“I took a little tour of my own up to see Kelly in Portland. I’ve been gone nearly a month before I came here.”
“And?” Andy was hoping Sven and Kelly had rekindled their little affair they’d started during the last mission to the Canaries.
Dallas and Conley broke away and headed for the building.
“She turned me down, Andy,” Sven whispered. Andy stopped in his tracks.
“Why would she go do something stupid like that? You guys were perfect for each other.”
“I think Jenna’s long recovery has had a lot to do with it. I keep thinking she’ll be back, but she doesn’t want that life now.”
Andy didn’t have to ask if Sven was ready for the same. At some point in his career, he knew that risking it all, leaving Aimee behind, perhaps with kids too, might not be his priority in the future. It was something every SEAL had to deal with at the end of the last mission. Kyle had told him about guys who came to talk to him, and he told Andy he could almost see that spear lodged in their chest—the blade engraved with the words: I quit. The biggest problem with quitting was facing the fear off what would come next. Would they ever find something else that excited them so, working with brothers who would die for each other?
“She’s still young. Maybe she’ll come to her senses,” he said, placing a hand on Sven’s shoulder.
“She’s kinda getting used to her father-in-law’s good wine and comfortable digs. And she deserves it, Andy. She’ll get bored in time. And she’s working with Jenna, who is still traumatized. I think she wants to help Colin with his new venture too, the security company. The one Tucker’s thinking about.”
“Tucker isn’t ready yet.” Andy was certain of this.
“I told Kyle they should send Tucker over with me. Not sure what happened. Your Peterson is going to need help, Andy. You know that, right?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Even before I left Coronado to visit the Rileys, there was talk about this team being a real fuckup. Now why would Kyle put you here with these guys?”
“Because I wanted to stay in Little Creek, closer to Aimee. They lost their senior medic and Kyle thought it would be big shoes to fit into and would help me advance up the ladder.”
Sven let his lower lip peel forward and shook his head, a scowl forming. “Watch yourself. Peterson is no Lansdowne. Kyle runs a pretty tight crew. Even the wives are tight, like sisters.”
“Yup. That’s the way it’s done.”
“You guys have had a run of bad luck.” Sven squinted, then tapped Andy in the middle of his chest, thinking as he did so. “Nah. I think once you guys get your sea legs, you’ll be fine. What you frogs need is a couple of good firefights and you’ll be right as rain, you’ll be communicating without saying a word, like Team 6. You’ll be finishing each other’s sentences before long. You’ll get there,” he said as he winked.
“Good to hear you say that, Sven. All the same, I’m fuckin’ glad you’re here.”
“Shoot. I wouldn’t miss this for anything. They actually pay me to have this kind of fun.”
They both laughed.
Sven added, “What a life, right? I’m sure as hell no carpenter and they better not put me on fence detail.”
“And I’m not going to go training baboons who can tear my arms out of my sockets. I don’t care how endangered they are.”
“Hell, I’ll help them become even more endangered if they touch one hair on your head,” Sven chuckled.
Andy felt like some of his jitters were floating away, just by trash talking with a man who had faced years more wartime challenges and close calls than anyone else he knew. For a while this morning and yesterday, he’d felt like he and Dallas were the only two seniors on the crew.
Which didn’t bode well for a good outcome.
But with Sven by his side, at least they had a fighting chance to come out in one piece. Aimee had called it magic, the magic of their love story, and thought it would keep him safe. What it really was, Andy thought, was courage to bust through anything coming after him, and to never give up. There would be lots of blood and dust.
He wanted to walk through his front door back at Sunset Beach on his own two feet, not delivered in a pine box.
No pixie dust anywhere.
Chapter 9
Aimee’s insides were jumbled all the way home. Mr. Kornblum was smart enough to leave her alone. She’d been worried she’d say something to him she’d regret later on. Her foul mood continued, aggravated by late afternoon traffic. A downpour descended upon the car as they sped down the freeway. The bridge over to the Gulf was gleaming in the fresh rain like a giant silver arch. The sun was so bright, even through all the rain, that it hurt her eyes.
Kornblum flipped her visor down and that did give some relief.
As they traveled to the bottom of the arch, the car slowed to make the right-hand turn to Gulf Boulevard. Here the traffic was just as crowded, but only single lane in each direction, and at a considerably slower speed. He successfully dodged pedestrians who were either crossing the road to view the sunset or coming home from a day on the sand.
The attorney cleared his throat. “Can I offer you a drink, or perhaps I can treat you to an early dinner? Not sure about you, but that hospital sandwich we had for lunch wasn’t all that satisfying.”
“I should be the one taking you to dinner. You did all the driving. I’m not being a very good guest.”
“I don’t mind, dearie. You have a lot to take in. And you’re facing it all on your own, with Andy being overseas.” He let that sink in a bit, and then added, “How long will he be gone again?”
“This one has no set time limit. Could be a few weeks, or up to four months. We just never know.” Aimee knew it wasn’t the time or distance away from Andy that worried her. It was the fact that it was a new team, and Andy had said he had to find his place. He’d also confided in her that Africa continued to be one of the most dangerous places to be deployed. But she couldn’t share any of that, and maybe that’s what had her tangled up in the hammock of the rotten mood. “I say the dinner’s on me. You pick the place, though. Pick what you want. I’m not sure how hungry I’ll be.”
