by Cynthia Swan
Alice laughed.
“Coming here always feels like a trip down the rabbit hole. It’s a magical place.”
Rose met them, a frantic expression on her face.
“What am I going to do? Liz is pregnant, which explains why she’s felt so awful lately, but with her home barfing I don’t have anyone to teach class today.”
With a deep breath, Christy stepped forward.
“It was my idea. I’m not a certified instructor, but I’ve attended enough classes that I could teach today if you want me to.”
Rose turned, her blond hair looking gold when the sun hit it. Blue eyes searched hers.
“Would you? I’d be so grateful.”
“It will be fun.” Seeing the panic on Rose’s face, Christy impulsively hugged her new friend.
“I promise. People love these little mini goats. It makes them feel like they’re part of a simpler time.” She grinned.
“I guarantee every single person will tell you their face hurts from smiling so much when we’re done today.”
Rose let out a sigh. “Let’s do goat yoga.”
The class was full. Mostly women with a few men. People laughed and took pictures as the goats jumped on their backs, wove through their legs and under them.
It happened as the class was ending. Alex jumped up with a yelp. He yanked his shirt off, making a few women sigh in appreciation.
“That goat peed on me.”
He was so indignant and the tiny black and white goat so adorable that Christy couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. As did Rose, Amanda, and her aunt. Pretty soon everyone was laughing. Even Alex.
“Oh well, Rose said I needed to get rid of this old Nickelback shirt.”
“I’m giving that goat all the treats he can eat for peeing on that terrible shirt.”
Rose called out, making everyone laugh again.
“Now I won’t have to pretend Bandit ate it.”
While they gave the goats treats and packed up their things, Christy told her aunt all about the date with Dalton.
“Did I hear Dalton took you ice skating?”
Amanda waggled her eyebrows, her red hair pulled up into a ponytail. “Tell us everything.”
Rose nodded. “One of the little kids that comes here to ride said he saw the two of you.”
She grinned. “He said he’d never seen such an awesome wipeout.”
Christy cringed, remembering how Dalton had gone sailing into the boards at the rink when a tiny girl on skates went flying by him.
“Don’t make fun of him or I might never get him on the ice again.”
Not only had Christy never been to a drive-in movie, she didn’t know they still existed.
Dalton told her to dress warmly and bring a blanket. He’d take care of the rest. They were a week into March and it had been cold for days. No more walks on the beach. She shivered, thinking about the icy wind coming off the ocean.
Christy pulled on leggings, then took them off. Too cold. She tried jeans, but wanted to be comfy so she yanked them off too.
Finally she settled on a pair of fleece lounging pants or what most people would call pajama bottoms. They were all black, so she could get away with wearing them.
She added thick cozy socks in black, a pair of short boots in black, and to top it all off, a thick fisherman’s sweater in ivory over a long-sleeved ivory shirt.
During a shopping trip with her aunt, she’d found a couple of warm fleece blankets. One was blue, green, and gray plaid. The other was red, green, blue, and yellow plaid. They were oversized and incredibly warm. She packed them both into one of the huge blue bags she’d gotten from IKEA.
A bit early, she went down the steps and crossed the yard to Dalton’s cottage.
He answered, his hair still wet.
“I’m early. I was too excited to wait.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
“I would have been early, but I ran over a nail and had to get the tire fixed on the truck.”
He took the bag from her and stepped back. “Come on in. I’m almost ready.”
“It smells so good in here.”
Dalton shook his head.
“No snooping in the kitchen. Dinner is a surprise.”
“I like surprises.”
Christy bent over to pet Sam. The cat stretched out on a blanket on the sofa, yawned and rolled over.
“I’m glad he’s okay.”
The cat had gotten the splint off and had taken to jumping from the counter to the top of the refrigerator. He liked to sit on top of the refrigerator and stare down at Dalton like he was a gargoyle.
“Let’s go.” Dalton jangled the keys.
They’d been driving for twenty minutes when Dalton made a turn down a dirt road.
“Should I be worried? We’ve taken so many turns on these back roads I’ll never find my way home.”
He arched a brow.
“I think somebody’s been watching too many scary movies.”
“Me?” She mock scowled. “You’re the one who got me hooked on scary movies.”
Christy shuddered. “Thanks to you, I had to give my old stuffed doll to the thrift shop.”
He let out a snort. “Afraid it would come to life and get you?” He let out a cackle, which turned into a cough.
“Sorry, my witch cackle needs a bit of work.”
“Serves you right, making fun of me.” She leaned back in the seat, enjoying the warmth from the heater.
“There it is.” She leaned forward. “The screen is huge.”
Dalton paid, and they drove to a numbered spot and parked.
“Use the button to put your seat back as far as it will go. If I designed trucks, I’d make the seats have a recliner button with a footrest for watching movies with your girlfriend at the drive-in.”
Girlfriend. He’d called her his girlfriend. Warmth flooded her body at the words.
“A recliner is a great idea. You’d make millions.”
She passed him a blanket and wrapped the other one around her until she was in a cozy cocoon.
