“Later.”
Paige and I sneaked into Quincy’s, where she pored over sketch books and oil paints, brushes, and chalks. I meandered through the stationery and notebooks. We exited two hundred dollars poorer. Well, me, only twenty. Paige called her purchase a tax deduction. I needed to find out more about those.
Then we crossed the walkway to Surfer Girl, which had relocated here a couple of years ago from the beachfront. It’s welcome sign has flip-flops on it, so you can’t help but go in. We left with new flip-flops as well.
Paige loves just to walk through the art district, examining the talents of others. She loves the modern and progressive style of art housed in J. Proctor’s, and the vibrant Seaside-esque art found in Cara Roy’s. I watched as her entire body relaxed and left behind the emotions of the afternoon. She was at home here, surrounded by people with a love for the expressions of life that she knew. Of things that she really liked. As for me, my mind kept wandering. Wandering to something I liked. Granted, I didn’t know a thing about art, but I do know what I like. And I was beginning to think I liked Joshua North.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Paige and I nestled into two of the many chairs staggered around the square at three- and four-yard increments, an artistic arrangement in and of themselves. We sipped on fountain Cokes from Café Rendezvous.
“It’s like you’ve transported yourself from a beach resort to the streets of a small village,” I said, taking a sip of my Coke and enjoying the burning sensation all the way down.
Paige set her Diet Coke down on the old tin washtub that served as a coffee table.“What do you want your wedding to be like?” she asked out of the blue.
I choked on my Coke and felt it make its way to the back side of my nostrils. “I’m sorry, I have no idea. The thought of a wedding hasn’t crossed my mind in, well, never.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. And if you’re referring to Joshua,we are just getting to know each other.”
“Have you thought of Grant at all this week?”
I turned my gaze to the windmill spinning on the small patch of lawn in front of the nearest townhouse. “Grant’s married, Paige. I can’t let my thoughts or emotions turn to him anymore. And to be honest”—I turned back to her—“there are things that I feel with Joshua that I never felt with Grant.”
Her surprise registered.“Never?”
“Well,maybe in the beginning there were moments of excitement. But something seems different here. I can’t place my finger on it, but it’s different.”
“They call it love.”
“He calls it that anyway.”
“You mean you haven’t told him you love him?”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“You have got to be kidding,” she retorted. “You mean this man has confirmed his love for you, and you respond with,‘Yeah I think you’re swell too’?”
“I never say swell.”
“How do you not respond to ‘I love you’?”
“I don’t want to say it until I know for sure.”
“What will make you know for sure?”
“I have no idea.” I puckered my lips like Elvis.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“That pucker thing.”
“This?” I did it again.
“Yes, that.”
“It helps me think.”
“You’re odd.”
“Getting odder. But anyway, if I’m going to say ‘I love you’ to Joshua or Mr. Magoo—”
“You did not just say Mr. Magoo.”
“Focus. If I say ‘I love you’ to anyone, it will mean I want to spend the rest of my life with that person. I’m not a spring chicken anymore.”
“Well, you’re not a lame duck either.”
“But I want those words to mean something this time.”
“They meant something last time.”
“Yes, they did. But I was sixteen. Now I’m twenty-four. They’ll mean a lot more now.”
“You do have a point. So back to your wedding.” She eyed me impishly.
“I thought you had an interview.”
She looked at her watch and jumped up from her chair. All I saw was her backside and the sounds from the copper wind chimes in front of Newbill Collection by the Sea, celebrating her departure.
I waited on Paige. I should have brought my book. She came out smiling. Time would reveal what that meant.
The smell of Dad’s grill accosted us while we were still blocks away. Probably because the smell of hamburgers and steaks were present every evening on the streets of Seaside. Vacation did that to people. It brought them outside and made cooking an enjoyment instead of a chore. Of course, to Vicky, cooking was a rite of passage. It was the “woman’s way,” she called it. I called take-out the woman’s way myself. We waged war over that one. She won. She cooked a homemade chocolate cake, and I went to bed praying God would give me the “woman’s way” and that I’d never let it go.
“Hey, precious darlings,” Mother said, kissing us on the cheeks as if we had been gone for days. Her little white fluff was nestled in her arms.
Duke wagged his tail from his seated position by the grill. The dog wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to eat beef. He was no respecter of other animals’well-being.Truth be told, if he got a real good moment alone with that other canine, she might be dessert.
“I think I’m going to invite Joshua to dinner with us tomorrow night,” Amber announced over her half portion of salad.
Paige kicked me under the table. I chewed a little harder on my beef.
Thomas chimed in.“Who’s Joshua?”
“A man who could possibly one day be my husband,”Amber proclaimed.
Thomas’s brow furrowed. Paige kicked me again and nodded her head to indicate that I better do something. Thomas eyed us both. Vicky saved me. Who would have guessed?
“Amber, I thought we talked about this. You don’t invite. The man invites. You don’t even know him that well. You don’t need to go declaring to him that he might possibly be your future husband.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that to him, Miss Victoria.” She nibbled her lettuce. “I’m just telling you. My new family.”
