by Kay Correll
“Uh… I guess.”
Eva slipped in front of Ben and put her hands on the steering wheel. She leaned back against Ben and laughed. “This is fun. I’m captain of the ship.”
She noticed that Ben didn’t let go of the wheel while Eva played captain. He let her steer for a bit, his hands resting near hers.
She turned and looked out across the water, ignoring Eva, and a bit ticked off her sister had ruined the perfectly good time she was having with Ben. But then, that’s what Eva did best. Walk into a room and claim the undivided attention of every male.
“I think I’ll go back down.” Charlotte climbed down the ladder and went back to where she’d been sitting before.
Soon Ben—she was sure it was Ben, not Eva—deftly steered Lady Belle to the docks on one side of the island. Her father helped him tie up.
“We’re all set now. Time for that beach picnic.” Ben started gathering supplies.
“It’s so hot,” Eva complained.
“Of course we’ll picnic on the beach,” her father countered.
“I have a pop-up shelter. It should help keep off most of the sun,” Ben offered.
“Perfect. Let’s get this picnic started.” Her father filled his arms with chairs and the umbrella.
Ben got a beach cart out and loaded it with food and drinks and the pop-up shelter. They all trudged over to the sea side of the island and Ben set up the shelter. Her mother and sister grabbed chairs and sat under the shade of the pop-up. Ben spread out a blanket on the sand in front of the shelter. Charlotte helped him unpack the lunches and drinks.
The sea breeze kept the area pleasantly cool even though Eva complained about the heat and the sand.
As soon as she finished eating, she grabbed a plastic pail, wanting to escape Eva’s complaints. “I’m going to go shelling.”
“In this heat? Can’t we go back to the boat and the air-conditioning?” Eva fanned herself with a napkin.
“I’ll go shelling with you.” Ben jumped up and turned to her family. “We’ll be back soon. Then we’ll head back to Belle Island.”
“Take your time, son. I think I’ll grab another one of those sandwiches and maybe a beer.” Her father rummaged through the food, then sat down with his sandwich and beer.
Charlotte headed to the edge of the water and bent down and picked up a perfect shell. Well, it seemed perfect to her. A pink-lilac color lined its gentle curves. Ben fell into step beside her and they rounded the bend of the island, no longer in sight of her family. Once they were out of sight, she sucked in a deep breath of the fresh, salty air. This island felt like paradise to her. Sunshine. Waves. And they hadn’t seen one other person so far.
“Wanna go swimming?” Ben eyed her.
“I do.” She set down her bucket and peeled off her shorts and shirt. “Last one in is a rotten egg.”
Been whooped and rushed past her, dropping his shirt on the sand as he sped toward the water. With a leap, he jumped the waves and dove underwater. She laughed and splashed through the water, trying to catch up with him.
He erupted from the waves beside her and scooped her up, grabbing her around the waist and spinning around. She laughed out loud. A laugh that came from somewhere deep inside of her. Just pure joy. Enjoying the water, enjoying the sun. Enjoying… Ben.
They splashed and ducked and laughed like two little kids in the surf. When they finally tired, they sat on a rock near the beach to dry off.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in… well, I don’t know when I’ve had that much fun.” She stretched out her legs, balancing on the rock.
The sun shone on a few streaks of golden hair woven through Ben’s brown locks. His face was tanned with a bit of pink from the sun and breeze from today. He shook his head and droplets of water flew everywhere. She laughed again.
“Nothing like a quick dip in the sea.” He grinned at her.
“There isn’t. A pool is just—”
“It pales in comparison, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” She nodded, then sighed. She glanced up at the sky and saw some clouds approaching. Typical Florida afternoon. “I guess we should head back. I’m sure my sister is more than ready to get back to the air conditioning.”
He jumped up and reached out. She took his strong hand, and he pulled her off the rock. With a quick swoop, he grabbed her pail of shells and scooped up their clothes. She jumped on one foot slipping her shorts back on and pulled the shirt over her suit. He pulled on his shirt, covering his strong, tanned shoulders. Too bad. Not that she’d been staring at his hard abs or his broad shoulders…
They headed back to the shelter.
When they got back, Eva was pacing back and forth under the small canopy. “Where have you been? There’s a storm coming in.” She pointed to clouds gathering in the distance.
Ben looked at them and frowned. “Looks like we might get a small squall. They weren’t predicting much chance of them today but looks like they were wrong.”
Her father and Ben took down the canopy and gathered up all their belongings, and then they all headed back toward the dock. Halfway there, the heavens opened and rain began to pelt them.
Eva screamed like a little girl, held a towel above her, and raced for the boat. Her mother followed close behind.
“I’ve got these things. You get the ladies on board.” Ben nodded to her father who hurried after Eva and her mother. He turned to her. “You can go ahead, too.”
“I’m already wet from swimming. The rain won’t hurt me.” They tugged on the cart and made their way back to the dock. Ben made quick work of loading all their things back on the boat, then reached a hand to help her board.
They went into the cabin where Eva was curled up in a blanket. Her mother sat with another blanket thrown around her shoulders and didn’t look pleased. At all. They both looked at Ben like the weather was his fault.
