“Mom, this is amazing. Thank you so much for bringing us here,” Julie said quietly.
Renee reached across and captured Julie’s hand. Together they sat and enjoyed the glorious sunset.
Chapter 19
Gift of a Sunrise
Renee shivered as he ran his hands up and down her arms, lightly brushing her breasts in their journey to encircle her waist. He pulled her close and she tipped her head up, tasting his breath as his lips came down to capture hers. Soft chirping sounds floated in the air, muffled at first but growing louder until the man in her arms dissolved and the squawking brought Renee straight up in bed, disconcerted from both the dream and the sudden racket.
“Dammit,” she muttered, trying to get her bearings. She hadn’t enjoyed a dream like that in a long time. Where am I . . . and what’s all that damn noise? It was dim, but her eyes started to adjust. She could see the outline of her bedroom in their Fiji cottage.
She had left her window open when she went to bed, to enjoy the lull of the ocean. The sun was starting to reach pale fingers across the sky. A flock of birds must be perched in the tree right outside her bedroom window, all fighting over the same worm. Renee got up and slid her window shut. She lay back down, trying desperately to pick the dream back up—his lips . . . his skin—but it was hopeless. Although the clock on her bedside table read 6:00 a.m., she was wide awake. Her internal clock was all screwed up after the long flight and time zone difference between Fiji and Minneapolis. Sighing in resignation, she plugged in the coffee pot. Might as well go for a walk on the beach while it perked so she wouldn’t wake the kids.
Her hair was a wild mess after going to bed with a wet head, so she threw it up in a high pony. As she quietly squeezed out the sliding glass door, a cool breeze made her glad she grabbed a jacket. The sun was high enough so she could see her way to the beach. No one else seemed to be out yet. Wisps of fog lay low on the water. She walked down to the water’s edge. The tide was low and the beach littered with mysterious relics from the sea. Renee spied a small shell next to her bare foot. Stooping, she picked it up and brushed off the sand. No chips marred the concentric ridges ringing the outside, and it was as smooth as silk inside. She dropped the perfect little shell in her pocket.
She meandered her way down the beach, head down. She found a few more shells and slivers of tumbled sea glass, adding them to her pocket from time to time. She ambled on, not paying attention to her surroundings in her quest for treasures. She spied a bigger shell a few feet up the beach and switched course quickly, stooping to scoop it up.
A soft crunching of sand and a grunt brought her up sharply and something banged into her shoulder, knocking her down. More stunned than hurt, she lay on her back, gazing at the sky instead of the sand.
“Jesus, are you trying to kill me, lady?” a vaguely familiar voice muttered next to her.
Turning her head, she was shocked to see the sheriff from the day before kneeling in the sand next to her, a hand on his heart. His light gray sweatshirt was stained with sweat, and he wore long shorts, his feet bare. Gone were the sunglasses, and vivid green eyes glared at her. Recognition dawned in those eyes as he realized who he mowed down on the beach. He plopped down on his butt in the sand, stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. He laughed so hard, he couldn’t talk. He was trying to say something and motioning to her with his hands, but she couldn’t understand him.
Renee’s first thought, the split second before she recognized him, was that the man from her dream was back. But in a huff she realized who it was and she jumped to her feet, brushing sand off as best she could.
“What the hell is so funny?” she yelled at him; the whole incident had knocked her equilibrium off. “First you almost kill me and then you sit there and laugh like an idiot!”
In her rage, she stepped toward him, jabbing her finger to emphasize her points. When she got close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. Instinctively, she recoiled and tried to scoot away, but he was stronger. With his free hand, he reached toward her hair and she felt a tugging. Suddenly he was holding a grotesque, multi-legged creature in front of her face. His eyes streamed from laughter, but he took note of the look of horror on her face. Afraid she was going to start screaming again, he quickly tossed the harmless sand crab far up into the sea-grass rimming the beach. He rose to his feet and offered her a hand.
