A Walk Along the Beach

by Debbie Macomber

  “Hogwash,” Harper insisted. “I didn’t get enough sleep the night before and needed to catch up is all.”

  “Whatever you say.” I wasn’t sure I believed her, and resisted rolling my eyes.

  Seeing that Alice was dealing well with the customers, I grabbed a coffee and joined my sister. Lowering my voice, I said, “I happened to run into Sean last night.”

  “And?” Harper arched her neatly trimmed eyebrows.

  Hiding my smile would have been impossible. “He asked me out.”

  A knowing smile quivered at her lips. “Told you.”

  No use arguing. Besides, I didn’t want to. “You did.”

  “Where’s he taking you?”

  “He asked me what I wanted to do.” That had impressed me. “I suggested a walk along the beach.”

  “What!” Harper cried, shaking her head as if I’d committed some terrible faux pas. “No way. After he kept you waiting all this time. The least you can do is ask him to take you to dinner.”

  “Next time,” I said, amused at her outrage. “At the end of the day, I’m tired. I’d rather get to know him without all the fuss of us sitting in a crowded, noisy restaurant, trying to have a conversation.”

  Harper considered my words before slowly shaking her head. “You and I are different people.”

  I laughed. “You mean to say it’s taken you this long to realize that?”

  My sister smiled. “Not really. If it was me, I’d have Sean wine and dine me and make sure he understood how fortunate he was that I was willing to spend time with him.”

  That was Harper, all right. “But then you get ten men all wanting to date you to my one.”

  She bit off the end of her scone. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Hardly.” We both knew I was right, and we both knew it wasn’t worth arguing over. Time to change the subject. “Where did you put you know who?” I asked, my voice a whisper. I figured she’d understand I was referring to Snowball.

  Harper nearly spit out a bite of her scone. “You mean Snowball?” she asked, as if this was all one big joke.

  I glared back at her. We couldn’t very well blurt out that we were keeping a cat in an apartment complex that didn’t allow pets. “Yes,” I admitted.

  “It isn’t like we’re hiding an escaped felon.”

  “Whatever. Where is she?”

  “My room, like I promised. I got a box with kitty litter and have a bowl of food and water out for her. She’ll be fine until I’m back this afternoon.”

  “Did you close your bedroom door?”

  Harper blinked and shook her head. “Of course not. You’re the one who insisted that would be cruel.”

  I could see it all now: Within a few weeks Snowball would grow big enough to curl herself up in the front window, lazing in the sun for all the world to see as they passed by. There would be a tenant revolt because others in the complex would demand to know why we had a pet and they weren’t allowed one. Then the landlord would be notified, and we would be asked to move. It came to me as clear as a termination notice.

  “You’ve got that look again,” Harper murmured, frowning at me. “You’re thinking too much.”

  One of us needed to. “We’re going to lose our apartment because of that cat. Mark my words, Harper Lakey. Mark my words.”

  * * *

  —

  Following the lunch hour, Teresa Hoffert stopped by. She wasn’t a regular customer and I enjoyed seeing her. Teresa cleaned houses and was the hardest-working woman I knew. Her daughter, Britt, had worked for me her senior year in high school and was one of the best employees I’d ever hired. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Teresa,” I said, happy to see her. “What can I get you?”

  “How about a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

  “Sounds good.” I removed the sandwich from the refrigerated glass case and poured her a cup of coffee.

  She paid me and took a seat at a table close to the counter. We chatted for a bit, and it was good to catch up with her and get the latest news about Britt and her younger brother, Logan. After Teresa finished her lunch, she left. I knew that her buying herself lunch was a rare treat and that she did it because she wanted to support me and the café.

  As the afternoon progressed, I found myself watching the clock. Sean knew I closed the shop at three, but I often stayed longer to get everything ready for the following morning. When Shirley arrived that morning, I’d asked her if she would cover for me and she’d readily agreed.

  When Sean came by for our date, I was as ready as I was likely to be. I’d changed into white jeans and a sleeveless red blouse with ruffles on both sides of the long row of buttons. It was one of my favorites.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” I nervously wiped my hands down the front of my pants.

  “You ready?”

  I nodded, letting him know that I was. He looked wonderful. Better than ever, in a checkered shirt and khaki pants.

  “I brought Bandit with me. He’s in the car. You don’t mind, do you? I hated leaving him alone at the house.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Even though I’d made a fuss over Harper’s cat, I was an animal lover and was especially fond of dogs.

  Shirley locked the door behind me and winked, letting me know she approved. Earlier, when I’d asked her to stay late, she’d said she felt it was high time I made a life for myself. And she was right. I’d invested so much of myself in my tiny café at the cost of everything except family. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out with someone I was excited to see. I’d dated some in the last few years, thanks to Harper. My sister often took pity on me and asked me to double-date with her. Most were blind dates and had petered out quickly. With my irregular hours and dedication to making my café a success, there wasn’t a lot of room in my life for romance. Sad to say, I was a sorry disappointment to Harper.

