Forever Beach

by Shelley Noble

  “I have fun.”

  “Working all day, and taking care of a child the rest of the time?”

  “That’s just the way I like it,” Sarah said. She really didn’t want to get into a discussion of what her life should be like with Alice, who had a way of making even compliments sound depressing.

  “You know if things don’t work out with Leila, you’ll have time to do other things. Could spend more time in the store, more time with your friends. Maybe get Wyatt to propose to you. You know it’s hard to get a man interested when you come as a package.”

  Sarah considered telling her that if she had more time in the store, she could cut back Alice’s hours. But she bit her tongue. Alice meant well. Always attempting to make the glass seem half full but invariably making it practically empty.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not looking for a man.”

  “Wyatt won’t wait forever, you know.”

  Sarah just stared at her. Is that what they all thought? That Wyatt was waiting for her to do what? Dump Leila back into the system? They had never discussed the future. She hadn’t thought he was interested in anything but the now. And she didn’t have time for anything more. She wasn’t even sure she wanted more. Did he? She certainly wouldn’t ask Alice her opinion, though she was sure she had one.

  “Have a good weekend,” Sarah said. “I’ll just go out the back.”

  She showered and changed into capri pants and a boatneck tee. A little dressy for Saturday night at a beach bar, but perfect for the trendy bar in the shopping district.

  She was ready when Jenny and Leila came in the front door. “Mom already fed us and sent us home with Rice Krispie treats,” Jenny said. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t eat too many.”

  “I know you will,” Sarah told her. She knelt down by Leila. “I’m going out for a little while with Karen and Reesa. I’ll be back soon.”

  Leila’s lip quivered and Sarah’s resolve slipped.

  “Mama says you’re to go right out to the car, didn’t she, Leila?”

  Leila nodded.

  Sarah kissed her. “You’re my sunshine,” she said, waved, and left, wondering if this was how ordinary parents behaved or if they would stay at home, considering the situation. By the time she got to the car, she was definitely having second thoughts.

  Sarah opened the back car door, but instead of getting in, she looked through the opening to where Karen and Reesa sat in front.

  “Oh no you don’t. Get in now,” Karen said. “We’ve already prepped Leila about you coming with us. And that you’ll be back. Thank you very much. Isn’t it nice to have friends with all this professional expertise?”

  Sarah nodded and climbed into the backseat.

  “It will be fine,” Reesa said, craning around to see her from the front. “But don’t feel weird; I felt the same way when I walked out on Michael last night.” She grinned suddenly, looking years younger and light-years happier.

  They found a parking space around the corner from the bar. Several groups were standing on the sidewalk and waiting on the stairs going down to the bar.

  “We have reservations,” Karen said, as she led them under a green neon sign that read TOOMAY. It was one of those one-name “scene” places, crowded but not so crowded you couldn’t find your friends or meet new ones, loud but not too loud to hear the people at your own table or standing at the bar next to you. Plenty of singles but not heavy-handed in the pickup scene. And expensive.

  “How do you get reservations in a bar?” Reesa asked.

  “I called Larry Swanson and told him to save us a table.” Karen smiled a big smug smile. “It pays to know people in the booze business.”

  Larry was standing at the bar and came to greet them. He was one of the regulars at Ocean Brew. It was one of the things Sarah loved about her town, that all the businesspeople supported one another. And were friends of a sort.

  He led them over to a bar table that had a reserved sign on a folded piece of cardboard. It was handwritten. “I made it just for you,” Larry explained. “I’m surprised to see you out on Saturday night, Sarah. This calls for champagne.”

  “Oh no,” Karen said laughing. “Tonight we do girly drinks, preferably pink with little umbrellas in them.”

  “Piña colada with grenadine?” Larry suggested. “Or choose from one of our specialty drinks.” He neatly produced a plastic carte for them to read. “I’ll send a waiter over posthaste.” And he made a beeline for a party who was just entering.

  They decided on the piña coladas. They came frozen and pink in large wide glasses with paper umbrellas and a wedge of pineapple on the rim.

