Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1)

by Kimberly Diede

  Together they walked down to the party, now in full swing.

  “Don’t feel like you have to babysit me all night, kids. I’m just going to mingle a bit. I won’t be offended if you want to hang out with any of your new friends. Be home by one, and stay with the other kids.” God, it’s hard to give them space, but they’re good kids and they’ll be careful, Renee tried to reassure herself as her mind conjured up past news stories of kids traveling to the tropics and going missing.

  It didn’t take long for Robbie to spot his new buds and take off. Julie also saw girls she met on the beach earlier and wandered off with them, giving her mom a brief wave and encouraging smile. Renee found herself alone. She was surprised to realize this didn’t even bother her. Everyone was friendly and she meandered from group to group, making small talk and introducing herself as “Renee from Minneapolis.” The crowd included both visitors and islanders. At one point, Renee saw Matt, but he was in uniform and keeping an eye on the party. She watched him greet people as they passed, but didn’t approach him. He caught her eye on one occasion and nodded a hello, but that was the extent of it.

  Picnic tables had been set up around the parking lot to give party-goers a place to relax and visit. A group of six noisy women congregated at one such table, their laughter snagging Renee’s attention. She was delighted to see Susan, the woman she sat next to on the plane, among them. She strolled over to their table.

  “Hey Susan!” Renee greeted her new acquaintance. “I’m so glad to see you again! What brings you to this part of the island?”

  “Oh my God, hi Renee! Everyone, this is Renee. We met on the flight over here,” Susan introduced her, and the other women greeted Renee warmly. “The Chamber of Commerce provides a shuttle service around the island and we heard about this party, so we thought it would be fun to come hear the live music.”

  Renee sat down with them and joined in their conversation. All were there without their significant others, now enjoying girl time. Twenty minutes before midnight, they decided to catch a shuttle back so they could enjoy their resort’s champagne and fruit bar.

  “I am so glad I got to meet all of you,” Renee said. She gave each of her new friends a quick hug as they left. “Happy New Year!”

  Renee again found herself alone. Shirtless male waiters in flower leis and cutoffs walked through the crowd with plastic flutes of champagne, offering them to the adults as midnight drew near. Helping herself to a glass, Renee felt a sudden need for solitude.

  The beach was off to the left. A bright moon illuminated the sand. Slipping off her sandals, she made her way down to the water’s edge. It was so peaceful, the waves masking most other sounds. She could still hear a bit of the noise from the party behind her and see a group of kids with a fire burning farther down the beach, but she couldn’t hear their voices. She was in her own little bubble, sipping the fruity, dry drink, pondering both the year now ending and the new one ahead.

  She jumped at a slight touch on her arm. Standing next to her, eyes focused on the water, was Matt. He also held a flute.

  “Trying to surprise me again?” she asked.

  He smiled but said nothing, still staring at the water.

  They stood quietly for a few minutes, and then heard the band’s countdown to midnight begin. Matt silently put his hand on Renee’s elbow, gently turning her to face him. Oh man, am I really going to do this? Renee pondered, poised to retreat. As the clock struck midnight, he dipped his head toward her, his intent clear. What the hell, she conceded, and she tilted hers up, meeting him for an innocent brush of lips to welcome in the New Year.It felt natural and unhurried, neither backed away to end the contact. They kissed again as the crowd behind them whooped it up. They stepped closer, their kisses becoming more urgent as Renee leaned into Matt, her bare toes bumping against his boots.

  Something landed with a thud in the sand at their feet and both jumped back. A teenager jogged up, noticing them as he reached for his Frisbee. He was part of the group down the beach.

  “Oh, sorry about that, didn’t see you there,” the boy apologized. “Hope we didn’t hit you with our disc, Sheriff.”

  Off he ran with his bright yellow disc. The spell broken, Renee and Matt stepped even farther apart. Feeling embarrassed, Renee turned back to the water, draining her glass.

