Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

by Laurie Larsen

  They went to a rustic seafood place called the Crab Trap. It was a tourist favorite so they waited forty minutes for their table, but they passed the time easily with conversation.

  “I’ve got some exciting news,” Leslie said over her salad.

  Hank nodded.

  “Jasmine is coming back to the States next week.”

  He smiled. “Will you get to see her?”

  “Yes. She’s coming here next weekend. She’ll have over a week before she has to head back to school. Tim will pick her up from the airport and she’ll stay at his place for about three days, then she’ll drive down here for a little beach time. And Mom time.” Just saying it made her heart jump with excitement. She put her fork down. She was so excited, even eating lost its appeal.

  “And that’s before your school starts, eh?”

  “Yes! I’ll have uninterrupted time to spend with her. Guess I better work hard over the next few days to finish up my room and my lesson plans.”

  “So happy for you, darlin’. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Leslie ducked her head. “I’ve told her all about you.”

  “Oh boy. The good, the bad and the ugly, huh?” The topic didn’t seem to affect his appetite. He finished his salad and pushed the plate away.

  The joy of the evening took over and she let out a happy giggle. “I have a feeling she’ll like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

  “I’ll have to be on my best behavior.”

  “Don’t you dare. Just be yourself.”

  They ate their dinner, sharing three pounds of crab legs. Leslie liked crabmeat but had never done all the cracking herself. Hank reached over the table to show her the technique and after some practice, she was doing pretty well. However, when all the legs were devoid of meat, she had to wonder if it was worth all the effort.

  After dinner, they walked the beach outside the restaurant. They talked about how good life was, how much had changed for both of them since they’d met that day at the Old Gray Barn. Jeremy and Hank had reconciled a decade-long riff, resulting in healing and forgiveness for both of them. Jeremy was out of prison and getting his feet on the ground, preparing for the next stage of his life. Leslie started out taking a roadtrip with no destination and ended up making a life-changing move. Amazing what can happen when you put your faith in God and follow where He leads.

  They did not discuss, however, the two of them. It was the one topic they didn’t want to touch, for fear of it falling apart like leaves holding fragilely onto their branches in the last gasp of fall. He wasn’t just a person her age to chat with, to share similar life experiences with. She’d always known, from the moment she saw him, that he was a handsome man. Now, she’d started thinking of him in terms of being her handsome man. She enjoyed the sight of him, no matter if he was working, sweaty and dusty, or cleaned up and sitting across from her at a dinner table. It mattered not. She found him attractive either way.

  And what about that off-handed “love you, darlin’” comment he’d made a few weeks ago? There had never been a repeat, and she’d been too apprehensive about broaching the subject again. How would she, without feeling like a total idiot, or putting him on the spot?

  She loved the feel of her hand in his as they walked the beach, loved when he reached out to capture her hand. It was such a simple, yet romantic gesture. He wanted to touch her, to be connected with her. When was the last time Tim …?

  She gave her head a brisk shake at that line of thought. It didn’t matter what her relationship with Tim had been like, because her relationship with Hank was completely different. Tim had his faults, but he had been a good husband and father for a long while. She wasn’t going to completely trash all memories of her two decades with him. Because Tim was in her past. Did that mean Hank was her future?

  A sigh escaped her lips, and Hank turned his head toward her as they walked. “I get the impression you’re thinking something up there in that beautiful head. Care to share?”

  She smiled. “Not a thing. Enjoying the sand under my feet, my hand in yours, and the warm breeze in my face. How about you?”

  * * *

  Later that night after Hank left, Leslie arrived back at the Inn. The great room was a hustle bustle of activity. It appeared a new family, who had arrived today, were meeting there, lengthening their evening after a delicious dinner in Marianne’s dining room, not quite wanting to say good night yet.

  Leslie knew the feeling. She didn’t want tonight to end yet either. Her heart was bursting with excitement about how life was evolving: her new classroom, her new relationship, Jasmine coming to visit soon. Life couldn’t be any better. The only thing left on her list was to remedy the housing situation — find a more permanent place to live. But if that was the worst thing to worry about, then life was definitely good. Living full-time in an ocean front inn where most people go for vacation, was not a hardship.

