Lighthouse Beach

by Shelley Noble

  Jess was the first to recover. “Wait! That’s it? He drops you off and you go meekly into the house?”

  Diana shrugged and picked up half of the sandwich Allie had handed her. “I’m not sure ‘meekly’ is an encompassing enough word to describe it.”

  “Pissed? Sad?”

  Diana pulled a stray leaf of lettuce from between the two pieces of bread and let it drop to her plate.

  “Disappointed?” Allie ventured.

  “Keep going.”

  “Humiliated?” Jess cringed as she said it.

  “Hmm. Getting closer.” She was just looking at her sandwich, studying it like she might find an answer there. This was so not Diana.

  “Rejected? Hurt?”

  “Jess, maybe you should stop,” Lillo said.

  Diana glanced at her. “Good idea.” She took a huge bite out of the sandwich, effectively ending the conversation.

  Lillo wondered if she was imagining Ian’s arm or possibly neck as her teeth tore through the bread and cheese and ham.

  Diana had called herself several epithets because of Ian’s rejection, but Lillo also imagined it was some kind of defensive safeguard against someone else doing it first. Was it possible that Diana, who seemed so self-assured, had been thrown off her game by a reclusive country vet?

  Of course, Ian was a lot more than that. And it was probably better that Diana never found out the rest. Especially if, as odd as it sounded, she was developing feelings for him.

  No, it would just be too weird. And could never work. And why was she even thinking stupid things like this? Girls’ weekend was having an undue influence on all of them, including Lillo.

  Diana tossed the crust of her bread on the plate. “So much for that. The sandwich was good, the day sucked, but to every fog a silver lining. We’re all back early and we have the whole afternoon and evening to clean out Lillo’s storage room.”

  “No.” Lillo jumped up, sudden panic freezing her midmovement. “I mean, maybe I should take some time to go through things.”

  “Nope. This is the week for new beginnings. So get on board. You know what the Amish say.”

  “No, I don’t,” Lillo said.

  “Well, I think it was the Amish. ‘Many hands make light work.’ And you’ve got your many hands for at least three more days, then I have to get back to work. So. Chop, chop.”

  Jess looked at Lillo, worried. About Lillo?

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Jess asked.

  No, she was not, no more than she’d been sure about inviting these three women into her home. She was glad she did. But would she still be glad once they started deconstructing her life?

  The three of them stood in a semicircle, ready to go to work, but not moving until they got the okay from Lillo.

  Lillo’s mouth was dry, she tried to swallow but couldn’t get the muscles to work. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears. She wanted to run, but she stood in place.

  Then Diana lifted her eyebrows. And the simple change of expression released Lillo from her indecision. Hell, call it what it was: fear. She was afraid of that room and its contents. She was afraid once she got rid of it, there would be nothing left. Nothing of her left.

  “It won’t be as bad as you think,” Diana said as if she’d heard Lillo’s thoughts. “We’ll be gentle.”

  And Lillo laughed, again. Damn, Diana could make her laugh when she should be crying. It was just weird.

  “All right, let’s get it over with.”

  They walked as a group to the spare bedroom. Waited while Lillo turned the knob and pushed the door open. It was all there. Everything that belonged to the girl with a future. Bright and optimistic, going places, doing great things, loving with a great love.

  That’s what Lillo had thought it was, remembered it as, what it should have been, but today it was just a room with a bunch of junk. Old clothes, old books, old DVDs. An old life. They belonged to another time, another person.

  She breathed deeply, let it out slowly through pursed lips. “Let’s do this.”

  “Garbage bags,” Diana said.

  “I saw some under the sink.” Allie left the room.

  “And a Magic Marker,” Diana called after her.

  The other three crowded through the door. There was barely space to walk around the bed to the other side of the room. Diana began to weave her way through.

  “Shouldn’t we just start near the door and clear a wider path over to the other side?” Jess asked.

