On Shadow Beach

by Barbara Freethy

“Who’s working on the Angel’s Bay quilt?” Lauren asked suspiciously. “And you’d better not say us.”

  “Not us—you,” Charlotte replied with a grin. “I’m not related to the original twenty-four.”

  “I haven’t quilted in years. I don’t even remember how.”

  “Sure you do.” Charlotte headed toward the table where a dozen women had gathered. Fabric blocks in varying stages of construction were spread across the top, all replicas of the original Angel’s Bay story quilt.

  “I can’t believe Charlotte got you here,” Kara said, disbelief in her eyes. “I was sure you’d say no.”

  “She didn’t tell me we were coming here, or that we were sewing,” Lauren replied.

  Kara motioned to the chair next to her. “Have a seat. You can work on the Jamison block.” She pushed a scrap of fabric in Lauren’s direction.

  Lauren stared down at the design. She’d done this before a hundred times, usually assisting her mother. Along with the butterfly soaring through two gold rings, the letters L and T were entwined, standing for Leonora and Tommy and their endless love. She’d enjoyed quilting in the past, imagining Tommy and Leonora’s love affair as she stitched their letters.

  She did have a soft spot for their romantic story, and she was the one who’d wanted to carry on the family tradition. Abby had only worked on the quilt a few times, most of them under duress from their mother.

  “It will be fun, Lauren,” Charlotte said with encouragement.

  Kara gave her a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Lauren.”

  “Of course she wants to,” Fiona Murray interrupted. The matriarch of the Murray family had an iron will, and no one crossed her. Her blue eyes glinted with steel as she gazed down at Lauren. “It’s your duty, dear. You must carry on the family tradition. Your father would be very proud if you did.”

  “I’m not sure I remember how,” she prevaricated, knowing that her hesitation was futile.

  “You will, once you pick the needle up,” Fiona said. Her eyes softened briefly. “How is your mother, dear? We miss her around here.”

  “She’s well.”

  “And happy?”

  “Yes,” Lauren said.

  “She deserves to be, after the terrible tragedy that befell your family. It’s nice to have you back. Your father has been lonely these past years.”

  “His choice,” Lauren said shortly, unwilling to allow her father to be the victim.

  “One I suspect he regrets,” Fiona said.

  “I’m not sure that he does, but it’s done.”

  “Yes, we can only look forward, not backward.” Fiona drew in a breath and looked at her assembled workers. “All right, ladies, let’s get to work.”

  “What are you going to do?” Lauren asked Charlotte, who was leaning against the counter next to them.

  “I’m going to have a drink.” Charlotte pulled a bottle of red wine out of her bag. “And supervise.”

  “Charlotte, put that wine away,” Fiona Murray said sharply, her eagle eye not missing a thing. “No liquids near this quilt. You can help Jenna with her square. We don’t need idle hands at this table.”

  Charlotte put the wine away. “Yes, ma’am,” she said meekly.

  Lauren smiled. They were all in their thirties, but Fiona still treated them like they were teenagers. Charlotte sat down next to Jenna Davies and soon they were all involved with the task at hand.

  It was amazing how quickly the quilting came back to her. Threading the newer sewing machines took a little time to learn, but within minutes she was on her way. There was a certain peace that came with quilting, and as the conversation flowed around her, Lauren relaxed, taking pleasure in the work and enjoying the camaraderie of working on a shared project.

  The quilt had brought the original survivors together, had given them a chance to connect, to grieve, to start over, and through the quilt to tell the stories of their loved ones, their shattered families. The quilting had helped them to move on and today, some hundred and fifty years after that first quilt had been sewn, it was helping Lauren to heal. She’d turned her back on Angel’s Bay and everything and everyone in it. She’d been filled with so much hate and rage that she couldn’t see anything good, but there was a lot of good here. There always had been.

  She was the last to finish. “Does it look horrible?” Lauren asked Kara. “Am I a disgrace to the Jamison women who have come before me?”

