Life as We Know It: A Treasure Key Novel

by Sarah Bates

  “Good to know.” Aunt Nora reached out and patted my shoulder. Then she cocked her head and hummed as she studied me.

  “What?” I asked again, and I suddenly wondered if maybe I had melted ice cream on my face and no one had said anything about it.

  “Have you ever considered modeling?” she asked.

  I have to admit this was the last thing I had expected her to ask. “Um, no. Why?”

  She smiled brightly. “I just think you should,” she replied. “Every quarter I have a sales flyer printed, introducing that season’s styles, as well as a clearance section for things from the previous season. I used to have actual models come in and do it, and a professional photographer, but then the girls wanted to try it a couple of years ago, and I preferred showcasing local girls and women, so they’ve been doing it ever since, along with some of their friends and their moms. Delaney took over as my photographer last year when my usual photographer couldn’t make it due to a conflicting schedule, and it turns out he’s got a really great eye for such things.”

  Unsure what to say to that, I glanced at my mom to see what she thought of it.

  “Sounds like it could be fun,” my mom said.

  “Really, then I don’t suppose you’ll agree to try it out, too,” Aunt Nora said, and she grinned when my mom grimaced. “Oh, come on, Alice. It’s just one day, and like you said, it’s fun.”

  “I said it could be fun,” my mom muttered, and she sighed when Aunt Nora lifted her eyebrows. “I’m not exactly model material,” she pointed out.

  “And why’s that?” Aunt Nora asked, then she waved her hands in the air. “Just try it out – one outfit. And if you’re not comfortable, no harm done.”

  My mom considered this, then glanced at me. “I will if you will.”

  “What? But I…” Since I didn’t have a legitimate argument against participating, this was as far as I got. Sighing, I glanced back to Aunt Nora. “I want the same deal she gets.”

  “Deal.” Aunt Nora rubbed her hands together. “This will be fun. I’ll add you both to the roster. It’ll probably be sometime at the end of next week, maybe on Saturday. Just let me know your schedule, Alice, and I’ll coordinate it with Delaney and the others.”

  “Okay.” My mom nodded and reached under the counter for her purse.

  “Schedule?” I asked, looking back to my mom.

  She smiled brightly. “Schedule,” she repeated. “I got a job today.”

  I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “Seriously? Wow, Mom, that’s…wait, are you really happy about it, or are you pretending you are because you don’t want me to worry?” I asked, frowning in concern. Because really, my mom would do exactly that.

  Her smile softened as she looped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Actually, I’m pretty excited about it. Nervous, of course, because I haven’t worked since I was newly pregnant with you. But I’m excited.”

  “Okay, well, don’t keep me in suspense then. Where are you going to be working?” I asked.

  “Butler International,” she replied. “Derek called me this afternoon and asked if I was still looking for work, because their receptionist gave him her two weeks’ notice this morning. Apparently, her husband got a new job in Galveston, and he’s needed there right away. I start tomorrow, so she can use the two weeks to train me.”

  “Wow. That’s awesome.” I hugged her, glad that she was happy about it. “Speaking of work,” I said as I pulled back, “the thrift store is still hiring, so I was thinking I might go and fill out an application.”

  “Or you could work a couple of shifts a week here,” Aunt Nora suggested.

  “Oh, but…you’re not hiring,” I said.

  “No, but I’ve been thinking about it,” she replied. “Things have really been picking up lately, and once the holiday season hits I’m going to need at least one extra set of hands. The truth is, as popular as Treasure Key is getting with tourists, I might even need to bring on two or three. Especially on weekends. And I don’t mean to undercut New to You, because they’re a great shop – even I shop there on occasion – but I’d kind of prefer it that if my niece works retail, she works in my store. Plus, you can help Kat keep Margo reined in. The week before last she spent more than half her paycheck here, and that was after her employee discount. Between you and me, I’m thinking about staging an intervention.”

  As I’d experienced Margo’s enthusiastic passion for shopping firsthand at least half a dozen times since my mom and I had arrived on the island, I couldn’t say I blamed Aunt Nora for saying this. Margo’s obsessive need to shop did seem a bit like an addiction.

  “Let us know if you decide to do it,” my mom said, and she gestured for me to pick up my backpack.

  Wondering where we were going, I hefted my bag up and slung it over my shoulder. “We should do it soon,” I told Aunt Nora, referring to the intervention. “She was saying something about buying a surfboard earlier, because she thought it might go well as an accessory to this cute bikini she bought.”

  “She bought another bikini?” Aunt Nora sighed. “That girl has enough swimsuits to start her own secondhand beachwear boutique…wait. A surfboard, as an accessory?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what she said. Kat, Aly, and I talked her out of it while we were there, but I’m not one-hundred percent sure she won’t go back for it.”

  Aunt Nora sighed and shook her head. “Well, I guess I should call Connie and give her a heads up. You two have fun. And good luck,” she added to my mom.

  My mom grinned brightly. “Thanks. I have a good feeling about it.”

  “About what?” I asked, looking between them. “Your job?”

  “Well, that, yes. But I was referring to something else. Speaking of jobs, though, what do you say?” Aunt Nora asked. “A couple of afternoons after school?”

