Somewhere by the Sea

by Verna Clay

  "Both. After I confronted the guest, I naturally thought she'd leave, but that was before my mom entered the picture and convinced her to stay."

  Brody sat back on his heels. "Something I don't understand is why someone who thinks she saw a ghost makes you so mad. You got feelings for her?"

  "Sweet Jesus, no. I got burned before by an angel-faced woman and I don't intend to make that mistake again. When I date I make sure the woman knows there are 'no strings' in our relationship." He made quote marks with his fingers.

  "So, since you're off limits to all women, why has this one got you tangled in knots?"

  "I'm not tangled–"

  Brody cut him off with a disbelieving look.

  Baxter cussed and went back to hammering.

  Garnering her courage, Faith opened the door to the museum and stepped inside. Vicky glanced up from her desk and smiled, but when she saw Faith her smile wavered. Before Vicky could speak, Faith said, "I'm really sorry about last night. I had no idea about your brother."

  Vicky picked up a pencil and absentmindedly twirled it between her fingers. "Baxter was pretty harsh on you, wasn't he?"

  Faith shrugged.

  "It's only because we grew up together and he saw everything my family went through."

  Faith said honestly, "I'm not angry with him. In fact, I was going to leave today, but Gabby talked me into staying."

  Vicky laid the pencil down.

  Since she wasn't sure how to broach the subject, Faith blurted, "The way I figure it, I talked to a boy who just happened to be named Owen and was playing with his dog. In fact, it's the only logical explanation. So, can we still be friends and forget what I said last night."

  Vicky pushed away from her desk and walked over to Faith. "Yes. Let's forget about last night and I'm sorry about Baxter's reaction. I'll talk to him."

  "No! I don't want to involve him anymore. I'll just go my way and he'll go his. We're adults and we can be civil. Promise you won't say anything to him."

  Vicky frowned. "Okay. I won't say anything. I promise."

  Later that day Faith returned to the art gallery and studied the picture of the child and dog.

  17: Warning

  Gabby sat on her front porch and lifted her needlepoint project onto her lap. Her disagreement that morning with Baxter had been refreshing. The way he kept carrying on about Faith was positive proof that he had feelings for her. Gabby knew her son. He was drawn to Faith physically and emotionally, and he was fighting it like it was World War III. She smiled.

  A car slowed and entered the drive that ran to the parking lot at the rear of the house. Her smile faded. It was Leonardo Constanzo. She lifted a hand to smooth her hair and then jerked it back when her mind traveled thirty-seven years into the past. She put the brakes on any remembrances.

  Methodically, she continued making cross stitches and stabbed her finger. "Damn!"

  Leo rounded the path leading from the back to the front and paused at the porch steps. "Lovely day," he said.

  "Yes. What brings you here, Leonardo?"

  He started up the steps and corrected her, "That's Leo. We've known each other too long, Gabriella." He grinned. "I mean Gabby."

  Gabby felt the usual kick to her gut whenever Leo smiled and purposefully pricked her finger again.

  He motioned to the wicker chair across from her. "May I?"

  "And if I say no?"

  His grinned widened. "I'll sit anyway." He folded his long, lean frame into the chair, which made Gabby aware of the extra pounds she carried, but usually didn't bother her.

  "You're looking well," he said. "I always liked your hair in a French braid down your back."

  Self consciously she brushed a wisp from her cheek and then berated herself. She wouldn't let Leo fluster her. Bluntly, she repeated, "Why are you here?"

  Leo's chiseled features again broke into a smile. "I love a woman who speaks her mind."

  Gabby frowned and waited for him to answer her question.

  His smile vanished. "I've come to warn you about someone."

  When he didn't continue, she said, "Who?"

  "Me."

  Her heart began thumping wildly.

  He said seriously, "We've been dancing around each other for years and you know it. There's always been an attraction between us and that kiss years ago nailed it."

