“Pretty busy. And Oksana hasn’t shown up yet. And I’m starving.”
“Well, you’ll be glad I came in.” Myrna lifted a thermos and a box from her woven basket. “Iced tiramisu coffee and some homemade blueberry muffins. Thought you could use a little picker-upper.”
“Gosh, Mom, thanks!” Lexi grabbed a muffin and munched ravenously. How cool it was, having her mother here like this. She wanted to tell her mother she was pregnant, but not yet. And not here, where a customer could walk in. “Delicious.”
“Good.” Myrna looked around the shop. “I remember when Dad and I ran our store, our summer help was usually college kids. They always partied too hard on Saturday nights and showed up late on Sundays or came in with hangovers.”
“Oksana’s not like that.” Lexi drank the iced coffee carefully. Her stomach seemed ready to accept it. “She’s never done this before. I hope she’s not sick.”
The store phone rang.
“That’s probably her right now,” Myrna said.
“Moon Shell Beach, Lexi speaking.”
“Hi, Lexi,” a man growled. “Clyde Thompson here. Have you seen Jesse?”
“No …”
“He didn’t show up for work today. I’m shorthanded as it is.”
Last night Jesse had stayed at his parents’ house, claiming exhaustion, but this was more information than Clyde Thompson needed. “Look, I’ll phone you if I hear from him—” All at once Lexi’s heart thudded. “Oh, Clyde.” She dropped the phone, reaching for the stability of the countertop.
“What’s wrong?” Myrna grabbed up the phone. “Hello? This is Myrna Laney. Can I help you?”
“Hi, Myrna, it’s Clyde Thompson. I’m looking for Jesse. He didn’t show up for work today.”
“I see.” Myrna studied Lexi’s face.
“Is there something going on I should know about?” the contractor demanded.
“I don’t know, Clyde.”
Lexi raised her head. “Just tell him I’ll call him back as soon as I know anything.”
FORTY
Lexi thought she might faint. She swallowed bile, steadying herself against the counter.
Her throat was dry when she said, “Mom, will you watch the shop? I’m going up to the pharmacy—the one where the Russian women work. They might know something about Oksana.”
“Of course,” Myrna said. “Go ahead. Take your time. I’ll be fine.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She hurried into the heart of the town, tripping over cobblestones and bricks, stumbling like someone lost. She didn’t feel the shade from the green arch of the trees above her. She didn’t see the fabulous merchandise in all the shop windows she passed. Her mind would not articulate her fears; instead it played a frantic loop that had her muttering as she walked.
“He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t just go without a word …”
Occasionally a tourist would glance at her quizzically, but she didn’t care, she was caught up in the pounding of her heart and the thudding of her sandals against the pavement, they were like drum rolls, and she burst into the pharmacy like a mother throwing open the door to a room where her kid sat smoking pot.
Several people were at the counter having coffee and chatting. Behind the counter was the lovely, tall, blond Sophia, adding whipped cream to a hot fudge sundae. Lexi was trembling as she approached the counter.
Sophia wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. “May I help you?”
“Sophia, we’ve met before, I’m Lexi Laney, I own Moon Shell Beach where Oksana works.” The words came tumbling out fast. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to know, you’re a friend of Oksana’s, and she didn’t show up for work today. I was wondering whether you might know where she is.”
Sophie smiled nervously. “Yes, I have something for you.”
Lexi felt the atmosphere change in the pharmacy. Silence fell as the pharmacists and customers went silent, straining to listen.
Sophia reached under the counter. “Oksana left this for you.”
Lexi took the white envelope, so innocent and pristine-looking, with Lexi scrawled on it in curly script. Her heart raced, her fingertips felt cold.
“Thank you, Sophia,” she said quietly.
Somehow she managed to leave the store and walk through town back to her shop. The summer sun burned down on her, but she was icy with dread.
When she got to Moon Shell Beach, she didn’t enter the shop but went around to the back to sit on the bulkhead. The ocean lapped musically against the shore. Sails cut back and forth on the blue water. A gull screeched overhead. Lexi opened the envelope.
