“One more thing. If Dad was still alive, he’d be devastated to discover he had a daughter he didn’t know about. He would be delighted too. He would’ve loved you and you would’ve loved him. We would all have been the better for it—having you as part of the family. He wouldn’t have let Laurel get away with what she did, and I won’t either.”
Juli stopped her. “Wait a minute. Don’t be hasty. She might’ve made mistakes, but she’s still your mother. She brought you up. She cared about you. You can’t throw that away.”
“You say that because you don’t know what she’s done to me, nor what she did to you.”
“What did she do to me?”
Frannie looked down. “I wasn’t going to tell you this.” She swallowed, wishing she hadn’t walked herself into this corner. “Frances brought you to the house. I think you were about five. I wasn’t there, nor was Dad. Frances asked to see Dad and Laurel sent her away. She let Frances believe Dad would contact her, but she never told him.”
She squeezed Juli’s hand. “I found this out very recently, but don’t worry, she’ll be sorry.”
She started to step away. Juli spoke her name softly, “Frannie.”
Frannie stopped again, almost annoyed. She was ready to deal with Laurel. Now.
Juli said, “You’ve been to church. My church and I’m sure other churches.”
“Yes, with Laurel, and for all the wrong reasons, so don’t give her any credit for that.”
Juli shook her head. Her eyes were stern, but her voice was gentle and persistent. “You know the Lord said vengeance belongs to Him.”
Bitterness rose in her throat. It tasted of bile. She touched her stomach, asking it to stay quiet while she did what she had to do. She struggled to keep frustration out of her voice.
“Are you kidding me? Let’s just say this is an instance of helping oneself. I’m cutting her out of my life.”
“Maybe. What I’m saying is you can only control yourself. Make the decision to rejoice when things are happy, be patient when things are bad, and find your answers in prayer. You’ll be amazed at how different the world will look to you, it will even feel different, when you find that peace within yourself.”
She didn’t want to hurt Juli and their brand new relationship, but this was ridiculous. This was the real world. She pulled away.
Juli looked at her with those deep blue eyes so like her father’s that it struck into Frannie’s heart like the point of knife. She breathed in and the air felt ragged coming into her lungs.
“Before you deal with your mother, promise me you’ll read Romans 12:12. It’s saved me more than once. Please.”
“Juli, I wish I could, but this has to be done. You don’t understand.”
“I understand that harboring bitterness and anger is like poison in your body. You have to let go of it or it will destroy you.”
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know. That’s why I have to deal with it right now, once and for all. Will you wait for me here?”
She left Juli standing on the beach. She was ready to deal with Laurel. She crossed the sand and walked up the steps to the crossover.
Laurel’s eyes ran the length of the colorful Capri pants covering Frannie’s legs before stopping on her bare, sandy feet.
“You look like you’ve settled in here.” Her tone sounded ambiguous, but her face was flushed.
Frannie figured Brian’s words were still ringing in her ears, and Laurel was probably wondering how much he’d told her. She saw no point in dragging it out.
“You sabotaged me. You did it before, too, didn’t you? You drove wedges between me and my boyfriends and my other friends, then played games with my sanity. To drive me to return home? Why?”
Laurel looked up the beach and down. She settled her gaze on the dunes beside the crossover. “This isn’t the place for that conversation.”
“Shall we go in the house? Shall I make us a cup of tea? I’ve even got some of those special cookies you like so much. Is that what you’d like?”
As Laurel opened her mouth to respond, Frannie cut her off.
“In case you thought I was serious, understand we won’t be doing that. Not now and never again. What I really don’t get is why you worked so hard to make sure I didn’t have my own life, didn’t marry, and yet did your best to get Joel and me together. Why?”
Laurel’s lower lip trembled. She lowered her voice. “So disrespectful. I never expected this of you, Frannie. I never wanted to hurt you. I was always there for you.”
