by Jenny Hale
They crossed the road and she took a minute to look at the gorgeous restaurant in front of her. The exterior was wooden, the different extensions painted in pastels—blue, yellow, and turquoise, with pink trim. Palm trees circled it all the way around to the enormous deck that stretched out over the Currituck Sound, a body of water that was separated from the Atlantic by the Outer Banks themselves. Faith loved swimming in the Sound as a kid because she could walk out for miles and still be knee deep, and the waves were tiny ripples that didn’t knock her over like the waves of the Atlantic did.
They walked inside and met the hostess. “Can we sit outside today?” Faith asked. She’d never sat outside in the bar area before. Until now, she hadn’t been old enough during her visits. The hostess nodded and grabbed two menus before leading them out to the deck.
A long tiki bar sat under a covered porch that stretched the length of the building, Hawaiian-like grass and party lights hanging from the ceiling at the edge to separate it from the wide decking on the other side. People were sitting on stools, having afternoon cocktails—big, colorful drinks with crazy glasses, and all kinds of festive fruit and trinkets dangling from them. The warm breeze rustled the grass over the bar, and the gentle lapping of the Sound could be heard just beyond the quiet conversations of the people seated at tables on the deck. They arrived at a table for two, and the hostess put their menus down.
“Someone will be right with you,” she said before walking away.
Faith looked out over the water as Caribbean-style music played, her eyes coming to rest on the long pier that stretched into the Sound. Along the pier were benches painted bright green and a gazebo at the end, painted in matching pastels.
“I’m not driving,” she said, “so I’m getting one of those crazy drinks.”
“If that’s what you want.” He was looking around too; she’d caught him. He focused on her face and made eye contact as if to ask what she was thinking.
In her mind, she told him to figure it out for himself, and she wondered if he could read her like he had. There had been times when he could, but ever since she’d found out about his plans for the Outer Banks, he hadn’t tried. The sun was high, casting its rays on the ripples in the water, and, with the soft breeze coming off the Sound, their little lunch date was almost romantic.
A waitress came and took their drink orders. Jake got a beer, but Faith had something different in mind. “I’ll have the Castaway Coconut, please.”
The waitress scribbled down the order and went to make their drinks. As she did, Jake located the drink on his menu and read aloud, “Vanilla Rum, Pineapple, OJ, and Coconut…” he read, and then squinted toward the page for a second before looking up at her. “It’s served in a real carved coconut?”
“Yep.” She smiled. “Bet you can’t get one of those at the Tides,” she teased.
He laughed, but sobered quickly, and she worried that she’d hit a nerve. It had just slipped out, but her point wasn’t to draw attention to his choices.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad about what you’ve chosen to build. I’m just trying to show you why I don’t feel comfortable there.”
“My ex-wife hated places like this bar,” he said, the comment coming out of nowhere.
“Oh?”
“She didn’t grow up here like I did, and I had a very hard time making her feel comfortable here. She always seemed unhappy, telling me how things around here could be so much better. I figured there were probably more people like her who would want something different than what we were used to down here. She saw the place as really behind the times. It made me aware of how others might perceive the area. I realized I could make it better, satisfy the people like her and show them that it wasn’t inferior to other beaches.”
The waitress brought their drinks and set them down on the table. “Are you ready to order?”
Jake nodded to Faith, allowing her to order first. “I’ll have the fish tacos,” she said, closing her menu and handing it to the waitress.
“Two, please.” Jake handed his menu over. When the waitress had gone, he cocked his head at her drink and started laughing. “It’s really carved!” he said with a chuckle. “What is that on the front of it? A monkey?”
Faith spun it around to have a look. The drink was enormous, and she had to hold it with both hands because her fingers couldn’t stretch around it. “Yep. I think it is,” she said as she took a sip. It was delicious and fruity, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a drink that good.
“Maybe your ex-wife just needed a drink like this.”
“My ex-wife would never have a drink in a coconut,” he laughed again. Then, he became serious. “I’ve been a property developer my whole adult life. I’ve built developments in Florida, South Carolina, Georgia… I know what I’m doing. Those developments are very successful. When we moved here, I was able to see the Outer Banks through her eyes, and as a developer, I knew what I could do here after she pointed it all out. There are people like her who will come here for the condos and the swimming pools, and the golf clubs. That’s what they want, and they want it just as badly as you want this.”
“But can you have them both here? Is there room for both?” She took a sip off the long, pink straw that jutted out from her coconut.
He chuckled again, that affection in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a while. “I’m sorry. I can’t take you seriously when you’re drinking from that thing. It’s the size of a football! Good thing you’re not driving.”
He was avoiding the question, but she was happy to see that he hadn’t reacted badly to it. That was a step in the right direction.
“Look,” she said, seeing a sign by the bar. “There’s going to be live music tonight.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore. There were thoughts behind his eyes, but she couldn’t tell what they were.
“Would you come back with me tonight after the boat ride?” she asked, hoping her question would get him talking again.