  Kara inspected the square. “It’s great. The stitching is very even. You did a wonderful job. You haven’t forgotten a thing.”

  “I hope it passes your grandmother’s inspection. She demands perfection,” Lauren said.

  “Actually, when it comes to quilting, my grandmother prefers handstitching and a lot of love over machine sewing. She brings the modern techniques to the town because the business has to keep growing, but the fact that you made this square and that you’re a Jamison means everything to her.”

  “So now we celebrate,” Charlotte said, pouring Lauren a glass of wine. Everyone else had left, including Fiona, who’d told Kara to lock up when they were ready to go.

  “I’m so jealous,” Kara said with a yearning glance. “Apple cider is not doing it for me tonight. And by the way, Charlotte, I’m mad at you.”

  “What did I do?” Charlotte asked in surprise.

  “You did not tell me how horrible childbirth is. I went to the birthing class tonight, and the movie was quite an eye-opener. I don’t want to have this baby anymore.”

  Charlotte grinned. “Too late for that kind of thinking.”

  “It was horrifying. I thought Jason was going to pass out,” Kara added.

  “Jason?” Lauren cut in, surprised to hear his name again. “Jason Marlow?”

  “Yes, he stood in for my mother. She’s supposed to be my coach until Colin wakes up. But she got sick, and I wasn’t going to go, but Jason pushed me to do it,” Kara explained. “I think he’s sorry now. Childbirth is a little on the disgusting side, I have to say.”

  “Wait until you have that beautiful baby in your arms,” Charlotte said. “It will all be worth it.”

  “You have to say that; you’re the doctor.”

  “You and Jason have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” Lauren asked.

  Kara nodded. “He was Colin’s best friend growing up. Mine, too.” Her brows knit together in a frown. “Jason said that there are some rumors going around about him and Abby.”

  “Did he have a relationship with my sister?” Lauren asked.

  “He said they were friends. Wouldn’t Abby have told you if she liked him, Lauren? You were close. You shared a room.”

  “We weren’t that close in the months before her death. I was thinking about graduation, and I got caught up in my own romance. I didn’t pay much attention to her. She was always with Lisa, and they were two years younger. They had their own friends.” Lauren shook her head. “You don’t know how many times I wish I’d done things differently that year.”

  “I know you blame yourself, but you can’t,” Kara said quietly. “Sometimes bad things just happen.”

  Lauren knew Kara wasn’t talking just about Abby, but also about Colin, and she felt a little guilty for being so absorbed in her own problems. “You’re right, of course. So how are you feeling tonight?”

  Kara sighed. “Tired, but happy to be with old friends. The birthing class was tough to get through, and not just because of the gross movie. Doing it with Jason and not Colin felt so wrong. But this was a rehearsal, not the real thing. Colin will be there when the baby comes. I’m sure of that.” She cleared her throat. “And getting back to Jason, I think he would have told me if he was involved with Abby in high school. Although I must admit my attention at the time was mostly on Colin.”

  “That’s for sure. You two were attached at the hip.” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she refilled Lauren’s glass as well as her own. “So, here’s a question, Kara, since we’re t
aking a trip down memory lane. Did you have sex with Colin in high school?”

  “Hey, that’s a little personal,” Kara protested.

  “And I’m a little buzzed, so answer the question.”

  Kara looked around the room as if she were afraid her mother or grandmother might be lurking somewhere, but they were alone.

  “Is it really that big of a secret now?” Charlotte asked. “You’re almost thirty years old, and you did marry the guy.”

  “You first, Charlie,” Kara said. “You and Andrew? Did you do the wild thing?”

  Charlotte’s smile widened. “Yes, but only once. Three days later, Andrew did it with Pamela the Slut—at the beach—at a party I was at.”

  “I hope you didn’t actually see them,” Lauren interjected.

  “I caught the previews.”

  “That sucks,” Kara said. “I didn’t know he was such a jerk.”