Ignoring his offer, she rolled away and got to her feet. Embarrassed—and still angry at him for laughing at her—she gave him one last glare and headed back up the beach toward her cottage.
Watching her retreat, the man seemed to realize an apology was a good idea and jogged to catch up with her, this time keeping a safe distance between them.
“Look, I’m sorry I ran into you back there,” he said. “I saw you combing the beach, although I didn’t recognize you, and had no intention of disturbing you. The sheriff, remember? Matt. I jog out here most every morning and always see people combing the beach. You veered right in front of me at the last minute, and I didn’t have time to turn and miss you. I’m sorry—I hope I didn’t hurt you . . .?”
Renee ignored him for a minute then stopped, turning to face him.
“Oh all right, I admit I should have been watching where I was walking. I didn’t hear you and thought I was alone on the beach. Not real smart on my part. I think it was your laughing that ticked me off. By the way, what the hell was that creature you pulled out of my hair?”
“Oh, he was harmless,” Matt replied, waving off her question. “Those little guys are always scurrying around on the sand early in the morning, before the birds try to pick them off as lunch.”
“Gross.” Renee shivered, not appeased by his response, feeling guilty for being rude. “Sorry I overreacted. It was as much my fault as yours. Can I offer you a cup of coffee to make up for my rudeness, and to properly thank you for helping us yesterday? I put the pot on before I left for my walk.”
“As tempting as a good cup of coffee sounds, I’m gonna have to pass. I need to shower and get to work. Early shift today. Thanks, though. Maybe if I run into you again during your stay you can make it up to me then.” He turned on his heel, jogging off in the direction he’d been running before they collided.
Still shaken, Renee rushed the rest of the way back to her cottage. What was the matter with her? Here she was, in a strange country where she didn’t know a soul, walking alone on the beach in the early morning, paying no attention to her surroundings. Matt could have easily been someone else, and she could have found herself in a much different situation. Gotta keep my wits, she vowed, and headed back to the cottage, thinking as she went that the sheriff was kinda cute, even if he was irritating as hell.
The kids were still sound asleep, so Renee filled her coffee cup, grabbed her carry-on bag, and went back to relax in one of the chairs by the shore.
Today was Sunday, December 30, and tomorrow was already New Year’s Eve. Time flies in paradise, she thought. She was so glad they didn’t have to leave until the following Saturday. Lulu had invited them to an annual New Year’s Eve party. There would be dancing, good food, and people of all ages, so the kids were looking forward to it, but they still had today and most of tomorrow before the party. She would leave the schedule for the next couple of days to the kids.
Renee dug around in her bag. In addition to her books and journal, there were also four envelopes. Three bore her dear aunt’s scrawling handwriting. She would open hers on New Year’s Day, probably sitting right in this same spot as the sun rose to greet a brand new year. The fourth envelope was addressed by a different hand and was made out to her in-laws. While she was excited to open the missive from Celia, opening this envelope and reading this letter again filled her with trepidation.
Renee knew she needed to give Grant Johnson’s request serious consideration. She shouldn’t put it off any longer—certainly not till New Year’s Day. She pulled the yellow legal pages out and unfolded them on her lap, ag
ain reading the words. Words written by a man claiming to be the brother of her dead husband.
As her eyes scanned the letter, undoubtedly worded carefully by Johnson, her mind spoke in her husband’s voice. It was as if he were asking her to help the brother and niece he never knew.
Renee set the letter aside and reclined farther in the lounging chair, eyes closed, considering her different options. Unbidden, the volunteer working the Salvation Army kettle the day she lost her job popped into her mind. Hadn’t she promised herself she would focus more on other people in the future? But she was scared. Her husband had been gone for ten years. She was afraid to meet his other family. She considered the possibility of this being a hoax, but she didn’t think that was the case. Marilyn admitted they’d adopted Jim as an infant, and knew he had a twin through her correspondence with the birth mother—had proof of it, even.
