The Beach House

by Sally John

Sunrise. Pff. Like Char didn’t have ears. The woman had spent the night.

  In her mother’s room.

  It hadn’t been the first time, and now she was going to live in it.

  Heart pounding, Char stood rooted to the floor. Jo honked. Andie waved. Molly made a goofy face. Char didn’t budge.

  Until she heard the woman’s laugh from somewhere in the house.

  Char joined her friends. Jo backed out of the driveway. Molly asked what was wrong. Andie squeezed her shoulder.

  She didn’t tell them what was wrong until they all sat in a booth at her favorite restaurant, the table piled high with gaily wrapped birthday gifts. They had planned the surprise for her. That was when she knew they weren’t just putting up with her.

  The story of her dad’s betrayal spilled out. They listened. They loved her through it.

  But that was twenty-four years ago and she hadn’t been the one hurting others.

  Char carried her mug and went out the back door.

  Behind the house, Char sipped her coffee and scanned the narrow one-way thoroughfare. No one walked along it. She stood in what should have been the backyard area but was in reality a dry patch of dirt not much bigger than her walk-in closet back home.

  The area did not afford much privacy. Low fences and concrete walls divided tiny yards. Without turning she could see windows from a dozen homes, most of them tall like Julian’s. Directly across was a small one-story cottage where that vagrant had been hiding out.

  Char shivered.

  What an odd place. Brilliant sunshine and heat yesterday, eerily misty this morning.

  She heard a noise coming from Julian’s and stepped nearer Jo’s SUV in the carport. The last person she wanted to see was the neighbor! If she slipped along the far side of the vehicle, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her.

  She stole a glance toward his yard and froze.

  Andie?

  Touching Julian’s arm?

  In a gesture of familiarity, Andie rose as if on tiptoes and leaned into him.

  He leaned down toward her, his hand on her shoulder.

  She kissed his cheek.

  She kissed his cheek?

  And he smiled.

  Oh my word.

  They parted, calling out goodbyes.

  Andie turned left onto the alley and spotted Char. Her smile faded as she walked toward her. A large canvas bag hung from her shoulder. She wore what she called the “spunky outfit” she’d bought yesterday, a flowing top, floral print, apricot-colored linen, and matching cropped pants. It was a perfect look for her.

  “Hi,” Andie said.

  “Hi.”

  Andie stopped before her. “You’re up early.”

  “I…am.” Char was speechless, totally unable to segue from her jumbled thoughts to greeting her dyed-in-the-wool, Miss Goody Two-shoes friend at seven in the morning as she left the neighbor’s house. The neighbor’s arms.

  They stared at one other for a moment.

  Finally Andie said, “It’s not what it looks like.” She finger-combed her red hair. It was damp like Char’s, as if she’d just showered. “Oh, fiddlesticks. I can’t help what it looks like. How are you today?”

  “Um.” Words still failed her.

  “You look like you’ve got a hangover, but I know you don’t drink.”

  She shook her head.

  “Fortieth birthday?”

  She nodded.

  “Told you so.”

  Char stared in disbelief.

  Andie shifted the bag from one shoulder to the other. “Well, I’m off to re-celebrate my fortieth. You’ll have to schedule a do-over for yourself in the near future. See you tomorrow.” She turned.

  “Where are you going?”

  Andie faced her again. “You didn’t talk to the others? I’m spending the day by myself. I guess to face my fears. Bye.” She walked away.

  What in the world was going on? Andie at her spunkiest had never been abrupt, never borderline rude.

  Andie twirled around and called out, “Char?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you sleep with Paul?”

  Char’s eyes felt as if they might bug right out of her head. “Of course not! You’re my friend. He was always yours.”

  Andie nodded once and then turned again to continue on her way.

  Char watched until the mist enshrouded her friend and wondered again what in the world was going on.

  Forty-Five

  Jo left Molly on the patio and went inside the house to refill her mug. Char stood at the sink filling the carafe.