  “No,” Diana said, climbing over a pile of things that had toppled to the floor at some point in time. She stopped at the two stacks of boxes that reached up past the windowsill. “What is this stuff?”

  Lillo swallowed. “They’re my”—she cleared her throat—“engagement-party gifts.”

  “Shit. I thought so. Aren’t you supposed to return gifts?”

  “Diana,” Jess warned.

  “No, it’s okay,” Lillo said. “I’ve been through this stage already. Most have been returned. Some friends—at the beginning, when I still had them—contacted everyone. Some people had moved, and we couldn’t reach them; others didn’t want their gifts back. They sent back all that did want them. I think.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t want them.”

  “Not even this teakettle?” Jess said. “You could use a new one.”

  “None of them.”

  “Fair enough,” Diana said. “Let’s get rid of them.”

  Allie returned with a box of large garbage bags and three Magic Markers.

  Diana tossed the teakettle to Lillo. She caught it, clutched it to her chest as if it were a family heirloom. But it wasn’t. She’d never even bothered to open the box. Why was she holding on to the stupid teakettle, or any of the presents that cluttered the room? She didn’t even remember what most of them were or who they were from.

  And still she hesitated.

  “Set them free,” Diana intoned.

  Lillo sputtered. It was as if every time she interacted with Diana, laughter forced its way out. “I hate it when you do that.”

  “What?”

  “Make me laugh when I shouldn’t. This is traumatic.”

  “Hell, there’s no better time to laugh, if you ask me. Let’s carry all these boxes out to the front door. We can decide what to do with them later.”

  “Not throw them away,” Lillo said as panic rose inside her.

  “The community center,” Jess said. “I’m sure they could use these things or know families who could. You can take it off on your income tax.”

  “Yeah, as soon as I get an income,” Lillo said. “But you’re right. The center could use them, except the underwear.”

  “There’s naughty underwear?” Jess started looking through the flat boxes.

  “Later,” Diana said. “We can try them on and dance in the moonlight—except from the looks of things outside, there will be no moonlight.”

  She was right. The fog had lifted, but it was still dark and overcast outside. And from the way the wind was roaring around the cottage, they could still be looking at some serious weather.

  Lillo reached for her phone. No bars.

  “Hey, pay attention,” Diana scolded. “Jess, put the things that go to the community center on the right side of the door. Damn, I wish we had some big boxes. Allie, you’ll have to label the trash bags: ‘Trash,’ ‘Community Center,’ ‘Maybes,’ and ‘Keeps.’” She frowned at Lillo. “Only the important stuff.”

  Lillo nodded. She was so far into panic mode she didn’t even know what Diana was talking about. Thank God Diana had taken charge. Lillo’s knees were knocking so hard she could barely stand; she felt as weak as seaweed. She just hoped she was capable of carrying her share of the load.

  Diana began parceling out the engagement gifts, and Lillo, Jess, and Allie carried them to the living room. Within a few minutes one whole side of the room was free of junk.

  “Who knew?” Diana said. �
��Look at all the room you’ve got. Why did you keep this junk so long?”

  Because it wasn’t junk, it was her life. Her former life. Or maybe it wasn’t. Lillo wasn’t sure, but she felt a little bereft at losing all these things now.

  Jess stepped close and put her arm around Lillo’s waist. “Is it because you don’t want to let go?”

  Lillo bit her lip, her mouth twisted. “I guess.”

  “I know what that’s like. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  Lillo hugged herself, wishing she had a sweatshirt. She did, though. There was one folded on the bed. With her old college seal on the front. Leave it, leave it, she told herself. She’d just stay cold.

  She grabbed a trash bag. The sweatshirt went inside, then the stack of tees and sweats beneath it.

  “Don’t you want to pick out … ?”

  Lillo shook her head and pushed clothes into the bag until it was full. She pulled the red ties tight, knotted them, and hauled the bag out to the living room.

