by Jenny Hale
“Good morning!” Faith said with surprise as she walked out of her room to find Scott at the kitchen table with the local newspaper. “It’s funny to see you sitting there.”
“Funny?” he said with a crooked grin, but she knew he understood.
Even when they were younger, Scott always read the newspaper. He had it delivered to his house. She used to tease him because he separated all the sections and reordered them the way he wanted to read them, starting with the Sports section. She huffed out a little laugh as she noticed the paper had been pulled apart and stacked on the table.
“What?” he said, tipping the edge of his page to peer down at the pile in front of him.
“Did you reorder them?”
“Of course. Who wants to start with front-page news? It’s so depressing.”
Faith laughed. It was like they hadn’t skipped a beat. There was absolutely no indication on his face that the years apart had tainted their friendship. With all the stress of her emotions gone, she could just enjoy who he was again. And it came back so easily.
“How are things with Casey?” she asked as she poured them both a glass of juice.
He took the glass, nodding a quick thank you and setting down the paper. “Things are going well. She wants to try.”
“She does. I’ve seen a side of her this week that’s so different than anything I’ve ever seen from her before.”
Faith knew her proximity to Casey, the beach house, their memories, Nan—all of it had changed them this week. She caught a glimpse of the rocking chairs through the glass door as they moved in the wind outside. They looked so new, their runners moving along the yellow wood of the porch. How she wished she’d be able to see those chairs when the paint on the arms had worn, the wood underneath glossy from lotions and tanning oils. She wondered if the porch floor would pucker in places like it had at their cottage. She wondered how long it would take for that yellow wood to weather and turn a deep brown, grains of sand from little feet and well-used towels filling the crevices. The two cottages were like her friendship with Scott in a way—the old one, warm and comforting, reminding her of younger days but had long been taken by the storms. The new one looked similar and felt similar but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t better or worse just different, and she found it could be just as good as before.
Nan had wanted to sit on the beach today. The whole family had been so worried that she’d fall, trying to walk in the sand, but she’d trudged out there. Then they worried she might get burnt, so Scott had erected the canopy over the top of their chairs to create shade, and they’d faced Nan’s chair toward the cottage so the sun was behind her. Now, they worried about the heat.
“I’m fine. Good grief,” Nan said as Faith offered her a bottle of water from the cooler. “You know that I was alive before air conditioning? I survived the heat then, and I’ll survive it now.”
“I just don’t want you to dehydrate.” Faith held out the bottle—her final attempt. Nan took it, but Faith wondered if the gesture was just to appease them all down.
“I don’t like facing this direction,” she said. “I can’t see Isabella playing.”
Isabella heard her and gathered her shovels and buckets, dropping them here and there as she wobbled them over in front of Nan. “I can build over here,” she said, letting her arms fall by her sides, the colorful pile of plastic toys falling at her feet. She sat down, the sand coating her wet legs as she asked Nan what she wanted her to build.
As Faith watched them, it occurred to her to pull her cell phone out of her bag and snap a photo. She shielded the screen from the sun with her hand to view it. Nan was smiling, the sea behind her. Isabella’s face was animated with her head turned toward her great-grandmother. She was on her knees, holding a blue shovel in her hand. Faith smiled as she looked at the photo, and she wished she’d taken more since she’d been there. She turned around, walked out from under the canopy, and snapped another. The sun was so bright that she could hardly see what she’d gotten, but when she went back under the canopy to see it, it almost took her breath away. The sky was bright orange, yellow, and blue, the sea showing off its diamonds on the crests of its waves, and two shadows held hands at the water’s edge—Scott and Casey. It looked like a postcard. Her mom was sitting under the canopy, her legs stretched out from under it to get sun. She kept fooling with her floppy hat, tipping up the rim of it to people-watch. Faith snapped another photo.
They’d spent the whole day out on the beach. Nan had gone in after a few hours, the heat and sun finally getting to her. Faith had helped her back inside. When she did, she took her phone with her and showed Nan the photos. Nan made her promise to add them to the last photo album, and she said she would. At Nan’s direction, she’d opened one of the albums they’d compiled over the last week, and Nan turned to a photo of her and Faith’s grandfather. They were on the beach, fully dressed—he was wearing a white shirt, a thin, black tie, and trousers, and Nan had on a dark dress with a fitted waist and a flowing bottom that stopped just a little lower than mid-calf.
“That was taken right out there,” she said with a reminiscent smile. “We were going to lunch, and John wanted my mother to take our photo. I tried to hurry him, telling him we should go, but he’d insisted.” Nan ran her finger along the surface of the photo. “I’m glad he asked for that photo now.” She’d offered Faith a serious look. “I won’t be around forever. Promise me you’ll keep good records of your memories. You’ll be glad you did when you’re my age.” Faith promised, but Nan didn’t have to make her promise; she’d already decided that on her own.
