Beach Rental

by Greene, Grace

  “She has my sympathy.” The memory of the weedy, muddy bottom made her shudder.

  “Oh, not at all. I think it suited her fine. She was laughing. Leslie’s a good sport.”

  A good sport. Did that mean she, Juli, hadn’t been a good sport? Melancholy swarmed over her from out of nowhere. “Maybe she and Luke will hit it off.”

  “Maybe.” Maia gave Juli an odd look. “Aren’t you two getting along better?”

  “We are. It’s important to Ben. And we both want the same thing—to do what’s right for him.”

  “How’s it going with Adela?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Ben talks to her on the phone when he thinks I’m not around. Adela never calls the house, probably because she might have to hear me say hello.”

  “I think we’re almost there. Amanda said it was the first dirt road past the red barn.”

  Maia slowed as they approached a road. “It’s graveled. Should I try it?”

  “It looks fresh. I say go for it. If it isn’t the Barlow house, we’ll try again.”

  The tires crunched all the way up to the house. It was rose-colored brick, low and sleek in front with a multi-storied back section that rose above the front of the house and was ringed by windows.

  A forty-something woman with perfect makeup and a silky-looking suit met them at the door and ushered them in. She gave Maia a quick hug.

  Maia said, “Juli, this is Amanda Barlow. Amanda, this is Juli Bradshaw. She was kind enough to keep me company on the drive out here.”

  Amanda fixed her baby blues on Juli and asked, “Haven’t we met? You look familiar. I never forget a name or face.”

  This was the woman who’d been clinging to Luke’s arm at the party. The woman who said her ring had been stolen. Juli felt the words bubbling up, originating somewhere inside and borne up by the air from her lungs—the explanation of why she seemed familiar.

  Maia spoke offhandedly, interrupting her. “She’s Ben’s wife.”

  “Ben Bradshaw? I heard he married. Sort of last minute, wasn’t it?”

  “Practically an elopement,” Maia said. “So romantic.”

  “I see.” But Amanda didn’t look convinced.

  Juli shrugged. She bent over to help Maia remove the brown wrapping paper from the etchings they’d brought.

  “Maia, dear, would you place them around the room where you think they’d look best?” She walked across the room, her heels clicking on the stone tile. “You know, I don’t believe I’ve seen Ben since the party at Marcel and Petra’s house, and barely then. He must have left very early.” She settled her eyes on Juli again. “Were you already married then? Perhaps I saw you at the party with Ben?”

  Juli wanted to say it—I was the help. You might recognize me more easily if I were wearing my little white cap and black skirt. She was ready to throw the truth out for Amanda’s inspection and be done with it. She had nothing to hide.

  “My ring was stolen at that party. It was my mother’s and I hate to think I’ve lost it forever.”

  Amanda’s remark dashed her like ice water. Innocence wasn’t enough armor.

  “I heard. It’s terrible. Perhaps it will turn up yet.” Maia stood back and pointed. “What do you think? These two would look good over the console.”

  “You have a good eye for such things. I trust you absolutely.”

  Juli watched Maia’s apple-cheeked, dimpled smile. Didn’t Maia feel deceptive? Less than honest?

  Amanda spoke up. “I’ll have the contractor hang them. You’re a dear to have brought them out to me. I’m sorry to rush, but I have to be at the airport in an hour. The car should be here soon.”

  Back in Maia’s car, Juli said, “We should’ve told her.”

  “Told her what? I was hoping for a closer look at the house so I’m kind of disappointed. Amanda’s personality kind of grates, doesn’t it?”

  “We should’ve told her where she’d seen me, as a server at the Hammonds’ party.”

  “Why? I didn’t not tell her. I jumped to the next step and told her you were Ben’s wife. Nothing else is her business.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes, southbound on Rt. 70 until the Barlow house was well behind them.