“Give it up, Laurel. Brian told me about the man you sent. Finally, I have the missing piece and the puzzle begins to make sense, except for the ‘why’ of it. It wasn’t my companionship you craved. So, was it my money? Didn’t Dad leave you enough?” Frannie spoke rough and low. “Why Joel and not the others? Did you really think he’d be so easy to control?”
“You would never have married Joel. I didn’t blame you for wanting a boyfriend. You’re young, so I understood. You could do far worse than Joel. In fact, you did. More than once. If somehow you did marry him, at least he would be kind and faithful.”
“So selfless of you. Yet those household expenses have kept going up and up. I let it go rather than get into yet another argument, but now I’m beginning to see why you were so invested in keeping me close.”
Laurel sniffled as she dug in her purse and pulled out a tissue. “It was never about the money.”
“That’s good to hear because I won’t be paying any of the house or household expenses any longer. In fact—”
A swirling gust of wind kicked up the dry sand, flinging it up into the air. Frannie and Laurel both turned away shielding their eyes. In that moment, Frannie remembered something she’d heard: revenge is a dish best served cold. Shakespeare, maybe?
But as Juli had reminded her—God said, “Vengeance is Mine.”
Perhaps she’d said enough for now. If more needed to be said, especially about the house and Laurel’s living arrangements, then her attorney could say it for her. Now or later, it was up to her. So, for now, she’d leave it for later. Still, she wasn’t quite done. Being clear in one’s message wasn’t the same as revenge.
“Do you see that woman sitting on the beach?” Frannie pointed toward Juli.
“I see her.”
“You turned away a dying woman and with her, that child, and you condemned her to be an orphan, a foster child, separated from her father and sister.”
Laurel was pale with only bright spots of red left on her cheeks. “I only did what I thought best.”
“It’s time for you to leave now.”
“Frannie….”
“Maybe someday. Maybe when I’m no longer angry. Maybe after the relationship between my sister and me is as it should be, perhaps then we can have a reasonable conversation. Until then, respect my feelings.”
Frannie walked past her, leaving her to stew alone. Inside the house, she closed the door firmly to be sure there was no misunderstanding about an invitation.
She searched in the dresser drawer and found the folded over sock. She pressed it to her heart. She picked up the photo of her father and Frances, holding it between thumb and forefinger for a few moments, considering. She wasn’t likely to ever have one like it again. She should’ve made copies right away.
Her stomach twisted and she held her breath. She laid the photo back down on the dresser, but kept one finger on the corner, torn between what was the right, or the best, thing to do.
When she emerged from the house and reached the crossover, she was glad to see Laurel was gone, but the beach was also empty. No Juli.
She picked up her pace, jogging along the crossover, searching the beach strand as she ran along the boards. At the end of the walkway, she paused and looked up and down the beach. Juli was already a distance away. Frannie quickly descended the steps and stumbled through the dry sand. It kicked up behind her as she ran, the rough grains hitting her calves, until she hit a so
ft drift and her feet slid out from under her. She hit the sand on her knees and hands.
“Wait, Juli. Wait!”
Juli turned toward a path between the houses and headed in the direction of the road.
Perhaps she’d had as much as she could handle. Maybe she needed some time.
Had she, Frannie, said or done the wrong thing? Something that convinced Juli to not want this relationship?
Frannie stayed on her knees, the sock and photo cradled in her hands.
What was that first verse she’d found? The one about Jonah in the belly of the whale? She felt like she’d been spit out of a painful, tortured place to find herself on a sunny beach, a new world, never having realized she’d been trapped until she no longer was.
One thing she’d learned was that until you accept what must be done, rise above yourself, and move forward to do it with a whole heart, you were stuck. It wasn’t enough to go through the motions; you had to be that new person. Until then, you couldn’t go anywhere, not even back. You were doomed to be stuck, blind, mired in your own misery and self-doubt.
