Beach Rental

by Greene, Grace

  She had to survive the service, then the ride to the cemetery and the graveside service. She could do this for Ben. For Ben’s sake and in his memory, she wanted to avoid causing gossip as much as his family members did. They’d get through this day and then they could all move on with their lives.

  Tears welled in her eyes, stinging. She sniffled, but refused to cry.

  She rode to Bay View Cemetery with Luke and another relative. They sat in the front seat, she sat in the back. They’d had the good sense to put Adela in a different car. Juli settled back in the corner of the seat as if she might find a hiding place. She saw Luke checking on her via the rearview mirror. She met his eyes, then looked away.

  He was one of them. She wasn’t.

  They walked past the thigh-high red brick walls and then between the graves. She tried not to step on them, yet she was trapped in the front of the crowd making its way to the gravesite. She dared not stop. A tingly, jittery feeling started in her chest and the air felt thick. Someone moved in beside her and took her arm.

  “Juli.”

  Maia. Juli nodded. She wasn’t alone amid strangers and hostile acquaintances.

  They seated Juli in the front row of chairs, smack in the middle and directly in front of the casket, as befitted the widow. Maia remained standing near the end of the row of chairs. Luke had seated Adela. He handled her gently, murmuring soft words to her.

  She said, “–Deb. He’s next to her now, at rest. They are finally reunited.” Juli heard her clearly as did everyone within a few feet.

  Somewhere deep inside, she felt it rising, sharp and suffocating. Her ears rang and she began to panic. She couldn’t run for fresh air here. She was trapped and began to shake. Juli looked up, her eyes bypassing the flower-draped casket. She felt her calves tightening, preparing to stand, to escape. Anna caught her eye. She was standing near Maia who lifted her hand in a slight wave.

  Beyond Anna and Maia was a weathered, wrinkled face, topped by a snow white crew-cut. Dodge. Next to him were Laura and Donna, their eyes red and swollen. Billy Wooten stood with them, hair combed and dressed in a suit.

  The frantic feeling flowed out of Juli. She was in control. She could make it through. Maia and Anna were Ben’s friends, but they were also hers. Some of these people were her friends only. They were here because they liked her enough to show support by spending these hours at a funeral for a man they never knew.

  ****

  “Juli, these are my parents, Matt and Susannah Winters.”

  She saw two middle-aged strangers who looked remote. Sad? Yes. But around her, people were hugging and commiserating with each other over the loss of their friend. She was trying to figure out what to say when Adela’s voice echoed across the open cemetery. “What do you mean I can’t sell the house?”

  Juli cringed at her strident voice and the words. Fred Lawson, a kind man and Ben’s attorney, placed a hand on Adela’s shoulder and guided her across the sloping green lawn toward the line of parked cars. He was bending toward her speaking low, soothing her.

  When Juli turned back, Mr. and Mrs. Winters were gone.

  “Juli?” Pastor Herrin took her hands in his. “Your hands are cold. Are you alright?”

  He’d married them, and now had presided over Ben’s funeral, all within a span of about four months. “Thank you, yes. I’ll be okay.”

  “Please call me when you’re ready to talk.”

  She nodded, grateful he’d stopped to speak with her. He’d given the eulogy over the closed casket and made brief remarks at the graveside. Juli couldn’t recall a single word, only the calming cadence of his voice.

  Luke escorted her to the lead vehicle with a hand placed delicately, but firmly, behind her elbow. He wasn’t exactly friendly, but she didn’t sense the tension to which she’d grown accustomed. Was he subdued by grief? Or was it, now that Ben was gone, she would vanish from their lives in a matter of days?

  Adela had made the funeral arrangements and no gathering was planned at Ben’s house. Or anywhere. Food and fellowship following the funeral was customary. Juli suspected Adela wanted to cut her out. If everyone came to their home for food and condolences, it would have been impossible to exclude Juli. It was cruel and petty, but unwittingly, Adela had done Juli a favor. Having to host fellow mourners after surviving this day, would’ve been the ultimate nightmare.