  Maia continued, “Amanda Barlow is a gossip of the highest order. Giving her grist for her gossip mill is the same as encouraging her. You wouldn’t give whiskey to an alcoholic, would you? Or drugs to an addict?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then.”

  “It doesn’t feel right.” A tiny lie here and there. Little white lies. Who did they hurt? She’d told a bunch of them herself, so she could hardly fault Maia. “Maia, do you think I had something to do with the loss of her ring? Is that why you spoke up?”

  The long pause nearly killed her.

  “Juli. Why would you ask me that?” Maia’s voice was small.

  “Then why—”

  “Why did I cut you off when you were about to tell Amanda you were working at the party? Because I didn’t want Amanda Barlow speculating about you, the marriage, maybe even about what happened to her ring all over creation to anyone who’d listen. And plenty of ears would be thrilled to listen and pass it along.”

  “I don’t have anything to hide.”

  Maia groaned. “If I thought you had anything to do with the theft, or any other crime—well, I know you didn’t because I know.”

  “You know because you know.”

  Maia giggled. “Impeccable logic.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I know.” She reached over and touched Juli’s hand.

  “Thanks. Maia, keep your eyes on the road, please?”

  ****

  By the time Juli had stopped at the grocery store and returned home, twilight reigned.

  Juli stood in the darkened living room, silence close around her.

  “Ben?”

  The first sharp edge of panic touched her. It was too early for him to have gone upstairs to bed. She dropped the grocery bag and her purse on the floor and headed toward the stairs, then saw a silhouetted shadow on the porch. Juli approached the window, but didn’t go outside immediately. His head was held low and his shoulders curved inward. He sat, unmoving, with one hand up to cover his face. The grief in his posture gripped her heart and tears welled in her eyes.

  Had Frankie come back despite Luke’s warning? Had something else happened?

  Ben didn’t look up when Juli walked out the door, nor when she stopped in front of him, so she didn’t speak, but pulled the empty rocker closer to his. The runners scraped against the porch floor. Ben dropped his hand from his face.

  “Juli.”

  She sat in the rocker, rested her arm on the smooth wooden arm rest and reached her hand across to grasp his. “Ben,” she answered. This was an abrupt change from this afternoon. Juli was wary and afraid. “What’s up? Didn’t Luke come over? Is something wrong?”

  Ben stared straight ahead for a few minutes. When he spoke, his voice was low and grave, heavily laden with regret. “Luke drove me to the doctor.”

  Juli was afraid to ask for more. She couldn’t find the words that would ease the heart of his sadness. “To the hospital in Morehead?” Where his oncologist had his offices, but she left that part unspoken.

  Ben cleared his throat and nodded, yes. “Early on,” he gave a rueful laugh, “he suggested some experimental treatments. Clinical trials. I didn’t want to be a guinea pig. I felt well enough. I accepted death. I wasn’t in a hurry to die, but I wanted to die well, if that makes any sense. Or, I thought I was okay with it. Honestly, I don’t think I accepted what he told me, that the end was inevitable and not far away. I felt so good, Juli. Tired, yes, but I was recovering from an illness, so that was understandable. Then I met you and knew I was lonely. I asked you to share these last weeks with me. And now….”

  “Go ahead. What?”

  “Now, I’m regretting the decision not to seek aggressive treatment. The odds wouldn’t have been good even then
, but maybe.” He drew in a slow, ragged breath. “I made an appointment with him for today thinking it might still be worth a try, even if it only extended….”

  He fell silent again. The answer he’d found in his doctor’s office seemed obvious given his downcast air. Gently, she squeezed his hand.

  “I hope you aren’t angry Luke took me. I didn’t want to say anything to you about it until after I’d spoken with the doctor. False hope and all that.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Juli, I haven’t really lived in many years. I didn’t know it. I had things, people, events in my life, but no real heart since Deb died. Dr. Lewis said I’d waited too long. For treatment, I mean.” He snatched his hand away and placed the heels of both fists against his forehead.

