Sandover Beach Memories

by Emma St Clair

  “Well, they finally put in radar,” Ethel said, landing on an utterly safe topic. Jenna smiled. She realized when she moved away that most people called it a speed trap, not radar. Must be an On Island thing. “Cops are sitting out there most days of the week, giving out tickets like candy.”

  Jenna relaxed into the chair, cradling the coffee cup in her hands. “It’s about time. Have they gotten Mr. Andrews yet?”

  Mr. Andrews lived a few houses down and drove an old boat of a car. He did not acknowledge driving laws. He consistently blew through the stop sign at the end of their street, barreling out onto the busier road that went out to the causeway. For years they had waited to hear the inevitable sound of a crash. So far, God—or luck—had been on his side.

  “They finally put him in a home.” Ethel’s lips turned down.

  This news somehow made Jenna feel deflated. “Really? I thought he’d live there forever.”

  “We did too. New couple lives there now. Only one child. Redid the kitchen and added onto the back. Can you imagine? Needing more space than that with just one child?” She shook her head and made a tsk sound.

  “I guess we should all just be glad he didn’t kill anyone. I was sure he’d go down in a blaze of fiery glory.”

  “He’d probably prefer that to where he is now,” Ethel said. “Those greedy children of his. They just wanted to sell the house.”

  “The market’s still hot I take it?”

  “Oh, yes,” Ethel said. “With all these Off Islanders buying up the land, razing homes that have been here for years, and putting up their oversized homes. It’s disgusting. Our boys are always asking us when we’re moving out. They try to be coy, but I’m no dummy. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  That was awfully close to talking about Steve. Jenna’s stomach tightened. Was he really trying to push his parents out of their home? Bob had dementia, but not to a degree that he was harmful to himself or others. At least, not that she knew of. It was a lot for Ethel to deal with on her own. Maybe Steve and Jeff had their best interests in mind. Ethel sipped her coffee, looking at Jenna over the rim of the china cup.

  “I just don’t know.”

  “How are things with Mark? I couldn’t help but notice your ring was gone. Temporary or for good? Your mother hadn’t said anything.”

  Jenna rubbed her ring finger, which still felt naked with nothing on it. “I hadn’t told her yet. It’s over. For good,” Jenna said. “And it definitely is good.”

  “I’m glad. I never did like him.” Ethel slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. “Sorry.”

  Jenna laughed so hard that she had to set down her coffee on the table, so it wouldn’t spill. “You could have warned me beforehand. Saved me some years.”

  Ethel smiled, her lips still sporting the coral color she always wore. “Would you really have listened?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sometimes you just have to learn for yourself. Even if it’s the hard way.”

  Though Ethel never treated Jenna differently after the breakup, she had to wonder how Steve’s mother felt about it, and about her. Moms took their kids’ sides. Always. But for years, she and Ethel sat in these same chairs and talked as though nothing had changed between them. Was it because Ethel knew it wasn’t Jenna’s choice to break up? If she had been the one to dump Steve, would things be different?

  Had enough years passed that they could break the rule and talk about Steve? She did wonder how he was doing. As much as he hurt her, dumping her for the prettier, more popular, much more perfect Anna, Jenna still had a sense of nostalgia. Well, mixed in with the feeling of betrayal. That’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend. You might lose them, but you keep the first memories you had of them, before things went bad.

  “So, how…are the boys?”

  Ethel set down her cup and threw her hands in the air. “You know: boys. Never call, never come by. They’re busy with their families, but still. I hardly see my grandchildren. How are things over at the house?”

  It took Jenna a moment to recover from the comment about grandchildren. She couldn’t imagine why Steve and his older brother Jeff wouldn’t be more involved with their parents. It seemed so cruel, though Ethel passed it off like they were just forgetful. She wanted to say something more about this, but Ethel’s subject change was clear code: Stick to the plan. Keep to the rules. No talk of Steve.

  “It’s really … tough. I’m going to take one room at a time, starting with the things that matter the least. But the smallest things sometimes, they get me.”