  They drank and laughed and ordered another round. Sarah felt a little buzz though Karen had told the waiter to go light on the liquor since she had to drive home and none of them were big drinkers.

  Sarah would have walked home to clear her head, but Karen had to pick up Jenny. They made it back to Sarah’s without mishap.

  When Sarah came inside, Jenny was curled up on Leila’s bed. Leila was nestled up against her and Jenny’s arm was around her. Jenny’s eyes were wide open.

  “She had a bad dream. She’s okay. She went back to sleep.”

  “You handled it great, Jenny. Thank you. Your mom’s outside.”

  Jenny eased off the bed. Leila whimpered and opened her eyes. “Mommee,” she said, starting to cry, and held out her arms.

  “She was okay, really she was,” Jenny said.

  “I know. She just wants her mommee. See you tomorrow at the barbecue?”

  Jenny nodded, still looking worried.

  “Really, Jen, It’s all right.”

  Jenny collected her things and left. Sarah gathered Leila onto her lap and began to sing her back to sleep.

  REESA WOKE THE next morning without a headache. Which was amazing since after she and Karen came back to Karen’s, they polished off half a bottle of wine. She was a little disoriented. It was strange to wake up in a different bedroom than her own.

  She never traveled anymore. Michael didn’t want to go anywhere except fishing, or bowling or sometimes camping with the boys when they were around. But lately he hadn’t even wanted to do that.

  Reesa settled back in the bed, enjoying the light green walls and the floral comforter and matching curtains of Karen and Stu’s guest room. It was so cheerful. Her bedroom at home was dark, with a huge heavy bed and huge heavy furniture. What were they thinking when they bought such overpowering pieces? That they’d survive a lifetime of hurricanes?

  They’d be lucky if they survived this marriage. But she wasn’t going to think about her problems today.

  Karen and Reesa had spent yesterday at the beach and Reesa had managed to get a little tan and one strip of sunburn where she’d missed with the sunscreen. Battle scars, she thought. She was enjoying herself. At least as long as she could keep the niggle of guilt away. She wondered what Michael was doing, which was stupid. He’d be up by now, would have already eaten a bowl of cereal. The bowl would be lying in the sink for her to wash before she went into the office to catch up on paperwork on her day off.

  Today she was playing hooky. Somebody else could do the paperwork for a change. She was going to a barbecue and then . . . then she supposed she’d have to go home. Face Michael’s recriminations, if he even noticed she was gone. Of course he would. He’d be making his own meals.

  Reesa sighed and pushed the covers away, determined not to let her regular life rain on her weekend. She showered and dressed in blue Bermuda shorts she’d found at the bottom of the bottom drawer of her dresser. And they still fit, though she couldn’t remember wearing them in years. And a flowered button-up shirt that was a little frumpy but was colorful and she was going for upbeat this weekend. She even put on lipstick before she padded out to the kitchen to find Karen making pancakes and Stu standing over a cast-iron pan filled with sizzling bacon.

  “Hey, girlfriend. How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a log,” Reesa said. “It f
elt great. Can I help with something?”

  “Nope. We’re almost done. You can call the kids in. They’re in the den.”

  Reesa could hear the television blaring.

  “Breakfast’s ready,” she said into the family room. Four faces turned in her direction.

  “Breakfast,” she repeated over the blare of some superhero fight scene. Rory clicked the remote, and four children and one very large dog padded into the kitchen and took their places at the table in the breakfast nook.

  The dog was banished to the backyard.

  “Once he ate a whole plate of bacon,” Tammy told her.

  “And he threw it up on the carpet,” Bessie added. All of them but Jenny made upchucking noises. Jenny rolled her eyes.

  “So when the bacon comes out, he goes out,” Stu said as he set a plate with a stack of pancakes leaning precariously to one side on the table.

  “I told Wyatt to expect us around four,” Karen said. “I don’t want to make too late of a day of it, since the kids have camp tomorrow. He’s taking a party out for diving at one. He said if he wasn’t back to start without him.”

  “Are you sure he doesn’t mind us coming over there?” Reesa asked.

