“I don’t know if I can twist this body into a pretzel or not.” Neil looked down at the mat that lay on the sand. “I think my meditation is at the end of a fishing pole.”
“Okay. Maybe later. I’m just going to plug in and practice a few poses if you don’t mind—and I think there might be something nibbling on your line.” Billie nodded to the pole sliding toward the water.
“Crap!” Neil lunged for the pole, grabbing it and reeling in the line which went taut—and then slack—as the fish swam away with his bait. “Well, so much for that one, but I’ll get the next one.”
Billie hid a smile with her hand and then sat on the mat, plugged into the soothing music and began her morning routine.
Deep into her practice she barely noticed Neil slipping away.
Pulling the earbuds from her ears, she reached for the stones when a large shadow loomed over her.
“How you doing, girl?” String stood with one hand up to shade his eyes and the other on the small of his back.
“Probably better than you. Did you sleep on the swing all night?”
“Slept some, swung back and forth a lot. Did you know you have a dog under your house?”
“A dog?” Billie carefully balanced the last stone on the top.
“Yeah, I think it is the mutt that has been hanging out at the restaurant. And I think she may be pregnant. I watched her dig out a little more sand and scoot underneath. You may be having puppies one of these days.”
“Well, I don’t need a dog or certainly a litter of puppies. We need to find her a home.” Billie stood and rolled up the yoga mat, brushing the sand from underneath.
“Thanks again for staying last night. I called my doctor and have an appointment on the mainland. I need to get a shower and get going before I’m late.” She touched his arm as she walked past.
“Sure. I’m glad you’re seeing the doctor today after what happened last night. Maybe she has some good advice about handling the situation. She has always been good for you. I’ll see you later.” He waved as he walked away toward his apartment.
Chapter 14
The office always smelled of lavender. The diffuser that sat in the corner was meant to help the client relax. Unless the client hated the smell of lavender. Which she didn’t. What if somebody was allergic to lavender? She wasn’t. Billie’s thoughts were jumbled this morning, and she knew she needed to concentrate. Lavender wasn’t the issue. She breathed deeply and instinctively crossed her legs into a lotus pose on the couch. Two years ago, that would never have occurred to her.
Dr. Nicole Flint took the seat opposite her with notebook in hand. Imagine what all that notebook had heard! Literally pages and pages of lives and their secrets went into a notebook transcribed into files for each client.
The doctor, in black palazzo pants and white knit top, sat with legs crossed at the knees and swept her short dark hair behind one ear. “So, tell me what’s been going on.”
Instinctively Billie began to tear up. How many times had she cried on this woman’s shoulder? She must be sick of her constant whining by now. But the doctor never acted that way. She found her always soothing and comforting—until she held a mirror up for Billie to see herself and then things could get ugly.
“Well, Joe Franks is out of prison.” Billie brushed a piece of lint from her pants.
“Yes, we knew that.” The doctor raised one eyebrow in question.
“And he came to see me at the restaurant.”
“Is the protective order still in place?” The doctor looked up from her notebook.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He went to prison, so it wasn’t needed anymore, and who knew he’d ever want to see me again? I mean the courts initially set it up because he started calling me when he made bail. But after he went to prison, I thought that would be the end of him. He only spent a year in jail, and now he’s out. He said he wanted me to help him get a job. He said the restitution program broke him because of me. Well, I’m broke too, especially emotionally. I mean where does he get off?” The words rolled from her mouth like the flood gates had been opened. Once she started, she could hardly stop.
“Well, it needs to be reinstated. You can get your lawyer to do that for you or you can do it yourself.” The doctor eyed her closely. “Would that help to make you feel safe?”
“I suppose it would. But what good is a piece of paper if he really has something in mind? I mean he said he wanted me to write him a letter of recommendation, that he had paid his debt to society. He will never repay the debt of my family being gone. That is not possible. He was sentenced to one year for involuntary manslaughter. One year! My family is dead, and he got one year.” Billie grabbed a tissue from the box on the table next to the couch and blew her nose loudly. “He’s the reason I’m here. He’s the reason I have nightmares.”
“How are the nightmares?” Dr. Flint took off her glasses and looked at Billie with clear blue eyes.
“Actually, they’re better. I seldom have them. I did have one last night, but I slept so little it hardly mattered.”
“So, you think the medication and yoga are helping?”
“Yes, normally they do. Last night I felt different. It was such a shock, and just the idea that he thought I should help him took me by surprise. I wasn’t scared so much as angry.”
“I think anger is a step forward. It could be healing. Anger is a very real emotion, and if channeled correctly, could help you deal with all you have going on. It is a natural adaptive response; when you feel threatened, anger helps you to feel empowered. You need to feel empowered, Billie. You have suffered a great loss, and like we talked about, you will always feel that loss. But you can also feel that you are in charge of your life. Anger can give you the courage to defend yourself. You need to be able to feel you can defend yourself and feel like less of a victim. You need to ask yourself what is within your control. And then you need to act on it.” The doctor continued to look at Billie. The room deathly still, except for the soft hiss of the diffuser.
