The Shell Collector

by Nancy Naigle

  He placed his hand on top of hers. “We’re okay, right?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” She watched the smile return to his face.

  He turned his fork on its side and cut a bite-size piece of meat loaf. He followed with a spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy and a satisfying moan. “You still got the cooking chops. Aw, man, this is good.”

  “Eat up. You know me—I always make too much. Which is just enough when you’re feeding Marines.”

  He took a big swallow of his tea and gave her a thumbs-up and a wink.

  “Semper fi!” Jesse yelled.

  “He hasn’t said that in a while.” Amanda placed her fork next to her plate. Semper fi had been Jesse’s first words, the way Jack told it. She was pretty sure the first word he’d actually uttered was mine, although she’d tried hard to hear it as Mom.

  Paul reached over and high-fived him.

  The conversation over dinner was mostly between Paul and Hailey. Jesse was never one to chat during a meal. Fully focused on the food in front of him, he wore some of it on his chin. She handed him a napkin, and he wiped his face without missing a bite.

  After dinner they cleared the table, and then Paul offered to help with the dishes.

  Needing a moment to herself, she insisted on washing them while he and the kids went out back to play. Competing thoughts raced through her mind. Sometimes not having the luxury of a dishwasher was a good thing, like tonight, when she could stand there lost in her thoughts through the mindless task.

  The chatter from outside was like music. Paul had bought bubble solution and was blowing bubbles faster than Hailey and Jesse could chase them down. Occasionally, a bubble would fly past, popping against the window frame. One was so big the bluish-yellow orb bounced against the screen before it burst in a soapy, firework-like spray. A mixture of giggles and squeals floated inside. Usually those sounds were joyful noise, but tonight she felt…flat.

  She stacked the last of the dishes on the draining rack and walked back to her bedroom. After closing the door behind her, she sat on the edge of the bed. In her feminine bedroom, the only masculine touch left was Jack’s shirt on the back of the chair. She moved it from its place of honor into her arms, hugging it in front of the mirror.

  Is this okay? It’s so nice to have Paul here, almost like you’re back, but it feels like I’m betraying you.

  She stood there, wishing for an answer, swaying slowly to the left and the right, ticktock. Tell me what to do.

  In the reflection of her bureau mirror, the shell on the corner of her nightstand reminded her of what was important. She didn’t have to pick it up to read the quote. It had been on her mind ever since they’d found it.

  “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”

  She laughed at the memory of Hailey asking who Have Lots was.

  Letting go.

  Amanda held the shirt to her face, breathing in the fabric. Just the other day, she’d caught the scent of Jack from it again, but today there was nothing there. I’ve been fooling myself.

  She carefully laid out the shirt on her bed, pressing her hands along the fabric as she made each fold, then rolled it down into a small envelope-size bundle. She’d thought redecorating in all the feminine colors would make a difference. She held the shirt. This draped across the back of the chair—it wasn’t Jack. Jack was in her heart. In her children. He’d always be here. There was nothing to hold on to.

  Thank You for watching over us. For bringing special people along my path. Always at the right time. In Your time. I’m listening. Don’t let go of my hand.

  She slid out her top dresser drawer, the one where she kept her most beloved jewelry and mementos, and tucked the shirt there. She then placed Jack’s watch, the one she’d had engraved for him on their wedding day, right on top of it.

  I love you, Jack.

  * * *

  —

  She stepped outside into the dimly lit backyard. Paul sat on top of the picnic table in a flurry of bubbles. The kids hopped and jumped, chasing them across the yard.

  “You two are going to sleep good,” Paul said.

  “You get extra credit for that, Paul Grant,” Amanda teased. “Are y’all having fun?”

  “More fun than hunting ghost crabs.” Paul puffed out another spewing fountain of bubbles that Lawrence Welk would’ve been proud to call his own.

  “Ghost crabs?” Hailey stopped in her tracks. She clocked a finger back and forth toward Paul. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  Paul grimaced but recovered quickly. “You’re exactly right. However, there is such a thing as ghost crabs.” He made pincher actions in the air with his fingers. “The little crabs hide in the sand all day, but at night they come out. If you flash a light on them, they freeze just long enough to grab them.”

  Hailey looked to Amanda for confirmation.

  She shrugged.

  “Don’t tell me your mom hasn’t taken you ghost-crab hunting.” Paul glanced at Amanda, a surprised look on his face.

  “We don’t hunt.” Hailey’s lips pursed into a perfect tiny bow. “That’s just horrible. Look what happened to Bambi’s mom. I’ll never hunt. Animals are precious.”

  He laughed out loud. “Oh my goodness. She really has thought this out.”

  “She knows her mind.”

  “Well, little miss, I don’t go hunting, either, but I think you would love ghost-crab hunting, because no crabs are hurt in the process. It’s an adventure.” He blew a flurry of bubbles, then pulled in Hailey and tickled her until her face went pink. “Everyone comes out alive.”

  “Okay, stop before she spews.” Amanda waved her hands above her head. “Whoa, it’s bedtime for you and Jesse. Get those teeth brushed and get in your jammies.”

  “Mom?” Hailey had her puppy-dog eyes working overtime.

