A Walk Along the Beach

by Debbie Macomber

  He turned to look at me, his eyes pleading with mine. “Can we get past this, Willa? Are you able to put this behind us so we can move forward?”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked, my heart in my throat. “For us to move forward?”

  His shoulders rose as he straightened. “More than you will ever know.” Taking my hand in both of his, he raised it to his lips and kissed my knuckles, all the while holding my gaze with his own.

  Even now I wasn’t sure what he saw in me that had interested him. I didn’t mean to discount myself or my abilities, but the contrast between me and women like Nikki couldn’t have been more blatant. When I researched her name I saw that she was a cover model, so there was plenty of evidence. I’d never considered myself beautiful or fashionable. Sean had been with a woman who was both. If he was looking for different, then that was me.

  “You haven’t answered my question, Willa. Can we start again?”

  My heart was full, and I nodded.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. Taking hold of my neck, he drew me closer and kissed me and then braced his forehead against mine. “I can’t thank you enough for seeing me through all this.”

  “You’re pushing yourself too hard, working too many hours.”

  “I know. I’ll ease up.”

  “Promise?”

  He nodded. “Every day I feel more like myself.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I’ll recover faster now that I know you and I are okay. I’ve been worried about us having this conversation, afraid you were waiting until I was well enough to dump me.”

  His words shocked me. “I would never dump you…We might disagree from time to time, Sean. I’m not perfect, and while it might come as a shock, you aren’t, either.”

  He grinned and then grew serious. “There’s something you should know. I’m all in, Willa.”

  “What does that mean?” My lack of experience in romantic relationships made me unsure.

  “It means there’s no one else for me but you. If we plan to make something of this relationship, you should decide now if you’re as serious as I am.”

  This was daunting. “I…”

  “I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I’m not asking for anything more than the assurance you care about me.”

  “I do care.” That was never in doubt.

  “And if some other guy asks you out or makes a play for you, what would you say?”

  This seemed to be some form of test. “Well,” I said, considering my response, “I guess I’d need to explain that I had a boyfriend who’s all in and would object to me going out with someone else.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Depending on who it was, I’d probably add that my ‘all-in boyfriend’ was big and mean and didn’t take kindly to other men flirting with me.”

  “Even better,” Sean said and laughed.

  “Now that we’ve cleared the air, I need to say goodbye to your parents.”

  “You know they love you already.”

  “Are they all in, too?” I teased, remembering his mother’s less-than-subtle hints about grandchildren.

  “You better believe it.”

  Before I left, I hugged both Joanna and Patrick and reassured them I would keep a close eye on Sean. He walked me to my car, kissed me again, and stood with his hands in his pockets as I drove away. I watched his figure fade from my rearview mirror.

  Smiling, I realized I was in serious danger of falling in love with Sean. Serious, serious danger.

  Instead of driving back to our apartment, I headed in a different direction. It was time I checked in on my father.

  CHAPTER 15

  Willa

  I didn’t know Dad’s work schedule and took a chance he’d be home. The trailer park where he lived wasn’t in a bad neighborhood, but it wasn’t the best, either. Most of the yards were well maintained. Dad had a small patio with his space and had set out several potted plants. When she’d been alive our mother had maintained a large garden. It seemed our father had something of a green thumb himself. His tomato plants, heavy with ripe fruit, lined the small walkway leading up to the trailer.

  Standing on the porch step, I knocked on the door. I’d been to his home only a few times. He discouraged company. Before, when I’d stopped by, it’d always been the middle of the day and I’d warned him in advance that I was coming. I silently prayed he wouldn’t be upset at my unexpected visit and that he wasn’t drinking.

  “Who’s there?” he called from inside the trailer. His voice, as well as his words, lacked welcome.

  “It’s Willa.”

  “Willa.” Almost immediately the front door was thrown open and Dad stood there in a stained white T-shirt and jeans. He blinked as if he wasn’t sure it was really me.

  “Sorry to come this late. I should have phoned first.” My impulsive visit seemed all wrong now and I regretted it, especially seeing how uncomfortable he was.

  “Is it Harper?” he asked, worry sketched across his face. His eyes bored into mine and it seemed he braced himself for bad news.

  “No, Dad, everything is fine.”

  Relief washed over his features before he frowned. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

  “No, Dad. All’s well.”

  Stepping aside, he motioned for me to come into his home. Dad had never been particularly neat; the years hadn’t changed him. Dirty dishes lined the countertop and a couple of pans rested atop the stove. The furniture held discarded clothing and the top of the coffee table was obscured with old newspapers, unopened mail, and magazines. Our mother would cringe if she could see how unkempt he was.

  Dad cleared a spot for me on the sofa. “Sit. Make yourself at home.”

  Home.

  We’d lost so much more than our mother with her brain aneurysm. Within a few years we’d lost our house to foreclosure and been forced to find other lodging. The father we knew and loved became a shell of the man that he’d once been.