Dalton set the old wicker picnic basket on the seat between them. He pulled out a thermos.
“I brought hot chocolate.”
He rolled his eyes.
“With those tiny marshmallows you like.”
“The marshmallows make the hot chocolate taste better.”
“Says you.” He grinned. “I also brought sweet tea.”
She reached out from under the blanket, patting the basket.
“Get to the good stuff. What did you make?”
Since she’d been in Magnolia Beach, Christy found she loved food. Who would have guessed? Maybe because she’d been on such a strict diet all her life. But now? Flavors exploded in her mouth. She was open to trying anything. Well, almost anything. She’d drawn the line at lima beans. The smell put her off.
Dalton peered inside the basket.
“Let’s see. Lima beans, liver and onions, and pickled beets.” He looked at her, waiting.
“Dalton James, if you don’t have fried chicken and biscuits in there, along with that homemade strawberry jam, I think I’ll cry.”
Christy narrowed her eyes at him.
“I smell chicken. You know how much I love your fried chicken.”
He clapped a hand to his heart.
“A woman who loves me for my cooking. Marry me right now.”
“I should before some other woman snatches up the best-looking cook in town.”
She stopped, the words sinking in as they looked at each other. Who knows how long they would have stayed there, in the warm bubble of the truck, having a wordless conversation if the previews hadn’t started.
The sound came through the truck’s speakers, making them both jump.
“I’ll fix you a plate. I know how much you like to watch the previews,” Dalton said gruffly.
Eyes on the gigantic movie screen, Christy thought she’d float up out of the seat. She’d never been happier.
> Dalton was perfect for her. And best of all? He liked plain Christy. Not the supermodel or the face. Her.
13
The days passed in a blur, one melting into another, and before Christy knew it, it was the middle of March. A month and a half gone, her time half over.
She’d gone from not having a clue how to fill her days to wondering why she hadn’t taken more time off over the years. From talking to Miss Trudy, Christy understood the importance of self-care, of having time to do nothing, to daydream.
The ocean, the lonely sounds of the gulls calling out, refilled the well inside her, a place she didn’t know was empty until she’d spent time simply being present in the moment.
Soon she’d have to decide about her future. But not today. Today, Christy was going to see her dad. The man her mom said had never wanted her.
“Deep breaths. You can do this.” She checked her appearance in the visor mirror one last time before getting out of the car.
At least Aunt Alice warned her that her dad would be at the house today, had given her plenty of time to back out. But this time here at the beach was a time for new habits, alternative ways of looking at life, and Christy was trying to embrace it all.
The door opened before she could knock.
Aunt Alice pulled her in for a hug, the scent of lilac and roses filling her nose as she wrapped her arms around her aunt.
“I’m so glad you came.”
Her aunt took Christy’s coat and hung it on a hook on the wall in the entryway.
“I’m nervous.”
She rubbed her palms down her jeans as she followed her into the living area.
He stood, and a memory hit so hard, Christy reached out, gripping the back of a chair to steady herself. It was from when she was little, maybe five or six, and hadn’t wanted to go to a modeling job for children’s clothes.
She wanted to go to an Easter egg hunt, but her mom said no. She remembered her dad arguing with her mom, saying she needed time to be a kid.
Another memory came, the one when he left, but she pushed it away, determined to listen to his version of what happened. By now she knew how much her mom embellished events or simply altered family history to suit herself.
“I’m glad you came, I wasn’t sure you would.”
Her dad looked as nervous as she felt. He was a handsome man with kind blue eyes and hair the same color as hers. Well, before she’d covered it up with dye. He flicked a glance to her hair but said nothing about the color.
“I thought we all might want something stronger than hot chocolate, so I fixed warm spiced wine.”
Her aunt brought out a tray with three heavy stoneware mugs. Mugs Christy now knew came from Seagrove.
“I’m mostly a beer guy, but I’ll give it a go.” Her dad looked dubious as he sniffed the wine.
She sat on the sofa across from her father, who had nodded to her, but said little. He struck her as the type of man who thought before he spoke, so when he had something to say, you listened.
Christy and her aunt were planning to take a day trip to visit a bunch of the Seagrove potters. There was a map listing each potter, currently there were over a hundred.
Her aunt put a check mark by the ones she’d visited, explaining she wanted to visit them all. There were stars by her favorites and a circle around the ones that weren’t her style.
Christy had already printed out a copy of her own and planned to do the same. She wanted an entire set of dishes in pretty blues or purples to remind her of Magnolia Beach.
Her aunt was the bridge between Christy and her dad, making small talk, drawing them together as they sipped their wine. The mug was warm in her hand, the scent of spices filling her nose as Christy sipped, grateful to have something to do with her hands.
When Aunt Alice cleared her throat, Christy went rigid.
“There’s something I need to say.”
She looked at Christy, her eyes full of love, and Christy instantly relaxed. Everything would turn out the way it was supposed to.
“My sister, your mom and I, we had different ideas about you keeping in touch with your dad.” She looked to Chris, who nodded for her to go on.