  Sean was the exception. Almost from the time he’d started showing up, I’d felt drawn to him. When my sister suggested that he was interested in me, I’d wanted to believe it but dared not hope. I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment. Even now, I wasn’t sure what it was about him that I found so compelling. Yes, he was attractive in a boyish sense. I liked that he wasn’t overconfident and had downplayed his success.

  Okay, I’ll admit it. I’d gone online soon after meeting him and checked out his website. I soon discovered that he’d worked all around the world and taken photographs for major corporations, done catalog shoots, and had several magazine cover photos—including more than one for National Geographic. Sean was successful, and yet he’d never once bragged about his work or made it apparent he was as well known as he was. I couldn’t help but admire that about him.

  Sean opened the rear door of his car and a midsize dog leaped from the backseat. I recognized him as the stray I’d fed a couple of times. Sean had him by a leash. Once out of the vehicle, Bandit paused and looked around. Sitting on his haunches, he turned his head and looked back at Sean.

  Bending down on one knee, Sean spoke to him softly, rubbed his ears, and then righted himself. “Bandit is nervous and needed a bit of reassurance.”

  “Why is he nervous?” I asked, joining him as we sauntered toward the beach, Bandit leading the way.

  “Preston and I suspect his previous owner brought him into town and abandoned him. Bringing him back here, I think he’s afraid I’m going to do the same thing.”

  “Poor Bandit.” I bent forward and gently stroked his fur. He looked at me with deep brown worried eyes. “You have nothing to be afraid of, fella,” I told him.

  Once we reached the beach, we found it crowded with the normal summer population. Kids raced, kicking up sand as they flew kites up and down the beach. Several cars were parked up from the surf and there was a line of multicolored umb
rellas offering shade. The remains of sandcastles littered the area as we walked side by side, Bandit taking the lead.

  After a bit, Sean reached for my hand.

  “I missed seeing you this morning,” I said, “which is silly, because I knew you’d be by later.”

  “I nearly came in.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He chuckled. “The truth? I thought I might look a bit overeager, which I confess I was.”

  I smiled to myself, not wanting him to know how much I’d been looking for him to show even though I now knew he wasn’t a coffee drinker.

  “I’m going out of town on Thursday. I’ll be gone all day and probably won’t return until late.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “A small town in eastern Washington called Toppenish. Have you ever heard of it?”

  I didn’t know that I had. “Maybe,” I ventured.

  “I have an assignment to shoot town murals, and apparently Toppenish is known for them.”

  “That sounds interesting.” Another day, possibly two, without my Sean fix.

  “I’ll need to bring Bandit with me. It’s going to be a long day, so if I don’t show up for a couple of days, you’ll know why.”

  So I was right. “You travel a lot, don’t you?”

  “On occasion. I’m waiting on a big assignment but got word this morning of another assignment I’d be foolish to refuse. The big one is in the Philippines, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to come through for another couple of months. I have another planned on spec in Bolivia.”

  He wasn’t kidding. He got around. “How long will you be in South America?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “That long?” I asked, before I could hold it back.

  His hand squeezed mine. “Will you miss me?”

  “I think I will.”

  Bandit tugged on his leash, disliking our slower pace. The wind whipped around us and the scent of the ocean wafted along the beach. Seagulls flew with the wind current. I saw a pretty shell and bent down to retrieve it.

  “What about Bandit?” I asked. “Who’s going to watch him while you’re away for an extended time period?” I’d volunteer if I could, but that was impossible. Not with the no-pet policy and my hours at the café.

  “Preston’s got someone lined up for me. A boy by the name of Logan Hoffert. It seems he trained a puppy Keaton gave him a few years back and is quite good with dogs.”

  “I know Logan. In fact, his mother was in today for lunch. Logan will do a great job.”

  “Preston said the same thing.”

  Winding my arm around his elbow, I asked him the same question he’d posed to me. “Will you miss me while you’re away?”

  He grinned down at me, holding my gaze. “Like crazy. I’m already dreading the one day when I’ll be in Toppenish.”

  If we were going to be in a relationship, and that was a big if, then I would need to adjust to his traveling schedule. The same applied to him. Sean would need to accept my irregular hours.

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Sean said, stopping abruptly, his eyes brightening. “Come with me.”

  “With you? Where?”

  “To Toppenish. It’s just one day. I’ll be leaving soon afterward for Bolivia, and this might be the only time we have together for the next few weeks. Do you think you could take time away from work?”

  My head was spinning. Shirley and Alice had filled in for me last Saturday when Lucas was in town. Everything had gone smoothly at the café. Shirley was great, and if Alice wasn’t available, then maybe Harper could fill in. She’d done it before and was great with the customers. The thing was, I wanted this day with Sean. I wanted it badly.

  “I’ll make it work,” I said.

  Sean beamed me a huge smile. “Great. We leave early Thursday morning.”

  “I’ll be ready whenever you say.” Harper might want to be wined and dined. I was completely happy spending time with Sean, driving to the other side of the state for a photo shoot.