  When they returned to the house, she was surprised to see two cars parked on their side of the driveway. Luke gave the rental car a long look. “The black sedan is Fred Lawson’s.”

  “Mr. Lawson and who else?”

  “Adela, I think.”

  She couldn’t miss the chilly tenor of his voice. She said, “No one’s in sight. Adela may have a key.”

  Luke frowned. “We’d better go up.”

  Luke had planned to drop her off and continue on his way. She tried to decipher what this change in plans signaled. He knew Adela better than she. Perhaps he’d play the intermediary. Did they think she had designs on Ben’s furniture and linens? Maybe they wanted to protect Ben’s pots and pans.

  Mr. Lawson was seated in the living room. He looked stiff and uncomfortable. He rose as Juli and Luke entered. Adela was not in sight.

  “Juli, I apologize for dropping in like this.”

  She felt warmed by his tone, but any comfort vanished when Adela emerged from Ben’s study. Juli bristled, an unexpected territorial instinct rising, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Luke. Juli.” Adela nodded in their direction. “Mr. Lawson told me I couldn’t put the house on the market yet, but refused to tell me more without you being here. Don’t think I’m cold.”

  Far from cold. If she touched Adela, they’d both combust.

  “I have to return home. I need to get on with wrapping up Ben’s affairs.” Adela walked over to Luke and wrapped her fingers around his arm. “I can’t leave all of the tasks to you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  She turned to Juli. “I don’t want to be unfair to you either. The way the real estate market is these days, you should have plenty of time to make other living arrangements.”

  Luke spoke, “Adela. She’s just come from Ben’s funeral. Can’t we take a moment to breathe?”

  Fred Lawson moved into the middle of the room, breaking up the conversation. “Adela. Luke. I’m sorry, I must ask you to leave, or, at least, to step outside, while I speak to Juli.”

  Adela replied, “Is this about the contract? It’s not a secret. Ben shared the terms with us. Luke is his executor and I’m his sister.”

  “I insist,” Mr. Lawson said.

  “Let’s get it over with, shall we?” Juli was tired of it all. “Then everyone can leave and I can have some peace.” She winced at the hard sound of her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult few days.”

  “I understand completely,” Mr. Lawson said.

  “Let them stay and be done with it. As Adela says, Ben shared the details of our arrangement with them.”

  Mr. Lawson nodded. “If that’s what you’d like.”

  He drew Juli over to the table, gently, as if she was fragile. His solicitude almost did weaken her, but she steeled herself to get this done. This last task.

  The pieces of that blasted jigsaw puzzle still littered the surface, about halfway done. Mr. Lawson sat at the end and she took a nearby seat. Luke stood near the door and Adela simmered a few feet away.

  “Ben asked me to speak to you privately about this after his death. Given the family tension, it may be as well to go over this with Adela and Luke present. Ben came to me a month ago and amended his will. He left all of his estate to you. His sole heir. Luke continues as the executor.”

  An explosive non-verbal sound came from Adela. Mr. Lawson turned to her and said, “Ben intended to inform you and Luke of the change in terms. His time came sooner than he expected.”

  Adela’s face suffused into a deep red. Luke’s face was carefully controlled. He said not a word, but walked up behind Adela and placed h
is hands on her shoulders. She erupted.

  “We’ll contest this. This woman took advantage of him. She’s a cheat, a thief.”

  Juli remembered the Hammonds’ party and Luke’s suspicions. It hurt that he’d spoken of them to Adela, but why not? There was no reason for him not to have spoken to Adela about anything concerning Ben.

  “Adela, please. Come with me.”

  Luke tried to lead her away, but she wasn’t having it. She shook his hands off of her arms.

  “This was a business arrangement. This marriage was for convenience. Platonic. Luke, you told me yourself they were no more than roommates.”

  “Adela, that’s enough.” Luke’s voice sounded weary.

  She persisted, “This wasn’t part of the contract.”

  Mr. Lawson had drawn back from her as if not wanting to be swept up into her tirade. Now, he said, “No. This is apart from the contract, but tied to the fulfillment of the contract.”