  She skirted the edges of the great room, leaving the family to their celebration, went through to the back porch, then out onto the outdoor patio. Leaning over the railing, she let the sound of the massive ocean waves overtake her. She closed her eyes and thought about how much she loved the ocean, and how lucky she was to live here now.

  Mingled amidst the sounds of the waves, came another sound. A hammer pounding nails. A motorized machine, possibly a sander or screw driver. Someone was busy working on something. Creating something, possibly. Curious, Leslie pushed off from the railing and headed down the boardwalk toward the beach. When she reached the sand, she turned and walked back toward the inn. Led by the sounds of construction, she walked to the side of the Inn, then out to the front of it. There, bathed in a surprising amount of light by a makeshift set of lanterns, Jeremy worked. Pairs of wooden sawhorses held cut pieces of wood in various stages of staining. A huge piece of stained, finished wood lay on a tarp on the grass. He wore earbuds connected to thin wire cords. He concentrated on his task, rubbing sandpaper over a circular tube of wood, occasionally running his fingers over it, then back to the sandpaper. The electric sander provided rare help with a particularly rough patch.

  She stood nearby, but he hadn’t noticed her, so entranced was he in his work. She didn’t intend to spy on him, but she paused before announcing her presence, and studied him at work. Patient and diligent, working with the sandpaper, then rubbing lovingly with his fingers, transforming the wood from a rough natural resource to a useful thing of beauty.

  She waited until he laid down his tools. “Jeremy, hello again.”

  He looked up and saw her, gave her a wave and a grin. “Hi, yourself.” He took off a dusty ball cap and drew his arm over his forehead. Moisture glistened on his scalp, visible through his short-cropped hair.

  She gestured to the work he was doing. “Whatcha got going on here?”

  He glanced around at his makeshift workshop, pulling the buds from his ears. “I’m making wooden furniture. It sort of started as a time burner, a chance to practice a new skill. I found out I liked it, then I found out I’m pretty good at it. I made a few pieces for customers, and sold them.” He looked back her way and puffed out some air. “While I’m between jobs I figured I’d build up an inventory. Maybe sell them at craft fairs or make a deal with some stores in town. You know. See if anyone would want to partner with me.”

  She only saw the sadness in his eyes because she was staring into them, listening to him. Her mother’s heart broke at the position this young man was in, had put himself in. And he wasn’t complaining, no, not at all. He was taking responsibility and doing the best he could, with help from his family. But she couldn’t help but imagine where he’d be in life if he’d gone down the path intended for him, instead of the detour he’d thrown in his own way. Successful family business, take over the management from his dad, probably a big house, maybe a start of a family of his own. Instead, he was an ex-con tiptoeing back into life, trying to figure out where he fit and dodging one roadblock after another.

  She didn’t
know him well, and she wasn’t his mother, but she followed her maternal instinct. She took a few steps to him and pulled him into a hug. “Jeremy, you’re such a hard worker. You’re going to get back on your feet. Your dad will be proud of you again. And your mom would be proud, too.”

  His shoulders tensed at her last statement and she feared she’d gone too far. He stayed motionless while she patted him on the back, then stepped away. “Oh believe me Leslie, I’ve given neither of them any reason to be proud of me yet. But I intend to. Don’t you doubt that. I’ve got a ways to go to pay for my mistakes. And I won’t take a dime more from my family than I have to.” He turned and waved at the Inn. “My sister is so generous to let me stay here, but I hate taking up one of her rooms. I’ll help out by doing any home repair jobs she needs. I’ve asked her for a list.”

  “And you’re doing a lot over at your dad’s house.”

  He ducked his head. “It’s my fault Dad lost his big, beautiful house. He’s done paying the price for my mistakes. That’s my job now. So, although I can’t buy him his house back, I can sure spend time fixing up the one he’s got.”