  CHAPTER 8

  Willa

  When I arrived home, I found Harper sitting with Snowball on her lap and her phone to her ear. She glanced up when I entered the apartment and excitedly waved her hand at me, indicating I should sit down next to her.

  “Hold on, Lucas, Willa’s here.”

  “It’s Lucas?” This was a surprise.

  Harper nodded. “He wants me to put the phone on speaker.”

  Having recently spent time with our brother, I hadn’t expected to hear from him this soon. “What’s up?” I asked, sitting down next to my sister.

  “I don’t know,” Harper said, as she set the phone down on the coffee table. “He said he had something to tell us but would wait until you could be here, too.”

  “Is it about Dad?” I fretted that he might have gotten drunk on the job and been fired. Or, worse, that he’d been arrested for driving while intoxicated.

  “Nothing like that,” Lucas’s voice came through the phone. “Both of you better sit down.”

  I drew in a deep breath, wondering from the seriousness of his tone what this could be about. “Okay, I’m ready. What is it?” I couldn’t help being nervous. “What’s going on?”

  “I wanted to mention it last weekend but promised I wouldn’t,” he started.

  “Mention what?” Both Harper and I said at the same time. We shared a worried look, fearing the worst.

  “Chantelle and me.”

  I leaped to my feet and braced my fists against my hips. “Lucas Lakey, if you tell me you’ve broken up with Chantelle, I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive you.”

  “Hold on, sis, we didn’t break up. We’re getting married.”

  Harper and I both gasped with delight.

  “You’re getting married!” Harper nearly tossed Snowball from her lap.

  “When?” I asked.

  “December fifth.”

  “You’ve already set the date?” Harper cried.

  It was clear that the wedding plans had been in the works for some time and that we’d been kept in the dark.

  “You’d already proposed when you were here last Friday, hadn’t you?” I said, voicing my suspicions.

  “Yes, he had.” It was Chantelle who spoke. “And my ring is everything I hoped it would be.”

  “Why keep it a secret?” Harper asked before I had a chance.

  “The ring was being sized and wasn’t on her finger yet,” Lucas explained. “Besides, we hadn’t told Chantelle’s family.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Harper complained. It wasn’t like either of us were in contact with Chantelle’s family or would spoil their announcement.

  Once more Harper said the same thing that was on my mind. It happened often, I suppose because we were that close, we shared each other’s thoughts.

  “No wonder you were upset when we started bugging you about marrying Chantelle,” I said. His frown had been fierce enough to melt concrete.

  “It’s my fault,” Chantelle was quick to chime in. “I wanted a ring on my finger before we told my parents. Lucas said he wouldn’t tell his family then, either, and so we didn’t. I’ll admit it was hard to keep it to myself, especially when we were with you and your dad.”

  “So tell us about the ring!” Harper relaxed against the back of the sofa, looking smug. “A diamond, I presume. How many carats did he spring for?”

  “Harper!” The fact that our brother was marrying the love of his life was far more important than the size of the diamond.

  “Two carats, and it’s stunning.”

  I could envision Chantelle holding out her hand and examining her engagement ring.

  “Congratulations, you two,” I said, genuinely pleased for Lucas, although it had taken him long enough to make the leap.
Chantelle was exactly the right person for my brother. I couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t recognize it when I did.

  “I want both of you to be bridesmaids,” Chantelle said. “My sister will be the maid of honor.”

  “Bill and Ted will serve as ushers,” Lucas added.

  I recognized the names of two friends Lucas had while serving in the Army. Both had remained in the military and had stayed in touch with our brother.

  “Charlie has agreed to be my best man.”

  Charlie was our cousin, the son of our mother’s sister.

  “That’s wonderful.” The two were close in age and had been good friends nearly their entire lives.

  “We’ve thought about this a lot and we’ve decided we want to be married in Oceanside.”

  “Here?” This came as a huge surprise.

  “We’re being practical,” Lucas explained. “It isn’t like this is the most romantic spot in the world. It’s cheaper. Do you have any clue what a wedding costs in Seattle? I’m not talking about a fancy venue, either.”

  Both Harper and I shook our heads. Wedding costs weren’t exactly on our radar.

  “We want to put our money into a down payment on a house instead of blowing it on a huge wedding.”

  My brother had always been practical.

  “I’m sewing my own dress,” Chantelle said. “The design is simple and elegant. I can’t wait to show you the pattern. I’ll sew your bridesmaid dresses as well. We don’t want you to put a lot of money into an outfit you’re only likely to wear once.”

  I knew Chantelle was an accomplished seamstress and worked with a fashion designer. I couldn’t imagine her buying off the rack when anything she created herself would be stunning. “I couldn’t hope for any better bridesmaid dress.” It went without saying that our dresses would be beautiful as well.

  Giving their wedding some thought, I realized I could help, too. “I’ll bake the wedding cake,” I offered.

  The line went quiet.