  I smiled and nodded, even as I felt a nervous flutter in my belly. I’d never had a job before. “Thank you, yes. I would like that.”

  “Then you can start tomorrow, too. Kat can show you the ropes.” She gave me a quick hug, then my mom as well. “Have fun, and let me know how it goes.”

  “I will,” my mom said as she hooked an arm around me and began to lead me toward the door.

  “Hey, where are you off to?” Kat asked as she walked away from the dressing rooms, where her two customers were each trying on a stack of clothes.

  “No idea,” I replied. “See you later.”

  She waved, much in the same way Aly and Margo had, with a waggle of her fingers, even as she turned to go join her mom at the checkout counter.

  “Where are we going?” I asked my mom as we stepped out into the stifling, humid heat.

  Her smile brightened. “I think I found us a house,” she said.

  “A,” my eyes widened in surprise. “A house?”

  She nodded, and caught her lower lip between her teeth, a little nervously. “Well, it’s a bungalow, so it’s small. Nowhere near as big as what we’re used to. But it does have two bedrooms and two bathrooms – one and a half bathrooms, but still, I think we can make it work. It does need some TLC,” she confessed. “But your grandpa and uncle Jim already said that if you give the green light for it, that they, and the boys, could help out with anything we need.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of that, as so far, her description was sounding a little ominous. But, well, we had agreed that we wanted to make a real go of it here on Treasure Key, so I decided to keep an open mind.

  Ten

  It was a little hard to keep that open mind when we got to the house and I got my first look at it.

  Full disclosure, it was very hard.

  The place had definitely seen better days, and from the look of it, hadn’t seen an update since the early 80’s. This was, of course, a guess on my part, as that decade had come in a prior century that I had not taken part in. But I’d seen movies from that timeframe, and pictures, too, so I was sure I wasn’t too far off in my estimation.

  And not
only was the inside rundown, but the land it sat on was a sorry patch of sand and scraggily bits of old sod, with the patches of sand being the most dominant.

  But, I’ll admit, my mom’s enthusiasm as she walked me through it and described everything we could do to fix it up was also hard to ignore. My mom, being a huge fan of all things HGTV, dearly loved to remodel and decorate. And the thing is, she’s good at it, too. More, she’s good at doing it on a budget, and she loved to repurpose flea market and garage sale finds – not that my dad ever knew this. He’d have had a fit if he’d ever found out there was anything secondhand in our house back in Minnesota. That little bit of information had always been mine and my mom’s little secret.

  So, it was with reminding myself of this fact about my mom, that on my second walkthrough I was able to feel that first inkling of possibility.

  The two things that clinched it for me in the end were the fact that there was a walking path that led to the beach – you could hear the ocean as soon as you got out of the car, even if you couldn’t see it – and the fact that, apparently, it was literally the only house on the island anywhere close to our price range, and that was only because it had recently been reduced after having sat on the market for a considerable amount of time.

  Hoping it turned out as great as my mom made it seem like it could be, I waited in the car while she talked with the real estate agent and made an official offer.

  The agent, who was one of Lucy’s nieces and a good friend of my mom’s from high school, was a tall, perfectly tailored, sleekly groomed woman with beautiful mocha skin and a gorgeous smile, wasted no time in calling the sellers with my mom’s offer. And given the look of sheer relief on her face, that offer was promptly accepted. I realized this must be the case, as she enthusiastically shook my mom’s hand, while my mom got a somewhat dazed look on her face.

  When she joined me in the car a few minutes later, she simply sat for a long moment and stared at the homely façade of what was to become our future home.

  “So, they accepted the offer,” she finally said, clearing her throat.

  “I kind of gathered that, from how relieved she looked when she was on the phone,” I said. I cocked my head as I studied her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” She laughed and shook her head as she looked at me. “Sorry. It’s just, I’ve never bought a house before. On my own. I mean…without your dad. It’s strange. I even low-balled my offer by ten-thousand.”

  “And they accepted it?” I glanced at the house quickly when she nodded. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Other than the fact it’s seriously outdated, nothing, I’m told. The offer is contingent that it passes all the inspections,” she added.

  “You can do that?” I asked, looking back to her.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I wouldn’t have put in an offer if I couldn’t. The owners are confident it’ll pass. Apparently, while the cosmetics of the place haven’t seen any attention since before I was born, they’ve been sure to keep up with the roof and A/C unit, and have made sure it’s treated properly against pests.”

  Since my mom had been born in 1983, I guess I called that one accurately.

  I had to admit, I felt a little smug about it.

  “I think they’re just desperate to sell, as they inherited it and were not keen on keeping it,” she added.

  There was a part of me that understood why, but since it was in fact going to be my future home, I decided not to voice this opinion.

  Instead, I cleared my throat and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Well, that just works in our favor,” I said, looking at it again, and hoping – desperately, desperately hoping – that we could make it as nice as she envisioned it. “So…” I looked back to her. “When it passes the inspections, how long will it take for you to sign the papers?”

  “It’ll be a quick sale,” she replied. “So, thirty days.”

  “Thirty?” I glanced at the house, then at her. “Is that normal?”