  In the years since Mom’s passing, we’d all drifted like feathers captured in the wind, floating in different directions. Dad floundered from one job to another. Lucas had joined the Army. Thankfully, Harper and I remained close and shared an apartment. The time would come when we, too, would find our own paths in life and we would go our separate ways.

  Dad rubbed a hand down his face. “Harper had her blood tested?”

  Nodding, I said, “I called, and left a voicemail. You never returned my call.”

  “You know how I hate to talk on the phone.”

  That wasn’t all he disliked. Apparently, listening to phone messages was also on his do-not-like list.

  “We drove into Seattle to the Medical Center and got the results later that same afternoon.” I relaxed against the sofa. “Everything looks good.”

  “Glad to hear it.” His weak smile confirmed his words.

  He wasn’t the only one who was relieved. Dad hadn’t always been like this, detached and emotionally distant from his children. True enough, it was bad after we lost Mom, but the bigger separation came when Harper had been diagnosed. The news was more than he could handle. Throughout the ordeal, Dad had been to the hospital only once or twice. It was as if the thought of losing first his wife and then his youngest child had crippled him. That was when the worst of the drinking had started.

  The silence that followed was awkward, and, needing to fill it, I said, “While we were in Seattle, we had lunch with Chantelle.”

  “Ah yes, Lucas’s girl.”

  “Fiancée,” I corrected with overstated enthusiasm. “The wedding plans are in full swing. Harper and I are to be her bridesmaids.”

  Dad smiled and I could see that news lifted his spirits.

  “Chantelle is designing the bridesmaids’ dresses herself. She’s really talented; they’re going to
be beautiful.”

  “Where’s Harper now?”

  “She’s with a group of friends. That girl has more energy than ten teenage boys. You know she has it in her head to climb Mount Rainier, don’t you?”

  Dad frowned, clearly disapproving. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Tell Harper that.” I’d tried without success. Even Lucas had mentioned he felt it might be too much for her, health-wise. Not that our concerns did any good. My sister had a mind of her own.

  “Is she dating anyone special?” he asked.

  “No. She was out last weekend with a guy named Travis, and then this morning she said something about meeting John for the conditioning session.”

  “Travis? John? Is that girl ever going to settle down?”

  “She’ll find the right one when she’s ready,” I assured him, just as I’d found the right one for me.

  Hold on a minute. Where did that thought come from?

  My relationship with Sean was in the infancy stage. I didn’t know why, out of the blue, these thoughts were coming into my head. Then I did. When he’d been in Bolivia, I’d felt like a part of me was missing. I’d broken my arm as a freshman in high school and had to keep it in a sling. Handling life with one arm had been nerve-racking and frustrating, especially since I had taken over all the tasks that Mom had once done. Many of the same feelings I’d had that month were akin to how I felt when Sean had been out of the country.

  When he’d returned seriously ill, I found it impossible to leave his side until his parents arrived. He’d asked me, just an hour or so earlier, if I was all in with this relationship. I hadn’t answered him. I couldn’t. Not because I wasn’t sure. The truth was I was all in and that frightened me. It was too soon.

  Conversations with my father were always short and to the point. After a few minutes he stood as if to announce it was time for me to go. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I would have been insulted by the way he hustled me out the door.

  “It was good to see you, Dad.”

  “You too, Willa.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and pecked my cheek.

  Not until I was at the car did I realize that of the three of us kids, he’d asked only about Harper. It was expected; I didn’t mind. Even before she developed cancer, Harper had been his favorite. I thanked God she’d survived, because I didn’t know what would have happened to our father if she hadn’t.

  * * *

  —

  When I arrived back at our apartment, Harper was spread out on the sofa with Snowball asleep on her tummy. She seemed completely wrung out. Her face was red from exertion and her clothes clung to her body.

  “Hey,” she said, turning her head to look at me when I entered.

  “Hey, back at you.” I resisted the urge to mention how dreadful she looked.

  “You’re late tonight. Sean hasn’t had a relapse, has he?”

  I set my purse aside and walked into the kitchen and got a bottle of water. “Sean’s recovering more every day. His mother is concerned that he’s pushing himself too hard and I agree with her. I decided to stop off and see Dad after I left.”

  “How is he?”

  “About the same.” Same ol’, same ol’. “And before you ask, I didn’t see any evidence that he was drinking.”

  “That’s good,” she said with a sigh. “How long are Sean’s folks staying?”

  “They leave in the morning.”

  Sitting on the chair angled next to the sofa, I looked at Harper. Her face remained flushed. In all the times she’d been to these conditioning sessions I had never seen her take to the sofa afterward. I broached the subject carefully. “How was tonight’s workout?”

  “Brutal.”

  Unable to resist, I felt I had to ask. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “Of course,” she replied flippantly, as if it was a ridiculous question.

  Her attitude alarmed me. “Harper, climbing Mount Rainier isn’t a matter of life and death. If you don’t make it this time, there’s always next year. You don’t need to kill yourself to make a point. We all know how mentally tough you are. You don’t have anything to prove.” I resisted asking her if John had suggested the same thing. As her climbing partner and a physician, he might well have shared my concerns.

