Beach Rental

by Greene, Grace

  “Is this why you wanted me to bring pizza over? Two pizzas?” Luke set the boxes on the kitchen counter.

  Despite her best intentions, Juli deflated. She went to the cupboards to get plates and to hide her expression.

  Ben intercepted her. “No, no. I’ll take care of this. You two sit down.”

  Luke asked, still standing, “What’s the problem, Ben?”

  “You two are the problem. My problem. I care about you both. Sit down. We’ll share lunch and get to know each other better.”

  Luke pressed his lips together. No words were going to make it past that blockage. Juli tried to fill the gap.

  “Is that pepperoni?” Oh, so fascinating, pepperoni.

  Luke responded, “With mushrooms. Ben likes mushrooms.”

  “I know. Did you get it at that place about a mile down the road?”

  Luke answered like it mattered. “Yes.”

  An inept attempt at a congenial conversation.

  Ben said, “Juli’s taking art lessons.”

  “With Anna. I know. Anna told me.” Luke replied.

  Ben looked at her. It was her turn, but Juli didn’t want to discuss her artistic efforts with Luke over pizza in this artificially staged atmosphere.

  Luke stepped in. “Anna’s had some very nice sales recently. One of our gallery customers attended a show she held with some of her students at a hotel in Nags Head and was impressed. Asked to see some of the work privately through the gallery.”

  “Juli, you should consider participating in one of Anna’s shows,” Ben said.

  “Please.” Now it was her turn to purse her lips. A sigh. She softened her response. “Maybe after more training and practice.”

  When lunch was done—a civil lunch with Luke and Juli subdued by a shared guilt because they’d dealt with Frankie behind Ben’s back—Luke excused himself, saying he had business to tend to. Ben kissed Juli’s cheek and went to take a nap.

  Juli walked out to the porch. There was a change in the air, perhaps only in barometric pressure, but it tingled her skin. The last time she’d felt a change coming was when she’d driven Ben home that night back in April.

  The footsteps coming up the outside stairs to the porch were Luke’s. Juli knew it before she saw him. When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped and looked up, above her head.

  “His sliding door is closed. Is he napping?”

  Luke was speaking in soft tones. Juli did the same.

  “Yes, he is. You didn’t go far.”

  “I want to declare a truce.”

  “A truce?”

  “Let’s give each other the benefit of the doubt?”

  Juli crossed her arms. She felt a stab of sadness. “For the time being, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “For Ben’s sake?”

  “For Ben’s sake.”

  For whatever stupid reason, Juli felt moisture gathering in her eyes. Had there been some purpose in their antagonism? It certainly hadn’t been pleasant, and yet, surely over time they could have found some sort of acceptance—might even come to appreciate each other. Now, it would never happen.

  She extended her hand and Luke grasped it. His grip was strong. Reassuring. And more?

  He continued holding her hand as if time had stilled. She looked into his eyes and saw the amber lights.

  Abruptly, they broke their handclasp.

  He started down the steps, but looked back and Juli couldn’t help herself.

  “Luke,” she called out.

  “Yes?”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of Ben—for both of us.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  For their first month anniversary, Ben had surprised Juli with a card and flowers, but she wasn’t going to get caught on the short end of gift giving today, their second anniversary. She’d purchased a beautiful card with lots of hearts and flowers, guaranteed to charm a romantic like Ben. Choosing a gift had been more difficult. Juli hadn’t wanted to go overboard, in case Ben didn’t celebrate second month anniversaries.

  She got up early and put the card and gift box at his place on the kitchen table. A second gift box was under the table. Not perfectly hidden, but good enough. She took the egg carton and butter from the refrigerator and lined up the breakfast food, ready to cook as soon as he made his appearance. The floor above her creaked. Juli was excited—silly excited—almost giggling. She was about to trump Ben, the champion gift-giver of all time.

  He came down the stairs and spied the table, already set and with a present waiting. The small box had a big, shiny blue bow. He paused on the stairs and smiled, then continued down into the kitchen and kissed her cheek.

  “Happy second anniversary,” he said.

  “And to you. Now, have a seat. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

  “First, I have to get something. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He went to the study with a big grin on his face. His happiness warmed her from the inside out, making her very glad she’d gotten the presents for him. Her instincts had been right. She was cracking the eggs over the edge of the frying pan when she heard him returning. Juli tossed the shell fragments into the trash, then turned around and saw a large box on her chair.

  “What have you done?”

  “You’ll have to see for yourself. Are the eggs burning?”

  “Oh!” Juli swung back to face the stove and started flipping the eggs with the spatula. “Ben, Ben, Ben.” She came close to swearing. Instead, she settled for laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She pointed the spatula toward him. “You are too much.” His face glowed, lit like a beacon. She shook her head, amazed, slipped the eggs onto the plates, and grabbed the toast. “Here you go.”

  “Aren’t you going to open your present?”

  “After we eat. Food first.” Juli couldn’t resist doing the teasing for a change.

  He said a blessing over the food, but when he was done, he still looked disappointed.

  She relented. “On the other hand….”

  “What?”

  “You could go ahead and take a look at your card, and maybe the gift. If you’d like to.”