  “Jeez, Renee, I’m sorry about that,” Matt said, filling the silence with his deep voice. “I got off duty but didn’t want to head home before midnight. I saw you wander this way, and I guess I followed you out. I was tired of the noise from the party and liked your idea of some peace and quiet. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you out here alone, either. I certainly didn’t follow you out here to kiss you.”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t want to be followed,” Renee replied, again put off by his comment—she didn’t need to be looked after.

  “No, no, that didn’t come out right,” Matt replied, exasperated, running his hands through his hair. “We just seem to keep rubbing each other the wrong way. Kissing is what people do at midnight on New Year’s Eve, right? And I enjoyed kissing you. I just don’t want you to think I’m following you. Hell, we barely know each other. I guess I wouldn’t have been surprised if your first New Year’s resolution was to slap me.”

  Giggling, Renee felt foolish for squabbling with this man yet again. They were both adults and didn’t have to apologize to anyone. Unless he wasn’t as “unattached” as she was.

  “Are you married?” Renee blurted, touching her own lips in dismay.

  At that, Matt laughed, his deep chuckles filling the tropical air. “Oh God, no. I’m single. There’s no Mrs. Blatso to worry about,” he said, turning toward Renee and putting his hands on her upper arms, pulling her against his chest. “I can kiss anyone I want to at midnight, and I enjoyed kissing you.”

  “You said that already,” Renee said slyly.

  Suddenly Renee was caught up in another long kiss with Matt.

  The party of kids down the beach started breaking up and small groups of them walked in their direction. Renee snapped back to her senses when she heard Robbie’s voice among them. She smiled up at Matt in the moonlight as she pulled out of his arms. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. She walked back toward the thinning party crowd. She didn’t want Robbie to find her in the arms of the sheriff. He would have been mortified.

  Robbie didn’t see her, thankfully. Julie was at a picnic table with a few girls when Renee stepped back onto the blacktop. She saw Renee hustle out of the darkness, and rushed over to meet her halfway across the confetti-strewn parking lot.

  “Mom, are you OK? You’re flushed and . . . barefoot. Is everything all right?”

  “Of course I’m fine! I just went for a little walk on the beach. I heard Robbie coming toward me with a bunch of kids and I was afraid if he saw me, he’d think I was checking up on him, so I wanted to get back here before he could see me on the beach,” Renee improvised, pleased with herself for coming up with that little story. Not a lie, right? Just an omission of the part about kissing a near stranger on the beach at midnight. But she had no intention of sharing how she kicked off the year.

  Julie accepted Renee’s explanation at face value and, linking arms with her mom, turned toward their cottage. As she turned, she noticed the sheriff coming off the beach in the exact same spot her mom had a couple minutes earlier. For a split second she wondered if maybe her mom had been out there with the sheriff, but then decided that was ridiculous. What would her mother be doing on the beach with someone she barely knew at midnight on New Year’s Eve?

  Chapter 21

  Gift of Guidance

  Renee welcomed the new day from her plastic recliner on their beach, steaming mug of coffee in hand. Today was special. It was the first day of a new year—and the morning she’d waited for to read her letter from Aunt Celia. Even though she was up late the night before, the birds wouldn’t let her sleep in. She didn’t mind. She reveled in the early morning quiet
.

  Setting her cup aside, she pulled out Celia’s envelope. She ran her finger across her name, carefully scrawled across the front in her aunt’s looping hand. Renee missed Celia terribly. Aunt Celia’s presence was always a given in her life. Growing up, all her holidays and special times included Celia. Unfortunately, as an adult, she hadn’t spent as much time with her aunt, but Celia was always there if Renee needed her. News of Celia’s death had been an utter shock. Despite her age, Celia had seemed timeless.

  Unable to wait any longer, Renee broke the seal and pulled out three sheets of monogrammed stationery. The scent of roses lingered on the morning air as she unfolded the crisp pages. The letter was dated September 1, 2015, a few weeks before her aunt’s death.