  “You’ve made a lot of improvements. It’s made a big difference.”

  “Well, thank you, but no. It’s made a miniscule difference. But when I get done with it, it’ll be a nice place he can be proud of. I’ve got a lot of landscaping and yard work to do, some plumbing and general modernization. It’s fun. Heck, all I’ve got right now is time.”

  “So, you’re working on your dad’s house by day and building furniture by night?” She motioned to his work area.

  He turned back. “Yeah. This here’s gonna be a dining room table, a big jobber. It’ll seat twelve easily.” He took a few steps to the large piece of finished wood leaning against a pair of sawhorses. “This here’s the tabletop. I finished it tonight.” He drew the fingers of one hand over it.

  “It’s beautiful. Look at this grain.” Leslie came closer and took in the full beauty of the piece. “What kind of wood is it? I love the lighter blonde color.”

  “Maple. Dining room tables generally get knocked around, setting dishes on top of it and what not. Maple’s a durable hard wood that should work well.” He picked up one of the tube-shaped pieces. “I’m working on the legs now. Pretty simple design. The top, the legs, and a pedestal underneath to strengthen it. I picture it in a big beach house dining room or casual kitchen.”

  “I love it.”

  “Thanks. Marianne’s got a shed over here she’s offered to let me store things, but I need to start selling pretty quick here. To bring in cash for more projects, and to alleviate crowding.” He let his hands drop to his sides. “So, that’s what I’m doing.”

  “I’ll be happy to spread the word however I can.”

  His face softened. “I sure appreciate that. And Leslie, thanks for asking and being interested.”

  She gave him a squeeze, right at the elbow and decided to call it a night. “See you.”

  * * *

  The next few days were taken up with putting the finishing touches on her classroom, writing the first week’s lesson plans and talking to Jasmine on the phone. It killed her that she wasn’t in Pittsburgh to pick Jasmine up from the airport after such a monumental trip in her daughter’s life. But she had to remind herself, life was different now. Jasmine was practically an independent woman, she and Tim had split up their parenting duties, and Leslie had a life to live at the beach. That didn’t mean she couldn’t keep in close touch with Jaz as she made her way across the ocean, landed in the US, and finally got picked up safe and sound by her dad.

  Now, her daughter would have a few days to acclimate to the US, her dad’s new digs, and then … it was all about mom and daughter time.

  On Thursday, Leslie’s jitters were so intense she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Fortunately, her lesson plans for week one were done. The few tasks remaining in her classroom didn’t require a brain, just some hands, so she headed over there to finish up. Mrs. Robinson chided her for being ready almost a full week early, but when Leslie told her Jasmine was coming, the principal understood. Mothers have a way of knowing how children can turn plans around.

  Jasmine had said to expect her around five, but Leslie knew from periodic phone calls throughout the day, she was making excellent time. Leslie returned to the Inn by 3:30. At 3:40 her cell rang and it was Jasmine.

  “I’m here!” she sang. “I think. It’s rustic, isn’t it?”

  Leslie let out a whoop. “Well, it’s not your Marriott or Hilton.”

  “That’s okay. So I park in the sand lot, then up the stairs?”

  “Yep. I’m leaving now. I’ll meet you in the front.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The girl looked more beautiful than Leslie could imagine possible. Long, silky hair, waves of brunette bouncing over her shoulders as she walked, then broke into a run to meet her. Her smile was salve for a sore heart after months of being apart, and Leslie bathed in it before grabbing her and pulling her close. She sank her face into Jasmine’s hair, breathing in the scent of her, familiar yet different, a new perfume picked up in Paris, but still her little girl, now grown, back in her arms again.

  Leslie couldn’t help the tears sprouting in her eyes, and she didn’t even try to tamp them down. Jasmine wouldn’t mind the waterworks; in fact, she’d probably be crying herself when they parted.

  “I love you so much, Jaz. I’m so glad to see you,” she murmured and Jasmine squeezed her arms tighter around Leslie.