  “The contract was contingent upon her not breaking the marriage vows, being unfaithful. Adulterous.” He frowned. “Do you have reason to believe that the terms of the contract were violated?”

  Adela’s eyes burned. Luke moved closer to her. “Don’t do or say something you’ll regret. This is an emotional time. We’re all stressed.”

  Mr. Lawson shook his head. “Luke is right. This isn’t the time, and it’s a moot point in any case. It would have been up to Ben to revoke the contract, so unless you have some reason to believe—a very solid reason—that Ben intended to revoke the contract for cause, then there is nothing further to discuss.”

  Juli forced herself to speak. “I want you all to leave now. You’re discussing me and my character, as well as private matters between Ben and me. If Ben had wanted your opinion, he would’ve asked for it. He didn’t ask for mine either, but he has made his wishes plain.” Juli stood, gathering her dignity, wishing it were armor. “I need to lie down now.” She turned to Mr. Lawson, “I hope it will be okay for us to discuss this later. Perhaps in a day or so?”

  “That will be fine. Call my office.”

  “This isn’t over, Juli.”

  “Adela, I’ll take the house key.” Juli held out her hand.

  Adela looked at Luke and at Fred Lawson, as if demanding they come to her aid. She stalked over to the end table and fished inside her purse, pulling out a key ring. She twisted a key from the ring, then threw it to the floor.

  Luke hustled Adela out the door. Mr. Lawson stooped to retrieve the key. He placed it on the table. “Call me,” he said, and left.

  On unsteady legs, Juli crossed the room and locked the door, deadbolts and slide bolts included. She leaned there, her face against the cool metal for a minute. Her head was spinning and nausea was threatening in a mild way, but impossible to ignore. She hadn’t eaten today. Juli pushed away from the door, then jiggled the knob on the other door. Locked, too. She was tempted to collapse on the sofa, but instead pulled herself upstairs. She stripped as she went, dropping her clothing wherever it landed, and fell into bed.

  She slept heavily until three a.m. Frantic, confusing dreams woke her. She got up to use the bathroom. Lightheaded and shaky, she clung to the bedpost until the room settled down. The vertical blinds at the balcony door had been left open. Moonlight lit the open area of the room and across the hall the same moonlight touched Ben’s room. She followed the light into his room. It was almost as neat and impersonal as a motel room—like a weekly rental, like its twin in the duplex on the eastern side of the house—except for the shirt hung over the back of a chair.

  Juli put the shirt to her face. Ben’s scent was faint. This was his white dress shirt, the one he wore to church. She put it on. It reached partway down her thighs. She buttoned a couple of buttons somewhere in the middle and went downstairs, fuzzy-headed, thirsty.

  It was the pre-dawn hours of Sunday morning. The old renters would be gone soon and the new people would arrive later in the day. It reminded her of their wedding weekend, months earlier.

  Drawn by her memories, she walked out the door and down the crossover, barefoot and careful of splinters. The onshore breeze—light tonight—plucked at the shirttail, flipping the hem around her thighs and hips.

  She was alone again beneath the stars.

  The waves rolled up the packed sand and over her feet. Their roar was no longer a novelty, but a constant presence.

  She couldn’t hate the ocean for taking Ben. The ocean did what the ocean did, as did Ben when he chose to rush to the aid of the child, as he’d admired Juli for doing a few days before.

  It was as much her fault as anyone’s. No one’s.

  It was just what it was.

  She stood silently, head bent against the wind, hair wrapping across her face, catching in her eyes and mouth. She reached up to pull it away and found her face wet. Tears had come of their own volition, running down her cheeks, into the crease of her neck and wetting Ben’s white shirt. She fell to her knees and shared her grief with the ocean.

  Chapter Twenty

  Morning beach walks began and ended earlier—in the translucent dark between night and day. Sometimes the morning fog cloaked Juli, sometimes the air was clear, but few people were up and about at that hour.