  “No, plus he knows he’ll get the leftovers. We’ll go to the store after breakfast. Pick up steaks and salad stuff and maybe make some potato salad.”

  The kids tore through the pancakes and bacon like they hadn’t eaten in days and asked to be excused before rushing back to the den where the television immediately resumed to whatever they were watching, only several decibels louder.

  Karen shook her head. And began carrying dishes to the sink.

  “Stu, will you load the dishwasher so Reesa and I can get an early start at the grocery store? It’s bound to be mobbed today. Perfect beach and barbecue weather.”

  “Only if you’ll pour me another cup of coffee.”

  Karen poured him a cup of coffee. He grabbed her around the hips and hugged her.

  Reesa looked away.

  “Get on with you. Reesa and I have some heavy grocery shopping to do.”

  She batted his hand away. “Do we have enough soda?”

  “Yeah. Wyatt said he had beer and some wine. But if you girls want something fancier, you’d better pick it up at the store.”

  THEY DROVE TO a big discount store. One that sold everything from televisions to lettuce and shellfish to cleaning supplies. Even when the kids had been little, Reesa had never shopped in bulk, and it was sort of awe inspiring.

  Karen pushed the cart right to the food section, which was as large as any small grocery store. The shelves held condiments all in oversized containers. Gigantic boxes of cereal . . .

  “What do people do with a gallon of mayonnaise?” Reesa wondered out loud.

  “Make a lot of sandwiches?” Karen returned. “I don’t shop here all the time. But I figure with my brood and you guys, and no telling how many Wyatt will invite while he’s working today, it’s best to be prepared.” She grabbed hamburger and hot dog buns and two huge bags of chips.

  They moved onto the dairy case for slices of American and blocks of cheddar. And Reesa became aware of a young woman standing at the end of the aisle. She seemed to be looking right at Reesa and Karen.

  But Reesa had often stood in the center of a grocery aisle staring off into space trying to remember what she’d meant to buy. And from the pile of food and paper products the woman had in her cart, and the two young children vying for her attention, it would be easy to forget smaller items.

  They turned into the meat aisle. Karen picked out a five-pound package of hamburger. “I’ll freeze some of this,” Karen said. She added a family pack of wieners and moved over to peruse the steaks.

  She put four packages in the cart. “Do you know that woman?” she asked, looking past Reesa’s shoulder.

  Reesa turned. The same woman was looking down the aisle. She smiled tentatively and rolled her cart toward them.

  “I don’t think so.”

  The woman stopped her cart next to theirs. She was in her early thirties, thin and wiry. There was a thick scar, like a beige thunderbolt, across her cheek.

  And something niggled at Reesa’s memory.

  “Mrs. Davis?”

  “Yes?” Reesa quickly flipped through her mental Rolodex. Young woman, scar, two children. Victim of domestic abuse? She still has her children. Did Reesa help her get her children back? Maybe it was someone she met totally unrelated to work. Fat chance. She hardly ever did anything but work.

  “You don’t remember me.”

  “Sorry, I—” She did look familiar, but Reesa just couldn’t place her.

  “I’m Tanisha Clark. You took me out of my home, oh, about fifteen years ago.”

  Reesa tensed. Someone she’d removed as a teenager. Now what would happen? Would the woman start screaming obscenities in front of the children, become violent?

  Karen stepped into the silence. “Hi.”

  But Reesa had remembered. Tanisha. She’d been bleeding when Reesa put her and her three sisters under the protection of the agency.

  “You haven’t changed a bit,” Tanisha said.

  Reesa breathed out a laugh. “Well, you have. And of course I remember you.” Tanisha had fought like a wildcat as Reesa pulled her away from the doorknob she was clinging to. She’d clawed, kicked, spit, and suddenly Reesa could remember it as if it had happened last week.

  She swallowed. She had nothing to say, nothing to apologize for. She’d done her job, the best she knew how, and there it was.

  “You saved my life that day, Mrs. Davis. I never had a chance to thank you. Well”—Tanisha smiled sheepishly—“it took me a long while to realize it. But you were right, and even though I didn’t make it easy, you didn’t let me fall. And I just wanted to thank you now.”

