by Jenny Hale
“Jack Murphy,” he said, holding out a hand. “You must be Sasha.” His hair was combed, but the wind had clearly had its way with it on the walk into the restaurant, making the gold strands curl just a bit. He had a hint of stubble this evening, and with those green eyes of his, she had a hard time keeping herself from staring at him.
“And what is your name, sir?” he asked as he looked down at Henry.
“I’m Henry.”
“Hi, Henry,” Jack said, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Henry’s my son,” Alice heard herself say.
She always did that when she met people, especially men. It was her safety net, her way of getting it out there right then that any friendships that may start would be with both her and Henry. Sometimes, she could see the fear right away in a man’s eyes when she said it, and she was inwardly hoping it would be that easy with Jack, but instead, she found a quiet affection lurking in his face as if he could see all the difficult times she’d had at once. She swallowed and tore her eyes from him, focusing on Sasha, who was gawking at her, before snapping her mouth shut and biting back a grin.
“Is that so?” he said, looking down at Henry. “When Sasha texted me, she’d said to make reservations for three adults and a child, so I’ve come prepared.” Jack winked at Henry and pulled a conch shell from a bag on the floor. “Have you ever heard the ocean in one of these?” he asked, handing it to Henry and pulling out a chair for Alice. She sat down, willing Sasha with her glare to stop what she was thinking. But Sasha knew her all too well, and she could read her mind—she could always do that. And right now, Sasha could see right through her mannerly nods and polite thank-yous as Jack pushed in her chair. Sasha could tell that she liked how Jack looked at her, that despite her fears, she felt an explosion of happiness just having him there.
“What do I do?” Henry asked.
“Have a seat first.”
Henry climbed up on the chair next to Alice. Jack reached over and positioned the shell against his ear. “Close your eyes. Listen very carefully.”
Henry sat, motionless, the enormous pink shell pressed to his ear. Then his eyes snapped open, astonishment on his face. “I heard it!” He listened again, wrapping his little hand around the shell, allowing Jack to let go.
“Cool, right?”
“Yes!”
Jack went around and offered Sasha a chair, Alice hiding behind her menu to avoid any further mind reading. She grabbed the small pot of crayons the waitress placed on the table and pulled them forward for Henry, who’d been given a paper kids’ menu. It had a maze covering the entire page and Henry, brandishing a green crayon, immediately went to work on it, the shell now on the table beside him.
Music was flowing freely through the space, the cool breeze finding them just in time as Alice started to feel warm. There was something dreamlike about the Outer Banks. She’d always thought so as a child whenever she’d visited, but even now, she knew the magic was real. Her whole life, she’d been chasing happiness, and now that she was with Henry and Sasha here, she might have just found it. She looked over at her friend, and the sense of calm that had clearly enveloped her today made Alice wonder if Sasha thought so too.
“I think we should all have a fruity drink full of rum to celebrate new friendships,” Sasha said, raising a discreet and suggestive eyebrow at Alice. She wondered if Sasha was suggesting it to try to forget whatever it was that had been bothering her. She certainly was putting forth a lot of effort this evening, and it was clear that being happy was her number one goal. When Alice didn’t respond, Sasha turned back to Jack. “You’re a local, right? What do you recommend?”
“I’m not actually a local,” he said, picking up the drink menu and scanning the list. “I did live here, but I haven’t been back in a very long time.”
“Oh,” Sasha said, glancing over to Alice.
When he looked down at his menu, Alice shrugged inconspicuously to let her friend know that she didn’t think it seemed to bother him that Sasha had known he’d lived there. Maybe he’d thought she’d just guessed. The way Melly had spoken about him, it had seemed like people knew who he was, so maybe he was used to people knowing things about him.
“So did you just move here then?” Sasha asked, obviously covering herself, but also, she seemed a bit too interested, and it hit Alice as to what her friend was probably doing.