  Anger made Gabby's heart pound even faster and she exclaimed, "I loved my husband–"

  "And I loved my wife. That goes without saying. We both had wonderful marriages, but our spouses are dead, and we're alive." He leaned closer. "And we both know that kiss lit a spark between us that's never died, whether you want to admit it or not."

  Gabby began gathering her needlepoint. "I will not discuss this."

  Leo reached a hand and placed it gently on her forearm. "I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately and I've come to the conclusion that I want you in my life Gabby, and not as a relative related by marriage."

  Lifting her gaze from Leo's hand to his eyes she felt immobilized. His eyes were just as blue as in his youth; just as blue as the day he'd lowered his head to hers in the boathouse and kissed her with a passion she'd never forgotten." She jerked her arm away and abruptly stood. "It's not possible."

  Before she entered the house he replied, "It is possible, and that's why I'm giving you fair warning that I'm out to win your heart once and for all."

  18: Doris and Dave; Darren, Dirk and Dog

  The week after Baxter's confrontation Faith often found herself reconsidering her decision to stay in Somewhere, but every time she thought about leaving, it made her heart ache. So, after ten days, she did something crazy; she pulled out the business card Sandy had given her for real estate agents Doris and Dave McGovern and made an appointment.

  On a cloudless Tuesday she drove to their office that was two streets off Main, and tried to appear businesslike, even though stepping out of her comfort zone had her heart thumping. She entered their office and a receptionist greeted her warmly, "Hello. Can I help you?"

  "Yes. I have an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. McGovern. My name is Faith Bennison."

  The young woman with wavy, shoulder-length hair that matched her flawless black complexion, smiled warmly. She was as beautiful as any contestant in a beauty pageant.

  The receptionist said, "Welcome Faith. My name is Malana. I'll let the McGoverns know you're here. Can I get you some coffee, orange juice, soda, water?"

  "Nothing, but thank you." Faith sat on the sofa across from the reception counter while Malana picked up the phone to announce her arrival. Glancing at the coffee table, she was pleasantly surprised to see the same tabletop picture book that had brought her to Somewhere. She smiled, picked it up, and turned to page ninety-two. Is this a sign that I should move here permanently? She heard a door open and footsteps in the hallway. Malana glanced up, smiled at her, and went back to typing. A moment later a large-boned black woman entered the waiting room with her hand extended. "Hello Ms. Bennison, or is it Mrs.?

  Faith shook the woman's hand and replied, "It's Mrs., although I'm a widow. Please call me Faith."

  The woman gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm Doris McGovern, but call me Doris. My husband, Dave, got called out on an emergency and he'll meet up with us later. Come on back to my office so we can get acquainted."

  Faith immediately liked Doris. She was just as friendly as Sandy had claimed. She followed the real estate agent down the hallway past four closed doors, two on each side, to a door at the end facing the hallway. Upon entering Doris' office, Faith was again impressed. It was light and airy, with pale yellow walls, aqua chairs, and several paintings reflecting the beauty of Somewhere. A long table behind the desk was placed under the only window in the room and held several framed photographs. Beyond the window an enclosed patio of profusely flowering hanging plants added charm and color to the setting.

  Doris reached for a photograph. "This is me and my husband on our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary, which was two
years ago." She handed it to Faith.

  In the picture Doris and a shorter man with fair skin and red hair, stood with their arms around each others' waists. Faith said, "It's a wonderful photo," and added uncharacteristically, "My husband and I would have been married eleven years in March." She noted sympathy in the other woman's eyes and said hastily, "The reason I'm here is because Sandy Gutierrez referred you, and I'm considering a permanent move to Somewhere."

  Doris replaced the picture, motioned for Faith to sit, and then sat behind her desk. "I've lived in Somewhere since my marriage to Dave, who was born here." She smiled. "We met at a protest march in D.C. and it was love at first sight. My first day in Somewhere, I also fell in love with the town, and neither of us would leave for all the money in the world. So I can understand your desire to possibly relocate." She typed into her laptop. "I'll pull up all the listings in Somewhere. If you see anything of interest, I'd be happy to take you there. As a matter of fact, I'm yours for the day and lunch is on me." She pointed to a flat screen on her wall. "We just installed this monitor six months ago and it's great for showcasing properties." She then asked Faith about her preferred areas and preferences in a home.