  When a few more bags were carried to the front room and the bedroom was actually beginning to look like a bedroom again and not like Miss Havisham’s wedding feast, Diana came into the bedroom with four beers. “Ten-minute guzzle break.”

  Diana passed around the bottle opener; no one suggested they leave the bedroom. Jess and Allie sat on the bed. Diana went to the window. Lillo just stood where she was.

  The room looked fine. A little dusty and old-fashioned, but spacious enough. The closet was still filled with clothes and shoes and who knew what else. The bookshelves were half filled with books; most had been stacked along the hallway walls waiting to be boxed. There were two boxes of books stacked in the corner. Lillo couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering to them. It was only a question of time before someone asked her about them.

  She looked away. To the window. The day was gray. The wind was blowing sand across the beach. The tide was coming in and the waves were already lapping across the jetty, stirred up by the wind and an offshore storm. The jetty would be completely covered long before the water reached high tide.

  Not exactly anyone’s idea of girls’ weekend at the shore. Well, they should have gone to Jones Beach if they wanted to sunbathe.

  She wasn’t being fair. No one had complained, not once. Not only had they not complained, they had embraced her friends, her lifestyle, befriended Mac, were helping Lillo spring-clean even though spring had come and gone.

  What had started out as an intervention to save Jess from a terrible marriage had turned into something else. Something special. And what should have been the end of the story, saving Jess, had actually changed their own lives. Jess had a new start. Allie a chance to feel again. Diana? Who knew what that was.

  Diana seemed to be the only one of them who had her shit together. Who could organize and be strong for all of them. And yet she was drawn to Ian, there was no way to deny it. As impossible as it seemed, it had happened.

  Diana put down her beer. “Okay, troops, almost done. One more time with feeling.”

  The hanging clothes came next. Lillo would have just gotten rid of them all. But no. Diana, Jess, and Allie pulled out each piece, scrutinized it, asked questions about it, then discussed it. Piece after piece: the jeans, the shirts, the suits, the dresses, the formal attire; each either went back into the closet or into a donate bag.

  And Lillo just watched. Several times she’d almost said, Keep that. But she held her tongue and let them do away with her wardrobe like they’d done with everything else.

  It looked like an enormous amount of castoffs, but when they were done, the closet was still filled, but not crammed with more clothes than she’d ever wear.

  The bookshelves were filled but not overstuffed, with the DVDs on the top shelf and the biggest books on the bottom.

  And finally, the only things left to deal with were the two boxes of books in the corner. Diana lifted out one of the heavy textbooks. “Operative Dictations on … I can’t even pronounce it.” She put it back and took out another. “Diagnostic Pathology?”

  “Toss,” Lillo said.

  “Can’t you at least resell them? They must have cost a fortune.”

  “They’re probably already outdated.” Lillo turned away. Looked out the window. Tried to pretend she was anywhere but here.

  She was aware that no one was moving. She didn’t turn around.

  “Toss.” It was the hardest thing she had ever said.

  “Are you sure?”

  Jess stepped close. “Lillo, no. You might need them again.”

  Lillo shook her head. “Toss.” She turned back to the window. She’d let them carry the boxes out. She wasn’t sure she could.

  “Okay,” Diana said. She hefted the top box into her arms and carried it out to the hallway. Nodded to Allie to do the same with the other. Jess just stood there looking at Lillo. Lillo stared at the sand, the waves, the lighthouse. It had signaled her home; it was beginning to look like she was here to stay.

  Diana and Allie came back in.

  “Looks like that’s— Wait a minute, spoke too soon. It was hiding behind the boxes.” Diana lifted a black nylon carrier bag and deposited it on the bed. “What the heck. It’s got a lock. Have you been moonlighting for Brinks?” She pressed the clasp anyway and it opened.

  Lillo whirled around. In her mind, she screamed “NO,” leaped across the bed, and grabbed the bag before Diana could open it. But she just stood there, paralyzed.