Frannie put one hand over her stomach. She was calm. Her stomach, that nervous, angry beast inside, was also quiet. She closed her eyes. What did she feel? Sadness maybe, but also something a lot like satisfaction. Regret? Maybe the tiniest twinge, but when it came to Juli, she still had hope.
****
Brian said he’d be there about noon. He’d made it a point to tell her it was important for her to be there. Some of her anxiety had returned. Not only did she wonder what he had on his mind, but she was going to ask him why he went along with the handyman-house painter charade.
Was he really a caretaker? Hah. Look at her—she’d certainly never made a go of a traditional job. It shouldn’t be that difficult a conversation; however, she hadn’t heard back from Juli since their beach chat yesterday, and those ugly little doubts were trying to worm their way back in to sabotage her hope, but now she recognized them for what they were.
As she carried her tea to the coffee table, she passed the sliding glass door and saw Juli standing on the crossover about halfway between the beach and the house. Her back was to the house and she faced the ocean with her hands in her pockets.
Frannie opened the door and received another surprise. Luke was sitting in a porch rocker. His hands were under Danny’s arms and around his torso, while Danny kicked and tried to stand on Luke’s thighs. Danny stretched his baby legs and gurgled, bubbles forming on his lips.
Luke looked toward her. “She’s waiting for you.”
She couldn’t read his face.
He nodded toward Juli. Her hands were no longer in her pockets; her arms were now crossed tightly across her chest.
Frannie went back to the bedroom to grab the rolled sock. When she exited, she went straight to Juli.
“You’re back.”
Juli asked, “Take a walk?”
She nodded and followed.
“Did you work it out with your mother? How are you?”
“I’m better than I might have been. I read those verses in Romans. I’m not sure about forgiving her.”
“Well, it’s not really about forgiveness, is it? Deciding not to seek revenge or ‘get even’ and to leave it in God’s hands, to trust Him to handle it, is more about acceptance and moving forward. When you do that, the anger and poison inside you will be neutralized.”
“For a while maybe…until the next time.”
Juli smiled. “That’s true. As many times as needed.” She leaned forward and caught Frannie in a hug.
The hug was brief and impulsive, but joy surged inside her, knocking out everything else. Even when Juli released her, Frannie knew they’d truly found each other.
“Here’s the letter you gave me.”
Frannie accepted it back. “You could’ve kept it.” She put the folded paper in her shirt pocket and withdrew the photo. It was so small and fragile.
“Take a look at this.”
Juli held the photo and stared.
“Edward and Frances Denman. About the time they married.”
Juli looked up at Frannie and then looked back down at the photo. She shook her head.
“Maybe she looks familiar. Children see things differently, I guess. I don’t feel a connection to them.” But she didn’t hand the photo back. As they walked across the sand, she kept looking at it.
“It’s very small, I know.”
“It’s not that.” Juli closed her eyes. “I’ve tried, but I can’t remember what she looked like.” When she opened her eyes, Frannie saw they were red and glittering.
“You’ve been crying. I’m sorry.”
“I have, but you had to tell me this. I needed to know.”
Juli had returned the letter to her, and when it came to the photo, she made it clear she felt no connection. Was it too soon to do this next step? It felt like a huge risk, one that if it fell flat, could put an end to the whole saga.
Frannie held up the sock.
Juli frowned. “Is that a sock?”
“Yes. It’s Uncle Will’s. I borrowed it.” She held it up like a white, cottony, stretchy egg.
“I hope you’ll accept this in the spirit intended.”
“A sock?”
Frannie began to unpeel the sock. “Wait.”
“It’s a sock.”
She paused before unwrapping the final layer. “Dad gave this to me on my sixteenth birthday. He would’ve given you the same, or something similar, if you’d been with us. Please hold your hands up.”
She emptied the contents into Juli’s palms. The deep blue of the sapphires in their platinum settings reflected the sun and the depths of the ocean. Juli gasped as an earring touched the edge of her hand and fell into the sand below. Frannie quickly retrieved it.