  Harper laughed as if she found my warning amusing. “I didn’t come this far to back out now. A few of us are doing a practice climb this weekend. That will be the real test to see if we have what it takes.”

  “Am I hearing a note of doubt in your voice?” I asked. From the first moment she’d announced this summer challenge, Harper had been gung-ho. She was singing “Climb Every Mountain,” the song from The Sound of Music, bragging to all who would listen about how she was a mountain climber. She’d been the one to talk a few of her friends into joining her. Not once in all these weeks had her confidence wavered. Although her words said otherwise, I sensed her hesitation.

  “Promise me, after this weekend’s practice, that if you feel it’s too much you’ll bow out.”

  “Nope. Not making that promise.”

  “Harper!”

  “I’m all in.”

  Twice this evening I’d heard someone make that claim. I bit down on my tongue to keep from arguing. Anything more I said to talk reason would only cause her to stiffen her pride.

  “It’s summit or plummet.”

  “What?” I cried, thinking of the news coverage from last summer when a climber had fallen into a crevasse. Despite repeated attempts, the body had never been recovered.

  “Don’t even think that,” I warned. It was bad enough that she’d voiced it.

  “Chill, Willa,” Harper said, laughing. Holding on to Snowball, she swiveled her legs out and sat upright.

  When it came to my sister’s welfare, “chilling” was a problem. My natural inclination was to worry about her. But I realized now that, having survived cancer, Harper wanted to live life to the fullest.

  “Oh, before I forget, Chantelle sent a text,” she said as she set Snowball down on the floor. “She wants to do a fitting for our dresses.”

  “Great. When?”

  “This weekend. It should be on your phone, too.”

  I collected my purse to retrieve my phone. I hadn’t looked at it in several hours. Sure enough, there was a text from my soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Saturday at noon.” The note said Lucas would be coming with her. I hesitated. My weekend was already busy.

  “I can’t be here.”

  “Did you let her know? We’ll need to find another date.”

  “No way,” Harper protested. “We’re close enough to the same size. If the dress fits you it’ll fit me. I don’t want to hold up Chantelle.”

  I didn’t feel good about trying on Harper’s dress, especially since the design was different from my own, shorter; besides, Harper had bigger boobs than I did. If it didn’t fit her at the wedding, I’d feel dreadful.

  She must have read the hesitation in my eyes because she braced her hands against her hips and sighed heavily, as if I was being unreasonable. “Come on, Willa. You can do this one small thing, can’t you?”

  “Let me think about it.” The timing wasn’t great. Friday night was the Relay for Life event. Both Harper and I were deeply involved in that. Then on Saturday, Harper intended to do this practice climb. Another weekend would work much better for us both. I was surprised Harper hadn’t suggested that.

  With my phone in my hand, I sent Chantelle a text. Need to reschedule. Is that a problem?

  No more than five minutes later her reply came. Nope. Connect later.

  There. One simple note and it was all fixed. I told Harper, who frowned at me and headed into her bedroom. “I wish you’d talked to me first. You’re making a big deal over nothing. I ask you to do one small thing and you bl
ow it out of proportion, change everyone’s plans. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a control freak?”

  Stunned, I stood with my phone in my hand, my mouth open. I didn’t know what had come over my sister. We rarely argued, especially over something this petty.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

  Whipping around, Harper glared at me with eyes that would cut through a steel rod. “Do you know how often you ask me that question? Would. You. Stop,” she all but shouted. She went into her bedroom and slammed the door.

  At the sound of the door, Snowball leaped several inches off the ground and hid underneath the sofa.

  I stood like a marble statue for several moments, unable to believe my sister had come unglued over something this trivial. I’d never thought of myself as a control freak. True, I worried about her health, but with good reason. My sister had nearly died. Even now I wondered if she realized how close to death she’d come.

  Opening her bedroom door, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Her mouth was set in a thin line, and her eyes narrowed. “I’m moving out.”

  “Moving out?” I repeated, too stunned to say anything more.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for some time now. Leesa and I want to get an apartment together.”

  My throat constricted and I swallowed hard. This had come out of the blue. “But…why?” We’d had differences of opinion before, but we’d always made up quickly. “I’m sorry if I—”

  “It isn’t you,” she said, without a lot of conviction. “I need to find an apartment that allows pets. You’re right. It won’t take long for Snowball to become an adult cat, and we won’t be able to hide her. Why risk getting evicted?”

  “We can move,” I said, feeling desperate now, unable to believe Harper had gotten this angry over something minor.

  “Not we. Me. This apartment suits you perfectly. It’s close to the shop. You’re making enough to be able to afford the rent on your own now. If you’re worried about it, then get another roommate.”

  I recognized the look in her eyes. Nothing I said would make a difference; her mind was made up. It hurt that my sister no longer wanted to live with me. Tears clouded my eyes and I blinked furiously.