  Once the lock was opened, Diana unzipped the bag, exposing the contents. And they all moved closer to stare at the objects inside. Even Lillo, who knew exactly what she would find.

  “It’s your medical bag,” Jess said. “I didn’t even know doctors still carried bags. I mean, do any of them make house calls?”

  “No,” Lillo said, thankful to draw the conversation away from her past. “This is for community-service rotation.”

  “Like a glorified first-aid kit,” Diana said. She zipped it up and placed it back in the corner.

  “Toss,” Lillo said.

  “It might come in handy someday,” Diana countered.

  Lillo didn’t bother arguing, but walked around the bed, grabbed the handles of the bag, and carried it out to the hallway, where she placed it on top of the medical books.

  When she retreated to the living room, Allie, Jess, and Diana were standing in the only cleared space between them and the front door.

  “I think I’ll call Sada and see if she can get someone to come over and haul this stuff away,” Lillo said, and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  “Well, the fog is lifting,” Jess said. “At least we’ll be able to see to load her … does she have a truck?”

  “Actually, she does, and she has help at the center on Thursdays, so she might be able to grab a couple of able-bodied men and come over soon.” Because if Lillo had to look at the piles of her former life for much longer, she might go stark raving mad.

  She had to go out to the parking lot to get a signal, but when she came back inside she had good news. “Half an hour,” she told the others. “How’s that for service?”

  “Better than you get anywhere else.” Diana looked at her watch. “Shall we start happy hour before she gets here?”

  “Didn’t we already start happy hour?” Jess said.

  “Twice,” Allie said.

  “Like I’ve often said … third time’s a charm.” Diana grinned. “I’m thinking something pink and girlie.”

  Sada was better than her word. Her gray pickup backed up to Lillo’s gate twenty minutes later. Three strapping teenagers accompanied her.

  Lillo came out to meet them. “There’s a lot of stuff.”

  “Perfect. The one thing I have plenty of is space. I’ll take anything you’re getting rid of.” Sada motioned to the boys and followed them to the cottage.

  “Holy cow,” she said when she saw the stacks of gifts and castoff clothes. She looked at Lillo.

  “These are gifts I neve
r used. The rest are clothes I don’t wear, or stuff I don’t need. Just throw whatever you don’t want in the Dumpster.”

  “I’m sure we can use it all. Guys, take this out to the truck but be careful with breakables. You know the drill.”

  The young men spread out.

  “Can we help?” Lillo asked.

  “Looks like you’re about to relax. You all take a load off. If we have any questions, I’ll send out a yell.”

  “Works for me,” said Diana. “I was thinking that since the fog is lifting we could sip and sup on the deck.”

  “Then you’d better start. Small-craft advisory is out,” Sada said. “Gently, fellas.” She shook her head.

  “What does a small-boat advisory mean to those of us on land?” Diana asked.

  “Just that there’s a storm somewhere that’s kicking up the waves. We might see some wind tonight. Just part of normal life. Don’t put that on the bottom!” she yelled at one of the boys, and hurried away.

  The rest of them donned sweatshirts and jackets and carried food and drinks to the porch.

  An hour later, Sada stuck her head in the opening of the sliding glass door. “All done. I don’t know how to thank you, Lillo.”

  “My pleasure. Do you have time to sit for a few?”

  “Nah, I’d better get this stuff back while I still have my moving guys. But thanks. We’ll have to get together soon.” Her head disappeared and the door closed.

  When Lillo went inside a few minutes later, the house looked like it had that morning. Maybe cleaner.

  She let out a huge sigh that ended in a shudder. She felt Jess come up beside her and slip her arm around her waist.

  “You okay?”

  Lillo nodded. She wasn’t sure if she was okay or if this was the beginning of her end.

  Jess squeezed her. “You’re going to be fine. I know you are. You just need to get your groove back.”

  Lillo smiled. They’d spent their childhoods bolstering Jess’s self-esteem and now the tables were turned. Jess was supporting her. Life was weird. And sometimes good.