Poor guy. When Sasha set her mind to something, there was no stopping her, and it was clear by her glances at Alice and her questioning that she might be trying to play matchmaker. She’d done that before and it had gone horribly wrong. Once she’d set up a profile for Alice on some awful dating site and promised to do all the scouting work. The next thing Alice knew, she was out with a guy who wouldn’t stop talking about his cars, except to inquire whether they were going back to her place or his. “He’d seemed so nice,” Sasha had said. Don’t they all?
“I’m only in town for a short time. I’m down here finding a house for my dad and I’m working locally at the hospital—I’m a doctor—I’m doing a little research with a colleague.”
So Melly’s information was correct.
“I live in Chicago.”
Yeah, we know…
“It’s cold in Chicago,” Sasha said.
“It’s cold here. You haven’t experienced winter with coastal wind yet.”
“Touché.”
The waitress came to get their drink orders and Sasha leaned over to Alice. “I like him, I can already tell,” she whispered quickly. “And he’s a doctor!”
Clearly, his charm had made Sasha forget what Melly had said about him. “Great. Maybe you two could go out sometime. Before he leaves.”
“Would that be okay?” Jack cut in.
Both women stared at him blankly.
“Coconut smashes? That’s what I’d suggest for a rum drink. It’s got crème de coconut and two rums in it. Henry, they have chocolate milk if it’s okay with your mom.”
“It’s fine,” Alice said, turning to Henry. “Is that what you want?”
“Mm hmm.” He had hit a wall on the maze game printed on his menu three times, and she could see unusual tension in his shoulders. She took in his demeanor. Suddenly, he looked almost worried, frazzled. She’d never seen him like that before, and it surprised her.
“Need any help?” she asked carefully, picking up a blue crayon.
“No. I can do it.” His voice was quiet and controlled, but it was clear that he wasn’t keeping it together at all. With his lips pursed and his brows pulled together, he dragged the crayon down a long stretch of the maze, hitting another wall, causing him to take in a frustrated breath. Alice pointed to a spot that might lead out and he said as sternly as she’d ever heard a five-year-old, “I can do it.” He slid the paper away from her. He’d been fine just a second ago, but now it was as if everything had changed.
Henry had never acted like that before, and while he was still being respectful, keeping his voice down and obviously trying not to snap at her, he was definitely upset. She wondered if maybe he was just tired from such a big day, but she knew deep down what was going on because she’d felt it before. It was the kind of feeling that crept in during the wee hours of the night, lingering in the darkness: the feeling of being left by someone, not being good enough, of knowing that a piece of his life had ended, never to be recovered. But on top of all that, Henry had had a lot going on in the last few days and all the change might finally have caught up to him. Was Jack’s presence making it worse?
“Don’t think of it as dead ends,” Jack said calmly, breaking through her thoughts. He scooted his chair closer to Henry and looked down onto his paper. “You’re just finding all the paths that don’t lead out. Sometimes you have to discover those first before you find your way.”
Alice stared at him as Henry took in what he’d said. With a gentle hand, those same fingers that had caught the apples for her reached out and touched each dead end, counting t
hem. “You’ve found five so far! Five ways that don’t lead out. That’s some great research.”
Jack couldn’t have said anything better. That was her whole life: finding the dead ends first—her job, the men she’d dated, her life’s choices—before she found the way out, the way to her happiness. A wave of worry washed over her as she wondered if the magic she’d felt here had been because of what her grandfather had built rather than what was ahead of her. What if this wasn’t the way out and just another dead end? Gramps had always had everything together, and he was happy here. That was it. He never seemed to have any uncertainties at all. When he spent time with her, it was just the two of them, smiling, fishing, enjoying the salty air. Simple, like happiness should be.
“I did it!” Henry said, smiling and lifting his paper to show Jack.
“See? You didn’t need any help, did you? You did it all by yourself.”