  Almost an hour later the women were saying goodbye to Malana and headed out the door. After they entered a Cadillac Escalade in the front parking lot, Doris said, "Malana is my granddaughter and she always spends summers with us. She lives in Denver and she'll be a senior this fall at the University of Colorado. Since childhood she's said, "Nana, I want to be just like you and Papa. I want to sell houses and live in Somewhere. Of course, we thought she would grow out of it, but she never has. Her mother and father insisted she attend the university, so she reached a compromise with them. She agreed to get a degree in business administration and then explore the job market, but if she still wanted to become a real estate broker after three years they would have to abide by her decision. And we said that if she chose that route, we'd teach her everything we know. So, I guess in four years we'll know her verdict."

  Doris had talked nonstop and now she put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot to enter street traffic. Since Faith had requested viewing houses on Hope Hill, she drove to a cross street and turned right, heading uphill. Their first stop was on Haven Drive, two-thirds of the way to the top. The home was a lovely two bedroom yellow cottage with white shutters and trim. The front of the house faced away from the ocean, but Doris said the view from the backyard was stunning. After walking through the twelve hundred square foot home that had been repainted inside and out and refurbished with maple cabinets and butcher block countertops, they stepped outside through the living room slider and onto the back terrace. The view was indeed stunning and similar to the one at Sandy's house. Faith walked across the yard to the fence that separated it from a home at a lower elevation.

  Doris joined her and explained, "Since the homes are built on a hill, many of them are not as private as some people like. They were built back in the 1950s when city planning was more lax, and that's why your back yard abuts the one behind it."

  Faith looked at the backyard of the other house that was strewn with children's toys and watched two boys playing in the dirt. Her heart wrenched and she blinked back tears. Her boy had loved playing in the dirt with his trucks. A large mixed breed dog happily circled and barked at the children. The dog saw her and ran to the fence, jumping against it. The boys turned and also ran to the fence. The younger one said, "Are you gonna be our neighbor?"

  Faith swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm not sure. I'm looking at several houses today."

  Doris said, "Hello, Darren and Dirk."

  The older boy said, "Hi, Mrs. McGovern."

  The younger one asked, "Is Mr. McGovern with you?"

  "No. He had business to take care of." She indicated Faith with a wave. "This is Mrs. Bennison."

  The first boy said, "I'm Darren," pointed to the other child, "and he's my little brother Dirk." The dog barked. "And that's Dog."

  Faith smiled. "His name is Dog?"

  "Yep," Dirk said. "It's kinda a joke 'cause Dog is a dog."

  Faith's smile widened. "I think it's a great joke."

  Both boys grinned.

  Doris asked, "Is your mother home?"

  "No. We got a sitter. Mom got called to work early."

  Doris chatted with the children for a minute longer and then said, "We better be on our way. I have more houses to show Mrs. Bennison."

  "Okay, but I hope you buy this one," said Darren and ran back to the dirt pile with Dirk. Dog jumped against the fence, barked, and then joined them.

  While Doris was locking up the house, she said, "The boys' mother is a waitress at Mama Pink's Diner."

  "Really? Maybe I've met her. What's her name?"

  "Taylor Jones. She usually works the dinner shift so she can be home with her boys most of the day."

  "I don't think I've met her."

  "Then let's have lunch there and I'll introduce you."

  19: Taylor

  Faith entered Mama Pink's Diner with Doris who waved a greeting to Mama Pink. A few minutes after they were settled Mama came to their table to hand them menus. "Howdy, ladies! Good to see ya'll! Taylor will take your orders in a few minutes." She winked at Faith. "And since you're in the company of our local real estate agent, I'm guessin' you're in the market for a home in our lovely haven by the sea."

  "I may be. Doris has shown me some beautiful properties."