  Finally they parted and Leslie captured Jasmine’s face in her hands so she could study her closely, see how much this summer abroad had changed her, transformed her from the Jasmine she’d always known. She’d picked up a heavier makeup style this summer, but her skin was glowing and healthy and there was absolutely nothing that looked better to Leslie.

  “I’m so glad I’m here! You have to show me around. I can’t believe all the changes you’ve made this summer.” They strolled to the car and retrieved Jasmine’s suitcase. She grinned at her mom. “You sold the house, sold your furniture, quit your job, moved to the beach! Look at you, woman! Awesomeness!”

  Leslie chuckled. Not to mention the divorce. “One other big change this summer. I’m letting God lead the way. I’m listening constantly for His guidance, and I’m following His plan, not mine. I can honestly say, this is exactly where God wants me to be.” She chuckled. “How lucky am I?”

  Jasmine shook her head in amazement. “Wow. Lucky, indeed. I’m proud of you, Mom.”

  They headed across the street and climbed the front steps to the Inn. In the great room, Marianne bustled as usual behind the front desk. But she was aware of Jasmine’s planned arrival time, and the minute she saw them, she broke into a huge smile and came out from behind.

  “Marianne, I’d like to introduce you to …”

  “You don’t have to!” Marianne interrupted. “This child is your carbon copy. Jasmine, so nice to meet you.”

  “And this is Marianne, the innkeeper.”

  Jasmine grinned and they shook hands.

  “I’ve had so much fun getting to know your mother. So glad she’s sticking around now.”

  Leslie could feel her face blushing. “That’s so sweet of you.”

  Marianne continued, “You make yourself at home and enjoy the beach, you hear?”

  Jasmine nodded.

  “How long can you stay?”

  “My semester starts next week so I’m glad I have a few days to spend with her, see her new place, her new job, her new m…”

  Leslie nudged her. She knew Jasmine was going to say “man.” Her lips had formed around the m, and she could hear it popping out. And that would be a definite mistake, considering Marianne was the “m’s” daughter. Of course, Jasmine didn’t know that.

  Jasmine turned to her mom with a confused expression. “M … m … map!”

  Marianne frowned. “Her new map?”

  Jasmine stared at her mom. Leslie shrugged.
Jasmine turned back to Marianne. “Yes. Mom has trouble with directions. Can you imagine how she’d get along down here on her own, driving all over creation without a good map? I want to check it out, you know, make sure she’s safe.”

  Marianne laughed and Leslie joined her. “Oh, she’s safe. And she’s rarely on her own. Usually, wherever your mom is, my dad isn’t too far away.”

  Jasmine stared. “Your dad is …?”

  “Hank. Surely she’s mentioned …”

  “Oh! You’re Hank’s daughter! Of course. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “You’ll probably have a chance soon.” She turned to Leslie. “Is he coming over for dinner?”

  Leslie shook her head. “No, he wanted to give Jaz and me a chance to re-acclimate. He said he’d catch up with us tomorrow.”

  “That makes sense. Well, have a good stay.” She dipped her head to Jasmine, then went back to work.

  Their evening was spent walking the beach, Jasmine sharing endless stories about her summer in Paris, her excitement over interning in the most important city in the fashion world, her experiences that would launch a resume. They talked about Leslie’s summer in Pawleys Island, how she was looking forward to teaching a new class at a new school, her sense of security that God was looking out for her and all would work out the way it should.

  In the middle of the talk marathon, they attended dinner in the dining room and enjoyed a delicious meal of grilled shrimp primavera, salad and pecan pie ala mode for dessert. They ended up on the patio with a cup of decaf coffee before turning in to their shared room.

  As Leslie drifted off to a happy and satisfied sleep, she whispered, “Thank you God, for sending Jasmine here.”

  The next morning, they slipped into their suits and set up shop on the white sands of the beach, their reclining chairs tucked under a big umbrella, sunscreen, magazines and books, along with a cooler of cold drinks.