The waitress came with their drinks and set them onto the table. Alice and Sasha’s both had a plastic shark jutting from the cup with a maraschino cherry in its mouth. She twisted the straw and took a sip, the sweet rum concoction like nectar.
They ordered just as a band started setting up in the corner—bongos, an acoustic guitar, a steel drum, and a couple of maracas. The regular music faded and the band tested their instruments as Alice took in her view of Jack, a white sailboat on the horizon behind him.
“I’ll bet it was great growing up here,” she said, only realizing when he met her eyes that she’d said it out loud.
“It was.” Jack smiled at her, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. It was some sort of local lager, light yellow and refreshing looking. He took a drink as the music started.
“What kinds of stuff did you do here?” Henry asked him.
He set his beer down and leaned on his forearms toward Henry. “I used to fish. A lot.”
“I love to fish,” Alice said. “My grandfather taught me how right here in this town.”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common,” Sasha noted.
“I like to fish too!” Henry piped up, cutting off Sasha’s line of conversation, thank goodness. “My grandpa taught me too!”
“Maybe we could all go fishing sometime before I leave,” Jack said.
“Yeah! I want to fish off a pier like Mom did. I’ve never done that,” Henry said, after telling Alice what he wanted to eat.
Jack turned toward her, thoughtfulness on his face. His hand was still, relaxed, and wrapped around his bottle of beer. “We definitely need to do that before I leave. I haven’t fished in so long that I don’t even have a fishing license. I could get one on the way home tonight at one of the shops along Beach Road.”
“I need to get one as well,” Alice said, pulling the maraschino cherry from her drink and popping it into her mouth. She set the stem down on her napkin. The salty air and the music were making her feel like she was on vacation. Would it be like this every day? Would the sea, the atmosphere, and the friendliness of the locals, make her feel like her whole life was spent on vacation? She hoped so. Alice and Sasha had a lot of work ahead of them before they’d be able to sit back and enjoy it, but she wasn’t going to think about work right now.
“Well, there are tons of little shops still open. After dinner, I can take Henry home while you and Jack find one to get your licenses so you all will be ready to fish whenever you can organize the time.”
Convenient.
Sasha was in overdrive. Her friend was liable to be planning their wedding by September. One thing she’d seen over the years, and something only Alice knew about her, was that whenever Sasha had something big bothering her, she didn’t know how to deal with it because she was always so optimistic about everything. And it was apparent by her laser focus making sure everyone was having a nice time that she was struggling.
* * *
“I’m jealous,” Jack said as he walked beside Alice on the beach. They’d decided to make the journey to the shop for their fishing licenses by foot via the shore, leaving both their pairs of shoes in his car. Henry and Sasha had gone to get ice cream—Sasha had claimed that it was research. “We should’ve gone with them for ice cream before setting out for the licenses.”
Alice smiled at him, the sand soft and cool under her feet.
Jack looked down at her, his face flushed from the alcohol at dinner. “I like Henry. He’s a good boy.”
“Thank you.” Alice turned her head toward the sea to let the breeze blow the hair out of her face. Her protective nature set in when Jack mentioned Henry, the picture of Henry’s face when she’d told him about Matt coming to mind. She watched the waves rolling angrily onto the shore, nearing them, trying not to let herself get too anxious over it. It was just a comment. Jack wasn’t close enough with Henry to hurt him, and she’d like to keep it that way.
“Is it just the two of you?”
Alice nodded, beating down the swell of Matt’s indiscretions in her subconscious before he could cause any more unease for her. She knew it was her mind’s way of reminding her heart that this walk tonight wasn’t real. It was only the thin slip of time when two people hadn’t gotten to know each other’s inner workings enough to realize they could never live together.
“I have Sasha, though. She’s my best friend in the whole world.”
“It seems so. She’s very good with Henry and she traveled all the way to the Outer Banks for you.”