  “Yes. You have to. There’s always tomorrow. I’ll be in there in a minute.” Amanda watched them leave, then turned to Paul.

  He rubbed his hands together. “What a day! Thanks for letting me be part of it.”

  “Are you kidding? You made it. Thank you for spending your time with us.”

  “Could I come over one night next week and take them ghost crabbing?”

  “It’s an actual thing?”

  “Oh yeah. It’s fun. I’ll bring the headlamps, buckets, net, and shovels.”

  “That’s quite an inventory. This sounds like an archaeological dig.”

  “Nah. Way easier than that. It’ll be a blast.”

  “You’re on.” She motioned toward the back door. “Want to help me tuck them in?”

  His eyes lit up. “I’d love to.” He reached for her hand.

  She peered at it with hesitation but placed hers in his. “Okay.” They walked inside together. There was an awkward do-si-do of sorts at the door, but she let him hold it for her and he followed her back to Jesse’s room.

  “You two share bunk beds?” Paul walked over and pinched Hailey’s nose. “I loved the top bunk when I was growing up.”

  “I have my own room,” Hailey said. “I just like being in here with Jesse. He needs me.”

  “You are a very good sister.”

  “I know. We can say our prayers without help.”

  He nodded, crossing his arms in front of him. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Hailey started and Jesse stayed about a word behind her the whole time. “Now my lay me…”

  Amanda had never had the heart to correct them. Hailey had always said it that way, and when Jesse learned it from her, it was too sweet to fix. Someday she’d tell them, when they had their own kids. Or maybe not.

  “Sleep tight,” Paul said while backing out of the room. Amanda walked over and kissed each of them on the forehead. “I love you both so much. Happy dreams.”
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  She closed the door behind them.

  “I will get out of your hair,” Paul whispered over his shoulder as he moved down the hallway. “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime, Paul.” She followed him to the front door so she could lock up once he left.

  When they got there, he turned and dropped a kiss right in the part of her hair, then squeezed her shoulders. He pushed the door open and jogged off.

  When he got to the front gate, she noticed that it didn’t creak.

  Did you fix that too?

  “Thank you,” she whispered into the night. She watched him get into his truck, a great big four-wheel drive with a crew cab.

  This was a different joy than she’d ever felt. With the house secured, she sat on the floor with Denali, absently stroking his thick skin. Am I crazy?

  “What do you think?”

  Denali lifted his head, snuffling and wheezing, then set his chin on her leg and groaned.

  “I know. It’s exhausting to think about it.” She pushed the skin on his face forward, making all the wrinkles squish together, then placed her hands on both sides of his face like a face-lift. “You’re an old soul, aren’t you? You’ve been such a blessing to this family. Thank you for being such a good dog.” She scratched his ears, then got up and walked toward her room, stopping halfway to slap her thigh for Denali to follow her.

  He lumbered forward, his rolls shifting as he walked.

  She climbed into bed and sat there hugging her pillow to her chest. Tonight as she said her prayers, she added a few things to her list: frozen bananas, kites, bubbles, and Paul. Mostly Paul.

  21

  Overnight, things had cooled off, making this morning feel more like a spring day than the middle of July. Amanda walked out to the mailbox to collect the mail. The rusty frame had seen better days. She’d have to come up with a way to spruce it up. It might be a good family paint project. She reached inside and grabbed the stack of envelopes.

  She lowered the stack to flip through them when a shock of color caught her attention, glinting at her feet. A shell about the size of a silver dollar lay there. It was nothing special, just a regular old clam shell. They were everywhere, but this particular one was almost purple. A natural pinkish band ran horizontal around it, kind of like a cross on top. She picked it up and rolled it over in her hand. The inside simply read,

  Interrupt worry with gratitude.

  The tiny letters curled in an imperfect way. She cupped the shell in her palm. The Bible said something about casting her worries on God. But when it came to actually releasing the worry, she was a big fat failure. Maybe the shell would help remind her to release her worry to God.

  She slipped it into her pocket with hope.

  Flipping through the envelopes, she meandered back toward the house. When she pushed the gate open, it didn’t make a sound. Not so much as a squeak? She remembered the absence of the creak last night when Paul left. She wiggled the gate back and forth. Sure enough, it was as quiet as if it were brand-new.

  Hailey walked outside with Jesse in her wake. “Hey, Mom, what ya doing?”

  “I was thinking.” She set the stack of envelopes on the picnic table outside. “What if we walk down the beach and go in the back way to Tug’s Diner today?”

  Jesse marched around the picnic table. “We’re ready.”

  “You two make me laugh.” She got up and marched alongside Jesse. “Let’s go, then.”

  Hailey grabbed her shell-collecting bag and ran to catch up.

  “We are so grateful for this beautiful day,” Amanda said, touching the shell in her pocket. “Right?” An attitude of gratitude was something she could help instill in their days while helping her stay positive too.

  Instead of taking the beach road, they walked to Tug’s by way of the shoreline. Hailey and Jesse didn’t seem to mind the long walk, only stopping to add treasures to Hailey’s bag. A wave washed in, sending a fine mist into the air. Amanda pushed her bangs from her face. The salty spray had left her ponytail sticky and stiff. Who cares about bad hair when you feel good all the way to your soul?

