Message in the Sand

by Hannah McKinnon

  His eyes widened. “Ginny?” He looked as surprised as she felt.

  “Wendell. Wow, good to see you.”

  The girl at the cash register held the takeout bag between them in confusion. “So, whose sandwich is this?”

  Ginny could feel herself flush, and she cursed silently. In a town the size of Saybrook, she should not have been surprised to run into Wendell at some point. But today? She pushed her hair back. And looking like this?

  Wendell answered first. “She can have that one. I’ll wait.” Then to her, “I see your taste buds haven’t changed.”

  Flustered, Ginny glanced between him and the girl at the register. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you back there. Please, take the sandwich. You were here first.”

  “No, no. It’s all yours.” He looked her in the eye for the first time and smiled shyly. “I remember how you get when you’re hungry.”

  “Right.” Ginny smiled and thrust a wad of bills at the cashier. “Keep it,” she told the girl when she started to count them out.

  “But it’s ten dollars, too much—”

  “A tip!” Ginny said, grabbing the sandwich from the counter. She turned back to Wendell. Why was he staring at her like that? She glanced at the line behind her. Why was she blushing? “I should get out of the way.”

  “Your sandwich will be another minute,” the girl told Wendell.

  Wendell didn’t seem to mind. He turned to Ginny. “Since you stole my sandwich, how about you wait with me a minute?”

  “You insisted I take it!” she argued playfully, but she was happy for the excuse to follow him to doorway where it was quieter. Suddenly she wanted very much to catch up with Wendell Combs.

  “I didn’t know you were back. Are you visiting your folks?”

  Ginny was surprised he hadn’t heard. “My father—he had a heart attack a couple weeks ago. He’s doing fine, but I wanted to come home and help out.” She did not add that she had lost her job and her fiancé. She wondered if Wendell even knew she’d had a fiancé.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that, Ginny.” Wendell jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’ve always liked your father. He’s a good man.”

  Ginny got this response every time someone in Saybrook mentioned her dad. She’d forgotten how tight the community was and how much her parents were still a part of it. “He likes you, too,” she said, regretting it the instant the words came out of her mouth. No point dredging up old memories. Especially not in the back of the café during rush hour, with her hair looking like this.

  Wendell glanced at the counter, probably wishing his sandwich would appear. She stole a good look at him. There was the familiar line of that strong jaw. The dark hair that made such a contrast against his blue eyes.

  “So, what’re you doing these days?” she asked, feeling more in control.

  If he’d been surprised to see her before, he looked downright stuck right now. “Well, that’s a good question.” He glanced at his boots, then back up at her. “I’m still up at White Pines, as head caretaker.”

  Ginny couldn’t believe it. Her mother had mentioned he’d stayed in town, but Ginny had assumed it was in some sort of professional capacity, like the law school he’d deferred when they were last dating. White Pines had just been a college job. “That’s great.” She heard how hollow the statement sounded.

  “Well, it has been. After everything…” He hesitated. “Well, when I came back, it seemed like a good place to start. I guess it never made sense to leave.”

  Ginny listened, trying to imagine Wendell working there all these years. It was a far cry from the plans they’d made as college grads. But then Wendell had changed.

  “I guess you’ve heard about the accident,” Wendell said. His eyes were deep pools of sadness when he said it.

  “Horrible,” she said. “Such a loss to the town, from what my mother said.”

  Wendell nodded. “Yeah. Worst of all are the two girls left behind. I’m not sure what’s going to happen to White Pines or them. They’re good kids.” He sounded vested beyond the question of his job.

  “I heard there’s a family member taking over. Will you stay on?” She’d thought of Wendell as soon as her mother mentioned White Pines. Now she realized he was likely about to lose his job as well.

  “For now,” he said. “The plan is to sell it, eventually.”

  Ginny studied his expression. Aside from a few gray hairs and a slight weathering to his handsome face, Wendell looked largely unchanged. The proposal she was working on across the street at her parents’ agency flashed in her mind. Should she mention it?