“I’ll get us back to the marina. It might be kind of a rough ride, though.”
“Are you sure the boat will be okay in this storm?” Eva frowned.
“She will. She’s a sturdy one.”
“I’ll go untie her.” Charlotte offered. Ben nodded.
She untied the bow, then the stern, and her father helped her back on board. Ben steered them away from the dock, and they headed back out to sea.
The boat rocked and bobbed on the waves. Eva turned positively green. “This is the worst day ever,” she moaned.
Charlotte didn’t agree. It had been a… fabulous day.
The storm blew over as quickly as it had come up. By the time they reached the marina, the sun broke through the clouds. She turned to Ben and smiled. “Such is Florida weather.”
“I’m sorry we got caught in that storm though. It was a rough ride back. I don’t think Eva feels very good.” He expertly docked the boat and one of the marina workers tied them up.
Ben hurried to help her family disembark. “I’m sorry about the rough weather, Eva.”
“She’ll be fine. Just needs to get on solid ground for a bit,” her father answered. “I’ll get the women back to the inn and they can have a little rest.” He looked up at the sky. “I think I might still be able to get in nine holes of golf this afternoon.”
Charlotte watched her family head down the dock. Without saying a word of goodbye to her. Nor did she hear Eva thank Ben for taking them out on the boat, even though it had been her idea.
Ben climbed back onboard. “I don’t think that day went exactly as Eva had planned.”
Charlotte laughed. “Not quite.”
Ben looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Now that the weather is nice again, do you want to join me for a drink?”
“Sure, where?”
“I was thinking right here on the boat…”
“That sounds perfect.”
“How about some of your sweet tea?”
“Yes, that sounds nice.”
“I’ll grab some towels and finish drying off the seats and we can sit b
ack here and watch the world go by.”
“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
Ben headed into the cabin, thinking about the day. He didn’t know what had changed over the years. Eva was so different, or maybe he’d changed, but the Eva on this boat trip was not like the Eva in his memories. Though, he had to admit, even soaked from the rain, she still looked beautiful. He didn’t know how some women did that.
He poured the tea and grabbed a couple of towels. Now Charlotte, she looked… soaked. And adorable. Her face had pinked up, and her coppery locks of hair danced in the wind, drying from the swim and the rainstorm. And she seemed unfazed by all of it. Which he also found adorable.
He walked back to the stern, handed her a glass, then quickly dried off the seats. They sat facing the bay, with their feet propped up on a cooler.
He watched while she took her first sip of the icy tea.
“Oh, that’s good.” She wiped her mouth and grinned at him.
“Nothing better than a cold glass of sweet tea on a sunny afternoon.” He took a sip of his.
They watched a few boats head past them out on the bay. A center-console boat laden with fishing rods. A tri-toon with a group of laughing teens. A sailboat came into the bay under motor.
He sighed. He loved everything about the marina and the bay and the gulf. He couldn’t wait to finish up the renovations and move aboard the Lady Belle.
“This is just wonderful,” Charlotte said after a while. “I could sit here for hours and just watch the boats and the clouds.”
He pointed over between the docks. “Looks like the manatees have come to play, too.”
Charlotte stood and looked where he was pointing. “I love watching them. They are so big and, I don’t know—so homely they’re beautiful?”
He laughed. “Haven’t heard them described that way, but I’ll give you that.”
She sat back down beside him, her fingers grazing his as she settled on the seat.
The thought shot through him that he wanted to entwine his fingers with hers, and he stared down at their hands, side by side on the seat.
Where had that thought come from?
They’d been friends in high school. Not even close friends, they just ran with the same group.
And now he wanted to hold her hand?
She lifted her other hand to shield the sun from her eyes and looked out at the water. Then she took her hand that was next to his and reached for her glass.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
She turned to face him then, her face serious. “So, you know what you said to me the other day? About I’m the only one who needs to be proud of myself?”
He nodded.
“I’ve decided to have a talk with my family. They don’t really count my artistic endeavors as work and discount everything I do in that field. But it’s time I quit listening to all that. I love painting. And Robin came up with the idea that I could paint some furniture for sale in a shop on Oak Street to help bring in some more cash.”
That surprised him. He’d seen articles regarding her work, and he thought she’d probably made some pretty decent money off of sales of her paintings. He wondered why she needed the cash, but it wasn’t really a question he could ask.
“I remodeled some cottages for Lil and redid some furnishing. I really enjoyed it. I can buy some old tables, dressers, and chairs and paint them. I did one for our cottage. A dresser for my room and painted some seashells on it. If they want things like that for sale at the shop, maybe I could sell there on commission.”
“Bella’s store?”
She nodded. “I’m sure my family will still not think it’s a fitting way to earn money. It’s not a job like Eva’s—I heard she’s up for some big promotion—but creating things is what I like to do. It’s what makes me happy.”
“Being happy in your work is important. I love working here at the marina. Love everything about it. Sometimes I get tired of going to boat shows and traveling to the other marinas and things like that. I’d much rather be here tinkering with a boat.”