What worried Renee most was the possibility of opening her children up to more heartache. What if they did reach out to their cousin, tried to help her, and she still didn’t survive? Close on the heels of that thought was the realization her children could also be at risk. If either Julie or Robbie were facing a deadly—but possibly curable—disease, wouldn’t she do everything in her power to get them the help they needed? And her kids already knew about the situation because Marilyn shared the story in front of them. What message would she be sending to them if they didn’t try to help?
She needed to call Johnson when they got home, maybe even before that if she could. She couldn’t ignore his request for help. She had no way of knowing if either Robbie or Julie would be a match, or if the girl was healthy enough for a transplant, but she knew they needed to try. Decision made, Renee felt better. She would discuss it with the kids, of course, but she felt confident they would agree.
The sliding door interrupted her thoughts. Julie carefully made her way through the door with full hands, using her foot to push it shut behind her. She carried a steaming mug in one hand, a plate of donuts in the other, and a thermos tucked in by her elbow. Renee folded up the letter and stashed it back in her bag.
Setting her goodies on the small plastic table between the same seats they used the night before, Julie plopped down next to her mom. She looked relaxed, sipping from her cup. The contents were so pale, Renee wasn’t sure if she was drinking coffee or hot milk.
“Is that coffee?” she asked Julie.
“Of course,” Julie replied. “I figured out it was easier to stay awake for study sessions if I had a cup or two. But I can’t stand it black. By the way, thanks for doctoring my cup for me last week when I was outside with Molly. That was a nice surprise. Forgot to thank you.”
Renee peered at her daughter. “What are you talking about? I didn’t doctor anything up.”
Julie’s brow furrowed. “Hmm, maybe I did it myself and forgot. I poured a cup and then Molly was having a fit so I went outside with her. When I got back inside, it was how I like it—lots of milk and sugar. I thought you did it . . . but I must have. Robbie wouldn’t think to touch my coffee.” Julie took another sip, shrugging it off.
Déjà vu . . . Renee was reminded of the package left on the porch at her parents’, addressed to Julie, and feelings of unease returned. She hadn’t told Julie anything about the gift. But she didn’t want to scare her; it was time for some discreet digging.
“So how is school going, honey?” Renee inquired, keeping her tone light, refilling her coffee cup from the thermos. “We haven’t talked much about your first semester except for your classes. Are you and Zoey getting along? Have you made lots of new friends? Any boys catch your eye?”
“Let’s see . . .” Julie sipped from her cup, thinking. “Zoey and I are fine. Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves but that’s probably normal. I met some fun girls. You remember Anna, the girl we took the Christmas presents to? She’s great, lots of fun. She dresses a little crazy and you might think she was a partier, but she isn’t. When she isn’t working, she spends most of her time studying. She doesn’t have a safety net, like I told you, so she has to make this work. Then there’s Emma. She’s the girl on our floor with family twenty minutes from school. Remember she invited me, Anna, and Zoey over for Thanksgiving? I think you would like her folks. Her mom even had us help her pull out all her Christmas decorations after Thanksgiving dinner was cleaned up so she could decorate the next day. Made me homesick, wishing I was home setting up the tree with you like we always do.”
Renee nodded. “It was strange for us too, Julie, not having you home for Thanksgiving. Robbie helped me get everything out but disappeared when I started doing the actual decorating.”
“Typical Robbie,” Julie muttered, and they both laughed.
“It took me twice as long without you, honey, and it wasn’t nearly as fun,” Renee finished.
Both sat quietly for a bit, knowing there would be more holidays in the future when they might not be together.
“And how about boys?” Renee prompted. “Did you go out with anyone? You haven’t said much about the guys at school.”
“Well . . . as a matter of fact, I did meet a guy. His name is Lincoln.”
Now we are getting somewhere, Renee thought as she sat a bit taller in her plastic chair.
“We met at the homecoming football game. He’s cute, and seemed nice—”
“ ‘Seemed’?” Renee cut in.