  Just then his order was called. Wendell glanced at the counter, then back at her. He smiled. “I guess that one is mine.”

  Ginny smiled back, even though she felt a plume of disappointment rise up. “Better get it. You know how I am when I’m hungry.” She was tempted to say something more.

  “Good to see you, Ginny. You look well.”

  “You, too.” She watched him stride through the lunch crowd before turning for the door. Seeing him had unsettled her in a way she couldn’t put her finger on, and she felt the urge to leave before Wendell did.

  Sixteen Julia

  The problem wasn’t Aunt Candace, who wanted to return to London. Let her go! The problem was finding someone in Saybrook who would want them.

  Julia’s call to Eliza had been a disaster. “I have something I need to ask you, and I totally get it if the answer is no, but I’m really hoping it’s yes.” She paused, already out of breath. “But no pressure.”

  Right off the bat, Eliza sounded worried. “Jules, is everything okay?”

  Julia groaned. Already she’d flubbed it. “Actually, it is serious.” With as much maturity as she could muster, she explained the situation. Candace wanting to go back to London. Her plans to bring the girls. What leaving White Pines would do to Pippa. (For a second, Julia felt bad for exploiting Pips, but she had to pull out all the stops.)

  Eliza listened in silence, and when Julia finally finished, adding Radcliffe for extra emphasis, there was a muffled sound on the other end of the line. “Eliza?”

  “I’m here, honey.” She sniffed a few times, and Julia realized she was crying.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” Julia rushed to add. “It’s just that you’re the first person I thought of.” She hesitated. “You love us.”

  “Of course I do!” Eliza said firmly. “I always have.” There was a heavy pause, and Julia felt the floor begin to open beneath her. “Honey, I am so flattered and honored that you’re asking me. You two girls… you’re like family. I mean that. But I’m not a parent, and I can’t pretend I have any business taking on a job as important as that. What you need right now is real family. And if your folks wanted you to be with Candace, there’s good reason for that.”

  As soon as the words spilled from Eliza’s mouth, Julia knew it was never going to happen. Eliza didn’t want them. “Like family” was not family. There were probably a million other reasons, but there you had it.

  “So, you knew all along,” Julia said.

  “I spoke with Candace a few days ago.”

  Julia felt betrayed. They’d discussed her future without her? “And you thought Pippa and I would want to leave White Pines?”

  “I didn’t think that, no. But being with Candace is what your parents wanted. They said so in their will, and I want to respect their wishes. But I’m still here for you girls. Always.”

  Julia swallowed hard. “But you don’t want us.”

  “Oh, Jules. I need to come over there.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Julia said, trying to stifle her own tears, which were starting. “I’m sorry I asked. It’s a big ask, I know.”

  “Listen, you can call me any time, day or night. I’m on your side, even though I’m betting it doesn’t feel that way right now.” Eliza sighed audibly, and Julia could hear her struggle.

  When Julia hung up, a fresh loneliness washed over her. She crossed
Eliza’s name off the list in her journal with a permanent black marker. It seemed fitting. Chloe was next.

  She answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

  “Can you come over? There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something big.”

  Chloe was a terrible procrastinator and always late to everything; intrigue might get her moving.

  “Is this about Sam?” She was chewing gum loudly. “You’ve been very secretive lately. I had a feeling something was up.”

  “What? No. Not everything in my life is about Sam, you know,” Julia said.

  “If you say so.” She cracked a bubble in Julia’s ear.

  “Just come over, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Whatever you say, mystery girl. This better be good.” But to her credit, she was there within fifteen minutes, a record.

  Once they were upstairs in Julia’s bedroom with the door closed, Chloe flopped on her bed and stretched out against her decorative pillows. “So, you’ve got big news? Spill.” There was a hand-stitched embroidered pillow from her mother, and Julia’s heart did a pitter patter as Chloe propped herself up with it.

  “I need to ask you something. And I need you to be totally honest with me. I’ll be okay if you say no.”