  “Char! It’s not even seven-thirty!” She stopped short of reminding her that she’d just gotten home a few short hours ago.

  “Hmm. Morning. I’m making more coffee. I drank all yours.”

  “No problem. Molly’s into tea today. I had most of the first pot to myself.”

  “Hmm.”

  Jo sensed something off-kilter. Char appeared dressed for the day in pale pink slacks and a white knit top. Her hair was damp. She showered already? And not dried her hair? And she didn’t say much. Even tired and grouchy, Char always bubbled over with words.

  Jo said, “Are you hungry? I’m going to make toast.”

  “No. Thanks.”

  Jo busied herself with bread and the toaster. “I’ll bring coffee out if you want to go sit down.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “Molly’s feeling like a semi ran over her.”

  Char flinched.

  “She ate spicy Chinese.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Did you have a good dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  Jo gathered peanut butter and jam, knives and plates, and waited for Char to expand. She didn’t.

  “So,” Jo said. “Where did you eat?”

  “The, um, Marine Room.”

  “Ah. Nice.”

  She nodded.

  “Char, are you okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I was just wondering because five minutes have passed and you haven’t called me ‘sugah’ yet.”

  One corner of her mouth slid inward enough for a dimple to appear. “Yesterday was…”

  The toast popped up, but Jo continued gazing at Char. Something akin to panic gleamed in her friend’s eyes.

  Jo said, “Let me fill in the blank. Yesterday was hazardous to your well-being.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Welcome to the club.”

  “I had no plans of joining.”

  Jo gave her a sympathetic smile.

  They sat round the patio table, nibbled on toast, and engaged in stilted conversation about the weather. When Char wasn’t watching, Molly threw Jo a befuddled look. She shrugged in return. They had agreed earlier that they would not interrogate Char about her evening. Jo’s question about which restaurant she and Todd ate in was their self-imposed limit.

  Char picked up her coffee cup. “Andie told me she’s spending the day alone.”

  They exchanged a glance. Andie had just told them last night. When would Char have learned—

  “I saw her this morning.”

  “You saw her?” Jo asked.

  “Leaving Julian’s. In the back. You didn’t know…?”

  Jo pulled at the neck of her sweatshirt. Now she would have to tell Char as well. Suddenly she thought of yesterday and how she had lectured Char on her plans with Todd. Her face felt hot.

  Jo said, “I knew. She left last night because I-I hurt her. She got angry.”

  Char simply blinked.

  “The thing is, after Andie’s rehearsal dinner twenty years ago, I made out with Paul in a bar.” She abridged the story. Being drunk was disqualified as an excuse. “I told her that last night.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “I imagine she didn’t want to spend the night in the same house with me.”

  “Well, I don’t think she spent it with Julian either.”

  “I saw her go into his house.”

  “Appearances can
be deceiving.” Char’s face, so soft and Southern, hardened.

  “I know. Char, I am sorry for chewing you out yesterday. I know I come across like a know-it-all, like—”

  “Sugar, stop right there and think about this. If Molly or I had cornered you at that bar, literally sat between you and Paul and told you what an idiotic thing it was you were considering doing and what a louse he was anyway and hardly worth it and how sad you would make Andie, would that have changed the outcome?”

  “I was drunk.” There went that resolution.

  “A part of you wasn’t. That part deep inside of you that always listened to us no matter how plastered you were.”

  Jo stared, now the one at a loss for words.

  “I didn’t sleep with Todd.”

  Gratitude flooded Jo. Molly smiled.

  “And Andie didn’t sleep with Julian. He and I talked at two o’clock this morning on the boardwalk, down a ways. I didn’t want to sleep here, either. Guilt and shame.” She shook her head. “I asked him if I could use his upstairs apartment and he said someone was in it. If that someone wasn’t Andie, I’ll snip every single one of my credit cards in half.”

  Jo said, “Appearances.”