An ocean wave came in higher than the others, sending white foam spraying over her toes, lightening the moment. She tried to dodge it, but she wasn’t fast enough. With a grin, Jack moved, not very subtly, further toward the next wave. His gently playful demeanor piqued her curiosity. Sometimes his actions were in complete juxtaposition to Melly’s description of him. It made her want to follow to see what he did next, so she wadded her sundress up in her fist, another wave rushing in toward their ankles.
Jack stopped and turned, facing the dune. Jutting out from behind the sea oats was a sign for ice cream, and she immediately thought of Seaside Sprinkles. Just above the sand, she could see the line of yellow umbrellas and the people gathered under them. There wasn’t an ice cream shop down by the pier where Gramps’s place was, and she knew it would be the perfect location for one. It just felt right.
“I wonder if that’s where they are,” Jack said.
Alice shrugged, lifting her eyebrows in optimism, but there were tons of ice cream shops dotting the Outer Banks. That had been one of her and Sasha’s discussions at the outset: how would they set themselves apart?
“Want to get one?” Jack asked. “My treat.”
“Okay,” Alice replied, looking for the familiar wooden public access steps to the street.
“Let’s walk straight up the dune,” he suggested.
“But we’re barefoot. It’s full of sand spurs.”
Jack looked thoughtful, the fizzing surf behind him the only sound. “There aren’t that many. You just have to keep a lookout for them.”
Alice considered this, unsure. When she was six, she had had to go to the bathroom and she had run from the beach through the brush to get to the bicycle shop. She fell down, those prickly little balls embedding themselves in her knees and feet as she got back up to run. She’d cried all the way to the house, and Gramps had to pick them off her one by one. He’d rubbed her skin with a special lotion to make the sting go away and then he’d made her chocolate chip pancakes for dinner—her favorite. She’d never forgotten.
“I’ll give you a piggy back ride.”
“What?” Alice laughed. But she thought again about the pain from those sand spurs. Her dress was flowy; it would be easy to climb up on him… “I’m too heavy,” she decided.
“A wisp of a woman like you saying you’re too heavy is an insult. At least make me feel like my four days a week at the gym aren’t for nothing.” Jack squatted down, his back to her, his broad shoulders ready for her to wrap her arms around. “Up,” he demanded playfully. She liked how easy it was to be aroun
d him. She thought about what it would feel like to embrace him. He turned to look over his shoulder. “I’ll get you a double-scoop.”
Alice put her arms around his neck and, with a little hop, she was on his back. Jack stood up, holding her thighs to keep her from sliding down, and as if she didn’t weigh a thing, he strode across the beach, her sandy, pink-pedicured feet dangling on either side of him.
He maneuvered the two of them around the largest dune, finding a small path where the sand had worn down. Carefully, he took deliberate steps but then flinched, his body tensing just slightly.
“You stepped on one, didn’t you?” Alice said, making her point.
“When I was a kid, I ran all over these dunes without a care in the world and never stepped on a sand spur. I come up one dune when I’m trying to make a good impression and trample one right away.” He shifted her weight. “It’s okay, though. I think it fell off my foot. I can hardly feel it—ow! Maybe not.”
Alice giggled, despite herself. He turned around to try to look at her. “Sorry,” she said. “I warned you, though.”
When they got to the smooth sand that led to the deck of the ice cream shop, he set her down and inspected his foot, plucking out the culprit and flicking it back into the brush. Then he led her up the stairs to the counter.
Alice looked around, but there was no sign of Henry and Sasha. She hadn’t thought they’d be lucky enough to stop at the same shop, but it was worth a look. She took in the color scheme, analyzing every choice the owners had made, reading the signs. This place was pretty busy, but it didn’t have the friendly feel she and Sasha were going for with Seaside Sprinkles. Would her ideas sink or float in this town? Her confidence faltered every now and again because she’d never done anything like this before. She didn’t have the big degree that Sasha had, but she tried not to let it get her down.
“What’s your favorite?” Jack asked, peering up at the list scrawled across a painted board above them.