  Chloe’s eyes widened as she listened, and for once she didn’t interrupt. Julia told her almost everything, leaving out the fact that she’d asked Eliza first. Chloe could be sensitive. Now was not the time to deal with drama. “So, what do you think?” Julia asked when she finished.

  Chloe was not just open to the idea, she was obsessed. “Oh my God—we could be, like, sisters!” Her face lit up. “It makes total sense. We’re together all the time anyway. And my parents already know what it’s like to have two kids. What’s two more?”

  Despite her nerves, Julia found herself laughing as her friend gushed. “Well, I’m not sure that’s the way we should introduce the idea to your mom and dad. But you’ve got the basics.”

  “No, really! Think about it, Jules. You and Pippa would move into the guest room, which I know would kind of suck to share a room with your little sister, but we’d figure that out later. Wait—what if you and I shared?” She was off and running with the idea. “We already go to the same school. We’re both on the tennis team. I mean, it’d be two more mouths to feed, but you guys don’t eat that much.”

  Unlike Eliza, an adult who thought things through perhaps too deeply, Chloe wasn’t thinking seriously enough about it. Taking on two kids wasn’t the same as an extended sleepover, no matter how she tried to spin it. “So, there’s only one problem,” Julia said when Chloe finally stopped talking. “How do we ask your parents?”

  Chloe was adamant. “Let me do it. I know my mother, and she’ll get all mushy and sad about your parents, and then she’ll get all happy that you guys want to live with us. There will be crying.”

  “What about your dad?”

  Chloe waved this away, as though Mr. Fitzpatrick were the least of their concerns. “He’ll be all practical and probably have questions. But Mom always gets final say.”

  Julia wasn’t so sure that was true. The Fitzpatricks she knew were a lot of fun, but they were both levelheaded people. And Chloe’s dad wasn’t exactly a pushover. “I don’t know. I feel like I should be there, even though it’s awkward. I mean, I’m the one asking this of them.”

  Chloe cocked her head as she mulled it over. “True. But let me break the news first. If it’s in front of you, they might be more worried about being polite than really hashing out the pros and cons. You need an answer soon, right?”

  Chloe had a point. And she was incredibly persuasive, some might say bossy. “Okay,” Julia said finally, “but you have to ask them when they’re together, and only if they’re in a good mood. Otherwise table it.”

  “Got it,” Chloe agreed. “My dad gets home at five. Give me until after dinner, okay?”

  It was a long afternoon of waiting, but it gave Julia time to think things through more carefully. It would be okay to live with the Fitzpatricks, even though it would mean moving away from White Pines. Staying in Saybrook was heaps better than the alternative; there was no way she was letting Candace drag them to London. No way in hell.

  Just after six o’clock, she glanced longingly at her phone. She was trying to kill time, hunkered down on the couch with Pippa, watching Shaun the Sheep. What was taking so long? Maybe no news was good news. Maybe they were taking stock of the square footage of the guest room, trying to decide if they could fit two beds in there. Maybe they were making a pros-and-cons list, as Chloe had suggested they probably would. Whatever they were doing, the waiting was killing her.

  At six thirty, the doorbell rang. Julia’s heart leaped in her chest.

  Candace was in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. She frowned. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  “Yes,” Julia lied, jumping up from the couch. Pippa had barely looked up from her TV show. “I’ll get it.” It has to be Chloe, she thought as she raced through the foyer and pulled the door open. Maybe she wanted to deliver the good news in person!

  Only it wasn’t Chloe. It was Mrs. Fitzpatrick. And sitting in the car behind her was a sullen-looking Chloe in the passenger seat.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled tightly. “Sweetheart, I wondered if we could talk?”

  Julia bit her lip nervously. “Hi, Mrs. F. I guess Chloe talked to you.” She held the door ajar.