When Faith had gotten Nan settled, she went back out on the beach. Casey and Scott were helping Isabella fill her buckets with seashells. Casey hadn’t left Scott’s side since he’d arrived, and Faith hoped with everything she had that after the vacation ended, Casey wouldn’t go back to the way things were and let work get in the way. One thing was certain: Faith was going to keep in touch with Casey after they left the cottage. She planned to call her sister all the time, ask her how her day was, and hear stories about Isabella.
They’d all decided to go out to dinner tonight. As Faith dressed after her shower, she could feel the slight heat on her skin from a day in the sun. She’d only needed a little powder, her face tan, her cheeks pink. She dabbed on lip gloss and slipped on her sandals. Casey finished up, and the two of them joined the rest of the family as they piled everyone into cars and headed to the restaurant.
Once they got there and were seated, Isabella colored in her kids’ menu, Nan showing her how to outline with a crayon and drawing unsteadily on the page. Isabella listened politely like a child twice her age, and then followed Nan’s direction, drawing over Nan’s lines to make them straight. Scott was relaxed with his arm around Casey, and her mom was sipping her cocktail.
“I’m not relocating,” Scott announced as he squeezed Casey’s shoulder, his arm still around her but more like a hug than it had been. Casey looked like the world had been lifted off her shoulders. She turned around and kissed him. There was a tiny eruption of excitement, Faith’s mom clapping her hands in delight. “I told my boss last night that I had a change of heart, and I’d prefer to stay in Boston. Luckily, I’m able to work remotely and I can stay where I am.”
Faith couldn’t be happier. She knew Scott well enough to understand what he was saying. He trusted that Casey was going to follow through. He believed she’d be better. It was a huge gesture, given the fact that he’d almost gone through with a divorce, and it showed how much he wanted it to all work out. Scott clearly loved Casey, and Faith knew, after spending time with Casey this week, that her sister loved Scott just as much.
Nan put her hand to her heart and looked down at Isabella. She was thinking the same thing that had just entered Faith’s mind: Isabella had her daddy back. As Isabella colored, making small talk with Nan, wriggling around on her knees and sipping her milk, she didn’t realize the magnitude of what Scott had just said. Isabella
would never again awaken in the night and not have her father.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Casey said, holding up her drink. “To family. May we have many more days like this one in our future.”
“Hear, hear!” Nan said, holding up her water. She motioned for Isabella to put her cup of milk into the air. Isabella was more than happy to follow her lead. She raised her drink—a paper cup with a plastic lid and a red and white striped straw. Nan touched hers to Isabella’s. “Cheers, my dear,” she said with a smile. They all followed, and then settled into the kind of chatter that only families have. It was great to have everyone together, but, to her surprise, it made Faith think about Jake. If only he could be there with them. She wished he were.
TWENTY-ONE
Faith was giddy with excitement but a little apprehensive at the same time. Today was her date with Jake. He’d asked her out, and that made her so happy that her hands were shaking. But she kept thinking about how things could change in a second whenever they brought up the elephant in the room. She really didn’t know how they were going to get over that hurdle, but she knew she wanted to give it another shot. She touched her lips, remembering what it felt like to kiss him. Even though they’d only been apart a day, she missed him. With her handbag on her shoulder, she waved to her mom and Nan on her way out of the cottage and tried to focus on the thrill of seeing him.
She waited outside, this time standing so she wouldn’t soil her linen trousers. The sun was so bright in the cloudless sky that she slipped her sunglasses on to avoid squinting. She didn’t have to wait long. Jake was soon pulling up in the Mercedes. He got out, the engine still running, walked around the car, and opened her door for her.
“Good morning,” he said with a grin as she slid inside.
“Good morning,” she returned, pulling her feet in. He shut the door and went around to his side of the car.
They drove down Beach Road, the sand blowing across it, the ocean hidden behind the dunes on Jake’s side of the car. She pretended to be waiting for a break to get a glimpse of the morning tide, but really, she was sneaking glances at Jake. He was clean-shaven today, his dark hair showing golden strands from days in the sun. She could see the crease on his cheek from smiling, and it warmed her. He smiled all the time.
“I know you like understated places, and you’re not up for a lot of glitz and glamor. But today, since it’s a date, I wanted to take you to a different beach—one of my favorites. It’s a little fancier than what you’re used to though. Tell me you’ll humor me.”
“Okay. Is it far from here?” She was very curious.
“Not terribly.”
He turned on to an exit leaving the Outer Banks and headed across the bridge toward the nearby town of Manteo.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’ve had breakfast.”
“Great. Me too.” He looked over at her, his eyes wanting to take her all in like they had that day on the boat—she could tell—but he quickly turned back to the road.
“What beach is it?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“It’s a surprise,” he smiled, and her stomach did a flip. Faith loved surprises. She just hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster like the Tides. She knew him a little better now, though, and she’d be able to talk to him if she felt uncomfortable.
As they drove, they were getting farther away from the coast, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where he was going, but then they snaked back around, and, after quite a few minutes’ drive, she realized she was at Dare County Municipal Airport. Jake turned the silver Mercedes into a parking spot and cut off the engine. On the runway was a small, white private jet, the steps lowered, awaiting passengers.
