by Carrie Elks
Switching on the engine in her car, Ember could already feel herself relaxing. The stereo kicked on, Sara Bareilles’ soulful voice feeling like a warm embrace. Backing her car out of the driveway, she maneuvered onto the main road, steering her car in the direction of the small main street that served both as Angel Sands’ business district, and its tourist center.
It had been four months since her father had died, but it still felt so raw. Every time they had to face an important day without him – like her mom’s birthday – it felt as though the wound he’d left within them had been torn open once again, reminding them how starkly they felt his absence.
It had been a terrible few months. First with his pancreatic cancer diagnosis, which came only a few days after Thanksgiving, followed by the prognosis the oncologist had given them, which hadn’t been good at all. It felt as though they’d been mourning him before he’d even passed on – both too long, and yet not enough time at all.
And then there was Will. But she didn’t want to go there. Not today, maybe not any day. In the story of her life, losing him should have come a very far second to her father’s death, and yet it still stung like hell.
No, she wasn’t going to think about Will. Instead she leaned forward and turned up the stereo, letting Sara’s sweet voice surround her. The warm throb of the bass filled her ears, and pushed the dark thoughts out of her mind.
It only took ten minutes to get to Main Street. Angel Sands was small that way. Growing up, she’d taken this place for granted, assumed that everybody went to the beach after school, and that it didn’t matter where in the world you lived, the air always smelled of salt and ozone.
But when she went away to college in the north of the state that she realized that wasn’t true at all. She’d found herself missing this place, aching to fall asleep to the sound of the surf, needing to feel the constant warmth of the sun as she kicked her way through the waves. It felt natural to return to her home town after graduation and taken up a teaching position at the local elementary. Natural, too, that she’d settled down with a local man – Will Martin – and accepted his proposal.
And look how that turned out.
She steered her car into the parking lot behind Megassey’s. It wasn’t just an old-fashioned hardware store. It was also a treasure trove of memorabilia and odds and ends. Tourists came flocking to look at the old photographs affixed to the walls, and rummage through the vintage souvenirs that Frank Megassey placed proudly on the shelves. In the height of summer, he’d open a soda fountain, and give the Heavenly Ice Cream parlor across the street a run for its money. Like the rest of the stores that lined the pretty main street – complete with painted boards and floral displays – Megassey’s was loved by locals and tourists alike.
Pulling the car door open, Ember stepped out onto the parking lot. The warm air immediately embraced her, heating up her exposed skin, cool after ten minutes in the air-conditioned car. She was wearing her usual summer uniform of shorts and a shirt, this one knotted at her waist to keep it from trailing down past her thighs. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, exposing her neck. Like everybody around here, she dressed casually. Why bother to make a fuss when you were either going to swim in the ocean or ride a bike in the hills?
They hadn’t quite reached peak tourist season yet. That was a few weeks away, when Memorial Day would usher in a hoard of visitors, and the annual Angel Sands Fair would keep them here; another two firsts without Dad for them all to face. They seemed to be stacking up thick and fast.
It only took a few minutes to buy the propane tank. Megassey’s was mostly staffed by teenagers on Saturdays and during the school vacations. Ember knew some of them by sight – older brothers and sisters of her elementary school pupils – but unlike Frank Megassey and his wife Lula, they weren’t chatty and wanting to talk. The boy who was at the register – Ben, according to his typed name badge – gave her the receipt, and inclined his head toward the back of the shop. “The tanks are out the back, by the door. I’ll page the associate in the back to remove a tank for you. You need any help getting it into your car?”
“No thanks. I’ve got it.” She flashed him a smile, then made her way down the aisle, past the shelves stuffed with screws and nails and old fashioned blown-glass models of whales and dolphins. She had a little smile on her face – it was okay to feel pleased with herself, wasn’t it? She’d averted a crisis with one little car trip. Girl power ruled.
Except when it didn’t. Apparently girl power only got you so far when it came to lifting a full tank of propane. She curled her fingers around the steel neck and tugged, but the tank didn’t move an inch.
Okay, deep breath. Time to find that girl power again. A propane tank wasn’t going to defeat her.
Ember looked back over her shoulder, her eyes picking out the boy who’d assisted her. Ben was leaning on the counter, smiling at a girl as she handed a photo frame over to him, the two of them talking rapidly. She could go over and interrupt them, requesting to take him up on his offer, but somehow the thought of it just rankled her.
She didn’t want to ask the boy for help, didn’t want to ask anybody for that matter. She could do this. She just needed to approach it from a different angle.
A moment later a bright idea hit her. The propane tank was cylindrical. All she had to do was get it on its side, and roll it out to the car. But even that was easier said than done. By the time she was pushing the bottle across the cracked concrete to her car, she’d already managed to work up a sweat. Her shirt was sticking to her skin, tendrils of dark brown hair that had fallen out of her ponytail were clinging to her neck. She lifted a hand to brush the perspiration from her brow.
She was almost there. Just the small matter of getting the propane tank from the ground and into her old Toyota. She only needed to lift it a few feet.
