The three older men puffed with pride and smiled, shaking his hand once more, pumping it up and down. As they filed out of the pub, Mitch turned back around and startled as the three MacFarlane’s stared at him.
“What?” he demanded.
“You haven’t been back in town a full day and you’re already getting all civic-minded!” Aiden accused. “Those old dudes have asked us several times about trying to get new blood into the American Legion, but…well, I guess we just blew them off.”
“Mitch,” Katelyn said, squeezing his arm before walking away, “good to have you home!”
Mitch gazed back at his two oldest friends and shrugged, “There’s a lot of us who came back and I don’t think it’s such a bad idea to have a meeting place. Granted, I don’t have a lot of information about the American Legion, but I’ve got no reason not to check into them.”
Brogan, wiping the bar with his dishrag, nodded, “Let me know what you find out. I’d be interested in discovering what a former Marine like me could do with an American Legion. I’m in.” Walking to the back kitchen, he left Mitch and Aiden staring at his back.
“Well, fuck me,” Aiden said. “That’s more than he’s talked about the service since he came back.” Meeting Mitch’s gaze, he added, “and since that was only a sentence, you can imagine what a big deal that just was.”
Mitch knew Aiden had his issues from the war, hidden behind bravado and jokes. But Brogan came back quieter than ever and never spoke of his service time. Nodding, he met his friend’s eyes, saying, “I’ll check. Maybe we can resurrect the Baytown Boys…as men now.”
“Hell, yeah!”
Sliding off the stool, Mitch tossed down his money and waved as he walked out into the evening breeze coming off the bay. Sucking in a deep breath of the warm, salty air, he decided to walk toward the town’s public beach.
As he got to the end of the sidewalk, he sat down on one of the concrete benches and pulled off his shoes and socks. Rolling up his pants legs, he stuffed his socks into his shoes and headed out onto the sand.
A few families were still wandering on the beach having celebrated the sunset. It always amused him that the beach and town pier would be filled with sunset-watchers. And as the sun finally dropped behind the bay’s horizon, people would clap. Most were now packing up their towels and chairs and herding tired children back to their cars.
It did not take long for him to be one of the few left on the beach and he walked along, the soft, white sand under his bare feet. As he stood with his toes in the water facing the bay, he was struck as always by the way the ever-undulating surf calmed his soul.
When he returned from his tour in Iraq, he threw himself into studying police science and becoming an FBI agent, burying memories of his time overseas. Occasionally, they came back, but for the most part he battled them down into the recesses. But a lot of my buddies didn’t do that…or can’t. Turning to face the town with his back to the water, he thought, and some of the Baytown Boys could use an American Legion. Hanging his head for a moment, he wondered how he would find the time to learn everything he needed to learn about being a police chief and deal with some of the veteran needs in the community.
Glancing down at the white sand, a flash of green caught his eye. Bending, he picked up the piece of sea glass. Smiling, he remembered that Baytown was one of the best places for collecting the surf-polished shards and his mind rolled back.
“Whatcha got in your hand?” I asked the pretty little girl, whose red hair, escaping the two braids, was whipping about her shoulders.
Katelyn and Jillian ran from behind me and hugged the little girl.
“She’s our new friend,” my six-year old cousin, Jillian claimed. “Her grandmother owns the Sea Glass Inn.”
As the new girl turned, I was captured by her large, sky-blue eyes peering back at me. Little freckles ran across her nose and she smiled at me.
Just then, some of my friends came running over, chasing Katelyn and Jillian. Screams of “Tag, you’re it!” rang out on the beach as they all ran off, leaving the new girl still standing and staring at me.
“I’m Tori,” she said, her smile illuminating her face as the sunset colored the sky behind her head. Lifting her hand, she exposed a tiny piece of sea glass resting on her palm.
“That’s sea glass,” I said. Seeing her confused expression, I stepped closer. At eight, I already towered over her. “Do you know what sea glass is?”
Shaking her pigtails, she raised her blue eyes to mine.
“It’s bits of glass that come from ships. They toss out their glass bottles and, once in the ocean, the glass gets broken and then tossed with the waves and sand. It polishes them so that the pieces are smooth.”
Eyes wide, she breathed, “Ooh, how pretty.” Fingering it in her hand, she asked, “Should I put it back on the sand?”
“No. You can keep it,” I told her, loving the smile that greeted my words. She looked up at me as though I had given her permission to hold a priceless gem. “I’m Mitch, by the way.”
Just then the gang ran back, still chasing each other and squealing in the evening sunset. “You wanna play?” I asked.
Grinning again, Tori tucked the piece of sea glass into the pocket of her shorts and nodded.
Reaching down, I grabbed her hand as we ran across the beach toward our friends.
His memories were interrupted by a light in the distance. An upstairs light shone from the third story, attic room of the Sea Glass Inn. French doors led to a balcony that had been built from that room, and the light poured forth. The building was an old, stately home facing the bay and he remembered the older woman who used to own it. Mrs. Bradford. Tori’s grandmother. Her husband died in the Vietnam War and his widow ran the inn ever since. I wonder if she’s still around? Or still alive? Tori would cross his mind occasionally over the years, memories of her always bringing a smile. He chalked it up to nostalgia, much like the Baytown Boys. His feelings for the little, red-haired pigtail girl grew until as an adolescent he discovered his body responding just at the sight of her. I thought at one time…well, I was just a kid then. Life intervened. War intervened.