Billie nodded and cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you I met a new friend on the island. Neil Towers is a snow bird from Montana, and he lives on his boat. He seems a little smitten with me. He’s a nice man even though I’m not looking for one. Anyway, he told me his wife divorced him, and he attempted suicide. He wanted me to know I wasn’t alone, I think. He has had a lot of counseling, and now he lives here. I don’t think he wants to go home.” Billie shifted in her seat.
“How do you feel about his attention toward you?” Dr. Flint looked up from her writing.
“Well, like I said, I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’ll just keep it friendly. I’m not sure I’m a good match for anyone right now, maybe never.”
“And what do we say to accept?” The doctor looked at her closely.
“I need to accept my imperfections.” Billie repeated the mantra as if she were a child in the classroom. They always said that at the end of a session. A good thing to remember, if she could actually do it.
“Good. A new friend is a good thing. A romantic entanglement might prove challenging, but you never know. You need to lean on yourself, Billie, not someone else. Just remember you are strong on your own—strong enough to support yourself. And if you want a relationship, you are strong enough for that too. As long as he is not dependent. Get the protective order against Joe Franks reinstated. It is a shield, especially if the police get involved. After all, he’s still on probation. He’s barely out of jail, and he still needs to feel like a prisoner for a while. He wants to blame his problems on someone, and you are his target. Don’t let him make you a victim.
“What do you think is driving the anger you feel against Joe Franks? What is underneath it?” The therapist pointed to Billie with her glasses.
“I don’t know. I think I believed him to be sorry for what he did. He admitted remorse in open court. But now, I feel betrayed. I know he can’t bring them back, but he could at least feel badly about taking
lives.” Billie sobbed again.
“Okay, good. You know where the anger is coming from. Now I want you to write down what you feel and bring it with you next time. I want to see you again next week. Let’s discuss this anger issue then and see if we can help you feel less victimized. Don’t forget to take care of the protective order.”
“No, I won’t forget. I’ll get on it in the morning. Thank you.”
Billie made the appointment with the receptionist and dropped the card in her purse on the way out the door. She really did feel better.
Chapter 15
At the turnstile, the bags flowed in and then back out—all the same—all black. The only thing different were the name tags attached. Neil and Mike stood mesmerized watching for just the right bag at Corpus Christi International.
“How about some dinner before we go to the boat?” Neil turned to his friend in the passenger seat of the convertible. The bag in the trunk, they pulled out of the parking space at the airport.
“I thought you were feeding me fish at your place.”
“Only if you catch it.” Neil smiled at his friend.
“Well, if that’s the case, I might lose some weight while I’m here. Maybe we should check out the local restaurants.”
Pulling the sports car into a parking lot of a local chain, Neil stepped out of the Mercedes. “Well, there aren’t a lot of places to eat on the island, but there is one nice restaurant I want to take you to. There is a woman who sings the blues there, and you have to hear her.”
“A woman, huh?” Mike eyed his friend.
“Not like that. She is a fantastic singer and has a story. I’ll tell you all about her over a burger, okay?”
Stuffed after the burger, they drove toward the island barely making the last call at the ferry.
“Really, you get there by ferry? I mean, were you trying to get away from the world?” Mike stood at the railing looking out at the strand of water that ran between the mainland and Sandhill Island.
“Yeah, I think so. But this place…” Neil looked across the water. “There is something soothing about this place. I can’t put my finger on it, but I love it here.”
“Well, you’re not going into the office every day, so that may be what you love.”
“I was never afraid of hard work. I just went over the edge after the divorce and took a little detour on the way back home.” Neil laughed at his own joke. He knew it to be true. “The island closes down at night since the ferry quits running, and things really grind to a halt. And that’s all right with me.”
They drove off the ferry and turned right toward the harbor. “I’ll give you the grand tour in the morning when you can see better. But here is my little home-away-from-home.” He pointed to the slip with the boat gently swaying in the lapping water. It read Overboard on the stern in script.
“Overboard. I like it.” Mike climbed out of the car and walked to the trunk for his bag.
“Told you she was a beauty.” Neil put the top up on the car and locked it then walked down the gangplank to the slip he rented. Climbing in, he turned and took the bag from his friend. “Welcome aboard.” He smiled and tossed the bag to a seat.
“How about a cold one? There are twin beds in the hull, little close quarters, but it works.”
Grabbing the bag, Mike followed Neil inside.
“You can have that one,” he said gesturing to the bed on the right. “It has clean sheets and everything.” Then walked to the kitchen and took two beers from the refrigerator. “Let’s go up top with these.”
****
“Sandy’s coming tomorrow. The kids went to Dad’s for a few weeks after school let out, and she’s coming to spend the week with her mom.” Billie pocketed the cell phone and turned to her mother sitting in the wheel chair.
“Again? That’s great. She must be homesick.”
“I think she is getting tired of the job—being away from home all the time and such. I think the excitement is growing thin with her. She said she had something else in mind.” Billie walked toward the chair that her mother lived in these days. She wondered if her attitude would be as good if she had a similar fate.