  Char went on. “Yes, but you were on the mark with my appearances. With Todd, I—Well, you can imagine. I should thank you both for the lectures. No.” She paused, batting eyelashes damp with tears. “What I want to thank you for is showing me how much you care. Even after all this time.”

  Molly reached over and clasped Char’s hand on the table. “And even if something had happened last night, we would still love you.”

  “Something did happen! I went out with him, with motives nowhere near resembling innocent. I have flirted shamelessly with him for years. I feel so guilty.” She cackled in an unladylike way. “Probably because I am.”

  Molly said, “It doesn’t change our love for you or God’s.”

  “Oh, Molly. He can’t want me!”

  “Yes, He can.”

  “But I drained the hot water heater this morning trying to scrub all this gunk off of me.”

  “What gunk, hon?”

  “This whatever. It feels like tar!” She pulled at her sweater sleeve. “And I keep looking over my shoulder. Something is there. I know it! I can feel it!”

  “Char, we need to pray. Right now.”

  Char’s face crumpled. “Okay.”

  Molly held her other hand out to Jo. She placed hers in Molly’s, took Char’s free one, and tried not to think about pedestrians not a dozen feet behind her gawking at them.

  Molly closed her eyes. “Lord, I praise Your holy name. Come be with us right now and touch Char in a special way. She feels the weight of her sin. It feels like guilt and shame. Like tar. I know You’re listening to her now.” She paused. “Char, you can pray out loud if you want or not. You know all about confessing to a priest. Well, your Holy Priest is here right now, waiting to hear from you. Ask Him to forgive you.”

  Even if Char had wanted to pray aloud, Jo didn’t think she could. Her sobs were too great.

  After a time, Molly said, “Lord, help Char to receive Your forgiveness, to accept Your death as the payment she owes. Thank You. Amen.”

  Molly let go of their hands and scooted her chair closer to Char’s. She put her arms around her, and for a long time Char cried softly against her shoulder.

  “Oh, Molly.” She sat up and whispered as if in awe. “When I told Him all about how I wanted to commit adultery, how I already had in my heart, it was like I could see Him on the cross and all that tar was covering Him! Then all at once I felt sparkling clean, inside and out. Everything seemed bright and I thought ‘It’s over, it’s over,’ only it wasn’t exactly me thinking that. It was more like a knowledge put deep in my heart. He really forgives me, doesn’t He?”

  Molly smiled. “Yes, He really does.”

  Jo felt as dazed as the other two looked. Evidently the Molly Effect had struck again.

  Forty-Six

  Char shook toast crumbs from a paper napkin and blew her nose into it. The first rays of sun broke over a roofline, bursting through the morning’s cloud cover and casting glorious brilliance everywhere.

  It was exactly how she felt on the inside and the outside, covered in brand-new, scrubbed-clean baby skin.

  The tar was gone.

  A sense of being followed was gone.

  Sunshine filled her being. There was no other word for it.

  “Oh, my. Oh, my.” She couldn’t stop repeating the phrase. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. And she couldn’t stop smiling.

  Molly laughed.

  “Molly! Whatever did you do?”

  “Nothing. Well, I talked to God, who is right here with us. His Spirit did the rest.”

  Jo said, “I call it the Molly Effect.”

  “Jo, it’s not my power.”

  “I know. But you tap into it.”

  “Whatever.” Char laughed, for no good reason she could think of except it bubbled out. “Wait until I tell the kids—Oh!” She clapped a hand to her mouth. Cam! She had told him she was about to commit adultery and then hung up on him!

  “Char, what is it?”

  She shoved back her chair and stood. “It’s Cam. I have to talk to him. Right this very instant!”

  The screen door fell shut with a thud behind her.

  No one in Char’s family answered the house phone or their individual cell phones.

  She sat in her bedroom on a small, old-fashioned, straight-back padded chair and stared at her phone as if it could explain.