  “Almost there. See it?” Amanda pointed to the building that hung over the dune. It was strange how the shore eroded a teensy bit each year from both sides. The Atlantic and Pacific. It seemed if it was pulling California into the water the way people talked, they’d be getting more and more coastline here on the East Coast. But Maeve said the shore was shrinking here, too, and if anyone knew, it would be Maeve.

  By the time they reached the steps, Hailey was dragging her bag of shells.

  “Oh goodness. I think you may have to leave those out here, Hailey-bug. They are so sandy.” Amanda picked up the bag and shook it. A cloud of sand rained down in front of them.

  “They got heavy.”

  “That’s okay. They’ll be safe out by the birdcage.”

  They traversed the steep wooden stairs up to the gazebo, where The Wife called out a greeting.

  “Hello.”

  “Pretty bird,” Hailey sang. “You’re going to have to take care of my shells while we eat, okay?”

  The Wife made a series of clicks and clucks followed by, “I’m okay. You okay, my pretty?”

  Amanda set Hailey’s bag on the railing next to the birdcage. “I’ll go in and order while you two visit the bird.”

  “I love that bird.” Jesse marched straight over, calling her name the whole way.

  When Amanda pushed the back door open, balloons ricocheted precariously against it. Please don’t pop. The whole place was filled with pink helium balloons in pairs. She scanned the room for a table.

  “Kimmy had her babies. We’re celebrating. Are you alone today?” Tug lumbered over, almost a wobble the way he shifted his weight from leg to leg as he moved.

  “The kids are outside talking to The Wife.”

  “She’s a talker.” Tug grabbed menus and motioned for her to follow him.

  “Amanda?” Maeve waved from the corner booth. “Come sit with me.”

  “Hey there! Tug, we’ll join Maeve if that’s okay.”

  “Okay by me.” He handed Amanda the menus, and she slid into the booth across from Maeve.

  “Bring more coffee, Tug, would you, please?” Maeve moved her mug to the edge of the table, then caught Amanda’s eye. “How are you doing?”

  “Great. Look at all the pink!”

  “There are so many wonderful things happening. They won’t be home from the hospital for a few days, but we’ll have to go visit as soon as they are.”

  “I’d love to join you. Two babies at once. Wow. I could barely keep up with one at a time.”

  “It won’t be easy, but we’ll offer a hand. That’s how the locals are around here. Like one big family.” Maeve smiled. “Speaking of one big family, I can’t quit thinking about the odds of Paul jogging up on the beach. You two being old friends and all that. Isn’t it wonderful how the world reconnects people?”

  “I still can’t believe it. I thought I’d never see him again. But it was good to reconnect.” Heat flooded her cheeks. She hoped Maeve didn’t notice. “He came over yesterday and flew a kite on the beach with the kids. They loved it!”

  “I saw that big kite from my porch. I’m sure the kids did love it. How about you?”

  It was like Maeve could see right into her heart. “I liked it too. It was a lot of fun.”

  Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “He seems like a really good man.”

  “He is.” The words had come out so breezy. Just thinking about him left her pulse racing. She put her hand on the bench, steadying herself.

  “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing.” In an attempt to change the subject, she quickly added, “Just a lot going on. Must be all the excitement.”

  “Is Paul meeting y’all here for break
fast?” Maeve’s head popped up, scanning the restaurant like a meerkat on alert.

  “No. I’m sure he’s working. It’s a long ride to the base, but I guess it’s worth the drive to live here. I wouldn’t have understood that before. But now, after living here, I get it.”

  “I agree. Whelk’s Island is a very special place.” Maeve nodded slowly.

  “Oh, I wanted to tell you. I found a shell this morning.” Amanda took it from her pocket and placed it on the table. “This one has a message.” She looked into Maeve’s eyes. “It’s not the first one I’ve found.”

  Maeve thrummed her fingers on the table. “I suppose it means you’re extra special.” She ran her thumb across the shell, then turned it over in her hand before looking back up at Amanda. “Interrupt worry with gratitude,” she read. “Are you worried about something?”

  “My future, I guess. How I’m going to take care of my children on my own. If I’ll be a good teacher. If moving here was smart.” She’d danced around the most important thing worrying her at the moment. “Paul showing up like he did. What will people think?”

  “About the two of you spending time together?” She shrugged. “You’re old friends.”

  “We were best friends. Are, I guess.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Is it weird that it seems like time just rolled back? When Jack died, that whole situation tugged us apart, but it wasn’t like Paul had done anything. It was the grief. I was angry and hurt. It was just too hard to be around Paul. He and Jack were inseparable.”

  “I can understand that. So then why would people think anything of it?”

  “You know how people talk. It’s been barely over two years.”

  “No one is counting anymore but you.” Maeve set the shell back down in front of Amanda. “It’s self-explanatory. Don’t worry about any of that. Just focus on making every single day a happy one. Live every moment to overflowing.”

  “Cast my worries. I know, I know. I was praying about that this morning. I’m great at saying I’m doing that, but then I worry too.”