Thomas’s furrow ran deeper. “What have I missed in two days?”
“Bunches!” Paige exclaimed. “You missed the car trip. You missed the barfing dog. You missed the tinkling princess. You missed the educational trip to the bathing suit store. And you have apparently missed the fact that Amber is now officially a part of your family.”
Thomas eyed my father.
“We told her we wanted her to feel a part of our family,” Dad said.
“Feel?”Thomas questioned.
“Yes, feel,” Dad said.
“And don’t you think whatever man I decide to marry needs to meet all of you and get to know and love each of you exactly the way I do?” Amber said. “I mean, that way you can examine him and give me your thoughts, and then I can tell him what he will need to change in order for us to make our relationship work, and then we can talk about our future and how each of you will play such an important part. And then, Savannah”—here, her eyes began to moisten with tears, and I knew I probably wouldn’t be prepared for what was coming—“I know this is strictly parenthetical . . .”
Thomas’s head cocked.
I shook my head at him.
“. . . but, whomever I marry, even if it should be Joshua, I’m certain he would agree that we would definitely want you to be our children’s godmother.”
Paige ducked just in time to miss the masticated beef that spewed out of my mouth. I snatched up my napkin and wiped my face while Mother eyed me, appalled. Dad raised his right eyebrow, and Thomas sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I think it’s a little soon to be talking about children,” I informed her.
She patted my hand as if I were a child. “Savannah, but it doesn’t matter who I marry. I know there is no one I wou
ld want to be a mother to my children if anything ever happened to me and their father than you. And whatever wonderful man you marry.”
“But Joshua is not really here in Seaside to see you,” I said, treading carefully. “Don’t you think he might be busy with his friends, I don’t know, getting ready for the wedding or something?”
“Or something,” Paige mumbled. I kicked her back. Hard.
“Savannah, honey. I’m not talking specifically about Joshua. But I can’t deny that I have a very strong feeling that this is a destiny encounter. I just lost my greatest dream, remember.”As if we could forget.“Now it’s like I have a real chance of spending my life with someone whom I’ve been extremely fond of for a long time. And then, parenthetically of course, I could become Mrs. United States of America.”
My mother was shaking her head. At least the woman knew when crazy had entered the building. Of course, she had just bought crazy a new dress for the possibility.“Amber, I want you to listen to me now.” She took Amber’s hand and stared into her fake aqua-ocean eyes. “You just need to let life take its course. If Joshua is the man for you, nothing will be able to keep you apart. But you don’t chase boys. Boys chase you. Don’t ever forget that. I still have that man over there chasing me,”she said with a coy smile.
Well, if my appetite hadn’t been altered enough, it totally vacated the premises at that one. Dad smiled and took a bite of his steak.
“I understand. But I really was talking in complete paren-theticals.”
“Hypotheticals!” I blurted.“The word is hypothetical!”
“That’s why I don’t eat beef,” Amber whispered to my mother. “You’re never sure when that mad cow disease is just going to go straight to the cerebral cortex.”
Thomas continued to survey the meal.
“So was that a no on dinner?” Amber asked after a pause.
“How about just see if your paths cross again,” Mother suggested.“ And if they do, then,well, then I guess you can invite him to dinner. But only if he crosses your path.” She waved a finger. “Not if you cross his . . . purposefully.”
This coming from Miss Purposeful Path Crosser herself. She had been crossing paths on purpose for years. New neighbors who had tacky yard ornaments. New businesses that had flashy signs. New restaurants that had tacky servers. She crossed more paths than she had paths to cross. But bless the Lord and sing a chorus of “Just As I Am,” sister didn’t want Miss Amber crossing anyone’s path. It might be downright unladylike.
Paige ran her finger across her plate to get the last bit of juice, then slurped her finger like an ice cream cone. Maybe Mother needed to take a trip down Paige’s unladylike path after she finished with Amber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Time to go,” Mother called from the bottom of the steps.
I caught a glimpse of her, all dressed in white, and almost took a moment to sing a chorus of hallelujahs. Then I realized she wasn’t dead (just kidding); she was ready for our annual family picture.
“Ooh, I’m ready! I’m ready!”Amber said, skipping out of her room in a white linen dress.
I gasped. Granted, I didn’t like family pictures, but it was my family picture. Even the little yapper was snuggled in Mother’s arms, donned in a white polo dress for dogs. We would never return from such depths.
“Savannah, hurry up!” Mother shouted.
“I forgot. You’ll have to give me a minute.” I stared at Paige lying across her bed, rubbing the gut that had grown with the two helpings she had consumed.
“What?”
“Why aren’t you getting up?”
She rubbed herself like a genie lamp.“I’m not going with ya’ll to take family photos.”
“Come on,” I whined.“I don’t want to go by myself.”
“You’re a big girl. Spread your wings.”
“They’re broken.”
“They’ve never developed.”
“Okay, that’ll work. They’ve never developed. Now will you come?” I asked, slipping on a pair of jeans and a white sweater. White was required for Mother’s picture.
“No.”
“You’re cruel.”
“Who brought who on this journey of horrors?”