“He was getting too clingy,” Julie admitted, “so I’ve been trying to let our relationship slow way down. We went out some, when we had time, and studied together, but it isn’t anything serious. Dating started out fun, but he wanted to be together all the time and it got old. I was glad we would get a break during the holidays. I probably need to tell him officially that it’s off when we get back to school. I thought he’d get the hint when I stopped wanting to do everything together, but . . . he doesn’t take hints.”
“Sometimes people only see what they want to see. You probably do need to sit down with him and tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” Renee counseled. “Have you talked to him since break started?” As she said this, those thirteen unread texts popped into her mind.
“I have, but he called and texted so much, I tried to ignore him for the last few days. Mom, honestly, I was so happy to get on that plane and leave my cell at home for a week. He was smothering me. I slept great last night, not having to wonder how many times my phone would go off.”
Renee wasn’t thrilled about what she was hearing.
“Did he ever scare you, Julie? Did he threaten you or anything?”
“No, nothing like that. He never yelled at me or pushed me around or anything, Mom, really—don’t worry. I’ll take care of it when we get home, maybe even before I go back to school.” Julie looked at her mom. “I don’t want to talk about Lincoln anymore, if that’s all right with you. I just want to enjoy the beach, sun, and fun for the next week.”
“Fair enough,” Renee replied. “No more talk about boys, or school, or anything even remotely depressing. From here on out, let’s just enjoy ourselves.”
And with that, the subject was closed for the rest of the trip.
Chapter 20
Gift of Night Waves
Both Robbie and Julie voted to hang out at the beach Sunday and Monday—which was perfectly fine in Renee’s opinion. Neither wanted to do any formal excursions, and Renee was glad not to have the added expense. The beach behind their cottage got busier late morning through early evening, filling with families, teenagers, and retirees, all out to enjoy the beautiful weather. Renee couldn’t believe she was sitting in eighty-degree temperatures in late December.
Julie sunbathed, read, and snorkeled. She floated around in the bay for an hour at a time. Renee constantly reminded her to keep putting on more sunscreen so she wouldn’t fry.
Robbie quickly made friends with two boys visiting from Georgia. They spent their time playing volleyball and watching pretty girls. At one point they even talked the girls into a match. Renee laughed
when the girls beat them without any trouble. The guys weren’t as cocky after that.
Renee loved watching the kids. She felt more relaxed than she had in years. Lulu and her husband handled all the cooking and cleaning. All Renee did was soak up the sun (she wore a hat so the rays wouldn’t bleach out her new hair color she’d splurged on before Christmas). Her kids didn’t yet appreciate how lucky they were to have a mother who kept them slathered in sunscreen since they were babies. If they kept up the habit, they might avoid sunspots like the ones dotting her arms, legs, and back. Renee grimaced when she thought back to her teen years at the lake with friends. They’d all doused themselves in iodine-infused baby oil to dye their skin even darker. The only reason she ever wore sunscreen when she was younger was because it smelled like “yummy coconuts,” as she used to say.
By Monday afternoon, they were water-logged and drained from so much time in the sun. Robbie fell asleep in a hammock strung in the shade next to their cottage. Julie decided to nap in a covered cabana next to the pool to get a break from the sand. Renee laid down in the cool cottage. A band began warming up for the night’s festivities down the block, waking Julie up first. Eventually all three were up and showered, dressed in the only festive clothes they packed.
Julie looked stunning in a yellow halter dress, her hair lighter from two days in the sun and her skin a shade darker despite all the sunscreen. Robbie put on the bright coral shirt he’d bought earlier from a shack down at the market, and donned his best pair of shorts. Renee slipped on the other dress Jess sent with her: a pretty aqua with a pale shimmery shade on top bleeding into nearly black at the gauze hem. Robbie surprised her with a dainty sea-glass necklace from the market. It looked perfect with her dress. She wore simple white flip flops to avoid sore feet by the end of the evening.
Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1) Page 11