  Ethel patted her knee. “I’m so very sorry. I know I’ve said that. But I’ll keep saying it. Are you doing okay? Not with the house, but with her?”

  Jenna swallowed and blinked back her tears. She couldn’t speak, a sob hitching in her throat, so she shrugged instead.

  Ethel looked out the front picture window and Jenna was thankful for the privacy this look away gave her. She wiped her eyes and swallowed. “I don’t know what I can do but let me know if I can help. Anything at all. Okay?”

  “Thank you. It’s really nice to know that you’re here.” Jenna squeezed Ethel’s shoulder and stood. “I need to head back.”

  As they walked out, Jenna ducked into the TV room to say goodbye to Bob.

  “Hello there, Jenna!” he boomed. “Stocks are on the rise!”

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Don’t let me catch you breaking curfew again,” he said, pointing a stern finger at her. “I’ll have to have a conversation with your father.”

  “Yes, dear,” Ethel said, giving Jenna a nudge toward the door. “She’ll work on that. Thank you.”

  On the porch, Ethel grabbed her in a hug that felt tight and desperate. Jenna’s eyes grew hot with tears. She missed her mother. Jenna gave Ethel another squeeze, then pulled back and wiped her eyes. Ethel and her mother had been close friends, maybe best friends. It was too easy to think about what loss meant to you and forget how much it impacted other people.

  “Thank you,” Jenna said, touching Ethel on the arm. “For watching over the house, for just…everything.”

  Ethel’s eyes brimmed, and she pressed her lips together tightly. Jenna walked away before Ethel could see her own tears, back to her mother’s house where more memories waited to weigh her down.

  Chapter Four

  “Is it weird that your love interest used to be my babysitter?” Beau grinned at Jackson.

  Jimmy started laughing so hard that the other patrons in the diner glanced over at their table. They usually attracted a lot of attention anyway: two firemen and a cop in uniform. And everyone knew Jackson. As much as he’d prefer to slide under the radar, he couldn’t do that when he owned half the island and kept the favorite local grocery store in business. He had just finished telling the guys about his disastrous run-in with Jenna. They already knew about her as the one Jackson let get away.

  Jackson pointed his fork at Beau, who was still smiling. Even Cash, normally the most serious and reserved of the group, was chuckling. “It would only be weird if she had been my babysitter. But now I feel very aware of my age, so thanks for that. My age and my maturity, I should say. Does this make me your babysitter?”

  “You couldn’t handle us.” Jimmy wiped tears from his eyes with a napkin.

  “Clearly.” Jackson took another bite of eggs as the waitress came back to refill their coffee.

  “Everything okay over here, boys?” Eileen winked at Cash as she brushed back her graying brown hair. He sat up straighter and looked down at the table as his neck grew red. He tugged on the neck of his uniform. Out of the four guys at the table, it was hilarious that Eileen chose the least friendly one to flirt with.

  “Speaking of older women …” Jimmy said, wiggling his eyebrows as Eileen walked back to the counter. Cash glared and Jimmy held up his hands. “For real, though. My first love was older. She was my big sister’s best friend. Talk about torture. For years
she practically lived at my house. But she always saw me like a little brother. That’s actually why I’m here. I moved away from Richmond because I couldn’t stand to see her all the time.”

  “First love? That implies there has been a second. Does that mean you love Amber?” Beau asked.

  Jimmy made a face. “Dude. It’s been a few weeks. She’s a great girl but we’re just dating.”

  “And you’re still in love with Emily.” Jackson nudged his shoulder further into Jimmy’s. “I recognize the signs.”

  Jimmy swivelled as much as he could in the seat to look at Jackson. The four of them hardly fit into this booth. None of them were small guys. “I’m not saying I’m still in love with her. But I will say that if she walked through that door right now and said she was interested, I’d jump. Never going to happen, though. She made it very clear how she felt the last time I saw her. If we’re all going to talk about our feelings, when are you finally going to get up the nerve to ask Mercer out?”

