“We’re almost ready,” Beckham said, sitting back to look at his creation, a series of sandcastles molded and shaped to look like a village. “Now all we have to do is figure out where to put the lights?”
“I think I have it worked out. If we use this string of battery-operated mini lights we picked up at Ferguson’s, it’ll stay on for six hours. That is, if we set the timer to the maximum.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t take you six hours to convince her,” Beckham quipped. “We don’t have all night.”
Once they got the lights adjusted where they wanted them, Quentin reached in his pocket for his phone. He glanced around, checking to see if they were all set. “Okay, I’m texting her now.”
Could you come down to the beach?
Sydney was in her own house on Cape May when her phone dinged with Quentin’s text. Depressed and blue, she’d already changed out of her work clothes and put on a pair of pajamas. She’d built up a fire and had tried to lose herself in one of her romance novels. So when she read the message, she immediately responded.
Right now? I’m really not in the mood. Thanks though. How’s Beckham doing?
Back on the beach, Quentin let out a grunt. “I don’t believe this. She says she’s not in the mood to get out of the house.”
Beckham shook his head. “Jeez, tell her I’m freaking out and I really need to talk to her down here.”
Quentin chuckled while keying in the appropriate words and pushed send.
Seconds later she replied. Oh no. I’ll be right there.
He held out the phone for Beckham to see.
“Sweet. That did the trick. She’s on her way. Want me to leave you guys alone?”
“Nope. You deserve to be here to see her face the first time she sees what we’ve done.”
It had grown dark by the time Sydney reached the pathway. But a huge moon hung low in the night sky over the bay.
She let the moonlight guide her to the top of the rise. She saw the multi-colored lights first. But as she grew closer to the strip of sand, she could make out more detail.
There, spread out on the beach was a row of sandcastles, built to form a mini version of Pelican Pointe. There was a lighthouse and something that looked a lot like Bradford House. In between were the old cannery and the wharf. A dazzling string of lights wrapped through the street. In the middle of the village was written, “We love you. Will you marry us?”
Quentin held out a ring. “This belonged to my grandmother. I didn’t rip it off her finger or anything just for this purpose. Nonnie freely offered it up this afternoon for me to give to you.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She looked at Quentin first and then Beckham. Their eyes sparkled with hope.
She angled her body toward Quentin’s. “The answer has to be yes. Because I’ve known for weeks that I love you, too.” She shoved her hair back from her face. “How did you guys do this? It’s beautiful. How did you get this done in one afternoon?”
“It was Beckham’s idea. He planned it right down to the last detail and the moat in front of the cannery, which is supposed to be the hospital.”
“Why sandcastles, Beckham?” she had to ask.
The boy lifted a shoulder. “I read in a book once that they represent hope. That’s what I remember the most about my dad, the two of us on the beach building one together. He always liked sandcastles.” He looked over at Quentin. “And now I have a new dad. You’re here, too. I figure it has to be a good omen.”
Quentin snatched Sydney’s hand. “I know we’re putting you on the spot like this, but…”
“I’ve already said yes.”
“That’s not what I planned to say. Are you willing to take both of us on?”
“I’m pretty certain I can handle the job. Somewhere along the way, you two have become the reason I want to wake up in the morning.”
Quentin snaked his arm around her waist. “Let’s go up to the house. We have stockings to hang.”
“And a life to begin together.”
Epilogue
Five days later
Christmas Morning
Bradford House
Christmas morning, Beckham woke up and threw on his clothes. He tiptoed out into the hallway and down the staircase. No one was downstairs yet so he went into the living room where the tree stood. He was surprised to see the lights glittering because someone must have forgotten to turn them off the night before. He crept closer and was stunned to see a red Schwinn bicycle with front and rear racks parked at the back of the tree. He sucked in a breath, wondering if he might be dreaming. It was the most beautiful bike he’d ever seen.
“What are you waiting for?” Quentin asked. “Go check it out.”
“Is it really mine?”
“I don’t see anyone else needing a spiffy red bike like this. Although you might have to promise to give Stone a ride on it.”
“Are they going back to Tahoma soon?”
“Day after tomorrow. As hard as I tried I couldn’t pry Nonnie away from there. She’s too connected to the land. She wants you to spend summers there, though.”
“With her and Stone? Sure. I’d like that. What about living in Bradford House? Do we still get to be here?”
“I’m working on it. Logan’s agreed to sell it to me.”
“Sweet! When do we get to open the rest of the presents?”