Two pieces of paper were inside. Lexi unfolded them.
The first, in curly script, said only, “Lexi, I am sorry. Forgive me. I fell in love.”
The other piece of paper was covered in Jesse’s sideways, nearly illegible scrawl.
“Lexi, I’m sorry, but somehow I think you’ll understand. Oksana and I are leaving the island. We’re going to get married as soon as possible, and then we’re going to her hometown. Labinsk—you can find it on the map—is in the middle of Russia. I’ll be able to travel everywhere. With my savings I’ll be able to buy a little shop for me and Oksana. I know this seems awful of me, to just leave like this, but the truth is, it’s like in the Wizard of Oz, where the black-and-white world becomes Technicolor. For the first time in my life I know exactly what I want to do. I never meant to hurt you. But I know you don’t love me, not really. We had a good time together, the two of us. I hope your future life is as happy as mine. Fondly, Jesse.”
Fondly? The casual indifference of the word stabbed Lexi hard. She made two fists, crumpling the notes in her hands as if she could destroy the words.
“Lexi?” Her mother stuck her head out the back door. “You have a customer …”
“Thanks, Mom.” She could not break down right now. She would not. She pushed herself up. She entered the shop. She handed the notes to her mother.
The interior of Moon Shell Beach was cool and dry and calm and fragrant, a tranquil oasis against the summer heat. A woman in a tennis dress stood in the shop, holding one of Lexi’s caftans. Lexi had work to do, and that grounded her for now. She took a deep breath. “How may I help you?” she asked.
FORTY-ONE
“Good afternoon, ladies.” Clare was still in a luxurious state of honey-drugged indolence. As she moved around the shop, restocking the shelves, tweaking the bows on the boxes, her light summer dress floated around her and her beaded bracelets clicked musically on her wrists. She was so much in love she was even glad to see the Barbie Dolls when they wandered into her shop.
“We’re just looking,” Amber cooed. “My mother-in-law’s birthday is next Saturday …”
Clare squinted at them. Something more than a birthday was going on. “How about this box? It’s assorted chocolates.”
Amber and Spring were eyeing her carefully, trying to read her mood.
“Oh, come on,” Clare laughed indulgently. “What’s up with you two?”
Amber pounced. “Have you talked to Lexi today?”
Clare looked wary. “No.”
“Gosh,” Spring giggled. “She’s right next door and you don’t even know.”
“Know what?” Clare wanted to shake them. They were such little teases, the only way she could get them to spill would be to act as if she weren’t interested, so she turned her back on them and began to polish the glass of the display case.
Amber couldn’t wait. “Jesse’s gone. Oksana, too.”
Clare went still. “What?”
“My brother, Hank?” Spring exploded with the news. “He was in the pharmacy this morning when Lexi came in. He heard Lexi telling Sophia that Oksana hadn’t shown up for work, and he saw Sophie hand Lexi an envelope she said was from Oksana.”
Amber had to get in on this. Eagerly, she continued, “Hank knows Jesse’s been dating Lexi, so he phoned Gordie Evans, who runs a
contracting business, and Gordie phoned Clyde Thompson, who heads up the crew Jesse works for, and Clyde said Jesse hadn’t shown up for work today.”
Spring finished with a smug smile. “And one plus one makes two …”
So many emotions hit Clare so hard she had to bite her lip to clear some space in her head. She feigned indifference. “Maybe Jesse’s sick.”
“And Oksana’s sick, too?” Amber smirked. “And instead of phoning her boss, she leaves her a note?”
The door opened. A gaggle of older women squeezed in, clustering around the counter to inspect the chocolates.
“Let’s talk later, okay?” Clare said to the Barbies with fake sweetness. She smiled at her customers. “May I help you?”
The moment the Barbies left the store, Clare dialed Jesse’s parents. They’d spent so many years protecting their son and listening to jilted women spewing their anger at them that they had developed thick skins. They gave away little, and never showed emotion.
But today, when Jesse’s mother answered the phone, her voice was clotted, as if she’d been crying.
“Phyllis? It’s Clare.”