  The women chatted a little longer and then Mama said, "Can I get ya'll some coffee? I just perked a fresh pot."

  "That sounds lovely," said Doris.

  "Yes. I'll have some, too."

  After Mama had served their coffees, a tall, slender brunette came to their table. She was dressed in jeans and the "uniform" of the diner, a pink T-shirt. Her hair was too short to be worn in a ponytail like the other waitresses, but the boyish cut was adorable.

  Doris said, "Hi Taylor. I'd like you to meet Faith Bennison. I just showed her the house behind yours." She grinned. "And just to let you know, Dirk and Darren were in the backyard seeing how dirty they could get with Dog."

  Taylor laughed. "I'm happy to meet you, Faith. Besides the dirt, I hope my boys were on their best behavior."

  Although her heart hurt, Faith responded with a smile. "They were delightful." She wanted to say how much her own boy had loved playing in the dirt, but, of course, that would have brought her to tears.

  New customers entered the diner and halted further small talk. Taylor said, "Our special today is roast beef and new potatoes and the vegetable of your choice. I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders."

  As Taylor walked away, Faith said, "What an incredibly beautiful woman and so personable."

  Doris leaned in slightly. "She moved here about two years ago and everyone tells her she should be a model. Sandy even offered to put a portfolio together for her and represent her to some agencies in Portland and Seattle, but she wouldn't hear of it."

  "Where did she move from?"

  "No one knows because she doesn't talk about her past."

  That surprised Faith, but before she could respond, Doris' cell phone beeped. She glanced at it and said, "It's a text from my husband. He needs to check on one of our properties on Ocean Boulevard and asks if we want to meet him there in an hour." She looked up. "Is that okay with you?"

  "Oh, yes. In fact, I'd love to see a house on Ocean Boulevard. I've heard they're incredible."

  "They certainly are, and this one is exceptional. It's selling for well over two million, but in my estimation, it's worth it."

  When Taylor returned to their table, Faith ordered a BLT sandwich and Doris ordered shrimp salad with French bread. While Taylor took their orders, Faith marveled at her beauty and wondered at what age a woman was too old for a modeling career. Taylor was probably in her late twenties, but appeared to be much younger.

  An hour later, Doris drove her Cadillac onto a circular drive and parked under a portico.
Faith was impressed by the home and Doris glanced knowingly at her. "See what I mean about this house. And if you think the outside is gorgeous, wait until you step inside."

  The front door opened and a red-headed, stocky man waved a greeting. Doris called, "Hi, honey." When they reached the door she said, "Dave, this is Faith Bennison." She turned to Faith. "Faith, my husband Dave."

  They exchanged greetings and Faith expressed how impressed she was with the homes she'd seen so far. "Your wife has shown me wonderful properties so I have much to consider."

  Dave said proudly, "Doris is an exceptional real estate woman." He stepped aside for them to enter the house. "Please come in. We're holding an open house tomorrow and I had to make sure everything is in order. I hope you don't mind being waylaid, Faith."

  "Not at all. In fact, I'm in awe of the homes on Ocean Boulevard."

  "And this is one of the finest. It's not as large as some, but what it lacks in interior space, it makes up for in outdoor space. The great room and the master suite have automatic glass pocket doors that open the entire length of their rooms. Come on, I'll give you the tour."

  Faith followed the real estate agents through a large marble foyer into the great room and exclaimed, "It's magnificent. I feel like I'm outside."

  Dave said, "Watch this," and walked to a touchscreen on the wall next to the glass. He tapped it and the windows instantly turned opaque. "It's called SmartGlass and makes the room invisible to the outside. Quite ingenious." He brought the windows back to transparency and touched the screen again. From the center, the pocket doors began retreating to each side.

  Faith was impressed and followed Doris outside onto a huge flagstone terrace with fire pit, outdoor kitchen for barbeques, colorful patio furniture arranged in klatches, hot tub and lap pool. It was luxury in the extreme. Beyond a natural stone barrier, waves pounded the shore less than a hundred feet away.