Before his memories were able to go down that road, his attention was diverted when a woman stepped through the glass door of the attic room onto the balcony. The evening was too dark to tell her features, but he discerned her long hair blowing in the breeze. She stood with her hands on the railing, facing the water for several minutes, before dropping her head as though looking at the beach below.
The distance kept him from seeing where she was looking, but as she halted her perusal he could swear it was as though she pinned him with her gaze. His pulse jumped and, before he could stop himself, he raised his hand to wave.
The woman suddenly whirled around, her hair flying about her shoulders with the motion. She hustled back through the doors, pulling the curtains over them.
Stunned—and rooted to the spot—Mitch realized his hand was still in mid-wave. Wow…never had that affect on a woman before. Shaking his head as he made his way back to his car, he thought, hell, from that far she probably didn’t even see me. And certainly didn’t know who I was.
That night, as he lay in bed, his mind filled with the events of the day, he thought back to the inn and the mysterious woman on the balcony. As he drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of the blue-eyed, red haired, little girl he used to play with when she would visit her grandmother and, when they were older, how his adolescent blood ran hot at the sight of the pretty teenager she had become that last summer.
*
Tori sat on the end of her bed, her head hanging down with her red hair falling all about. I am such a dork! There’s no way Mitch could have seen me up here in the shadows of the building, but now he’ll think whoever is here is a complete nincompoop!
Flopping back on the bed, her legs still hanging off the side, she stared at the ceiling fan in her room. Mesmerized by the motion, her mind wandered down memory lane.
I never met friends back home like the ones I had here. A fun group of girls and boys always swarmed over to the Sea Glass Inn during the summers and included her in their games. My sister, Vanessa, rarely there, tried to hog attention like she did at home, but the kids in Baytown never liked her more than me. Maybe that’s why Vanessa used to be so mean to me and refused to spend summers here.
I loved my friends. I loved the acceptance. I loved spending time with my grandmother. A smile crept across her face as she admitted to herself…I loved Mitch Evans.
Sitting up, Tori looked around her beloved room. By the time she was a teenager, Vanessa did not want to stay in Baytown for the whole summer, but Tori begged to stay. When she was fourteen, her grandmother said, “I’m going to turn the attic into a nice room and you can stay there when you come, if you’d like.”
She had been thrilled, and even more excited when her grandmother let her help decorate. The walls were painted a soft blue with white wood trim. The lace curtains were white as was the comforter on the queen bed. The antique dresser and chest of drawers were painted distressed white as well. A small window overlooked the back of the property and underneath sat a desk, perfect for writing—something Tori loved to do. But her favorite change was the balcony and glass doors her grandmother had added.
It was Tori’s and she didn’t have to share it with her sister. Vanessa was never enthralled with the charm of the Sea Glass Inn.
The thought of her grandmother brought a familiar pang to her heart. Moving to the dresser, she brushed her hair; the memory of her grandmother doing the same act had her soon laying the brush down. Looking at her reflection, she said, “You’re trying not to think about Mitch Evans, aren’t you?”
Refusing to answer herself out loud, she nonetheless knew what the answer was. Of all the friends I had here, Mitch Evans was the one who I wanted to give my heart to. By the time the kids had become teens, Tori had fallen for Mitch. Afraid to tell him of the depths of her feelings, she tried to pretend she did not care for him more than the others. He must have liked me too…at one time. She remembered how he would always manage to sit next to her at ball games or picnics in the park. She even caught Aiden making kissy faces at them once behind Mitch’s back.
She never liked to think about the girls he may have dated during the school year when she was back at home, but he was always single during the summers and she would pretend that was because of her.
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she remembered the last spring break before his high school graduation when, visiting her grandmother again, Mitch had asked her to the town picnic. Vanessa and mom left the day of the picnic but as soon as her sister found out her plans, she had to ruin everything.
“Why, Tori, I had no idea you liked Mitch. He’s a great kisser,” Vanessa crooned.
My heart jolted at her words. How would she know?
Continuing to stab at my heart, Vanessa leaned in so that mom couldn’t hear her words and said, “Little sis, you should know he’s been after me for over a year. Begged me to give up my virginity to him.” Smiling as though in the throes of a sweet memory, she continued, “I finally gave in and had sex with him last summer when you were laid up with a cold. Of course, after I found out he slept with lots of girls, I broke it off.”
My face, unable to hide my hurt, seemed to give Vanessa pleasure.
“Oh, honey, it’s so much better for you to know that he’s a player.” The corners of her lips turned up, as she drove the knife in a little further. “But I gotta say that sex with Mitch Evans may have ruined me for any other man.” Patting my shoulder she added, “But if you don’t mind your sister’s castoffs, go for it.”
Mom called and Vanessa turned to climb back in the car. Mom yelled that she would be back to pick me up in a couple of days. I don’t remember waving. All I remember doing was going up to my room and crying.
