Sandover Beach Memories

by Emma St Clair

  “This?” He traced over it with a fingertip. His nails were clipped short and his hands looked rough and calloused. “I run charters now. Mostly day trips, fishing for tourists. Sometimes sunset cruises. You know, romantic dates for couples.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Jenna felt herself start to blush. “It was just one of those timing things. The boat pitched as I was getting something out of the cooler. Busted it on the boat. Five stitches. Sexy, right?”

  It was. She wished that she didn’t think so. But thinking that did nothing to ease the niggling sense of worry in the back of her mind about him. Jenna gave him a fierce stare. “The question is: how does Anna feel about it?”

  Steve sighed and took another drink of wine. He drank in long swallows, like it was water. “I’m not sure how Anna feels about anything anymore.” When he was done, he set the cup on the counter and waved his ring-less left hand at her.

  So, they weren’t together. There was still a tan line from where it had been. Recent breakup, maybe? Especially since his mother still had a framed picture of them in her house.

  “You’ve changed,” Steve said.

  Let’s hope so. Steve’s words had Jenna feeling suddenly self-conscious. She looked down at her shoes. Converse, just like she wore in middle school. They kept coming back in style and she never stopped liking them, so bought a new pair a few months ago. These were turquoise, not bright pink like the ones she had when she was thirteen.

  “I’m not sure how you can tell that after five minutes, but okay. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  “Nothing needed fixing. But I don’t mind Jenna 2.0 either.”

  He smiled, and Jenna felt a rush of memories moving like a slideshow playing on high speed through her mind, warming her. She saw that same smile when they were exploring the wildlife refuge behind their houses and came across a baby rabbit. She saw his eyes crinkle up when they carved their initials into the beech tree out back. He had smiled that way before he brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her.

  She saw that same smile, directed toward Anna as they walked down the hallway together, holding hands.

  That image sobered her, stealing the warmth that had started to form in her chest as she’d thought about the good times. Maybe he and Anna weren’t together now. But that didn’t erase what he had done to Jenna or all the history in-between. She had given Jackson such a hard time about something he had done to her sister. Why was it so much easier to want to let Steve get a pass for how he had hurt her? And why did she suddenly wish it was Jackson, not Steve, across the kitchen from her?

  Steve turned to the counter behind him to pour more wine and noticed the bag from Jackson. “You forgot to unload one. What’s this?” He pulled out her sandals.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Jenna tossed them toward the back door leading out to the deck. Steve continued to pull things out of the bag: a bottle of wine, a crusty loaf of bread, a half-wheel of Brie, a bar of expensive dark chocolate with sea salt. Wow. Jackson had really gone all out. The realization sent guilt flooding through her, along with a feeling of appreciation. Now she owed him an apology and a thank-you.

  “Jackson Wells?” His voice dripped with disdain. He held a note in his hand and began to read it out loud in a mocking voice. “Dear Jenna, I wanted to say again how sorry I am—”

  Jenna snatched the note from him, seeing Jackson’s name embossed at the top. “Hey. Stop.”

  His eyes looked heated now and his fingers gripped the counter behind him. “Why is Jackson Wells writing you notes? You’re not dating him, are you? I knew he was fast, but … ”

  Hot anger burned in her throat. “No. Not that it’s your business. I just left my shoes—it’s a long story. But nothing is happening between me and Jackson Wells. Trust me.” Except that didn’t exactly feel true now that she’d said the words.

  He stared hard at her face, like he could read the truth there. Why did she feel like she had betrayed Jackson somehow?

  “You know I hate that guy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What are we, still sixteen? As far as I remember, the feeling was mutual. I never knew why, though.”

  She remembered the time Steve came to school sporting a black eye that supposedly came from Jackson. It was senior year, so she and Steve weren’t together, and soon after the rumors about Rachel. She never got the full story, but always wondered what brought them to blows. They had always seemed to hate each other from a distance.

  “No one particular reason. That guy was—and is—a jerk. You should stay away from him. Far away.”