She gave the tank another tug, as if it had somehow changed properties in the minutes since she’d last tried to lift it. In spite of its weight, she managed to lift it half an inch above the ground before the effort became too much, and she released it back onto the ground of the parking lot.
“Do you need any help with that?”
She glanced up from her crouched position. A man had stopped by her car, and was staring down at her quizzically. Brushing some stray hairs from her sticky brow, she stood, trying to look casual. Slowly she lifted her face up to look at his, and she felt a strange fluttering in her chest.
He looked familiar, though she had no idea why. There weren’t many guys in Angel Sands with dark cropped hair and blue eyes so vivid she could imagine swimming in them. Her mouth felt dry as she took in his full lips and sharp jaw, still trying, and failing, to place him.
Maybe it was just her imagination. Most everybody in Angel Sands looked familiar. That’s what growing up in a town like this did to a person.
“I’m just having a little trouble—”
“You need to be careful with that tank,” he interrupted, staring down at the tan metal. “It’s pressurized. If you damage it, you could have an explosion on your hands. You shouldn’t be rolling it around.” He glanced over his shoulder at the hardware store, a frown furrowing his brow. “Didn’t Frank offer to have one of his boys bring it out for you?”
Ember shrugged. “They seemed a little busy.” She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d brushed off any offers of assistance. Not when she’d so clearly failed to move the damn tank herself. “I didn’t realize it was so heavy.”
“You want it in your trunk?”
“Yes, but I can go back in—” She stopped talking when she saw him bend down and wrap his hand around the steel neck, his bicep muscles flexing and pushing out the fabric of his grey t-shirt. Like Ember, he was wearing shorts, and as he stood she could see how defined his leg muscles were.
Will had never been to the gym in his life. He’d been too busy working to lift weights or run on the track, or that’s what he’d told Ember anyway. She’d never been particularly a
ttracted to guys with muscles, but watching the way this man’s body moved was fascinating. They weren’t muscles without meaning, they had a function and they worked for him.
Right now, they were working for her, too.
“Be careful driving home.” He still hadn’t cracked a smile. “You really should look into deliveries. The trucks are risk assessed and built to carry dangerous loads. Having a loose propane bottle in the back of your trunk is asking for trouble.”
“I only live a few minutes away.”
“That’s all it takes.”
Okay, so he might have a body to die for, but his seriousness was grating on her. She wasn’t exactly a daredevil, was she? Last year when she and Will had visited the Grand Canyon, she’d been too scared to even look over the edge.
Mr. Serious-but-sexy could save his health and safety lectures for somebody who needed it.
“Well, I’ll be sure to drive carefully for those few minutes.” She flashed him a smile, determined not to let her annoyance show. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”
With that, she got into her car and started it up, letting the breath she’d been holding escape. And if she snuck a last look at those muscles when she reversed out of the parking lot and onto the road, well it didn’t mean a thing, did it?
3
Lucas watched the Toyota until it left the parking lot, turning right onto Main Street before it was out of sight. He frowned, wondering why he’d been so worked up by the fact somebody was driving a propane tank home.
Yeah, propane could lead to explosions – he’d seen one or two of them in his time – but the woman had said she was a local, and he could see from the way she steered her car that she was a careful driver. It still didn’t stop his body from feeling as though he was on high alert. His blood pumping through his veins as if he’d just been on a long run.
Maybe it was being back in town that did it for him, but then he came back often enough – to visit his parents or to meet up with friends. In the months since Christmas he must have been in Angel Sands at least four times.
But those were only visits. Now he was home for two months, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself.
He glanced to the left again, at the empty space where the Camry had been. His thoughts turned to its driver, the woman who seemed determined to lift that propane tank into the trunk. He’d watched her wheel the metal tank out of Megassey’s, her nose screwed up with concentration when she managed to get the tank back onto its end. For a moment he’d hesitated, not wanting to interfere, reminding himself he wasn’t at work now.
But that’s not how he ticked; if somebody needed assistance, he gave it to them.
“Lucas Russell, is that you?”
Pulling his gaze away from the empty parking lot, Lucas turned to see Frank Megassey himself climbing out of a van and onto the blacktop. “Yes, sir, it’s me.”
“Your mom told me you were coming back.” Frank came to a stop in front of him, pulling his tattered blue Padres cap from his head, and folding it in his hands. “Told me you should be sending some business my way, too. I hear you’re fixing up the old cottage.”
Lucas had only been back in town less than two hours. He couldn’t help but be impressed by how fast the grapevine was working. “I’m gonna try,” he said. “I’ve got two months to refit it completely. I’m not sure if that’s enough time.”
“It’s a small place, it shouldn’t take that long.” Frank nodded at him, his eyes narrowing. “You’ll need a new kitchen, a new bathroom, and maybe some rewiring. I know a few good electricians if you need a referral.”
“That would be great.”
“And what are you going to do with it once it’s all refurbished?” Frank asked. “Sell it or keep it as a rental?”