“Don’t you want to check what’s in your stocking first?” Sydney called out from the doorway.
“I forgot about those.” Beckham went over to the fireplace where five stockings hung on the mantel, one for each of them and one for Buckley. He took down the one with his name embroidered on the front and started unloading the goodies. There were the usual candy and nuts, a few pieces of fruit, but at the bottom, he dug out his own cell phone. “Wow, this is really mine?”
“No, we got it for Buckley,” Quentin quipped. “Of course, it’s for you. Birthday present. A fourteen-year-old should be able to listen to his music on the bus.”
“While he’s doing his homework,” Sydney chimed in. “Tell him about the rest, Quentin.”
“There’s something else. Your grandmother wanted you to have her house. It’s up to you what you want to do with it. There are a couple of options. You can rent it out and the money will go into the bank each month for your college fund. Or you can sell it, and…”
“I know. I know. The money will go into the bank. I get it,” Beckham said. “I’m not sure I’m ready to sell Gram’s house yet.”
“That’s okay,” Quentin said. “No one’s forcing you to make a decision any time soon.”
Stone came in carrying a tray filled with cinnamon rolls and decanters of coffee and orange juice. He set it down on the table and drew out an envelope from his back pocket that he handed off to Quentin. “Kinsey dropped this off last night after you and Sydney went up to bed.”
“I bet that’s the settlement from the school district. The lawyer must’ve sent it over to Kinsey and she forwarded it here.”
Sydney poured herself a cup of coffee, lacing the black with a generous amount of cream. “Hey, five grand for Beckham’s college fund is nothing to sneeze at. And Kinsey got the Hargraves to pay for Beckham’s medical expenses.”
“Does the money have to go for college?” Beckham grumbled.
“Yes,” Quentin and Sydney sang out in unison.
“It will sit in your account for four years and grow interest,” Quentin added. “Not to mention if Kyle comes near you again, we’ll file assault charges against him. That’s in the official paperwork. Kinsey put the school board and his parents on notice.”
“I’m just glad Mrs. Hargraves had to resign. She won’t be back after the winter break,” Sydney gloated. “Let’s see how she likes going back to teaching.”
“The classroom is where it all begins and ends,” Winona said with fondness. “The best days were seeing eyes light up knowing they’d learned something they hadn’t known about before. This Hargraves woman
should take this as an opportunity to go back to her roots.”
“If only,” Sydney lamented.
“Aren’t you going to open the envelope?” Stone urged. “Kinsey was adamant that you open it today.”
Sydney titled her head. “Maybe she got Beckham more than the amount she quoted.”
“Could be.” Quentin tore open the flap and took out a Christmas card depicting a snowy town on the front with decorated trees in the yards and ornaments that glittered. “It’s just a Christmas card. How sweet.” But when he flipped it open he discovered it wasn’t from Kinsey.
“Read it out loud,” Sydney prompted.
I know you thought you were here to be the new doctor. But what brought you to town was the boy. Beckham needed a father and you needed a son. Do everything in your power to guide Beckham toward what he was meant to do in life. That’s medicine. The kid is exactly like you were at his age, inquisitive, thinks on his feet, is creative, and loves to put things back together, eventually that will include people. Who knows? Maybe one day your son will be the guy who figures out the cure for cancer.
And Sydney? Sydney had given up on a lot of things. Finding love was at the top of that list. Putting two people together is hard work, putting you two together was a gamble. You’re both a lot alike. Sometimes that works against the bigger picture. But melding you guys into a family, now that was the toughest part of all, but it was also the most rewarding.
Tell Beckham not to worry about his grandmother. She’s with me now and no longer in pain. I’ll see to it she dances every day. I’ll take care of her just as you and Sydney will take care of him.
And next time you hear from a patient who’s freaking out about seeing me, maybe you should remind them that life is a series of inexplicable events. Life doesn’t always keep you on the path you want, but sometimes must lead you to another, better path, to find the happiness you deserve. It could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened. You just need to keep an open mind. And always remember, in this town, no one stays lost for long.
Sydney went over to Quentin, laid her head on his shoulder. “I guess I did need help.”
“I think we all did.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sandcastles Under the Christmas Moon is Vickie McKeehan’s nineteenth novel.
She writes romantic suspense and makes her
home in Southern California.
Find Vickie online at
https://www.facebook.com/VickieMcKeehan
http://www.vickiemckeehan.com/
https://vickiemckeehan.wordpress.com
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