“Only if you get a different drink,” he teased.
“Absolutely! There’s one in a fishbowl I’d like to try…”
Jake laughed and Faith was glad that she had lightened the moment between them.
“What made you choose Corolla for your developments?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. She was really upset about it, but she knew that if she dwelled on that, he’d never open up. She had to tread lightly.
“Well, there have been a few successful developments by others in the area. There’s still so much space there that there’s tons of room to add to what is already a great location, given the wide, clean beaches.”
“Corolla’s known for its small businesses. Will they be okay?”
“They’re not going anywhere. They’ll benefit from the increased tourism, like I said.”
“Aren’t you worried that it’ll get too busy and that will drive people away?”
“Other beaches are busy. There’s still Coquina Beach if you want open space. That’s part of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, so no one can touch that. I think it’s just a matter of organizing the space here.”
“I don’t think it’s as easy as that. What about the wild horses? They won’t just magically move themselves. They’ll be squeezed out of their habitats,” she said. “What will it be like for them if, and when, all the land is finally gone? How many will survive?”
“It is sad, but it’s already happening, and it isn’t going to get any better. That will happen whether I develop there or not. If I don’t build there, someone will.”
“It wouldn’t bother you that you’d be part of the problem, part of their demise?”
“I don’t see it that way at all. Their numbers are dwindling already, and I haven’t even begun construction. Why? Because others are building. Who knows, the horses might find a new habitat on their own. They’ve survived centuries already. How do you know the strong ones won’t survive this?”
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br /> “What about people? People like me don’t want to be forced into squared off sections of the beach. We want the whole experience, and we won’t get that in the shadows of the high-rises.”
The waitress returned and set their plates in front of them. Jake thanked her and then looked back at Faith.
“One of the challenges I face in my job is trying to convince people of what they want. You’re not seeing the big picture here. You’re thinking about a few fond memories you have personally and not the forward movement of the area. People do this all the time, and I have to prove to them that I know what I’m talking about. There are more people who want the high-rises than want the porch swing on that little cottage.”
“I disagree.”
“Well, you’re not making the decisions about it. I am. And I’m tired of trying to make everyone else happy.” He looked down at his plate and didn’t look back up. Slowly, he cut his tacos with his knife and fork, every slice controlled and even. While he showed no outward signs of being rattled, she had to wonder, given how defensive he seemed, if she’d shaken him up.
They ate quietly, the music mixing with the gentle tapping of the ripples from Sound against the pier. The day was gorgeous, the sky electric blue with no clouds, the sun beating down on them but the breeze of the water keeping the heat away. Faith had finished her coconut drink, and she was finding liquid courage in the silence.
“What if you fell in love with someone again?” she asked, and he looked up at her. “What if you found someone you loved enough to be with for the rest of your life, and she hated what you were doing? What if she hated your developments and she had ideas for something better? What would you do?”
She could see his jaw clench as he tried to keep composure. Then, very quietly, he said, “I had that very issue in my first marriage, but I wasn’t moving fast enough, developing big enough resorts—nothing was good enough. I will never let that happen again. If I meet someone, and I fall in love again, she will have to accept me for who I am, even if we disagree.” He eyed the balled up napkin by her plate. “All done?” He flagged the waitress for the check.
“Wanna take a ride on the new boat?” Jake asked, coming up behind Faith. From the sound of his voice, he’d cooled down. Faith had been on the beach ever since Jake had brought her home. He’d been quiet the whole ride, and all she could think about was how her little plan to show him something fun had backfired. She turned around and faced him. Perhaps building the boat after dropping her off had helped with his mood.
She made eye contact, hoping that he couldn’t see in her eyes what she was thinking. She wanted to talk more about what they’d started at lunch, but she knew he had his guard up and it wouldn’t end well. “Sure,” she said with a smile. His expression told her that he’d noticed her thoughts. She was terrible at keeping them from showing on her face.
He looked at her a moment, thoughtful. It was as if he were contemplating something.
“How’s Casey?” he asked.
Surprised by the change in conversation, and a little disappointed that it had turned away from the two of them, she said, “She’s fine.”
“She told me about her divorce.”
“Oh.”
“I can definitely relate,” he said with a sad smile. “It’s very hard.”
Faith didn’t say anything. She didn’t have any experience with divorce or marriage.
“I hope she’ll be okay,” he said.
“Me too,” she said. “She’s got all of us to help her through it.”
He nodded. “She’s a lucky lady. She has a great family to support her.”
Jake was right. Casey was very lucky. And so was Faith. Faith was glad that Jake had pointed out the importance of family; she felt exactly the same way. She wound her hand around his arm. “Let’s go see this boat.”
EIGHTEEN
“Careful, Nan,” Faith said as Jake helped her step onto the boat. It rocked slightly in the residual waves left from another boat after it had taken off from the dock. Faith held her breath until Nan was safely seated. She couldn’t imagine Nan would actually go through with taking a boat ride, but Jake had mentioned a special place he’d like to take everyone, and when he’d described it, Nan had sworn that John had taken her there when they were young. Instantly, she’d wanted to see it. She’d even brave a boat ride for it.