The older woman sniffed. Without preamble, she confessed in a rush, “Yes, Clare, yes, it’s true, Jesse’s gone, he’s left, he’s left the island forever, he’s going to go live in Russia, of all the godforsaken places. Oh, Clare, we’ll never see him again!”
Clare heard Jesse’s father muttering something in the background.
“We never expected anything like this,” Phyllis Gray sobbed. “We never thought he’d leave the island! All his friends! His family! And what if there are grandchildren? We’ll never see our grandchildren!”
Well, Clare thought bitterly, you’ll see one. But this was not her secret to tell. She wondered whether Jesse’s parents even knew he’d been going out with Lexi. “I’m sorry, Phyllis.”
As she hung up the phone, the Barbies returned, gleaming. “Moon Shell Beach is closed!” they announced gleefully.
“What?” Clare asked.
“Come outside, look for yourself! She’s closed the store right in the middle of the day!”
Clare went outside and looked. The Barbies were right. “Well,” she snapped at the Barbies, “probably she doesn’t want anyone to come inside and gawk at her and gloat.”
Insulted, Amber shot back, “Like you won’t gloat, Clare?”
Clare rolled her eyes in reply and returned to her own shop. Finally Amber and Spring left. Quickly she dialed Lexi’s home number, but only got a recording.
“Lexi,” she said. “It’s Clare. I’ve heard about Jesse and Oksana. Give me a call. I’m … I’m so sorry. I want to help. Let me help.”
All day long islanders collected at Sweet Hart’s to exchange the news and check out in obvious or sly ways whether Clare knew more. At least they all bought chocolates, so her sales total that day was excellent.
But by the time she closed the shop, she was drained. Jesse was gone, really gone. At last Jesse was traveling. At last his wildest dreams were coming true.
And Lexi might be hurt, might feel embarrassed, but not, Clare thought, heartbroken. For while Lexi might not have Jesse, she would have Jesse’s child. Jesse had given Lexi that much, and that was a prize beyond measure.
FORTY-TWO
She closed Moon Shell Beach early that day. She couldn’t stay open until ten. She was too tired. She had to eat. She had to rest. She needed to be alone with her thoughts.
She locked the doors. The sudden stillness calmed her. For an hour or so, she moved around the store, smoothing the pashminas, rearranging the sarongs in order of size, adjusting the privacy curtains on the cubicles so they fell into harmonious lines. When her touch stirred the shimmering fabrics, they seemed to release an invisible mist of soft sounds into the silent air of the store. Jesse’s laughter. Oksana’s songs.
“Durak,” Lexi said aloud. The Russian word for “stupid.” “How could I have been so durak?” Jesse and Oksana must have fallen in love right in front of Lexi and she hadn’t even noticed.
Out in the summer evening, people strolled along the cobblestones. Some tested her front door, then continued on. As dusk fell, Lexi noticed how the glow from Sweet Hart’s patterned the lane with squares of brightness.
One practical consideration: she couldn’t handle the store on her own. She would have to find a new salesclerk. She climbed the stairs to her second floor without turning on the lights. Enough late-evening sunshine shone through the windows to illuminate the long room, and she didn’t want anyone outside to suspect that she was up here, sniveling into her solitude like a wounded bear into her cave. She was hungry but had no energy to cook, or even to call out for food. She meant to search for the local newspaper with its classified ads. It was buried somewhere on her desk. Instead, she collapsed on her bed, curling up into a fetal position.
On her bedside table, the message button on her answering machine flashed relentlessly. Her cell phone had rung so many times today, she had finally turned it off. She’d assured her mother she was fine, and Myrna had gone home, worry-free, which was exactly how Lexi wanted it. Myrna deserved to have her own life, unscathed by Lexi’s continuing mistakes. Lexi hit Play. Myrna hadn’t phoned, but Adam had, and Clare, and the Barbie Dolls, twice, and even Brittany Phelps, who had become a counselor/therapist, had invited Lexi, in her soft sweet voice, to come talk to her if she had any problems.
“Problems!” Lexi spoke into the empty air. “My problem is that I’m a big fat fool!”