Juli said, “Are you crazy?”
She laughed. “So I’ve been told a few times.”
“Is this real? Why are you doing this? I don’t need your jewelry.”
“Don’t be offended. I know you don’t need it. I need you to have it.”
“No.”
“Listen, please?” Frannie took the earring she’d picked up from the sand and held it alongside Juli’s face. Satisfied, she held it next to her own ear. “See the color?”
“Yes.”
“That was the color of our father’s eyes.”
“And yours.” Juli sounded miffed.
Frannie put it back against Juli’s cheek. “And yours.”
“Mine?” She looked down at the jewels. “I guess so. Like mine.”
“You don’t have pierced ears, so I’ll keep the earrings and the ring.” She put the earrings on and slid the ring onto her finger. “Hold still.” She reached around Juli’s neck and fastened the necklace with the pendant.
The sunlight refracted off the jewels casting blue lights around them, dancing upon the sand and against their skin.
“This is crazy.” Juli touched the pendant. “Like my eyes, you said.” She started crying, the tears ran down her cheeks, as she laughed. “I’m crazy, too.” She dabbed at the tears.
“Let’s be crazy together?” Frannie laughed. “I hear it may run in the family.”
They sat on the beach in their capris and sapphires, until Danny decided it was time to do otherwise.
They heard Danny fussing.
“Juli?” Luke called. “I think it’s time.”
“Why don’t y’all come back for supper?”
“Supper?” Juli looked doubtful.
Frannie’s mood threatened to tank until Juli added, “I’d like to keep it between the two of us for a while, before we involve others. It feels so new.”
“I understand. Tell me when it’s good for you. I’ll try to be patient.”
“Don’t you want to take this back?” She touched the pendant again.
“No, that’s yours. It’s a gift from your father and your sister.”
Juli nodded and brushed at her eyes again. “I’ll call you
later.” She paused and then continued, “I have to tell you this. What I said about you being a ‘pleaser’? I missed seeing the persistence. I admire determination. I have a feeling that’s the real you.” Juli smiled. “I have determination, too. More importantly, I have faith.”
Frannie shook her head. “I think I’m a little short on that.”
“I doubt it, but even if you are, don’t worry.” Juli smiled. “I have enough for both of us, for now, and I’m happy to share.”
****
Frannie stood, at peace, watching the ocean. She’d done what she had to, including giving Juli space to absorb it all at her own pace. They’d parted with buckets of good feelings shared between them.
And she, Frannie, hadn’t done everything she thought she had to do, specifically with regard to Laurel, and that was maybe a good thing.
“Fran!”
She turned toward the house. Brian was walking down the crossover with quick steps.
Her handyman.
She held out her hands and he took them in his own as he joined her at the railing.
“I have to ask you something, Brian.”
“Anything. Ask.”
His smile was so broad, she hated to risk dimming it.
“Why haven’t I received an invoice?”
He tilted his head and frowned. “Invoice? Oh, for the painting and stuff.”
“Yeah, that stuff.”
“Must’ve gotten lost in the mail. I can send another.”
“Liar.”
He touch her chin and turned her face toward his. “Harsh.”
“But true.”
“Only in the sense that I didn’t send an invoice.” His words were playful, but his tone had lost some of its shine. “What’s wrong?”
“Uncle Will’s handyman is Patrick Bryan. His business card on the fridge gave your game away…except, what is your game? Why the charade?”
“Game? Charade? I’m a pretty handy guy and I did paint the house, didn’t I? Most of it, anyway. And for what? You know, I’m beginning to think I’ve been played.”
“What?” Her temper flared.
“That’s right. You suckered me into painting that house. You were very clever. I’m still trying to figure out how you managed it.” He pulled her closer. “In fact, I think you do owe me, but I don’t want money so I won’t be sending an invoice. Nope, this bill gets delivered, and collected, in person.”
Beach Winds Page 25