  “He was a teenage boy,” Charlotte said. “And he was hot. I was mad for him.”

  “Now he’s a minister,” Lauren put in. “Who would have thought?”

  “Certainly not me,” Charlotte replied. “He’s good, too. I think he’s found his purpose in life.”

  Lauren wondered if Charlotte still had a thing for Andrew. First love was tough to shake, as she knew only too well. “You’re making light of it now, but you must have been hurt when Andrew cheated on you.”

  “I was devastated,” Charlotte admitted. “That beach party is one big painful blur in my mind. I was drunk. I was angry. I was stupid.”

  “What does that mean?” Kara asked curiously. “Did something else happen?”

  “As if I could remember? I had tequila amnesia.”

  “What about now?” Lauren asked. “Are you going to give Andrew another chance? Obviously he’s cleaned up his act.”

  “I don’t think so, and not because of Pamela. There are other reasons.”

  “Like what?” Lauren prodded.

  “Yeah, like what?” Kara echoed.

  Charlotte frowned. “I can’t see myself as the girlfriend or the wife of the minister. It’s not just that, though. I’m flattered by Andrew’s attention, but I think it’s because I’m easy.” She stopped short. “Whoa, that didn’t come out right. I meant I’m easy for him to be with, because I know his past. He feels comfortable with me, and deep down he’s still insecure about being the spiritual leader of a town that remembers him as a kid. With me, he doesn’t have to be anyone but himself.”

  “All that seems like stuff you could work out,” Kara interjected. “If you still like him?”

  Charlotte ran her finger around the edge of her wineglass, her expression pensive. “I do like him, but I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you should find out,” Lauren suggested. “Don’t write him off without giving him a chance.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do, Lauren?” Charlotte asked, lifting her gaze to Lauren. “Give your old high school boyfriend a second chance?”

  “Damn, I walked right into that one,” she replied. “No comment.”

  “No way—you don’t get off that easily,” Charlotte said.

  “What are you thinking, Lauren?” Kara asked, her gaze curious and a bit concerned. “Shane is my brother, and I love him. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

  “I know you slept with Shane in high school,” Charlotte cut in. “There’s no way you didn’t. He was way too hot to resist. Those dark, moody eyes, that ripped body.”

  “I might have,” Lauren admitted, thinking it was easier to confess to sex thirteen years ago than sex last night.

  Kara winced and put her hands over her ears. “Please, I don’t want to hear any details. That’s my brother you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to give you any,” Lauren said, feeling a blush warm her cheeks.

  “Well, you can give them to me on the way home,” Charlotte said with a laugh. Then she turned back to Kara. “So that leaves you, Kara. Were we all bad girls back in high school? Or just Lauren and me?”

  Kara hesitated, then gave a sheepish smile. “Colin and I did not have sex in high school. We made out a lot, but we waited until we were twenty-one.”

  “Really,” Charlotte murmured.

  “Interesting,” Lauren said.

  “It wasn’t easy, but I’m glad we held off, because I think we might have ruined it if we’d had sex too early.”

  “Maybe,” Charlotte said thoughtfully.

  “Maybe,” Lauren echoed.

  Kara looked from one to the other and laughed. “You two look like you just got called into the principal’s office for bad behavior. Believe me, you had a lot more fun in high school than I did. And who knows what might happen now? Your men are still single and available and right here in town.”

  Silence fell between them for a moment. “I slept with Shane last night,” Lauren said abruptly, not sure why she’d felt the need to confess, but there it was. “I shouldn’t have, and I don’t know why I did. It can’t go anywhere.” She glanced at Charlotte, who seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face. “What?”

  “Lauren, you need to stop pretending that Shane wasn’t important to you.”

  “He was important, but we were kids back then.”

  “You weren’t kids last night,” Charlotte reminded her.

  “I felt like one,” she confessed. “Young, reckless, and wild, like the girl who got on the back of Shane’s motorcycle all those years ago and threw caution to the wind. But it’s over. It was just one last fling for old times’ sake. I’m not going to sleep with him again.”