“We aren’t driving to this beach,” he said.
Jake greeted the pilot as they stepped up to the plane. They were talking a bit about the flight path, but Faith didn’t hear them. She was too busy looking at the gorgeous aircraft in front of her. She’d never been flown anywhere on a date before, let alone traveled on a private jet.
The pilot gestured for them to head inside, and he followed, taking his seat behind a door at the front. Faith couldn’t decide what to look at first—the beaded lighting behind a ledge outlining the top of the plane, the tan leather interior, the wood-grain tables with brass cup holders, the thinly carpeted floors in matching beige, or the televisions throughout. A silver bucket filled with ice sat on one of the tables, the neck of a bottle protruding from its center. Two crystal glasses sat beside it.
“Is this your plane?” she asked as they took a seat on either side of the table and belted themselves.
“No. I rented it, but I’ve flown with the pilot many times. I always make sure to get Thomas when I fly. I trust him.” The pilot came over the speaker and greeted them. He then said the skies were clear without a lot of turbulence, and he’d get them to their destination as quickly as possible. “You may want to hold on to your glass just until we’re in the air. It’s fine, but I’d rather not spill anything on you.”
Jake looked so relaxed as if this was totally normal, and she wondered if he was really comfortable with all of this. He had so much money that he could rent a jet whenever he pleased, drink champagne first thing in the morning, and fly wherever he wanted to go. Yet he chose to have his primary residence on the rural coast of North Carolina where he’d grown up. He was so down-to-earth that when he did show his wealth, it was startling.
When they got into the air, he pulled the champagne from the ice and wiped it with a towel. “We should be there in about two hours,” he said, the cork making a loud, hollow pop as he pulled it from the bottle. “That gives us a lot of time to talk.” He reached out for her glass, and she handed it to him.
As he filled her glass, the bubbles nearly jumping out of the top of it and dissipating in the air above, she got a good look at Jake Buchanan. In this setting, pouring champagne, wearing his Lacoste shirt and pressed shorts, his hair perfectly imperfect, his wealth was apparent. This was certainly a far cry from his paint-splattered overalls and tool-filled work truck. Which was more him: that work truck or this plane? She was willing to bet it was the work truck.
Even though she knew he probably didn’t care, she was glad she’d worn her most expensive outfit.
She took a sip from her glass, the bubbles fizzing up against her top lip, to try and calm her own nerves. Then, she decided to ask him. “What do you enjoy more: working on cottages and driving your work truck around town or flying to exotic destinations like we are now?”
Although he was more outgoing than she was, and he was open more often, he still hid his feelings sometimes. She felt that all this—the plane, the restaurants, the hard-nosed businessman—it was all in an effort to prove himself. His ex-wife had done a number on him, it seemed, and Faith wondered if he was trying to show her and everyone who knew him how successful he could be. But why? Didn’t he realize that he was perfect without all that?
“I like them both.”
“That’s a cop out. You have to pick. Which one would you give up?”
He took a swig of his champagne and tipped up the glass as if studying the bubbles, but she knew he was stalling. She knew what he was going to say; she just wanted to hear him admit it. “I’ll bet I can guess your answer. You just don’t want to say it.”
He looked at her, a slight smile on his lips. She knew she had him.
“What’s your guess?”
“You’d give up this plane before you gave up working on cottages and driving your work truck.”
“And what makes you think that?” He was suppressing a smirk.
“When you chose where you wanted to eat lunch on a regular day before you met me, you chose Dune Burger, but when you wanted to try and impress me, you chose the Tides Wine Bar.”
“Are you reading me now?”
“It seems so,” she said with a smile. “But it looks like you didn’t read me very well after all. You should’ve known that first
day you met me what kind of person I was, because I was at Dune Burger too.”
His face showed contemplation but it also showed fondness, and she knew she’d made her point. What she hadn’t expected was the kind of look she was getting now. And she knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking how right she was, and how good it felt to be with someone like him. She knew that because she felt it too.
By the time they’d finished the bottle of champagne and the small talk had given way to an easy, comfortable quiet, the pilot announced that they were a few minutes out from their destination. Faith looked through her window, and as far as she could see, the ocean stretched before her. It was amazing but she hadn’t once thought about her surroundings or taken a look at the view because she was so caught up in Jake. Out her window was the brightest color she’d ever seen, very different from the waters of the Outer Banks. It was a green-blue color, almost turquoise, swirling gray sand showing beneath it in patches. As they neared land, she could see boats scattered along the coastline. They were so small that they looked like snowflakes against a blanket of blue. As the plane descended, she started to make out buildings and trees, the flap on the wing going up and down as they neared them. It was totally silent except for the static noise of the engine as the plane neared the runway. Then, with a gentle bump, they were on the ground.
“Welcome to Key West,” the pilot said over the speaker and Faith locked eyes with Jake, making an effort to keep her mouth from wagging open. He’d taken her to Key West!