  Beau shrugged. “The time isn’t right.”

  “You’ve been saying that for months,” Jackson said. “I’m pretty sure all the girl does is work at my store and go home. When will the time be right?”

  Cash took a sip of coffee and looked between Jimmy and Jackson. “Isn’t this Bible and Breakfast? This is starting to sound like a middle school girls’ sleepover. Enough about your pathetic love lives.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes, ready to snap back, but Beau spoke up first, in a much nicer tone of voice than he would have used. “Fellowship is part of these breakfasts. That includes sharing what’s going on with us. Right now, Jackson’s dealing with a woman he has feelings for, but also the feelings associated with his past. If we can’t talk about that here, when can we?”

  Cash nodded as he pulled out his wallet and threw down a ten-dollar bill. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ve got to get going anyway.”

  Beau stood from the booth to let Cash out. Without another word, Cash strode across the diner. Eileen called out a goodbye, but he simply raised a hand as he pushed through the doors.

  “Is he ever going to get less prickly? I mean, come on.” Jimmy shook his head as Beau settled back in the booth.

  “Give him a break,” Beau said. “The three of us have been friends for a few years now. He’s new to us and still holding a lot of things close to the vest. I hope he’ll open up, but even if he does, he’s just a more serious guy.”

  “With constant PMS.” Jimmy kept going even though Beau opened his mouth, probably to defend Cash again. “Anyway, back to you, Jax. What can we do to help facilitate project Win-Jenna-Over?”

  “Keep your voice down, first of all. I know you didn’t grow up here, but you know how much of a small town this is. Bunch of gossips. And they all know her. That said, I don’t think it’s a project. More like a dead end.”

  “You had one bad run-in with her.”

  “Two. She practically sprinted away when I waved to her the other night from my house.”

  “Maybe she didn’t recognize you,” Beau said. “I mean, it was dark, right?”

  “Maybe. Either way, she’s not thrilled to see me. I’m not going to go out of my way to seek her out. She may not even be here long. I think that avoidance is my best option.”

  “You wanted to apologize to her, though, right? About her sister?” Beau had a way of poking right into his business in a way that didn’t feel intrusive. He didn’t let things go, but had a way of pushing gently. More than once, Jackson had the thought that Beau could be a pastor as well as he could be a firefighter.

  “I don’t know that she would believe or accept an apology.”

  “Maybe not, but that’s on her. Her sister did. That should give you hope. Anyway, we’ve got to get to the station too. Don’t give up. You don’t know if she’s here to stay or if she’ll forgive you. But you’ll always regret it if you don’t try.”

  Jackson stood to let Jimmy out. The three of them dropped cash on the table. They always overpaid, and Jackson usually left an extra ten-dollar tip on top of that.

  Jimmy slapped Jackson on the back as they walked out to the parking lot. The fire station’s red SUV was parked next to his Jeep. “You do what you feel like you need to do. But if I had the chance to try again with Emily, even after everything that went down, I’d do it. That’s the thing about love: sometimes it makes you foolish. But if you aren’t willing to put yourself out there, maybe it’s not love.”

  Jackson was still thinking about those words as he went home for a run on the beach. Exercise after eating wasn’t the best idea, but he felt like punishing himself today. The cool air battled with the heat from the morning sun. Another few months and running would be unbearable in the sun. For now, it was the push he needed, other than the eggs and toast sloshing around with the coffee in his belly.

  A mile from his house, Jackson slowed to a walk. He moved to the shoreline, where the sand sank a little under his bare feet and the occasional wave rolled over him, sending icy chills up his legs. Everything about the beach felt like home to Jackson. Did Jenna miss this when she left Sandover?

  He could see her as she stood the other night on the crosswalk, looking out over the ocean. Maybe it called to her the same way it did to him. He couldn’t understand how anyone left Sandover.