“Very well. Seafood? Crab?”
She nodded, and then blushed at the memory of some of their early dinners out, after their love affair had flamed to perfection, the hot steamy nights, butter and crab all over her body and the effects of her margarita sparking her libido. Whatever the day’s concerns were, Andy could always work it out of her, leaving her feeling soft, pliable and well-loved. She missed his tenderness. Right now, the world was looking like it was going to smack her in the eye and laugh at her cruelly.
He was pulling into Crabby Bill’s and the usual scene, no matter if it was Tuesday or Saturday night. There were the early diners who came to meet their retired friends, Snowbirds, from up north, taking advantage of the specials and driving themselves carefully home in their golf carts. Later would come the younger couples and some families, who would play darts, or listen to the guitar player singing for tips and beer. And then the party scene started in earnest around eight, groups of couples or single men and women standing across the room from each other, judging the pickings or dancing to the music of a western combo.
If he’d have given her the space, she would have apologized, and given some excuse for the way she was reacting, but she couldn’t think of the words to say.
What am I feeling?
But as they were shown to a table outside on the shell-strewn patio, in a corner near the parking lot, Aimee realized the noise of the early evening would probably preclude any discussions they were to have. She was okay with it.
Force of habit with a touch of melancholy allowed her the space to order her favorite strawberry margarita. Kornblum ordered a beer.
“Well, Aimee, I’d say we were pretty lucky. Carmen was having one of her good days. I’d say, the best I’ve seen her.”
“I was expecting someone way more
infirmed, especially for someone under hospice care. I’ve seen people walking around all over the place who look dead compared to her. She’s very sharp. At least she was, until the end when she was talking about Hank coming back to her. Doesn’t it usually work that she would go join him? And she mentioned Andy—”
“It happens at this stage, Aimee. I had a long conversation with her on the phone one day. I actually think she forgot who I was. Perhaps might have mistaken me for Hank. She was prattling on about everything she’d done that day, and of course none of it was true. She doesn’t drive any longer. She certainly doesn’t go swimming in the ocean any longer.”
“But she used to.”
“Yup. She’s very convincing, so it’s hard to really know where she’s coming from. She’s describing the place she’s traveling to. Like another one of her adventures. They used to meet up over the years before they lived together. And then she’d go back to California and he’d return to New York. Boy would I like to be a fly on the wall in those days.” He smiled into his glass and took a long swig of his beer.
“I’ve had a little experience with my parent’s estate when they passed. And it was important that we documented everything while my mother was well enough to be considered of sound mind. Don’t you worry about that with Carmen?”
“I think she knows what she’s doing. We’ve kept our business meetings very short, and I only proceed when I’m certain all the marbles are in place. I also usually get a witness to everything she signs, someone who isn’t on my payroll. And I’ve never been asked to do anything that I felt was bad for her, or for someone else. It is her desire that you inherit her money, Aimee. She could give it all away to charity, but she wants you to use it. To have it to enjoy.”
“As long as the house remains the same size.”
“That’s a requirement. You can modernize it, but you can’t tear it down. And if it’s damaged in a hurricane, and it has been damaged over the years, it has to be rebuilt to the same size it is now.”
“I think I understand better what she meant by doing that. Almost like the house captured, trapped something there that will escape if it’s torn down.” She sipped her drink, closed her eyes and pretended Andy was home, sitting right in front of her. But of course, he wasn’t there when she opened her eyes.
“I set it up today so you can go back on your own and visit, if you like.”
Aimee was touched with his gesture. “Why is she doing all of this? Has she told you? Why me?”
“Because you loved the house in its dilapidated condition and have now restored her to the beauty it was when she lived there. When they lived there. In a way, she’s put you on a mission—a mission to explore inside yourself what the house brings out of you. Almost as if it’s an old friend and not just a physical house at all. She’s treating it like a sentient being, in a way.”
“Do you know the history of the property? Is there something else I’m not aware of? Some backstory?”
He shrugged. “You’d have to ask her. All I know is that they were very happy there. It was his touchstone, a place where his creative energy could expand, where he could write his books. I’m guessing she wants the same for you. She found her writing ability there. Maybe you have some talent you haven’t explored yet. Who knows?”
On the way home, Kornblum surprised her with his comment.
“You haven’t asked me how much money is in her estate, Aimee. Aren’t you curious?”
“I don’t want to know.” It was out before she could retract it. “Neither one of us came from real money. I have to honestly say I’ve never chased it, either.”
He gave a belly laugh. “Boy, young lady, I don’t run across many people like you. It’s usually the first thing anyone asks.”
“I just want to know why.”
He walked her to the front door and extended his hand. “Nice to spend some time with you today, Aimee. I hope you get all your questions answered, and if I can help in any way, just give me a ring.”
“Thanks, I will. You’ve been very generous with your time.”