  “For a quick sale, yes. And that was the owner’s only stipulation. Apparently their twenty-fifth anniversary is coming up, and they’ve always wanted to go to Europe, and this will actually make that possible for them to do.”

  “Oh.” I hesitated, wondering how that made her feel. My dad had always promised he’d take her to Paris for their twenty-fifth anniversary, then he’d served her with divorce papers just before the twentieth. “Mom,”

  “I’m glad for them,” she said, knowing exactly what I had been thinking of. “Maybe someday you and I can make that trip together.”

  I smiled at that and reached across the console to rest my hand on hers. “I’d like that,” I said.

  “Me, too.” She gave my hand a firm squeeze, then looked out the window. “Well, the papers aren’t signed yet, but…welcome home, baby girl.”

  I looked out the window and stared at the house for a moment, then, because I kind of liked the idea of it – having a home that was completely ours – I smiled and looked back to her. “Welcome home, Mama,” I said in return.

  She blew out a gusty breath and nodded, then reached out to crank the engine. “We should celebrate,” she said. “Where do you want to eat?”

  I considered our options. They were, admittedly, few. But they were also tough to choose from. Then I thought of the other night when we’d decided to make our move more permanent by buying a house instead of trying to rent one. That night we’d eaten at Zorbas, and it had been great.

  Might as well make a tradition out of it, I decided.

  “Zorbas,” I said as she drove toward town.

  She laughed. “You know, if I didn’t know any better – and I’ve seen you with Hayden, so I do – I’d swear you might have a thing for Leo,” she said.

  “Nah, just his grandmother’s baklava,” I replied, and I grinned when she laughed again. “Plus, I guess I’m attached. It was the first restaurant I ate at here, and we ate there last Friday when we decided we were really going to stay here,” I added.

  “Ah.” She nodded in understanding. “I see. I like that. There’s a symmetry. A continuity.” She glanced at me quickly when she had to stop at a red light. “It’s our go-to place.”

  I smiled and nodded. “It’s our go-to place,” I agreed. And how strange was that, that we already had one of those?

  I mulled that over as she put her directional light on to make the turn to go to the Courtyard.

  When she pulled into the parking lot the place was packed, but as it was getting halfway through the usual dinner rush, that wasn’t surprising.

  I did frown, though, as it was already past seven o’clock, and tugged my phone from my bag. When I didn’t find any messages from Hayden, my frown deepened.

  “What’s wrong?” my mom asked as she parked in what had to be the only vacant spot in the lot.

  “Nothing. Hayden and I had talked about maybe meeting up tonight, to do homework together and hang out, but he hasn’t messaged me yet to let me know he’s out of work.”

  “Oh. Well, why don’t you go ahead and message him, and let him know he can join us for dinner if he’s free. I’d like to spend more time with him and get to know him, Chloe,” she said when I hesitated. “Especially if you two are going to be spending more time together.”

  I grudgingly nodded when she lifted her eyebrows, and shifted in my seat as I tapped out a quick text to him.

  His response was immediate and turned out to be a pouty faced emoji, along with a weepy one.

  Unsure how to respond, I stared at the emojis for a moment, and tried to decipher them.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to work too hard at it, because the explanation came a moment later.

  Would love to join you, but I have to rescue a Jeep from the surf before hightide destroys it completely.

  A picture followed with the caption: Some people shouldn’t be allowed to own vehicles.

  “Well?” my mom asked.

  I sighed. “He’s still at work,”
I replied, and I turned my phone to show her the picture of the brand new Jeep already half submerged in the water.

  She grimaced and shook her head. “He’s not wrong. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to own vehicles. I can’t believe there are still people out there that are stupid enough to do that.”

  “People race cars on the ice back in Minnesota,” I reminded her. I myself could never understand why anyone would want to take that kind of risk, no matter how thick the ice got. I am an indoor ice kind of girl, through and through.

  I was halfway out my door when I realized my mom was staring at me from her place still behind the wheel. “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just…that’s the first time I’ve heard you say that,” she said.

  “Say what?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

  “Minnesota,” she replied. “You always call it home. No matter what.”

  “Oh.” I felt a sharp tug in my chest, as I knew she was right. Even though it was never a conscious choice, whenever Minnesota came up in conversation, I always called it home, my heart unable to let it go. But now, though it had only been a few weeks, that had started to change.

  Treasure Key was home, too.

  Part of me was sad at the realization that I was truly starting to let it go and move on. But the other part of me, and I’ll admit it was the bigger part, was also a little relieved by it. Because now maybe I’d be able to think of our life there and simply enjoy the good memories instead of feeling inconsolably sad.

  “Well,” I finally said as I dropped the rest of the way out of the Volvo, “this is home now. And you just bought a house to prove it.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it and hummed in consideration. “Good point.” She studied me for a moment. “You know, Chloe, that if at any time you feel differently you can tell me, right?”

  I nodded, then looked around us, at the beautiful tropical paradise that was now our home, then looked back to her. “I know. But I won’t have to.” I gestured around us. “Other than hurricane season, there’s not much to dislike about this place. Well, hurricane season, and Neal Humphrey.”