“Does your brother work here too? He was younger than us by quite a bit, right?”
“No, he lives in Michigan. He didn’t want anything to do with the marina and couldn’t wait to leave the island.” Ben laughed. “Yet, he lives a five-minute walk from Lake Michigan, in a small town up there.”
A phone chimed, and he waited while Charlotte dug it out of her tote. She checked the message and frowned. “Eva texted. She said that Camille needs to know if we’re all coming to her mother’s party on Friday. I was thinking of begging off, but that seems cowardly. I used to go to big parties all the time in L.A. to get my name known. There’s no reason I can’t do that here, too. These are people that live in the big houses on the island or mainland. They’re from all around here and Mississippi. Wouldn’t hurt to meet them.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Eva said Camille said we could each bring a plus one. But then she texted that of course I wouldn’t have one…” She turned and looked directly at him. “Would you… I mean… it wouldn’t really be a date or anything, but would you be a plus one? Would you go with me?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “I’m not much on fancy parties, but, yes, I’ll go with you. I’ll probably feel all out of place among the fancy people.”
Charlotte laughed. “And I’m sure my sister will let me know that I’ve dressed inappropriately and tell me anything and everything I’m doing wrong.”
“Sounds fun.” He gave her an exaggerated grin, then rolled his eyes.
“I’ll text her back and say I’m coming with a date. Well, not a date-date.” She looked up quickly from her phone.
He smiled and nodded. Though, to be honest, he wouldn’t mind calling it a date...
When she finished the text, she reached out and touched his hand. An electric shock spiked through him and he swallowed. Then swallowed again.
“Thanks, Ben. I appreciate it. Always helps to have a friend at your side at stuff like this.”
She took her hand away, and he brought his now lonely hand up to rub his chin.
A friend. She thought of him as a friend.
Chapter 12
Robin walked into Paul Clark’s gallery and looked around at the art on display. There were paintings and photographs and a section of carved wooden sea captains. She smiled and walked over to a foot-high carving of a sea captain with a long yellow slicker and rain boots. He looked just like she imagined the old man who used to run the lighthouse might have looked on a stormy day.
“Robin, how great to see you.” Paul walked up to her. “What brings you into the gallery?”
“I was wondering if you could give me Bella’s phone number. I have a friend—Charlotte Duncan—do you remember her? Anyway, she’s moved back here to the island and we’re rooming together at Bayside Bungalows. She’s an artist, and she’s trying to earn a bit more cash. She did some wonderful work for Lil at the inn, painting furniture. Very coastal looking. I thought I could connect her with Bella and maybe she could do some furniture on consignment for her shop.”
“Bella’s up in Comfort Crossing right now at her main shop, but I’ve got one of her cards right over here.”
She followed Paul to a small table in the back corner. He handed her Bella’s card. “She’s always looking for unique items to sell in the shop.”
“Thanks.”
“You said your friend was an artist.”
“She’s a very talented painter.”
Paul’s eyes brightened. “I’m doing a showing of local artists. Do you think she’d be interested? I just had a cancellation. The artist can’t get the work to me in time. So now I have some wall space left to fill. I really need to get things wrapped up in the next few days, though. What kind of paintings does Charlotte do?”
“Right now she’s working on a series of paintings of the beach and town. They’re fabulous. When you look at them, it’s like you can im
agine yourself right in the scene. They are so… I can’t describe them in proper artistic terms, but they are emotional and… well, I think they’re fabulous.”
“That sounds perfect and would fit in well with this exhibit. Do you think I could see her work?”
“We could head to the bungalow and see it now.” Had she really just suggested that? But what was that saying? A bird in the hand, etcetera? Or was this more strike while the iron was hot? Anyway…when Charlotte found out she might kill her… But she was going to do it anyway. Char just needed a little nudge to get back in the game.
“I do have time now. Would you care to walk? I could use the fresh air.”
They headed over to the bungalow, leisurely walking down the sidewalks, in and out of the sunshine. They chatted about the weather and Lil’s recovery and the new butter crumb muffin Julie was offering at The Sweet Shoppe. Typical small-town chatter. She smiled as they ambled along. She loved the easy pace here on the island and even loved how everyone knew everyone else’s business.
Well, usually loved it. Sometimes it was hard to get much privacy, but she’d gotten used to it over the years.
They got to the bungalow, and she opened the door. “Charlotte? You here?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted Charlotte to be here or to be gone. Anyway, silence greeted her so that answered that question.
“Come in.” She led Paul to the brightly lit room Charlotte was using as her studio. She flipped around some of the paintings and leaned them against the walls around the room, all the while hoping she was doing the right thing. Charlotte was just too critical of her new work and didn’t think she was ready to show it. That agent had done a number on her confidence, and her parents being in town wasn’t helping things.
Maybe if Paul liked it, Charlotte would begin to believe in her work again.
Paul walked around the room, looking at them with a critical eye. His face broke into a wide smile. “These are fabulous. You were right. Do you think she’d pick a handful and we could hang them in the exhibit? I could talk to her about pricing them, or maybe she already has a figure in mind. I usually get quite a few sales from these local shows.”