She wanted to cry, but instead of the pressure of tears, she felt only hollowness. She buried her face in her pillow. “Durak,” she said aloud. “I’m so durak.”
A sudden violent pounding made her raise her head from the pillow. “What now?” she demanded grumpily of the air. Someone was beating on her back door. It wouldn’t be a customer, they only came to the front. Only her family used the back door. Her family, and Clare.
Grudgingly, she dragged herself down the stairs and opened the door.
Clare held up two bags emanating delicious scents. “Emergency rations. From Annye’s Health Foods.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Oh, let’s see, maybe because I’ve known you all my life?” Clare led the way up the stairs. “Good grief, your place looks worse than mine.”
“You have a house to go home to,” Lexi reminded her.
Clare set the food on top of a pile of catalogs on the coffee table. “Sit. I’ll get utensils and drinks. What do you want?”
“Scotch,” Lexi said, sinking into a chair. “Vodka. Gin. All of the above. Mixed together.”
“Yes, well, pregnant mothers can’t drink, so forget that.” Clare bustled around in the kitchenette, finding a couple of glasses and a container of orange juice. She set them on the table, then went back for plates and paper napkins.
Lexi opened the bags. Delicious aromas wafted into the air. Her stomach growled. Fried rice with snow peas and spinach. Pasta with tuna and Parmesan. Grilled salmon with plum sauce. Caesar salad. Pasta ribbons with mushrooms and shallots.
“Thank you, Clare,” Lexi said. “This is so nice of you.”
Clare settled across from Lexi, filling her plate as she talked. “Glad to help. Adam’s tried to call you, you know.” She watched as Lexi ate ravenously. “I guess I can tell him your appetite is good.”
“I know,” Lexi mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. “Odd, isn’t it?”
For a while they both ate in silence. Finally Lexi put down her plate. “Oh, man, I needed that.” She looked at Clare. “I feel like the biggest fool on the planet.”
“I know just how you feel,” Clare said.
Lexi started to object, then reconsidered. She grinned. “I guess you do.” She picked up a snow pea and munched it. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised. It’s not as if I was in love with Jesse, or he was in love with me. Right now, I can’t even imagine why I slept with him.”
Clare snorted. “Oh, please.
Of course you know why you slept with him. Jesse is irresistible.”
“Still. I should have resisted.”
“Listen, Mother Teresa couldn’t have resisted Jesse when he’s full steam ahead.”
“Do you think it was revenge sex, Clare? Because you dumped him? Or do you think he just wanted to finish off his list, and I was the last female in our high school class who hadn’t slept with him?” Suddenly it all spilled out. “I never believed he was in love with me. He never said he loved me. I never said I loved him. I never thought I’d have a future with him. I never wanted a future with him. That wasn’t even on the same planet when we were together. Then, when I knew I was pregnant, I guess I kind of began to imagine—but I hadn’t spoken to him about it, so—Would he have married me if he knew I was pregnant? But even if he did, he’d still screw around, wouldn’t he? I mean, maybe he’s like an eternal optimist, the next one is always more desirable than the one he has …”
“Lexi, look—”
Lexi half-laughed, choking as tears began to well. “Maybe he’s basically insecure, and needs to—”
Clare threw her hands up. “We are not going to psychoanalyze Jesse Gray! I’ve spent most of my adult years worrying away like a demented squirrel with a nut, trying to find ways to understand him, to explain his behavior. To excuse him. The fact is, he’s just plain Jesse.”
Humiliated by her own question, Lexi still had to ask, “Do you think he’ll stay with Oksana?”
Clare snorted. “When he’s got all of the European continent to conquer? Oh, I doubt it.”
Lexi grinned. She blew her nose and wiped her face and caught her breath. She lifted her head and looked soberly at Clare. “Clare, I still want this baby.”
“I know you do. And you can have this baby, Lexi.”
“Geez, I’ll be an unwed mother!” She laughed at the thought, and Clare laughed with her.
“No one cares about that stuff anymore.”
“My parents might.”
Summer Beach Reads Page 85