Jake got everyone suited up in life vests. Faith felt a flutter as she watched how gentle he was with Nan as he belted her in, and then turned to do the same for Isabella. He was so good with people. She thought back to the day she’d first seen him. So often, a first impression of someone isn’t always the right one, but with him, it had been right on the mark. She attributed that fact to his openness.
Once Jake had finished belting Isabella and everyone had their vests on, Faith sat down next to Nan. As she settled in, Jake getting situated at the wheel, she finally took a moment to look around the boat. It was sleek with white upholstery and wood grain and silver accents. The wheel was silver, the knobs glimmering against the sunlight. Jake started the engine, the motor purring as he turned the wheel.
“What work have you done on this boat, Jake?” Faith called over the sound of the motor and the water as he drove the boat out to sea.
“I built a large part of the bow,” he said, keeping his head facing forward as he steered around a few other boats. “I also helped build parts of the hull. It’s a good feeling when I actually get to drive the boats I build.”
Once they were on open sea, the wind pushed against them, and Faith worried about Nan. Nan’s white curls were dancing around, her eyes squinting in the sun and wind.
“You okay, Nan?” Faith said loudly to be sure her grandmother could hear over the noise. She’d tried to look at Nan, but had to turn back toward the bow to keep her hair out of her face. She tried again to view her grandmother.
“Absolutely!” Nan said, attempting to smile against the speed of the boat. She looked so small sitting there. Faith knew that the seat was most likely uncomfortable, and being exposed to the elements probably wasn’t a good idea.
They were headed toward an uninhabited island, created many decades ago by a hurricane, and only accessible by boat. “It probably won’t even be around in ten years,” Jake had explained. “The hurricanes have almost pushed it completely under water.” But when Nan had heard of its location, she was giddier than a teenager, almost bouncing on her toes to go.
Jake pointed out the island as they neared it, and Nan sat up a little straighter. She had her body twisted in the direction of it, her elbow up on the port side of the boat, her fist covering her mouth as if holding in some kind of emotion. The boat gave a tiny lurch as it hit sand and came to a stop on the shore of this small spot in the ocean. It was so tiny that you could see through the trees to the other side, but it had the most gorgeous, silky sand on its beach, the waves rolling in so quietly and subtly that it made the thought of storms seem almost unimaginable. It was like a miniature paradise. Her mom and Casey helped Isabella down onto the beach, but Faith stayed next to Nan.
She’d never seen her like this before. Nan barely moved, her fist so tight against her mouth that it looked as though she’d burst into tears at any moment. Gently, she said, “Nan?”
She tipped her head down, her gaze finally leaving the island, and tears rolled along her aged skin. She nodded, although she was visibly crying. With a sniffle, she sat up and cleared her throat enough to speak. Jake had noticed and was kneeling next to them in concern.
“She’s still here,” Nan managed. “She’s weathered, smaller, but she’s still here.”
Both Jake and Faith waited for further explanation as Isabella squealed along the side of the boat, running and jumping into the water. Her mom and Casey were chatting, their conversation lost in the wind. They hadn’t noticed Nan yet. Perhaps they figured Faith and Jake were helping her out of the boat.
“I’ve come to the Outer Banks all my life. It is a part of my soul
. On the way here last weekend, I tried not to notice how the beach had been obstructed by all those new shops. I tried not to notice the rows of gaudy multicolored umbrellas poking out along the side of the enormous bypass that cut through the once-gorgeous landscape.” She wiped another runaway tear and stiffened up as if to fight her own emotions. “I tried not to notice the number of out-of-state license plates there were in the traffic. All those out-of-towners who’d found my little gem. I ignored it all, because I felt that if I could just get to the ocean, if I could just view the sea, it would all be okay. The sea has been the same since before my time, and, God willing, it will remain.”
Nan finally collected herself and then she turned back to look at the island again. “John proposed on an island exactly like this. In the haze that is my recollection, it seems like it has to be this is the one.” Her eyes became glassy again, and she blinked quite a few times before continuing. “I have moments of panic, moments where I fear that I will go in search for John, and I won’t find him,” she said, her words thick again with emotion, her voice breaking. “I can’t see him, but sometimes I think I can feel him, and like the sea, I pray that he is still here.” She leaned on Jake and tried to stand, the slanted surface of the boat making it difficult for her. “He carved my name on a tree somewhere near the shore. I couldn’t help but look for it as we pulled up. I doubt I could find it now, even if it was still here. It’s probably gone like everything else from that era. I can’t see it, but the minute I arrived, I could feel it. I don’t need to find a marking on a tree to be able to remember. It’s as if it were yesterday. I can still feel his hand in mine, hear his words to me. We were so young…” She took a step over to the other side of the boat. “I’ll sit here. It’s in the shade. Thank you, Jake, for bringing me.” She wiped a tear.