  “Because it was horrible?” Charlotte asked.

  Lauren made a face at her. “No, because it was incredible, and I can’t let myself fall for him again. We’ve both moved on.” She looked at Kara, who was giving her a thoughtful look. “Sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all this.”

  “Just—be careful, Lauren. I don’t want either one of you to get hurt. Shane acts tough, and it’s hard to get a handle on what he’s thinking or feeling, but he cared about you in high school and I think he still does.”

  “Does he know that last night was just a fling?” Charlotte asked.

  “I told him,” Lauren said, drinking the last of her wine. “But I’m not sure he believed me.”

  “Why not?” Charlotte persisted.

  “Because I have a hard time keeping my hands off of him.”

  “Then it sounds like I’d better walk you all the way home just to make sure you don’t take any side trips,” Charlotte said.

  “Good idea,” Lauren said, as Charlotte helped Kara to her feet.

  They rinsed out their wineglasses, turned off the lights, and left the store, locking the doors behind them. The streets were quiet, just the distant sound of music coming from one of the bars. Angel’s Bay had grown a lot since she’d left, but it still had the feel of a small town. They left Kara at her car and then continued on to Lauren’s house.

  “What about you, Charlie?” Lauren asked as they turned down her street. “Who’s going to walk you home?”

  “I’ll be fine, it’s only three blocks. And I’m in no danger of wandering down to the marina and stopping by a certain sexy someone’s boat.”

  Lauren frowned. “I do have some self-control.”

  “Then go in the house and stay there,” Charlotte said with a grin. “It was fun tonight. I’m glad you came. It was like old times.”

  “Yeah, it was.” She had girlfriends in San Francisco, but not women who’d known her as a child. There was a certain honesty she shared with Charlotte, and even Kara, that she didn’t share with anyone else. That was her fault. She’d shut her current friends out of her past life. She’d wanted to keep the two separate, and that had come with a price.

  “Looks like your dad is home,” Charlotte said. “The lights are on.”

  “That could mean anything, but I hope he’s tucked safely in bed.”

  “Do you want me to w
ait, in case you have to hunt him down?”

  “No, I’m sure it’s fine.” She paused as her gaze caught on a stack of bricks under a side window—a window that was now open, the edge of a curtain blowing through the space. “That’s odd,” she muttered.

  “What?” Charlotte asked, following her across the yard.

  “It looks like someone stacked these bricks so they could get up to the window.”

  “You think someone broke into your house?”

  “I don’t know.” She remembered the sound of the dog barking earlier, the crash in the side yard. “Maybe the bricks have always been there. I just don’t remember the window being open when I left. My dad must have opened it. Or he forgot his key and climbed in through the window.” She drew in a breath and let it out. “Thanks for walking me home.”

  “Not so fast. Let’s go inside and make sure everything is okay.”

  They walked around to the porch, where Lauren slipped her key into the lock and opened the door. The open window was in the adjacent dining room, and she walked over to close it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “Abby? Is that you?” Her father came out of his bedroom wearing his yellow rain slicker and boots. “It’s time to go fishing. It’s storming out, better get your gear on.”

  Lauren exchanged a quick look with Charlotte. “It’s not raining, Dad.”

  “Who’s your friend?” Ned asked, squinting at Charlotte. “Is she coming with us?”

  “No, she’s going home,” Lauren said. “It’s too late to go fishing.”

  “Okay, then. I better change.” He ambled back toward his bedroom.

  Charlotte looked at her sympathetically. “It must be difficult to have him call you Abby.”

  Lauren shrugged. “It doesn’t shock me so much anymore. I think she’s always on his mind. Since I’ve come back she’s on my mind, too. We need closure. We need answers.” She paused. “I was thinking about what Abby was involved with in the weeks before she died, and I remembered that she was always taking photos for the yearbook. She had to cover every event.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Maybe there’s some clue in those photos.”

  “Did you look in the yearbook?”