  My dearest Renee,

  I feel the time is near to say my goodbyes to you. I do not know exactly when the Good Lord will call me home, but I suspect it won’t be long now. My body weakens and my vision fades. Leaves will soon turn golden outside my window. It may be their last glorious show I will see, these trees which have sheltered my home most of my life. The wind will again turn sharp and cold, whisking the leaves away for another winter from which I may be absent.

  I believe the time has also come for me to do something special with my resources, before I no longer have a say in matters.

  Renee ignored a teardrop as it meandered down her cheek.

  As you read my final words to you, my dear niece, do not sit with a heavy heart and feel guilt over our time spent apart. You and I are similar creatures. We take the responsibility of providing for others seriously. You were a young woman when you lost your husband; I was a young woman when my father was struck down. I had to quickly learn how to help provide food and care for my younger siblings; you had to focus on building a career to provide for your Julie and Robbie. I have watched you work hard. Please know how proud I am of your strength and dedication.

  As my days on this earth slowly wind down to the inevitable close, I have only a few regrets. I share these with you now because you are still young. You have time to consider some slight adjustments to your own path. You have helped guide your children to the brink of young adulthood. When they were younger, they needed you beside them to keep them safe and happy. They are now entering a time in their lives when they no longer need your constant presence, but they will always need you near. Close enough to watch out for them and step back up to their side in times of struggle.

  The time also came in my life when I could have stepped back from some of my hard work. My brothers were grown. My savings would have kept my mother comfortable for the remainder of her days. I could have made the effort to share my own life with someone. Instead, it was easy to stay with the routine I knew best. People at work respected me and felt like family. It was easier to stay there. But each evening, my co-workers would go home to a spouse and children of their own. I often worked late because no one was waiting at home for me. Never being a mother to a child of my own is one of my few regrets. Another is not having a husband at home to greet me at the end of a long day.

  Renee thought back, ashamed, to the times she felt irritated by the need to rush out of work at 5:00 to get dinner on the table or to attend a school function. Celia’s words conjured up a picture of her dear aunt sitting alone in an office, surrounded by quiet and dark, losing herself in bookwork to delay going home to an empty house. I never guessed Celia was lonely, she thought, turning back to her aunt’s letter. She read on, chuckling at her aunt’s not-so-subtle hints to build quality relationships with other adults and not rely on her own kids too much. She’s right, Renee conceded, I amguilty of that! She sobered as she read Celia’s next passage—encouraging her niece to strive to find meaningful work, something her aunt felt she herself had never accomplished. Renee lifted her eyes from the page to gaze at the undulating ocean waves. Does everyone struggle to find fulfillment in their work? Since work was such a large part of Celia’s life, Renee always assumed she’d thrived there. It couldn’t have been easy for her, battling the discrimination she faced.

  Renee read on:

  Please do not misunderstand me. I know I have lived a blessed life. I have always felt the strong bonds of family with all of you. I loved being a part of all the important and mundane moments of your lives. My work provided me with the means to help many people throughout my life as well. Material possessions are meaningless if they cannot be used to lighten the burdens other people carry and to make the world a little brighter place.

  Do you remember traveling to the lake and vacationing at Whispering Pines? We used to stay in the cabins for two weeks each summer, before all of you kids got too busy as teenagers.

  Celia’s abrupt change of subject gave Renee pause. Some of her favorite childhood memories included Whispering Pines.

  Years ago, when I was in my forties, a business acquaintance was unable to pay a debt he owed me. Eventually, he signed over the deed for Whispering Pines to me to settle his debt. It wasn’t worth much back then. There were a handful of cabins and one home, but our family spent many glorious vacations there.

  Up until early last spring, an elderly couple, Ed and Mary, maintained the property for me and rented the cabins out to vacationers. It was a beneficial relationship for both of us. Ed and Mary were wonderful people, but unfortunately Ed died last May, and Mary couldn’t work the Pines alone. She moved out East to live with her daughter. I had a service go in and close up the buildings. They performed some ground maintenance and minimal upkeep over this past summer, but it sits vacant now.