The only good thing about taking a family photo on the beaches of Seaside was, first, that it always turned out beautiful. Second, I got to see Haley. Haley has lived behind her camera since I can remember. To be honest, it is as much a part of her as her auburn hair and amber eyes. And the pictures that come out of that camera are magical. Our first encounter three years ago resulted in a friendship that lives on through phone calls and e-mails.
“Savannah, my friend, it’s great to see you,” Haley said, her auburn hair glistening even more brightly in the setting of the sun.
“It’s wonderful to see you too, sweet girl,” I said, giving her a hug. I whispered in her ear,“Make this as painless as possible.”
“A miracle worker I am not. But a powdered doughnut I do have.” She pulled a pack from her camera bag. She always had powdered doughnuts. Paige would probably regret she didn’t come.
Mother pranced around trying to find the perfect backdrop of dunes, pampas grass, and ocean. Haley had already found it for her.
Haley maneuvered us into place like an artist. She wore a prosthesis below her left knee, from a childhood accident, but it was evident that confidence had found its way in her soul. Her new husband,Tank, was largely responsible for that, I was sure. When I finally got to meet him, I would thank him.
“Ahem, excuse me. Uh . . . miss.” Amber tried to get Haley’s attention.
“Oh, yes.”
“Um, uh, where would you like me to stand?”
Haley eyed my family, not sure where the new creature had come from. Amber looked so pitiful standing there by herself. Here we were, a lovely family (well, until Mother added Pink Toes), and there Amber was, thinking she was a part of it.
“Amber, why don’t you come stand over here by me,” I offered.
Her face lit up, and she fluttered over and spread herself out on the sand, letting the skirt of her dress lay across the white beach.
“This picture would have been much prettier if you and Thomas didn’t insist on wearing jeans,” Mother said through her clenched smile.
“Everybody smile,” Haley said, trying to distract us from apparent conflict.
“I could have worn shorts,” I offered, smiling myself.
“Savannah,” Dad said.
Haley’s camera clicked away.
“Great shot. Okay, now what about a mother-daughter picture.”
Dad and Thomas took a moment to walk toward the beach a little. Amber and the princess in Ralph Lauren stayed put.
I could tell Haley was caught off guard.“Um,Amber, would you mind just scooting over there with the fellas for a minute?” she asked in her most professional voice.
Amber looked up at Victoria as if somehow the entire Phillips family line had been lost on Haley. I could see Mother processing. She had become a pro at that. I held my breath, realizing that she was about to actually tell Amber she couldn’t be a part of this picture.
Finally, her words were released. “Amber, darling, I believe Haley”—oh, that was good—“would like one of just Savannah and me.”
Amber’s aqua eyes began to glisten. Hoping for a recount. But Mother remained firm.
So there I stood. Me and my mother. I waited one more moment, for the next shoe to fall. It fell, all right. “Haley, we’re ready now.”
And there I stood, me, my mother, and Maggy.
“Well then,” Haley responded. “All you Phillips girls should all smile and say ruff!”
Had it not been so pitiful, I do believe I would have laughed myself silly.
Haley snapped some more pictures and posed us for one final hurrah. Mother sat her princess down a little too close to Duke, and when Haley said, “Okay, on three, say cheese,” well, Duke lifted up his leg and showered that princess with a
thunderstorm.
“Duke!” Mother hollered, snatching up her whining, dripping pup.
“Duke!” Dad laughed.
“Jake Phillips, this is not funny. Your dog has defiled my baby.” She stomped in the direction of the house. Amber flittered behind.
Thomas, Dad, and Duke laughed all the way home.
“I see little has changed,” Haley said as I gave her a hug good night.
“What would we do if it did?”
“Who’s going to join me this evening?” Dad asked the dinner crew regarding his evening walk. Mother was a given. Thomas declared he had walked enough today and was heading up the street to watch a movie with friends. Paige was going to stay behind at the house and do Lord knew what. Maybe pick up on her copyright page. I wanted to stay behind with Paige, but Dad really wanted me to come. Amber went because she felt so bloated from her three bites of roughage, and four powdered doughnuts.
Mother made her second exit from the house. The first time, she emerged with Maggy in a baby carrier strapped across her chest. Dad sent her back inside.
Now they were back, Mother with her little creature on a leash, and both looked miserable. I, however, might enjoy this walk a little more after all. But I had an odd feeling none of us would receive twenty dollars to get lost tonight. Especially after Mother slammed her three-inch heel on the two love bugs that alighted right below her foot.
I could smell the honeysuckle that ran along most of the white picket fences of Seaside Avenue before I even got to the sidewalk. The scent was much more subtle in the evenings than in the humid morning, more like the hint of the aroma of wine.
As we turned off of Seaside Avenue, we solicited more than a few looks as we strolled along Forest Street. Not me and Dad. No, we were normal news. Abnormal news were the two who strolled behind us in heels high enough to impale small children.
“Did you have a good day?” Dad whispered.
“Yeah, it was nice. Heard you got some interesting news from Thomas today.”
Savannah by the Sea Page 18