dry land. It was all she could do not to bend down and kiss the warm sand.
"Not as much fun as you expected?" ventured Janie with what looked like a suppressed smile.
"That water is freezing!" she exclaimed as she clumsily unzipped and peeled off her wet suit, grabbing up a towel to wrap around her goose-pimpled flesh. So much for showing off skin today.
"Can you believe we used to swim in it as kids?" Abby said.
"We must've been stark-raving nuts." Caroline held out a foot. "Look, my toes turned blue!"
"The sun will warm you up in no time," Janie patted the dark blue chair next to her. "Sit here, it's nice and toasty."
"I'll admit it was a little bit of an adrenaline rush at first." Caroline sat down in the sun-warmed chair and sighed. "But I'm guessing that might be my last attempt at surfing-even if the ocean turned to bathwater. I swear I must've swallowed a gallon of seawater."
"I have to give you credit for trying," Abby told her.
"And for coming back in one piece," Janie added.
Caroline looked out across the water. "It's hard getting old."
"We're not old," Janie said defensively.
"No. I didn't mean us," Caroline explained. "I was thinking about my mom."
Chapter 11
ABBY
"You could be a professional caterer," Janie told Abby as they were putting away the remnants of their beach picnic.
"You really could," Caroline agreed. "That Greek salad was awesome."
"Oh, it wasn't much." Abby waved her hand but took secret pleasure in the praise as she snapped a lid onto the remaining coleslaw. Food might be the way to a man's heart, but compliments on her cooking went straight to hers.
"Everything was great," Ben told her. "Seriously, that was the best chicken I ever tasted." He glanced at Victor. "Sorry, Dad."
Victor laughed. "I attempted to make chicken parmigiana a couple of nights ago. Complete disaster. It looked like a burnt offering."
"Neither of my parents can cook," Ben told the women in a confidential tone. "Makes me wonder how my brother and I survived."
"You poor thing." Abby closed the picnic basket. "Maybe you won't mind if I leave the leftovers with you, then."
"All right!"
"But you might want to get them into a fridge," she warned, "before anything goes bad in this sun."
Ben picked up the basket. "Not a problem."
"Janie made a good point," Victor told Abby. "If you ever decide to start a catering business, count me in as a customer."
Abby was beaming. "You know, I've considered catering before. But Paul is really opposed to the idea."
"Why?" asked Caroline.
"He just thinks it won't work, that it'll be a waste of time and money." She sighed. "He's probably right."
"But if it's something you really want to do," Janie persisted, "why not do some investigating? Gather some evidence to convince Paul otherwise."
Abby grinned at her. "You sound just like an attorney."
"Don't remind me." Janie frowned. "I've been ignoring my email all day."
"Good for you," Victor told her. "You're supposed to be on vacation."
"Unfortunately the firm doesn't seem to have gotten that same memo yet."
"Do you know how long it's been since I've had a real vacation?" Caroline mused. "I mean, more than just a few days snatched here and there. I can't even remember."
"I know what you mean." Janie shook her head.
"I used to know what you mean." Victor leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly.
Abby felt a conflicting mix of guilt and envy. On one hand some people might think her life was nothing more than one big, long vacation. She could sleep in as late as she liked, walk on the beach whenever she wanted. Really, she had a life of relative leisure. The problem was, she didn't want it. More than ever, she had the desire to be doing something useful and challenging and maybe even profitable. Was it ridiculous for a fifty-three-year-old woman to want a career? She wasn't sure.
"Like I keep telling myself," Caroline continued, "I'm on vacation now. Just relax and have fun. But at the same time, I know I really need to use this time to help my mother get settled into a better place. In fact I should probably go right now. I only have a couple more days to figure this thing out. So far it's like hitting my head against a brick wall."
"Are you going to call that woman Lois told you about?" asked Abby.
"That's at the top of my list." Caroline stood and stretched. "Although I'd really rather go take a nap."
"The ocean air and exercise does that," Victor told her.
She looped the handle of her big bag over one shoulder, then bent to pick up the surfboard.
"Just leave the board." Victor stood. "Ben and I can take care of that."
"And you just stay put," she told him. "At least someone should be enjoying this gorgeous day." She waved and told everyone goodbye, then took off.
"Poor Caroline," Janie said after she was gone. "She's really in a tough spot with her mom. I hope she can figure something out."