  “I just ran into him at Bohn’s. Not a big deal.”

  Also, not your business who I hang out with. For whatever reason, Jenna had no problem speaking her mind to Jackson, but here with Steve, she kept holding back. Why was that? Not for the first time, guilt for all the rude things she’d said to Jackson washed over her.

  “Then why is he writing you notes and giving you back your shoes? You should shop at Harris Teeter. I do. Just to avoid running into his pompous, lying face.”

  “Wow. Seriously, what happened with the two of you? Was it because you got in a fight that one time? Are you still holding onto stuff that happened in high school?”

  “Are you?” His question felt pointed and invasive and like it was about something wholly different than their current conversation. He stared at her with hooded eyes, an intense expression on her face.

  “No. I’ve moved on.”

  Steve took another long drink of wine. When he set down the cup, his expression had changed. The edge was gone and the familiar smile was back. “Are you going to sell the house?”

  “Probably. I can keep it if I want, but I don’t know if I could live here.”

  “Will you stay On Island?”

  “Another question I can’t answer. Yet. I thought I’d get through packing things up first and see how I feel. I’m kind of … between things right now. What I mean is that I can stay or I can go. I’m not really tied to a place.”

  Because my husband was a cheater and my marriage is over and I have nowhere to live and no job. Steve had once known her so well. Could he still read the things in her face that she left unspoken? She hoped not.

  “You know, our initials are still out on the tree out there. If you sell the house, the new owners will get that as a little bonus.” He grinned.

  Jenna took a sip of coffee. “I’ll put that in the listing as a selling point.”

  “You should. It really brings up the value of the place. The neighbors aren’t so bad either. Maybe you should hold onto it. Good memories.” He watched her over the lip of the cup as he took another drink.

  “Some were. Some … not so much.’

  Steve set down his cup. His smile disappeared, and his eyes burned. “Jenna, there’s something I need to say to you. I should have said it a long time ago.”

  Not another confession about the past. Or an apology. Jenna felt suddenly like she had been thrust into A Christmas Carol. Except there was only the Ghost of Christmas past, haunting her present and keeping her from the future.

  Jenna’s phone began to ring on the counter, startling them both as it buzzed against a cutting board. It was Rachel. “I’ve got to take this.”

  She didn’t actually, but needed Steve out of her house before he said whatever he was going to say. Jackson’s apology was all she could take for the moment. And despite her mixed feelings towards Jackson, Steve didn’t give her mixed feelings. They were all sour, getting more so by the minute. She wanted him to leave. He may have been her oldest friend and her first love, but their history needed to stay firmly in the past.

  “I’ll show myself out.” Steve brushed her shoulder with his hand as he walked back by, then leaned in, his whisper sending a shiver down her back. At one time, it would have been pleasant. Tonight, though, it felt like some kind of warning. She clutched the still-ringing phone in her hand. “Keep the wine. I’ll be back. Probably when you least expect it. Good to se
e you, Jenns.”

  Again with her nickname. Jenna held the phone up to her ear, though she had no intention of answering it and Steve had already gone, the sound of the front door closing behind him giving her a sense of relief. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.

  Jenna realized that she had crumpled Jackson’s note in her shaking hand. She crossed the room and smoothed it out on the counter next to the Brie and the other things Steve had pulled out of the bag.

  * * *

  Dear Jenna,

  I wanted to say again how sorry I am about Rachel. I was a jerk in high school and for a long time after. It’s hard for me to think about the guy I used to be. If you gave me a chance now, I think you’d see that I’m someone quite different. I’m trying. Here are a few things I thought you might enjoy.

  -Jax

  PS- I don’t think I said it before, but I’m so sorry about your mom. She was an amazing woman and she reminded me so much of you.

  * * *

  Jenna read the note. Then she read it again. One more time, with fat tears obscuring her vision.