“I still work for Carmen. She asked me to prepare you and was delighted when you wanted to meet her. I hope that when the time comes, I can help you manage your estate as well, but that’s entirely up to you. So, you see, there is a bit of a selfish motive there. I am an attorney, after all.”
She laughed, feeling comfortable around him. “Well, we’ve made a good start then. Thanks again.”
Aimee watched him pull out from the driveway, back up, and then wave to her as he exited to find the road back to Tampa. She dialed her front door code and took a step across the threshold but stumbled on something at her feet. She found a small brown box, so small, in fact, that she’d missed it entirely when she started inside. The box was tied with a piece of white ribbon about a quarter inch wide, ending in a bow.
Aimee shook the box and it rattled. She examined the underside and all the edges to see if there was a note or some sort of notation written anywhere indicating where it had come from. She turned around and searched the alleyway and didn’t find any curious onlookers. When she untied the ribbon, she found a small bracelet made from objects she’d seen on the beach over the past year she’d lived there.
There were several shells, mostly white, but many with colors of yellow, purple and rose and where a hole had developed along its journey to her hands, someone had used a piece of wire and twisted it carefully to attach the shells to the bracelet. There was a smooth turquoise piece of sea glass, with wire crisscrossing and encapsulating it, and then attaching it to the rest of the strand. There was a pink piece of lacey calcified coral, a smooth black pebble and a yellow and clear cat’s eye marble, all with tiny holes inserted in them so that they could be attached to the rest of the strand. As she examined the objects, she also found a partial bottle cap, and an orange plastic fish charm, as well as a green plastic coffee cup stopper.
Someone had installed a clasp between two charms and when Aimee opened it up and placed the bracelet around her wrist, it fit perfectly. She snapped it closed and held her hand out in front of her, shaking the little pieces so lovingly stitched together.
On her heel, she whirled around to face the alleyway again.
“Is anyone out there?” she called, her voice echoing against the concrete carport pad and bouncing against the walls of the place next door. “Hello? Did you make this for me?”
Listening for any sign of life, she walked out to the alleyway and first looked to her right, and then her left.
“I’d like to say thank you. It’s very beautiful,” her voice echoed to the silent houses and cars nearby. “Very unusual, and everything looks like you found them here on this beach, which makes it even more special. Won’t you come out and talk to me? I’d like to personally thank you for it.”
But no one answered.
On her steps back to her still-opened front door, she examined the box inside to determine if there had been any clue left as to who either the artist or the giver was. But just like the silent alleyway, she found no clue as to who had left this gift for her.
One last time she studied the garage and alleyway from her porch. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll take good care of it.”
Aimee set the box on the coffee table, kicked off her shoes and was on her way to the kitchen for some water when something caught her eye. Through the living room sliding glass door, she saw where someone had drawn a heart in the sand. Inside were two names:
Aimee and Andy.
When she saw how her name was spelled, using the proper spelling her mother had given her, not a more common way to spell Aimee, she knew all of a sudden who had made this bracelet for her, meant as a wedding present.
Logan!
She scanned the beach in both directions as the orange glow of sunset covered everyone and the stiff peaks of purple clouds slowly bloomed in the sky. It was impossible to see everyone’s faces, but no one looked in her direction. Retrieving her cell from her
jacket pocket, she took a quick picture of the heart and their names drawn on her patio.
Aimee ran to their bedroom and pulled out two of Andy’s long-sleeved work shirts she’d hung up from the dryer and didn’t need ironing. She folded them into a small square, one on top of the other, then added a pair of his jeans, rejecting Andy’s paint jeans and opting for a decent pair with no holes in them. She got out an old pair of running shoes he’d recently complained about, and two pairs of thick socks, two pairs of briefs and two white V-necked T-shirts. She also found a light-weight jacket that would make a good windbreaker and could be worn in warm weather. She removed a small tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush she’d gotten from her dentist at her last cleaning, still wrapped in plastic.
Everything was neatly folded and placed in one of her shopping bags. She added a bar of soap, and some liquid hand sanitizer, two apples, two bananas and a half loaf of wheat bread. She also found a small unopened mango juice container, and two water bottles.
The bag was heavy as Aimee lifted it to her door and set it down on the doormat. To the empty carport and alleyway beyond, she shouted, “Thank you. Please accept these as my appreciation. I will leave more food tomorrow, if you like this. Please stay safe and warm, Logan.” Her voice faltered as her eyes filled with tears. “Just remember that I love you. That mom and dad always loved you until their last day. Let me help you, Logan. Let me be your big sister for a change. I want to help.”
Everything was still eerily quiet, but she felt someone was watching her all the same. Andy’s words, and those of the doctor she’d spoken to at the hospital where Logan had been in detox came shouting out to her.
Be careful. He could be dangerous. Don’t do anything stupid. He may not be the big brother you once knew.
And Andy had made her promise she’d do that, made her promise she’d not try to contact him or go looking for him while he was gone. But that was before Logan reached out from the near dead of the streets and touched her heart by making something with his own hands. And he also showed her that perhaps he knew about the wedding, for how else could it explain the heart drawing in the sand?
The House At Sunset: SEALed At Sunset - The Beach Renovation (Sunset SEALs Book 5) Page 8