  Ben picked up the card and opened the flap. He read each word, then blinked his eyes and rubbed his nose. “Nice.” He cleared his throat.

  “What’s this?” He picked up the box and shook it gently. “Not breakable, is it?”

  “No. I hope you’ll like it. I didn’t know if you would, so I have a second gift for you, too. Well, it’s for both of us.”

  “Two gifts?”

  “For two months.”

  Carefully, he worked the blue ribbon off of the package, then unwrapped the paper. He lifted the lid from the box and drew out the chain.

  Had she guessed right? Ben was a gentleman. He would pretend he liked it, regardless of his true feelings.

  He held the chain, dangling from one hand, the dog tag swinging at the end. He didn’t say anything, so she jumped into the void.

  “It says FAITH on the back. On the front, there’s a cross with the verse noted. The man who makes them said the tiny thing at the bottom is a mustard seed. It has to do with the verse. You’re supposed to wear it like a dog tag, but you don’t have to. You could attach it to your key ring or whatever.”

  He examined both sides of the tag. “Matthew 17:20. My name is engraved on it below the verse.”

  “It was special order. I can’t send it back, so I hope you like it.”

  “I love it.” He put it around his neck, but kept one hand wrapped around the dog-tag type pendant. “How did you choose that verse?”

  “I read all of the verses on the website. This one says that if you have faith, nothing is impossible. You are the most optimistic, believing person I know. You believed in us, didn’t you?”

  His eyes looked misty. Maybe he truly did like it, but now she was ready for something more cheerful. She reached below the table and brought out a shirt box. />
  “This is the second gift?” He held it, looking at the paper with little pictures of wedding cakes and bells.

  “Yes, but please, for me, tear the paper off this time? Just rip it.”

  “Here goes.” He started at one end, slipping a finger below to slit the tape, but then gave it a great, ripping tear from end to end. “How’s that?”

  She stopped him, placing her hands on top of the box. “This is for our evening walks.”

  “Whatever you say.” He lifted the top and pulled the first shirt out. It was navy blue with white letters. He read aloud, “Juli’s husband.” Then he pulled the second shirt out, “Ben’s wife.” It was red, but also with white letters.

  “Kind of corny, huh?” Doubt again.

  “Only in the most wonderful way. But there’s one problem.”

  “What?”

  “Now that I have these, I have everything I could want. What on earth will you give me for future anniversaries?”

  “Hah. Funny. Now, my turn.” Juli set the box on the chair next to her. She eased off the bow delicately, carefully, then demolished the paper with abandon.

  The contents of the box were wrapped in white packing paper. She picked up the topmost one. It was long and thin and the paper rustled as she unwound it.

  Juli stared at the bundle of paint brushes. They were brushes for oil paints. She put them on the table and selected another paper-wrapped item. This was a set of colored pencils. And the next, and the next—they were the physical manifestation of Anna’s art supplies list. With each unwrapped item, Ben’s smile grew wider. She worked her way through the box, checking out the brushes, paints, pencils, tablets of specialty papers—on and on. Ben had missed nothing. Juli opened her mouth, but found herself speechless.

  “Now, come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her into the study. “I couldn’t fit this into the box.” He opened the closet door, pushed the coats aside and pulled out an easel. “For my artist wife.”

  ****

  In mid-July, Juli told Anna she was ready to join a group. Anna switched her to a class that met late on Thursday afternoons. “You’ll love them,” Anna said. “They are sweet, incredible people.”

  Juli arrived on Thursday afternoon. Anna’s house was known territory now, but still she was anxious.

  A couple of women, an older man and a teenager all looked up from their easels, most calling out greetings. The teenager didn’t actually speak, but waved his brush in her direction before he disappeared back behind his canvas.

  The white-haired man was a former naval officer. “Call me, Dodge,” he said. “I’m retired now.”

  Juli envied his posture. He stood as if at attention. The teenager was being home-schooled and sent to Anna for art class. When Anna introduced him, he blushed.

  “This is Billy Wooten. Billy, this is Mrs. Bradshaw.”

  “If it’s all the same, I’d rather he called me Juli.”

  “I’m Laura and that’s Donna.” The darker haired woman pointed her paintbrush at the shorter woman. “We’re friends. Donna talked me into this. Oops, sorry Anna. We love you and we love this class.” She giggled.

  There was no type for her to fit into, or not to fit into. Juli found that comforting. She chose an easel next to the kid. Looked to be a little less chatter at that end of the room.

  So far, so good.

  Juli opened her art box and laid out her tubes and brushes. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Billy’s work. Seemed to be heavy lines in black and white with splashes of color. While she was peeking, Billy was also looking out of the corner of his eye and when their gazes met, Billy blushed all over again.

  She opened the jar of turpentine and using the burnt umber, did a wash in varying degrees of light and dark as a roadmap for the painting to come.

  ****

  Juli was gradually accumulating what Anna called a portfolio. Much too grand a word for what she was bringing home, but she could see modest improvement.

  Juli stored her artwork in the topmost room of the Glory. The crow’s nest. Sometimes, when standing on the balcony with the wind streaming through her hair and the waves crashing below, she imagined she was standing on the prow of a Spanish galleon or on the parapet of a castle that perched on the edge of ocean cliffs. Anywhere, but where she used to be.