When Mitch showed up to take me to the picnic, I had grandma tell him I was sick. And I stayed sick for the next two days. My adolescent heart broken, I left Baytown and did not go back that summer. First college, then a job. I knew Mitch joined the Army and then the FBI. Grandma would always fill me in on the comings and goings of Baytown and especially the Baytown Boys, as they were known.
But I never saw Mitch Evans again. Until today.
Chapter 5
“So, Chief Evans, do you play golf?”
Mitch gazed out of the clubhouse over the emerald green expanse of grass, bordered with flowers and pines. He had to admit, the golf course was beautiful and the surrounding houses and condos in the gated community gave a boost to the economy of Baytown. Looking back at the three men he dined with, he wondered how many more meetings like this he would need to endure before he settled into the routine of his job.
Having been the Police Chief since Monday, it was now Friday and he had met with the Rotary Club, Town Council, PTSO, Clergy of Baytown, Lions Club, Business Men & Women of Baytown, Board of the Boys and Girls Club, Eastern Shore National Wildlife, Commercial Fishermen’s Organization, and now the board members of The Dunes Golf Club.
He was about at the end of his patience, considering every organization had their own agenda concerning what they wanted and expected from the Police Chief, not to mention that in such a small community, many of the same people populated the different groups.
Plastering on a smile, he nodded politely and said, “Yes, I do occasionally. I’m afraid I haven’t had time recently and won’t in the near future, but I certainly appreciate what has been built here.
His answer appeared to placate the members of the board and he was grateful to take his leave, nodding at the waitress and bartender as he walked out into the bright sunshine. He drove through the gates, then meandered through the harbor, making a circle in front of the new seafood restaurant, The Seafood Shack. A popular eatery, he had not dined there yet, and put it on his list as next to visit. Leaving the harbor, he waved as some of the fishermen were coming in from their day on the bay.
Taking the bridge that spanned the train tracks, he drove by the beach and then turned by the town park, noting families out and about. On his way through town, he waved to residents out on their porches or walking in the evening sun as he drove to the other side where large, bayside vacation rental homes stood next to the yacht marina and an upscale restaurant. At only five square miles, it did not take long to cover the town. He had been wined and dined at Sunset View restaurant a few times during the week. Instead of stopping, he glanced at his watch as he turned the jeep around and decided it was time for a detour.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into his parents’ driveway. Alighting from his vehicle, he barely rounded the front when the door opened and his mom came out onto the porch. At five feet five inches, she was towered over by her husband and son, but what she lacked in height she made up for in what Grandpa Tolsen used to call gumption. Fair to the bone, tenacious, and the most giving woman Mitch had ever met. Her brown hair, streaked with a little gray, was bobbed to her shoulders. Her smooth complexion had her appearing ten years younger and, except for a few pounds that his father lovingly patted every chance he got, she was little different from the woman Mitch remembered from his childhood.
“I thought you’d never have a chance to come over,” she joked. “I remember a lot of nights when your dad would come home late from everybody in town wanting a piece of him.” Drawing him into a hug, she opened the door and ushered him in. “I know you’ve had dinner but how about some dessert?”
“Oh, God, mom, do you have pie?”
“Do I have pie? What kind of a question is that? Have y
ou ever come home from a visit and I didn’t have pie?” she asked, pretend scolding.
“No, but this isn’t a visit anymore. I live here.”
She stopped in the entry foyer and turned, piercing her son with her warm gaze. Placing her hand on his cheek, she said, “I’m glad you have come home, Mitch, but I know what a big life change this has been for you. So, as long as you’re here, I’ll always have something special just for you.” Leaning forward to whisper, she said, “But I have to keep your father on a strict diet so he can only have a little piece. If you’ll have a little piece too, I’ll send the rest home with you.”
Smiling, he peered down at the indomitable Nancy Evans. “No problem, mom. Now let me go talk to the former Chief.”
Walking into to the comfortable den, Mitch found Ed Evans sitting in his recliner, a baseball game on. His father was an older version of himself. His light brown hair was speckled with grey. The only difference from when Mitch visited at Christmas would be his slightly gaunt appearance from several hospital stays. It was hard to imagine his dad anything but in the most robust health.
Seeing his father about to rise, Mitch rushed over to take his hand. Shaking it, he quickly said, “Dad, don’t get up. I’m just here to visit for a bit.”
Thirty minutes later, after the pieces of pie were consumed, Nancy stood and said, “I’m going to let you two men talk shop for awhile. I’ll be back after I clean up the kitchen.” Winking at her son, she bent to kiss her husband before leaving the room.
Mitch watched as his father’s eyes never left his mother until she was completely out of sight. Funny, he’s always done that but it never used to mean anything to me…until recently. Heaving a sigh, he realized he wanted that kind of relationship. At thirty-one, he was ready to find someone. God, but I sure as hell don’t have time now to even think about it!
Bringing his attention back to his dad, he noticed his father’s gaze now on him. “Son, tell me all about it. I just might be the one person in this town that can understand what you’re going through.”
Coming Home: Baytown Boys Series Page 4