  Savannah always answered hers unless she was in a class. It was the weekend; she wasn’t in school. She was at a friend’s or the mall. Cole would be at football practice. Cam might still be with patients; he kept Saturday morning hours. Not that he ever answered his phone, but he had one and, given last night’s information, one would think he’d carry the thing in his pocket, the power switched on, and that he’d answer even while in the middle of drilling someone’s tooth!

  Hang it all. She wasn’t about to call the office and leave a message with his staff.

  Obviously last night’s information had not made an impact. By morning he could have thought he dreamt the whole thing.

  Even couch potatoes breathe. It was Julian’s voice, referring to C.P. He had said it that night he saw her talking on the phone with Todd. He thought she was having a tête-à-tête with her husband until she set him straight about that relationship.

  What else had Julian said? Something about her. She wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or not.

  Do you know what I see when I look at you? An attractive, delightful blonde with an irresistible zest for life. Somewhere in old Cam’s heart lingers a yearning to have a tête-à-tête with you. And yesterday morning as they drank special coffee at the restaurant. Old Cam just needs some encouragement.

  That was it. Both times she had figured Julian meant it was all her fault romance had died with Cam.

  It takes two, sugar. Her mama’s voice now. Two to tango, two to fall in love, two to disagree.

  No, it wasn’t all her fault. Perhaps Julian simply meant what he said. Cam yearned.

  “Color me flabbergasted.”

  She pondered the new thought for a moment. If it was true…then she should tell him he had a funny way of showing he cared.

  Or maybe she should just shut up for a change.

  Well, for now her choice was clear. He couldn’t exactly listen to her if he didn’t answer her calls. She would have to keep her mouth shut as far as he was concerned.

  She closed up her phone and headed back out to the patio.

  “Last night I told Cam about Todd.” Char lifted her coffee mug and met her friends’ stares of disbelief over its rim.

  Molly said, “You what? You told him about Todd?”

  “I did. I called him from the ladies’ lounge.”

  Jo said, “The ladies’ lounge! What? In between courses?”

&nb
sp; “Before dessert.” If only she had left things alone. Just listened to her conscience and told Todd to take a hike and not bothered phoning Cam.

  “What did he say?” Molly asked.

  “He was stunned. I reamed him. Told him he should have noticed. He should have been aware.”

  Jo said, “That’s probably true enough.”

  “But I left him hanging. He said what am I going to do, and I said I don’t know. And then I hung up.”

  “Yikes,” Molly said. “And now he’s not answering?”

  “No.”

  “He’s hurting.”

  Jo said, “And madder than a hornet.”

  Char set down her cup. “I honestly can’t say which or if either.”

  “You don’t think he cares?” Molly asked.

  “Well, he pays the bills. That says something.”

  They exchanged uncertain glances.

  Molly said, “It does say something.”

  “He didn’t call me yesterday. That more or less sums up how things are between us, even if he does pay the bills. As far as I know, he loves the television remote more than he does me.”

  Jo said, “But he’s not like Paul, is he?”

  “No, he’s not in the least like Paul. He respects me, I have to say that for him. He did respect me, anyway…before last night…”

  Molly patted her arm. “Last night is where love kicks in. I’m sure he loves you, hon.”

  Jo said, “Of course he does. What’s not to love about our charming Georgia peach?”

  She smiled at their encouragement. “Any number of things, I’m sure.”

  “As Andie would say, fiddlesticks!” Jo shrugged. “So do you want to tell us about the rest of last night? What happened over dessert?”

  “Pff.” Her lips vibrated with an expulsion of breath. “Dessert! I skedaddled right out of the place. I didn’t even go back to the table. I just made a beeline for the front door. I told the valet I had a most distressing phone conversation and would he please tell the guy who would come out to pick up the red convertible that his date had to leave. It was a dire emergency. I should have tipped him, but I only had a fifty and there was a taxi at the curb.”

  Jo laughed. Molly clapped her hands and whistled.

  Char’s suspicions were true. They really, truly did not like Todd in the least.