  Pelicans skimmed the waves for breakfast before dawn. Sand pipers ran across the wet sand leaving miniature, twiggy footprints. One or two fisherman already had their lines out before the sun rose. No one wanted to chat in the pre-dawn hours. No one looked at her with curiosity—or worse, played and laughed, oblivious to what had so recently occurred. Among the transient population, memories of local events departed with the vacationers. History restarted itself for each new set of arrivals.

  Before the light was strong, she was back in the house.

  During the hazy days surrounding the funeral, new renters had arrived. She didn’t want to know their names. They arrived after Ben’s death and had immediately and enthusiastically jumped into their vacation with no regard for the tragedy shaking the world.

  Shaking her world. The only world she had.

  The new tenants were on the porch a lot. Their children constantly pounded up and down the crossover, running and chasing. They shouted and had water battles using the hose intended for washing sandy feet. Disrespectful.

  She stood at the front door, observing them through the glass panel, her hand on the knob, resisting the need to tell them—to instruct them—that this was a house of mourning. Her hand trembled. She stepped back and dropped the blinds, closing the slats. She went all around the main floor, closing blinds. When she was done, she sat in the dim living room with her hands folded in her lap.

  The funeral was a blur. There’d been a few friendly faces at the service. She’d met a handful of people, fellow mourners. Most had kept their distance. Even given the natural stress, Luke’s parents—Ben’s aunt and uncle—were very cool towards her. Or maybe they were grief-stricken. When Luke introduced them, they didn’t touch her in any way—not a hug or a handshake—and vanished when her back was turned.

  Light twinkled between the blinds where the cords cut through the slats. Ben would be disappointed. He liked light. Opening the blinds was the first thing he did every day. If he had his way they would never be closed.

  She went back around, pulling the cords to open the slats.

  It must be suppertime. Not that she was hungry.

  She’d only ever cooked for one, until Ben. It should’ve been easy to go back to her old habits, yet how many times would she pull the egg carton out to fix Ben’s breakfast before remembering?

  Her appetite had been suspended, but she knew it was temporary. The clock said one thirty-two p.m.

  Only one thirty-two.

  She sat again on the sofa to wait until she came up with something else to do.

  Surely, this was an ironic form of hell—trying to live Ben’s life without Ben.

  ****

  Juli called Mr. Lawson’s office on Monday morning and spoke with his adminis
trative assistant. They scheduled an appointment for Tuesday afternoon.

  Juli had a problem. Ben had paid all the bills. He hadn’t involved her in his finances. She’d expected to complete the contract, take the final payment and then go her way, so she never asked questions. Ben kept his bills current, but it wouldn’t be long before they were due again.

  She could hardly believe Ben had changed his will to make her his sole heir. Someone was going to snatch it back. Maybe they should. This hadn’t been part of the bargain, but then, neither had the feelings Ben and she had come to share.

  Juli had found an address book in the desk drawer and reviewed the names. Luke and Adela had contacted everyone who should be notified of Ben’s death. There were so many at the funeral service they could hardly have missed anyone.

  She didn’t know most of these names, but recognized the pastor’s name. She wanted to thank him again for conducting the service. Ben would like that. Juli added his name to the list she was making.

  She was in over her head.

  Who might help her? If she dared ask him, Luke would be best. He was the executor and Ben had told her to go to Luke if she needed help.

  Juli roamed the house most evenings, unable to settle to anything. Every creak and groan in the walls or the stairs seemed to demand attention, to warn of danger. She turned the TV volume up loud so she wouldn’t hear them.

  Early one afternoon Anna knocked on the front door. Juli saw her through the glass panel. She’d skipped classes since Ben died and she felt like a truant.

  Juli opened the door with a smile on her face, but it crumpled abruptly when she tried to say hello.

  “Oh, my dear girl. Cry. It will help.” Anna hugged Juli and guided her over to the kitchen chair. “I’ll make us some tea, shall I?”

  “I’m sorry.” She sniffled and drew a tissue from her pocket.

  “Cry some more if you need to, it’s fine. Get it out of your system and then get to work.”

  “Work?” Sniff. “Find a job?”

  “No, no. Get to your easel. There’s nothing like putting paint to canvas to cure whatever ails you. Be it heartbreak, grief, anger—paint it out.”