  Juli’s chest seized and her heart ached. For his regret, she could think of nothing to say except the usual platitudes and that wasn’t enough. Before this, her personal relationships had never been close. She mentally rummaged through what experience she did have and came up empty. Words failed her. Her lips felt numb.

  It was as if a weight was pressing hard against the back of her eyes, forcing moisture out even as she fought crying. She wanted to support Ben, not bring him down further. Why should she care so much about him? This was a business relationship—or rather he crafted their relationship as a business arrangement because her heart wasn’t engaged—because it wouldn’t hurt her.

  But she didn’t know him then, his value, and he didn’t know her. They didn’t know they would come to care about each other. He cared a great deal, Juli knew. Her chest ached, her throat was tight, and the pressure behind her eyes was relentless.

  Juli reached over and reclaimed his hand. Her pain at the thought of his loss must surely communicate itself in the tight grip of her fingers, the almost-controlled trembling and the warmth of her flesh. These sensations must say what she couldn’t vocalize. Oh, Ben, I love you.

  He leaned toward her as she leaned toward him. The awkwardness of the two separate chairs didn’t prevent them from reaching each other, their hands enfolding. Their foreheads touched in mute despair. When they stood, Juli rested her face on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was a fool.”

  “What?”

  “A fool. An arrogant fool to think I was ready to die. Remember how I told you that for me it was almost instant, the feeling that I wanted to be with you? I was a fool to think it was enough to bring you into my life for companionship for a few weeks, that it would be good for both of us. A liar. I lied to us both, but it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There are many ways to lie.” He pulled her more tightly into his embrace. “You were the breath of life, a stranger who didn’t see me as a dying loved one, someone with whom I could pretend I had a future, as if you were a lifesaver I could attach myself to, then leave quietly without regret when the time came. I was a fool. I’m not afraid of death, and I’ll go when God says it’s time, but I don’t want to die now, not yet. I want to be with you.”

  She felt his breath on her hair as he worked his fingers through it, caressing the back of her head, the nape of her neck. A sigh slipped past her parted lips. He urged her head back, stared into her eyes, then slowly his lips touched hers. Their kiss was something they built together, designed by love and grief.

  Finally, offended by the premature tears, Juli broke the spell of the kiss.

  “You aren’t dead yet. You don’t even seem sick. Not very. Just tired.”

  She wouldn’t mention his discomfort, or how thin he’d gotten. He needed to eat more, and treatment might help that. “We’ll go see the doctor together. I’m going with you this time, no argument. If there’s nothing to be done, I want to hear it for myself.” Stubborn, digging in against fate, was her style. Not bewailing her fate, but instead, fighting it tooth and nail.

  The corners of his mouth turned up in a shaky smile. “I love you. I love you for many things, in so many ways. I won’t try to list them. I love those things because they are you—all a part of you. When I think of you I see crystal, brilliant with light, and diamonds, strong and beautiful.”

  She laughed. “More like a junkyard dog.”

  “Persistent, yes, but glorious in action. Nothing junkyard dog about it.”

  “Will you call the doctor or should I?”

  He ran his hands down her arms. “He was very clear when we spoke.”

  “I’ll call him then.”

  “You win. I’ll call him tomorrow morning. I understand you need to hear it yourself, but please don’t go hoping for a miracle.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with believing in miracles?” Asked the girl who never learned to dream and she shivered.

  His mood turned solemn, too, and he brushed his lips against her hair. “Dearest Juli, I believe in miracles. I think, however, we—you and I together—may have already had ours.”

  ****

  In the morning, Ben called the doctor’s office.

  “When’s the appointment?” Juli asked.

  “Not ‘til next week.”

  “Next week?”

  “He’s out for the rest of this week. Margie got us on his schedule for the first thing Monday.”

  “I guess it’ll have to do.”

  He kissed her cheek, his lips cool and dry against her skin, and she hugged him back.