  Not her old self or old places, but instead, someone with dreams living in a place of infinite promise.

  ****

  For their third anniversary, Ben and Juli agreed to forego the presents and have dinner out. Ben said they were going to a restaurant over by the sound.

  “Do I know it?” she asked.

  “It’s a small place, but special.”

  Juli frowned. There was something he wasn’t saying. She recognized his tone of voice, the lilt that suggested there were words unsaid.

  She was driving at Ben’s suggestion. He said he felt fine, but he’d kept his hand on his mid-section for most of the day. It was an unconscious gesture, but Juli figured he was in some pain. He sat with his head back against the headrest, pale, but appearing relaxed as he listened to the radio. There was talk about a hot spot off the west coast of Africa spinning up a bunch of storms. A few of the tropical weather systems had made it across the Atlantic and dropped a ton of water on the islands in the Caribbean, but the storms had dwindled to tropical depressions, or to nothing at all, by the time they neared the US mainland.

  Ben switched the radio off.

  “Are you worried?” she asked.

  “About storms? No. We’re prepared.”

  “Hurricanes move slowly, that’s good.”

  “They can be unpredictable, but there’s plenty of time to evacuate if you don’t wait until the last minute and we won’t.”

  As they approached where the causeway met Atlantic Avenue, Ben sat up straighter and tapped his index finger against the console. She gave him a quick look.

  “There,” he said. “See where that huge rack of boats is? Just past that, turn left.”

  She turned, as instructed, into the parking lot of a marina.

  “Did you guess?” he asked. “Park over there.”

  There were a bunch of boat slips and nice-looking docks. A number of boats were tied up, but Ben wouldn’t have had her dress up for anything less than that big shiny, two-story boat at the end of the dock.

  “Ben?”

  Several men were standing inside. One was dressed in chef’s whites.

  “It’s ours for the evening. It’s called a party boat. A friend of mine is loaning it to us for our anniversary dinner and the chef is a friend, too. Have you ever dined on the ocean at sunset?”

  ****

  Sunset on the dock, sunset on the beach, even sunset from their front porch was beautiful—made beautiful because the particulates in the atmosphere scattered the waning rays of sunlight, painting the sky in hues of red and gold.

  Lulled into peaceful wonder, Juli sat on the cushioned seat at the side rail of the boat, gently rocked by the movement of the ocean, feeling the touch of a breeze that had traveled from some exotic land far away. She watched the growing splash of vivid color skipping across the shifting surface of the Atlantic Ocean. It was like living in the midst of a poem.

  Ben touched her arm. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know words big enough to describe it. Awesome, inspiring—I can’t do it justice with words. Or with paint.”

  Juli held up her empty hands. Powerless. “Anna said people look for perfection and when they think they’ve found it, they try to hold onto it forever.”

  “This is a sunset, Juli. It’s beautiful and it will come again. The next will be different and may be more awesome. For me, joy is the word I feel.”

  “Joy?”

  “Joy at creation.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”

  “Now, that’s beautiful.”

  “It’s Psalm 19. Verse
1.”

  “The sunset’s fading.” She leaned toward him. The slump of his shoulders betrayed his fatigue. Juli tightened her fingers around his and was disturbed. They felt bony and the knuckles were large in contrast.

  He put his lips against her hair and whispered, “There will be more. Guaranteed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Spagnoli family arrived on a Sunday afternoon in the beginning of August for a two week rental. Juli happened to look out the front window and saw a fair-haired toddler racing down the crossover toward the ocean, his progress revealed between the side rails as he ran along. Without thought, Juli dashed past Ben and ran out the door.

  The toddler, chunky legs churning and diapered butt jouncing, nearly beat her to the end of the crossover. She snagged his t-shirt as a woman yelled, “Charlie!”

  “Oh, my, oh, my. He nearly got away this time.” The woman was quickly there, arms outstretched to receive her squirming Charlie who was still intent on escape.

  Juli passed him to her while noting the skinny, dark-haired pre-teen girl who hung back.

  “I’m Victoria. We just got here, unpacking and all that. This one,” she moved him over to straddle her hip, “is a very busy boy who loves water. He doesn’t know enough to be afraid of it yet, so he gives me gray hair.” She motioned the girl forward. “This is Violet, my daughter.”

  Violet had straight dark hair and knobby knees. She didn’t speak, only stared.

  “He got away from Violet. I’m grateful you were there and caught him. Thanks so much.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Are you next door?”

  “Yes. I’m Juli. Just me and my husband, Ben.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “Well, no harm done. All’s well.”

  She held her free hand over her chest. “No harm, except to my heart. It’s still racing.”

  “There’s a little gate with a latch at the entrance to your porch. That might slow him down next time.”

  Little Charlie wasn’t impressed by his mother’s distress. He protested and kicked his legs. With a rueful grin, Victoria said, “I’d better get back to unpacking. We’ll see you around.”

  Juli followed them back up the crossover. As she entered through the open gate on her side of the porch, Ben reached out and pulled her into his arms.