“Well, you should not be held down by your job. I assume she has to keep the kids in Mississippi though, since their dad is there.” Giselle sat up straight in her chair looking out the window.
“Probably. She mentioned something about teaching. There are colleges there, and she might be able to do something else. She’s earned it.”
“I’m sure she has.” Giselle looked out to sea through the window that had just been cleaned. “How about some tea?” She turned and looked at her daughter.
“Of course, hot or iced?” Billie put her hands on the handle of the chair and pushed her mother toward the door.
“Hot, I think. I’m a little chilly this morning.” The older woman reached her gnarled hand up and buttoned the top button on her robe.
Chapter 16
She woke with a start when the ladder hit the side of the house. Martha Smith, Sandy’s mother, threw open the bedroom door pulling on a cotton bathrobe.
“Morning Mom!” Sandy stood drinking her second cup of coffee.
“Sandy? What is that noise?” Martha ran for the front door.
“It’s okay, Mom, it’s just the painters.” Sandy walked from the kitchen barefoot with a coffee cup in her hand.
“The what? I don’t have painters coming. I wish I did, but I can’t afford to pay someone to paint this house.” She looked at her daughter who stood leaning on the door facing with a knowing smile on her face.
“Sandra Louise, what have you done?” She eyed her daughter who stared back with a smug look on her face.
“Just what needed to be done that I didn’t have time to do myself. I hired a painter. They are going to scrape today. And I hope you liked the color, I ordered yellow with white trim—just like it used to be.”
“Well, it’s not okay. I can’t afford this, and you should not be paying for my house painting.”
“You said the house would be mine someday, I’m just protecting it from the elements. Anyway, it needed to be done, and I wanted to do it for you. He will scrape, prime, and paint. I hope this paint job lasts longer than the last one. We’ll see.”
A pause hung in the air and both women stared at each other. “Sandy, Sandy, Sandy, I don’t know what to say.” She walked toward her daughter holding her arms out and then enfolding her in an embrace.
“Well, I didn’t know they were going to wake you, sorry, but happy birthday.”
“It isn’t my birthday.” Martha looked out the window again.
“Well, Merry Christmas?” Sandy took a sip of coffee.
“Whatever. You’re a good daughter.” Martha patted her shoulder. “What do you want for breakfast?” Martha walked toward the kitchen.
“I don’t know, what do you have?” Sandy opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice, pouring two glasses. She knew her mother loved orange juice in the morning.
“Omelet?” Martha pulled the eggs out and carried them to the stove.
“I love your omelets.” Sandy reached back for cheese and onion and began to help her mother cook.
“Are you going to see Billie today? You know there are some new places here on the island since the tourism has increased. They put in an ice cream shop, and then there is a burger and a fish place. Just little fast food joints, but you should take her. I doubt that she gets out much except to Le Chez and home.” Martha beat the eggs in a bowl.
“I hope the tourism doesn’t increase too much. I would hate for this to become a spring break haven for the college kids.”
“I doubt there is that much for them to do here.” She poured the egg mixture into the pan.
“Well, I might just see if she wants to show me around. You want to come?” Sandy pulled two plates from the cabinet and put bread in the toaster.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t walk as well as you girls—my arthritis, you k
now.” Martha pushed a strand of hair behind one ear.
“Well, we’ll walk slow. You’re welcome to come. I’m here to see my mom and Billie. And the ladders may get noisy.”
Martha took the plates to the table and pulled out a chair “You know, I’m not a very good neighbor. Maybe I should visit Giselle while you girls are out. I only live a few blocks away, and it’s not like I do that much. Maybe I’ll bake some cookies and take them over. I have some dough in the refrigerator.”. She bit into the toast with a bite of egg then stood and turned on the oven.
“I think that’s a great idea, Mom.” Apricot jam slid off the toast and dripped onto Sandy’s plate. She scooped it up with a finger and licked it off, then took her plate to the sink. “I’m going to get a shower and then I’ll do these dishes.”
****
The ocean breeze blew Sandy’s long blonde hair from her face as she walked in shorts and flip flops. Though the asphalt road was often invisible because of the blowing sand, the women knew the way into town. It was hard to get lost on such a small island.
“I see Sanders’ Hardware is still open.” Sandy pushed the sunglasses up on her head in the shade of the awning.
“I think he does well. Everyone needs hardware now and then.” Billie continued to walk down the street.
The main street of the island looked like many small towns, with shops and awnings. There were T-shirt shops for the tourists and places to get in out of the sun for a cold drink. Many of the shops were damaged in the last hurricane but had been repaired. The one shop that didn’t fare well was an artist’s studio, now a blank spot in the road, a piece of real estate ripe for building a new place, but it sat empty with an occasional sprig of sea grass poking up out of the sand.
“The ice cream parlor went into that empty building at the end of the block. Is it too early for ice cream?” Billie pointed to the small building with lemon-yellow bistro tables sitting beside turquoise pots of blooming petunias out front, then looked at her friend.
Stones of Sandhill Island Page 7