  She started to walk away.

  Reesa, who had been gripping the grocery cart in stunned silence, started to go after her. “Wait.”

  Tanisha stopped and turned; the two kids pulled at her to go, but she waited for Reesa to catch up to her.

  “Are these your children?” Reesa smiled at them, a boy and a girl.

  “Yes, they are, both adopted. My husband and I both came through the system. We both finished high school. He works up at the hospital and I’m going to school nights for my nursing degree. Right now I take care of kids, five mornings a week.

  “We have this cooperative center down on Eighth Street. It’s day care and a learning center for working mothers; it’s subsidized, but we’re always doing things to make more money. It’s called Hands Around the World. We call it Halfway to H House, ’cause one way goes to hell and the other goes to heaven and we just sometimes feel stuck in the middle.

  “But at least the kids get some food and some learning, and we have a doctor come in once a week. I think you’d like it. I have a card if you’re interested in seeing what we’ve done. If you’d like to come by sometime.”

  “I’d love to,” Reesa said and took the card without thinking. She wanted to hold this moment just like it was. Hopeful that someone she’d tried to help had made good—at least in her own mind. Reesa wasn’t sure she wanted to see the reality of Tanisha’s life up close.

  But before she could start making excuses, Tanisha said, “Great, how about next Thursday?”

  You didn’t let me fall. The words kept echoing in Reesa’s mind as they drove back to Karen’s. You didn’t let me fall.

  She’d been falling herself lately. But no more. Somehow, some way, she’d get back to what she wanted her life to be.

  Maybe Tanisha Clark was her wake-up call. Thursday, she’d said. It wouldn’t hurt to swing by and check out Hands Around the World.

  SARAH AND LEILA were just crossing the street to Wyatt’s house when the Wolcotts and Reesa pulled up to the curb in front and Stu managed to maneuver his SUV into a space that was more suited to a MINI Cooper.

  “Bessie,” Leila squealed and tugged at Sarah’s hand to hur
ry.

  “We have to look both ways first,” Sarah said. They did and then crossed the street. As soon as they were on the opposite sidewalk, Jenny, Tammy, and Bessie piled out of the car, took Leila by the hand, and they all ran up the driveway to Wyatt’s backyard.

  Sarah stopped at the car.

  “Very impressive,” Sarah told Stu as he came around from the driver’s side.

  Karen handed her a big bowl of potato salad. “A man of many talents.”

  “And don’t you forget it, babe,” he said and hauled a large red cooler from the back.

  “Wow,” Reesa said, stopping on the sidewalk to admire the front of Wyatt’s house. “Wyatt lives here?”

  “Owns it,” Stu said.

  “Inherited it,” Karen added. “And has to rent out the top two floors to pay the taxes.”

  “Still, it’s gorgeous. I would never in a million years think of Wyatt living in a place like this.”

  Sarah knew what she meant. Wyatt had repainted the house himself; a medium gray with forest green shutters and intricately carved gable boards picked out in burgundy. It fit right in with the rest of the neighborhood until you went inside.

  “Yeah, kind of girly for a tough guy like Wyatt.”

  “I think it’s gorgeous,” Reesa said.

  They walked down the driveway to the backyard. Wyatt’s SUV was gone.

  “Guess we’re a little early,” Sarah said.

  “We’ll just get started without him. He said he’d leave a key.” Karen put two bags of groceries on the porch floor and rolled a brass Buddha to the side. “And there it is. Sarah, you want to open the door for me?”

  Sarah reached for the key. She didn’t like taking liberties like this, especially with Wyatt. And she didn’t want anyone to think she had free rein of his house. Which she didn’t.

  “Are you sure it’s all right to do this?”

  “Open the door,” Karen cajoled. The groceries she’d just picked up were beginning to slide.

  Sarah opened the door, and the kids all crowded inside.

  “Don’t make a mess,” Karen said. “Jenny, make sure it’s childproofed. Rory, you too. Help Jenny watch the little ones going up the steps.” She turned to Reesa. “The turret stairs. There’s a little room at the top where you can look out. Total waste of space if you ask me.”