“Amy didn’t want me to keep in touch with Chris after they split up.” She took a deep breath.
“I kept your dad up to date on you while you were growing up. Your mom found out, and we had a huge argument. She cut me out of her life that day and never looked back.”
Her dad leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“By then you were on so many magazine covers that it was easy for me to follow along with your career. I had a friend who owned a general store in town. He made sure I got copies of all the magazines.” A small smile played across his face.
“The guys on the job site gave me a hard time, getting all those fashion and beauty magazines. But when I told them you were my daughter and how proud I was of you, how hard you worked, they sure were impressed.”
Christy took a tissue from a box on the table and blew her nose, her dad’s face blurring.
“You were proud of me?”
A sound between a laugh and a sob escaped.
“You wanted me as your daughter?”
Chris sat next to her on the sofa, taking her hands in his.
“Always. I loved you from the moment you were born. And even when your mom wanted me to go and I couldn’t see you anymore, I loved you. I love you still.”
Her dad, with his rugged jaw and broad shoulders, bent his head. When he looked up, there were tears swimming in his eyes.
Christy leaned into him, his arms coming around her as she bawled, soaking his shirt.
“I was a construction worker. Your mama said she was embarrassed of me, of what I did for a living. She said you’d be embarrassed of me too. I’m a foreman now, but I still work in the dirt.”
She pulled back, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose again.
“No, dad. I’m not embarrassed by you. Why would I be? You work hard. You’re kind and honest. What more could a girl ask for in a dad?”
Tears streamed down her face.
“All I ever wanted was a dad who’d be proud of me, wouldn’t think I was stupid.”
“Stupid?” He bristled. “Who said that?”
“Mom did. She told me all the time,” she whispered.
Aunt Alice wiped her own eyes as she got up to refill their mugs.
While she was in the kitchen, her dad pulled out his phone.
“I saved every picture your aunt sent me.”
He opened a photo album and handed her the phone.
As she scrolled through the pictures from when she was little to her latest cover, Christy felt the hole in her heart heal. Her dad had always loved her, still loved her.
“I followed your career from the very beginning.” He cleared his throat. “I’m so proud of you.”
She handed him back the phone. “I do nothing to be proud of.”
“Nonsense.”
Her aunt, frowned.
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked so hard for so many years. You’ve always invested your earnings. You are kind to others. I am proud of you, honey.”
“So am I.” Her dad sat back, one booted foot crossed over his knee.
A smile broke out across her face.
“What?” Her dad was smiling now, too.
“I’m just…” A small laugh escaped. “… picturing you, a big burly construction guy, flipping through Vogue.”
Her aunt laughed. “And the beauty magazines.”
“Hey, don’t knock those.” Her dad grinned. “Look how nice my skin looks. I’ve learned a lot from those magazines.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling her, smoothing over the edges of the hole his love filled, until the wound faded away, healed.
“I got a new job with a big company out of Myrtle Beach so maybe we could spend some time together while you’re here in Magnolia Beach.”
“I’d
love that.”
Christy couldn’t stop smiling. Her dad hadn’t abandoned her, he loved her and wanted to spend time with her. He never thought she was dumb like her mom had said.
Aunt Alice had tried to tell her that her mom was jealous. Jealous of her youth and beauty, but she hadn’t wanted to believe a mom could be like that to her own flesh and blood.
Instead of being angry with her mom, Christy was sad. She pitied her mom. Because there would always be someone out there with more money, someone prettier and younger. Her mom would never be comfortable in her own skin and that was on her, not on Christy.
“Aunt Alice is helping me look for a place here. I can’t decide if I want to be on the ocean or if I want a place a bit more inland so I could have a garden. I’ve always wanted to grow flowers.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, making up for so many lost years. Her dad had to leave in the morning to start his new job. He was renting an apartment until he got to know the area better, then he planned to buy something. Christy hoped as they spent more time together that he might buy a place here in Magnolia Beach. It would be wonderful to have him close.
When she went to the kitchen to help her aunt fix dinner, her dad picked up the book she was reading. She missed the frown as he opened the book, then looked at her before putting it back on the table.
14
The next week, Christy talked to her dad on the phone twice. She found him easy to talk to. He listened and when asked, gave her thoughtful, common sense answers.
During dinner at her aunt’s, she’d explained why she changed her hair and had been going out and about without her usual face of makeup. He hadn’t asked, but she wanted to tell him. Though she still hadn’t told him or her aunt her big fat secret. He wouldn’t be so proud of her then. And after having just found and reconnected with her dad, Christy couldn’t bear to lose him.
The next week, Dalton took her to the local high school for a Friday Night football game. It had been warm the last few days, so it thrilled her the weather turned cold for the game.
She’d packed hot chocolate and sandwiches. Jill from the pub showed her how to make Dalton’s favorite, a Rueben. She’d also packed cheese and crackers along with an assortment of olives and pickles. Her aunt showed her how to make the spiced wine so she’d filled a thermos and brought it as well.