  * * *

  It was a long conversation. If Candace was upset or angry, she gave no indication. Mrs. Fitzpatrick did most of the talking. By then Chloe had come in, her eyes red and puffy.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking a seat beside her mother on the opposite side of the dining room table. “I tried.”

  From time to time, Julia stole sideways looks at Candace, who listened and nodded, saying very little. In the end, the message was clear: the Fitzpatricks adored the girls. Loved them, in fact. But they were not in a position to adopt them or take them in. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I thought it best if we all sat down and talked this through together.” She reached across the table for Julia’s hand and squeezed it. “To make sure we’re all on the same page.”

  Julia forced a smile, but on the inside, her bones ached. No matter what they said, no one was on her page. No one had any idea of the pain her page held.

  Candace turned to her. “Well, I must say I am surprised by all of this, though I suppose I should not be.”

  “London isn’t the only option for us,” Julia said. “We don’t want to go, and I was trying to figure something else out.”

  Candace thanked Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “I do appreciate you bringing this to my attention. It’s been a very difficult time for all of us. There’s a lot we need to work through.”

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick nodded sadly, but her eyes were trained on Julia. Julia could feel the weight of her sympathy boring a hole into her forehead. She wished she would look away. Instead she did the worst possible thing and came around the table to pull Julia up out of her chair and hug her. “Honey, I am truly sorry for all you’re going through, but we love you. And given time, I really believe everything will work out okay.”

  Julia nodded, but she didn’t believe a word of it. She couldn’t bring herself to look at any of them when they stood to go.

  Candace walked them to the door, and Julia made for the living room. Pippa was still glued to the TV, her thumb jammed in her mouth and Monkey in her hands. “Time for bed,” Julia said, snatching the remote from the leather ottoman. She clicked the TV off.

  “Hey!” Pippa wailed.

  “I said time for bed,” Julia snapped.

  “Julia!” Candace stood in the living room doorway. Pippa began to howl. Candace crossed the rug and went to her. “It has been a trying night. Don’t take out your frustrations on your little sister.” She took Pippa’s hand and led her out of the room. Julia flopped down on the couch, numb.

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sun had fi
nally slipped behind the hills in the distance. Candace flicked on the kitchen lights, and Julia could hear the clicking of her sensible low-heeled shoes across the marble floor. She stood in the living room archway. “I think you should get ready for bed, too.”

  Julia didn’t answer. The skyline was inky gray and dark. She imagined her insides the same color.

  Candace came in and sat beside her on the couch, lowering herself cautiously a cushion’s distance apart from Julia. “That stunt you pulled tonight was unacceptable. Calling up a nice family like that and worrying them to the point where they felt they had to come check on you. As if you were somehow in danger.”

  Julia sat up. “That’s not what happened. I called them because I want to stay here. If you weren’t taking us away, I never would’ve had to do that.”

  Candace looked tired but unwavering. “I know you’re going through a lot. But you’re fifteen years old, not a child. Your little sister is looking to you for guidance.” She looked straight at Julia. “It’s time you licked your wounds and cooperated.”

  Like her parents’ death was a scraped knee? “How can you say that? It’s—”

  “The truth,” Candace said, rising from the couch. “When my parents sent me away to boarding school from this very house, I, too, was angry. I felt like they were getting rid of me. I didn’t want to go.”

  “My parents are dead,” Julia said, standing, too. “And you’re not sending me to boarding school. You’re taking Pippa and me away from everything we know.”

  Candace was not finished. “The truth was, my parents knew what was best for me, even if I didn’t. Moving away taught me independence. Resilience. I learned to count on myself, and I grew up.”

  Julia shook her head. “I don’t need to grow up,” she said, fighting back tears. “What I need is my life back!” Before Candace could say another word, she spun on her heels and ran for the door. Barefoot, she ran headlong across the yard. The grass was already damp and cold beneath her feet. By the time she reached the barn door, her heart roared in her ears. She tugged it open. Inside, she ran across the dirt and hay-strewn floor to Radcliffe’s stall. He raised his head curiously and nickered in greeting.