  Actually—he could. Often, he wished that he could escape the scrutiny of the On Islanders and the feeling of living inside of a glass bubble, or one of those snow globes they sold at the tacky tourist beach shops. That he got. But moving away from the powerful sounds of the ocean and the smell of salt on the air? The thought made him feel claustrophobic. Spending four years at Davidson College a few hours inland had him itching to get back home. He never planned to leave again.

  Did Jenna feel the same pull? He recognized something in the way she stood there the other night, staring at the moonlight on the waves. After college, though, she had rarely come home, not even for their ten-year reunion. He knew she had gotten married by then, but still kept watching the door, hoping to see her walk through. Now that he knew she was on Sandover, he’d be looking for her everywhere. He had avoided Bohn’s that morning, just in case she came back in, and had found himself turning every time the diner doors had opened while he was with the guys. Even now, the woman up ahead on the beach looking for shells reminded him of Jenna.

  Jackson sighed. Beau was right. Until he apologized, he would be looking for her everywhere. Maybe that wouldn’t change after he said his piece, but he could hope.

  As he neared the woman, he slowed. She didn’t remind him of Jenna; it was Jenna.

  Her head was bent as she studied the line of shells left on the beach after the high tide moved out. Every few feet she bent to examine a shell. Some she dropped back on the sand and some went into a small plastic grocery sack with the Bohn’s logo on it. She had on dark jeans that were wet at the bottom, despite being rolled up almost to her knees. Jackson smiled. She had probably put her feet in and gotten hit with a rogue wave.

  His heart felt wild in his chest. He wanted so badly to have things be different between them. Not just forgiveness, but something far beyond that. Jackson longed to be able to walk up to her and throw a casual arm around her waist. He wanted to spin her into his arms, to hear her laughter and feel the brush of her hair on his face as he kissed her. He wanted her to look at him with something other than anger, distrust, and dislike.

  Jenna chose that moment to turn. She froze, seeing Jackson.

  “Hey, Jenna.” He closed the distance between them before she could do something like turn and walk away.

  “Jackson. You seem to be everywhere these days.”

  Her gaze dropped to Jackson’s bare chest and then snapped back up. He hadn’t worn a shirt for his run. Maybe it was shallow, but at this point with her, his physical appearance was about the only thing he had going for him. Her cheeks flushed and she was looking anywhere but his torso.

  He grinned, feeling a small victory. “Small island.
You know how it is, right?”

  “I do, actually. That’s one reason I left.”

  Her voice was curt, but Jackson still had Beau and Jimmy’s words knocking around in his head. Maybe it was foolish to push, but where had his pride ever gotten him? She still stood talking to him, when she could have already walked away.

  “You miss it, though. The beach at least, if not the people.” He smiled and was rewarded with a smile that actually looked genuine.

  “I do miss the beach. The people …” She met his gaze, eyes looking a little softer. She smiled again. “The jury is still out. Some of them I’m glad to see.”

  And some, like Jackson, she wasn’t. Her meaning was obvious as she looked down at the scattered shells. Still—her voice had a hint of teasing to it. And she hadn’t stormed off yet. Progress.

  “Mind if I walk with you?”

  She snorted, eyes still on the sand. “You really want to look for shells with me, Jackson?”

  “If you can stand my company. Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?”

  She was quiet for a moment, then bent to pick up a few shells. He stepped closer when she stood and held out her palm. Her eyes flicked briefly to his and Jackson saw a vulnerability that made his heart swell.

  “These are Augers and Shark Eyes. I called them unicorn horns and snail shells as a kid.”

  Jackson could see that. The first was longer and twisted just like a horn. The second was a smooth, swirled shell with a dark dot in the center. “Did a snail actually live in here?” He touched the second shell, sucking in a breath as his fingers brushed her palm.

  She stiffened slightly but didn’t move away.

  “Yep. Moon Snails. They actually feed on other mollusks—and sometimes each other—so when you see a tiny hole like this one—” She pointed to a hole smaller than the dot of a pencil. “—that’s where another snail or mollusk drilled in and ate it.”