  “What’s one week?” he said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ben slept late on Friday morning and Juli became anxious. The floorboards squeaked overhead when he rose from bed and walked across the floor. She jogged up the stairs, relieved to hear him stirring. He was groggy as he often was when taking his pain medication.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  He made a noise that didn’t qualify as an actual word.

  “I’ll start breakfast when I hear the shower stop.”

  He gave her a look that seemed to challenge her assumption that he would start this day as every other day, but then he gave in and nodded.

  When the sound of water stopped, Juli started cooking breakfast. Two fried eggs, over easy. The English muffins sat in the toaster oven, waiting for the button to be pushed. The grape jelly sat on the counter.

  “Ben? Breakfast is almost ready.” Juli called up the stairs.

  The eggs cooled on his plate. Not a big deal, there were more in the fridge. She dumped them into the trash. The English muffins still waited for her to start the toaster. Not a problem, they weren’t going anywhere.

  Juli put his juice back into the fridge to keep it chilled.

  She refused to acknowledge that today would be, could be, any different from the preceding days. Their usual routine suited them.

  Ben came to the breakfast table and Juli cooked up fresh eggs.

  “Just toast, I think.”

  “Too late, the eggs are already cooking. Just eat what you can.”

  She pushed because even two bites were two bites more than he would’ve eaten otherwise.

  During the meal, he said, “I think you should take your GED exam now. You’re ready.”

  “What? There’s so much I don’t know.” She glanced over at the books stacked on the coffee table. They might be a little dusty.

  “You’ll never know everything. No one can. You’re smart. You cut traditional schooling short, but your learning didn’t stop. You soak stuff up like a sponge—wherever you are and whatever you’re doing. Go ahead and take care of it. If it doesn’t work out, you can try again…but it will and you won’t need to.”

  His hair was still damp around the edges. Juli touched her cheek to his hair as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “I’ll sign up. When I pass the test, we’ll celebrate.”

  Ben pulled her hand down to his lips and kissed the back. “A party. And don’t be sensitive about it, Juli. Declare it. Praise God for his guidance and declare your accomplishments to the world.
We’ll invite Maia and Luke. What about Anna? Who else?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll check to see when the tests are scheduled.” She ruffled his hair with the hand he hadn’t claimed. He wanted her to succeed now so he could celebrate with her. She wanted it, too.

  “Juli, I was thinking it might be a good idea to get a small bed, maybe a cot or something, for the study. Not because I need it, but it would be good to have in case I don’t want to climb the stairs.”

  She beat back the protestations and swallowed hard—gulped. “It might be a good idea. Maybe we should trade in the rattan sofa for a sofa bed. It would be useful if we had guests or something.” She blurted out, “Plus, if you do those clinical trials, you may feel extra tired for a while.”

  Ben started to nod, then looked away abruptly. He got up from the kitchen table and walked slowly over to the table by the window to sit and push puzzle pieces around. Juli stayed at the kitchen sink, hunched over the cooling dishwater, scrubbing the already clean frying pan. The clean sudsy smell reminded her of the Cox Family Restaurant and the meal that had turned out to be their first date.

  Inevitability was closing in around them like the sliding walls in some sci-fi and adventure movie—Juli didn’t remember which one. The walls were hard and cold, coming together slowly, inexorably, as the hero and heroine stretch their arms wide to prevent the steel walls from meeting. The walls are mechanical in their intent and impossible to prevent, but the brave heroes try nonetheless, unwilling to accept their fate because what lies ahead is unthinkable. She crossed her arms, gripping her upper arms with her hands, wishing they were strong enough.

  Someone knocked on the door. She saw their neighbor through the glass. “It’s Mr. Spagnoli, Stay put. I’ll get it.”

  Ron was tall and broad, built like a wrestler, and with a thick head of hair. “There’s a hurricane on the way. I’m an inland kind of guy. Do you know if this is anything we should worry about?”

  “I’m no expert either. Ben will know.” Juli stepped back. “Come in.”