  She didn’t know what part to focus on. If she gave him a chance to … what? Be a friend? Something more? He was trying … to do what? Be a better man? A different man? Jenna’s mother was an amazing woman … and Jenna reminded him of her? That one brought on the tears. And then he had signed it Jax. A nickname. Not one she’d ever heard anyone use for him in high school. He had always been Jackson. Or Jackson Wells—the kind of guy where people almost always used both of his names.

  She was thankful that she had pulled the note away from Steve before he read the whole thing. This wasn’t a casual note from a guy she happened to run into. She didn’t know exactly what this was, but it felt more like an invitation or an open door.

  Her stomach growling reminded her that she still hadn’t eaten. Jenna opened the package of Brie and spread it over a slice of the crusty bread. Delicious and perfect. Thank you, Jackson. If she’d had his number, she would have been tempted to text him.

  She had expected that it would be difficult to come back, both in terms of packing up the house and running into old acquaintances. But Jenna had been completely unprepared for the emotional upheaval that Jackson Wells was causing. Add Steve’s visit to the mix and her life had become something of an afternoon soap opera. Or maybe it had just reverted to high school drama.

  Which was exactly the reason why she needed to get everything done in the house: so that she could put it on the market and get Off Island as soon as humanly possible. She didn’t want to live stuck in a loop of the past. It was time to move on. But when she woke up, still clutching Jackson’s note in her hand, Jenna realized that this might be even harder than she had thought.

  Chapter Eight

  “Rach!”

  For what felt like the fiftieth time in the past few days, Jenna was crying as she ran out onto the front porch. Rachel darted through the rain, holding her purse over her head like it would do something to block the deluge. Her light brown hair was soaked by the time she reached Jenna. They embraced on the edge of the porch, ignoring the rain until thunder crashed and made them jump. Rachel screamed. Jenna was laughing as they ran into the house.

  Rachel hugged her once more. “So good to see you. It’s been too long.”

  “It’s been like a month. But you’re right. We need to do a better job of seeing each other. I need to come to Burlington more. It’s easier than you trying to cart the girls around.”

  “Whatever. I can do it. We’ve got a DVD player in the car. I can drive wherever. I just need to know where that wherever is. Or, you could always move to Burlington.” Rachel waved a hand and Jenna noticed the flash of a ring on her right hand.

  Jenna grabbed Rachel’s hand and looked at the ring, a big blue gemstone. “Holy bling, Batman. Is that a sapphire?”

  Rachel pulled away self-consciously. “Brady’s having a good year. It’s nothing.”

  Jenna scoffed. “It’s okay to be happy and married and have money, Rach. Don’t make it weird. That ring is gorgeous.”

  It had been hard to have a younger sister like Rachel. Jenna wasn’t jealous, exactly, but it hadn’t always been easy to watch the way Rachel sailed through boyfriends and college and marriage and kids. Her life seemed like a direct contrast, revealing what Jenna lacked. Not that Jenna was a total wallflower or that it was all easy for Rachel—Jenna got a front-row seat to her sister’s heartbreaks and the struggles. But somehow Rachel always floated back up to the top. She was buoyant, while Jenna kept sinking.

  Thinking about it like that was depressing. Jenna learned years ago that she needed to be happy for her sister and celebrate with her. That way jealousy and bitterness didn’t rise up to choke her.

  Rachel held her hand out, looking down appreciatively. “Okay, fine. It is gorgeous, isn’t it? I love it more than you should love a thing. Brady is amazing.”

  “He is a great guy. I love that he’s babysitting the girls so you could come.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Don’t call it babysitting. They’re his kids. He’s being a dad. A solo dad. But yeah, he’s great. A lot of my mom friends have husbands that don’t do anything with their kids. Like, anything. I simply don’t get that.” Rachel stopped, her eyes wide. She grabbed Jenna’s arm. “Hang on—shh! Shh!”

  Jenna froze, hearing only the distant rumbling of thunder as the storm receded. “What?”