  I have put much thought into whether or not I should keep Whispering Pines in the family or sell it. The property has always held a special place in my heart, even though I have spent little time there during the last few decades. I always hoped to do something more with it. My days spent there were some of my most peaceful.

  After much deliberation, I have decided to pass the deed for Whispering Pines to you.

  Renee stared at the page. She reread those words maybe a dozen times, shocked. “Um . . . what?” she said aloud.

  There is no mortgage on the property; however, upkeep is still expensive. So to avoid placing a financial burden on you, I have established an escrow fund to cover taxes and insurance on the property for at least the next twenty years. If you sell the property before the fund is depleted, any remaining funds are to be donated to various charitable organizations. I also established a smaller fund to cover ongoing property maintenance for your first few years of ownership. My hope is you will use the property to generate income that more than covers future ongoing expenses.

  If you choose to accept my gift to you—or even if you choose not to—I have but one request. Please do not sell the property for at least five years. Give yourself time to come to love it as I did and find a way to make it work for you. I have left further instructions with my lawyer; he will work with you on the transition.

  Always remember to work hardest not on someone else’s dreams, but on your own.

  If this single statement doesn’t yet resonate in your heart when you read it, you aren’t yet ready to appreciate the meaning behind the words. I pray in time you will come to understand their wisdom.

  Stay strong, my dearest Renee. Use your God-given talents to make this world a brighter place and enjoy each and every day.

  All my love,

  Celia

  Renee let her hands, still clutching the pages of her aunt’s final message to her, fall to her lap as she again stared across the pale gray ocean before her. Her mind’s eye was seeing a different body of water: an old wooden dock jutted into crystal clear lake water as her ten-year-old self splashed around with Jess and Val, trying to catch minnows with a bug net. Her mom and Aunt Celia sat in green-and-white webbed lawn chairs on a brown sliver of sand, sipping cans of Tab. I spent hours in that lake, floating around on air mattresses and jumping on huge tractor-tire inner tubes, Renee reflected as she unconsciously touched the scar on her upper thigh; she’d gashed i
t on a metal valve stem sticking out of one of those tubes.

  She hadn’t thought about their summer weeks at the lake in a long time. She had no idea Celia still owned the property. Why did we get too busy and stop going? Summer jobs? Ball games?

  It was all too overwhelming. Renee couldn’t imagine being the owner of a lake resort in Minnesota. As a single mother, it was a struggle to keep up her own house in Minneapolis. I can hammer a nail and mow a lawn, but I’m not handy enough to keep a lake property going! The resort was hours from her home. It was an extremely generous gift, but Renee wasn’t sure why Celia gave it to her and not someone else in their family.

  God . . . this may be the first winter I’m actually glad for the long months between now and spring. It gives me time to try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do now!

  Chapter 22

  Gift of a Stroll

  Julie, Robbie, and Renee joined a tour group with twenty-five others on New Year’s Day. Their guide was a native, and transportation consisted of an open-air bus and various boats. They took tons of pictures—“A whole ’nother photo album’s worth,” joked Robbie—using up all the film in their underwater cameras. Robbie would have plenty of photos to fill more pages in his new album. Lunch on a large sailboat consisted of fresh fish and exotic fruit.

  By the time the shuttle dropped them back at their resort, they were in desperate need of cool showers to wash away the salt, sweat, and sand. After cleaning up, all three dozed in the cool cabin—until their grumbling stomachs woke them. Refreshed, they walked to a small diner down the road, since they’d slept through dinner served poolside.

  They all ordered the lobster roll special, served in red-and-white checkered containers, along with glasses of pulpy lemonade. Not wanting to spend the glorious evening indoors, they carried their meals out to an empty picnic table at the end of the parking lot, overlooking the beach.