“I’ve no idea, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I guess I’d have to talk to Caitie about it.” The thought of selling the place made his neck itch. Yet what good was it to them when he was living in White City and Caitie was all the way across the country in New York? Lucas wasn’t usually this sentimental over things.
“Well, no worries about that right now. Why don’t we go to my office and I can write down what we need to order in for you. I can arrange for it to be delivered straight to your place.” Frank inclined his head toward the hardware store, and the two of them made their way to his office, a tiny cubbyhole stuffed at the back. For the next twenty minutes, they discussed the pros and cons of plumbing systems and wiring, as Frank made notes on his order pad with his blue pen. When they finished, he laid it back down on the desk and smiled up at Lucas.
“Okay, you should have this all by the end of the week.”
“Thanks, Frank. I appreciate it.” Lucas smiled at him. Maybe there were some advantages of living in a small town. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have gotten this kind of service in White City.
“Well that’s good, because I have a favor to ask of you.”
“You do? What’s that?”
Frank hesitated for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table in a fast rhythm. “It’s the Angel Day Fair in a few weeks. I could sure use your help on the committee.”
Lucas opened his mouth, but no words came out. Quickly closing it, he swallowed, and tried to think of a fast excuse.
Helping out with the Angel Day Fair was the last thing he wanted to do. It was Angel Sands’ annual day of celebration, a time to look back to the day the town was founded over a hundred and fifty years earlier. Even as a kid he’d found the fair a little too sickly sweet for his taste; he’d preferred to grab his surfboard and take advantage of the fact that none of the tourists were on the beach, riding the waves with his friends until night fell.
He hadn’t been to one of the fairs for years, hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe his mom had mentioned it from time to time, but even that was hazy.
“I…ah…” Lucas swallowed again. “What kind of help?”
Frank’s smile broadened. From the way the older man was looking at him, he must have thought it was a done deal. “You don’t have to do much. Just attend a couple of committee meetings and then help on the day of. I’ll probably put you on security. There aren’t a lot of young men like you on the committee.”
Lucas could bet his bottom dollar on it. “I’m not sure. I’m gonna be busy with the renovation, plus I’m volunteering for the Fire Department. Mitch Lakin might need me on call.”
“You are? That’s great. I’ll call Mitch and let him know you’re on the committee. We always have a firefighter on hand to help us with health and safety.” Frank clapped his hands together. “This is pure serendipity.”
“Yeah. It sure is.” Or bad luck. Tomayto-tomahto.
“Our first meeting is next week. I’ll give you a call with the details.”
The two of them stood, and Frank shook Lucas’ hand vehemently. “It’s really good to have you back in town, Lucas.”
It was? Right now Lucas wasn’t quite so sure about that.
“It was a good party, wasn’t it?” Chelsea asked Ember, as the two of them walked along the shoreline later that evening, their bare feet sinking into the wet sand. The sun was slowly setting into the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of oranges and blues. A few wispy clouds drifted above the skyline, their tips tinged with deep purple.
Ember loved the beach at this time of night. It reminded her of when she was a child, and their father would sneak her down for one last paddle before bedtime. After Chelsea was born, Ember had clung a little closer to him, surprised and perplexed by the closeness her mother had to the new baby. And he’d stepped up, the way a father should, making her feel special and loved. He’d shown her that her age gave her special privileges. That they could go on adventures that Chelsea couldn’t until she was older. He taught her that being a big sister had way more benefits than downsides.
She felt that keenly, now, as they meandered toward the boardwalk, the lights from the pier sparkling in the distance. She missed
Chelsea when she wasn’t here, especially after her split with Will. There was a special bond between the sisters that made her heart feel full.
“It really was,” Ember agreed. “I think Mom enjoyed it, even if I caught her having a little cry in the garage earlier.”
Chelsea sighed. “She spends a lot of time in there, doesn’t she?”
“She says it makes her feel closer to Dad.” Ember wiggled her toes in the sand. “Though all it does is make her upset. I keep telling her we should clear it out, but she won’t.”
“It will be a hell of a job. I don’t blame her.” Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “There’s stuff in there going back forty years. He never threw anything out.”
Their father wasn’t exactly a hoarder, but he liked to keep old things. Empty boxes of appliances they’d long since stopped using, old collections of stamps, and maps that he hadn’t looked at in years. He’d kept them meticulously organized, in labeled boxes that lined the shelves, but there were still so many of them.
“Remember how Mom used to tell him to throw it all away?” Ember said, as they reached the shoreline. It had been Chelsea’s idea to come down to the beach, the way they used to when they were kids. To watch the sun sink down, and the curtain of night lift up. “Here’s her chance, and now she’s refusing to do it.”
“I guess people grieve in different ways,” Chelsea said.
“Yeah, they do.” A wave washed in, covering their feet as they walked. The water was surprisingly cold given the warmth of the evening. They were both still wearing shorts – though Chelsea had covered her arms up with a jacket, and Ember had pulled on one of her mom’s old sweaters before they left the house. “I just wish I could do something to help her.”
That was the hardest part. Dealing with her own grief was one thing, but watching her mother try to claw through it was another. A reminder of what happened when you lost somebody you loved.