  Rachel threw her head back and laughed. “Nothing! That’s just it! That’s the sound of no children whatsoever calling ‘Mommy Mommy Mommy!’ You know I love them. I do. But I needed the break. I want to enjoy every second of this.” She made a face.

  “Totally understand.” Jenna forced out a laugh. She did know that Rachel loved her kids. Through their phone calls and time together, Jenna also knew that they were exhausting. Rachel had the right to complain about being exhausted or to enjoy time away. Still, it stung a tiny bit thinking about the fact that Jenna might never have kids of her own.

  “Okay, so packing up Mom’s stuff isn’t the best. But we can make the best of it together. Right? Sister bonding! You’ve done a great job so far. It’s practically empty.”

  “Hardly. It seems like I do one thing and then five more things pop up that I need to do. I feel like I’m playing whack-a-mole, but with stuff. How was the drive?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Remind me never to drive out on a Friday. It’s not even tourist season and the line at the toll booth was ridiculous. Did I hear they’re getting rid of that thing?”

  “You know how it is. I heard they’re voting on it. But City Council is never going to pass something getting rid of the toll booth. The thing is an institution. And it’s really the last thing standing between Sandover becoming like the rest of the Outer Banks—just enough inconvenience to keep some people away.”

  “They need to pick. Either Sandover is going to become a tourist destination or not. No more of this halfway business.”

  “It’s more than halfway. I mean, other than the fact that we have more of a year-round population of On Islanders, we’ve become a vacation spot. It will help us get more for the house, apparently.”

  “Does that mean you’ve called a real estate agent?”

  “I did, but I hated her. She knew the neighborhood and told me over the phone without even seeing the house that it was probably a teardown. Worth a lot for the property and the fact that it backs up to the refuge, but the house wouldn’t stay.”

  “It probably is, though, right? You said that yourself.”

  “Yeah.” Jenna shrugged. “It’s different somehow when someone else says it.”

  “Do you want to stay? You know we don’t have to sell. Or do you want to be the agent? I know you said you didn’t want to represent it, but you could. It’s whatever you want.”

  Rachel’s voice was intentionally even. This was not their first discussion over the past few months about the fate of the house. Mostly they went in circles about it, ending with Ra
chel telling Jenna she had to decide.

  “I can’t stay. And if I can’t handle an agent talking about it, no way could I show it and listen to people’s feedback. Yuck.”

  “Leave it to me, then. I’ll call in the morning. I want to go to the beach in the afternoon. The storm is apparently bringing back the warm weather, thankfully. I brought my bathing suit. I need the sand and sun.”

  “Even if it warms up, it’s not going to be hot enough to swim.”

  “I just want a little tan. I don’t need to get in the water. I’m pasty like Casper. You can join me. You look like a vampire.”

  “I’ll take vampire over ghost. They’re usually hotter.”

  “Have you been watching The Vampire Diaries again? Because we’ve been over this: you’re too old for the Salvatore Brothers.”

  Jenna scoffed. “Not a chance. They were pre-Civil War, remember? They’re at least like a hundred years older than me.”

  “Yeah, but they look like they’re in their twenties. Which makes you a cougar.”

  Jenna made a gagging sound and clutched her throat. “Call me a vampire, but please don’t ever call me a cougar again.”

  Rachel pursed her lips and looked at Jenna seriously. She had a tendency to switch from silly to serious on a dime, giving Jenna whiplash. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Sure. I’m just feeling a little lost, you know?” There were too many choices now. Jenna felt like she was in a long hallway full of open doors that all looked equally uninviting. She longed to be a kid again, when all the decisions fit into the easy boxes of whatever you were supposed to do: breakfast, school, homework, play time, dinner, bedtime, repeat. High school, college, job, marriage, kids. That’s when it all fell apart.

  “I’m really sorry, sis. About Mark and just everything. I hate that it happened to you. You deserve so much better than what you got. It plain sucks. That’s an understatement, but I don’t have any better words for it.”

  “Yeah, well. My life certainly went a different direction than what I planned.”