"It sure makes me thankful for my mom," Abby told them. "I mean, sometimes she gets on my nerves. But I'm so glad her mind is sharp and she stays active. She's got this really great circle of women friends. It makes such a difference."
"Here's to growing old in style like your mom," Janie said as she held up the last of her drink. "I want to be like her someday."
It was hard to admit, but Abby did too. Only she didn't want to wait until she was her mother's age. "I have a confession to make," she said.
"What is it?" asked Janie.
Abby regretted opening her mouth. "Oh, it's really silly."
"Come on," urged Victor. "They say confession is good for the soul."
Abby took in a deep breath. "Well, here it is, then: The truth is, I really don't have any good friends. I mean, I have friends. But no really close, good friends. And I have to admit it's a bummer."
"But I'm your friend," Janie told her.
Abby nodded sadly. "Yes, but you live so far away. It'll probably be ages before I see you again."
"You're probably not in the market for guy friends," Victor said apologetically. "But I'm still trying to get to know people in town, and if you want-"
"Of course I consider you a friend." Abby reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "And I'd like you to get better acquainted with Paul, too."
"Great. He seems like a good guy."
They talked a while longer, but Janie was looking at her watch now. "As much as I hate to break up the party, I really need to get some things done today. I'm trying to make some decisions on my parents' house."
"What kind of decisions?" Victor asked as they gathered up chairs and things.
"Like whether to list it for sale yet. I can sell it as is, but it's so run-down and dated that I know I'll be leaving a lot of money on the table. And yet, realistically, do I have time to do much else?" She turned to Abby. "I'll bet Paul could recommend someone to help me fix it up."
"Do you want to fix it up?" Abby asked as they trudged through the sand toward Victor's house.
"Well, I was in it today." Janie brightened. "And I could imagine that sad old house with new windows and new cabinets and new countertops and the old hardwood floors refinished, and I got this, well, kind of a rush of excitement." She looked embarrassed. "I probably sound like I've lost my mind."
"You actually sounded happy," Victor told her.
"That's true," Abby agreed. "You did sound happy."
"Happy as in, I must be living in La-La Land. Really, there's no way I can manage a renovation project like that from Manhattan."
Abby stopped walking and turned toward Janie. "I could help you!"
"Really?" Janie looked hopeful. "How?"
"Well, I know the building industry pretty well," Abby began. "I know most of the contractors in town, who's good and who's not. And I picked out a lot of things for
our new house. In fact I still have a lot of catalogs. And I know the Web sites, and I know the products. Oh, Janie, I really could help with your house."
"You would do that for me?" Janie looked incredulous.
"I would so love to do that." Abby nodded eagerly. "I've been wishing for something to do. I need a project-something to get me out of bed in the morning."
"I would pay you for your-"
"No." Abby firmly shook her head. "I can't let you pay me. That would be too much pressure. I could only do this if you let me be a friend helping a friend."
"Well, your house is beautiful," Janie told her. "So it's obvious that you know what you're doing. Although our tastes are different."
"Which is as it should be. I wouldn't want to help you recreate my house. You need to make your house the way you think it should be, but keep in mind that you want it to appeal to home buyers, too. You don't want it to be too taste specific."
"It sounds like you really know what you're talking about," Janie said as they set the beach chairs in Victor's garage, and then followed him into his house.
"Thanks to Paul, I pay attention to the building industry. We never miss a home-and-garden show, and I watch the homeimprovement channels on TV."
"Oh, Abby," said Janie happily. "You're really giving me hope."
"Sounds like you girls are a match made in heaven." Victor tossed some used towels toward what looked like a laundry room.
"So what kind of style do you like?" Abby asked.
Janie looked around Victor's house. "Actually I like this. Kind of classic contemporary."
"Why, thank you." Victor did a faux bow. "I wish I could take the credit and say I designed this myself. At least I had the good sense to buy it."
Abby patted him on the back. "Yes, you are a smart consumer."
"And I could see maple cabinets in the kitchen," Janie continued dreamily. "Kind of like these, only in lighter tones. The house isn't as bright as this one." She ran her hand over Victor's dark granite countertop. "And granite, too, maybe a little lighter than this. Of course, stainless appliances."
"Those would all be good choices for that neighborhood," Abby told her. "Already I'm getting ideas."
"Have you considered holding on to that house?" Victor asked Janie. "As an investment? Or perhaps a place to retire to someday? That is, if you ever decide to quit working."
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