Whisper Beach

by Shelley Noble

  Suze almost missed the turn, screeching into a left turn at the last minute. “Sorry.”

  Dorie groaned. “Don’t kill the messenger.”

  “What big reference books?” Van hadn’t seen any books . . . There had been big books lined up along the shelves. She’d assumed they were logs and tide charts.

  Not tide charts; reference books. “Oh God. I’m an idiot.”

  “Pretty much,” Dorie agreed.

  “That still is no reason for him to get arrested for fighting with Bud Albright.”

  Dorie snorted a laugh. “Start thinking of something more than idiot to describe yourself. He wasn’t arrested. They took everyone down to the station. Bud Albright started it. Joe refused to fight him. That’s why he looks the way he does. Bud came looking for him tonight because Joe’s been trying to talk Dana into leaving him. We all have been. So Bud’s got it in his head that Joe is a rival for Dana’s affections.”

  “That’s so quaint.”

  They reached Dorie’s. Suze pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition.

  “Don’t get out. I’m not finished.”

  Van burned with embarrassment. She sat back to hear the rest.

  “So what you saw was the effects of a man sticking up for a friend.”

  “Then why didn’t he call his family to come get him instead of you?”

  “He didn’t want to worry them. And he didn’t want them down at the station. And he didn’t call me. Jerry did. Joe was just going to sit there until he came before the judge, bruises and all. He wasn’t too happy that we went and got him.”

  “But why is he even working at the marina if he’s got a vineyard to take care of?”

  “Oh, hell, Van, he’s helping out a friend. That’s what friends do, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “You make him sound like the golden boy of Whisper Beach.”

  “No, just an ordinary man, who cares about his family and helps his friends and has been a lifesaver to this old hen more times than I can count.”

  Dorie reached for the car door. “So maybe you should think about hustling your butt over there tomorrow and apologizing.”

  She got out and slammed the door.

  “I am such an ass,” Van said.

  “Pretty much,” Suze agreed.

  “I just saw those bottles and went a little nuts. I was so angry, so outraged.”

  “So disappointed?”

  “Yeah. He accused me of thinking they were all failures, because I had run away and made something of my life. And he was right.”

  And she was so wrong. “Whisper Beach obviously brings out the worst in me.”

  “Nah, the situation tonight just pushed all your buttons.”

  “It did,” Van admitted. In Manhattan, she was just a normal person going about building a business, but here in Whisper Beach, she felt how tenuous her escape had been. Could still be. And it brought out the worst parts of her.

  “I wish I had never come back.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re just smarting under the long lash of Dorie’s whip. But she’s right. You’re going to have to man up and go apologize.”

  “I’ll write him an I’m sorry card.”

  Suze snorted out a laugh.

  “What?”

  “You really think that’s an adequate apology?”

  “What do you suggest, I crawl across the mudflats and grovel at his feet?”

  Suze frowned at her. “No, you act like a responsible adult who can admit she was wrong and apologize to a man who deserves your respect.”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to see him again.”

  “Tough.” Suze tossed her the keys and went inside.

  Chapter 15

  DORIE AND DANA WERE WAITING FOR THEM IN THE KITCHEN.

  Dorie nodded and sat down at the table. “Getting too old for all this excitement.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble. I’ll pack my things.” Dana started for the door.

  Dorie smacked her hand on the table. “Between you and Van I’ve never seen two people in such a hurry to leave a place and people who want them to stay. And I got three words for the both of you.”

  “Get over yourself,” chorused Suze, Van, and even Dana who spoke the words under her breath.

  “So was Joe okay?” Dana asked.

  “He was until Van finished him with a one-two punch.”

  Dana shot a look at Van. “You didn’t.”

  “I didn’t hit him,” Van said. “I just . . . we had a little misunderstanding.”

  “All on Van’s part,” Dorie said.

  “Yeah, okay, all my fault. I’m going to bed.” Van didn’t wait for anyone to protest. She was pretty sure no one would.

  Van didn’t sleep all that well for obvious reasons. She’d jumped to conclusions and hurt someone she cared for—had cared for. Who according to all accounts was a good person. And it was because of her own insecurities and preconceptions.

  Okay, so she was a bitch. She’d apologize. She’d even go and apologize in person. That would be better than having to listen to Suze moan, Dorie chastise her, and God only knew what Dana thought. Probably glad Van had made a fool of herself.

  And there it was. She might as well admit it. She was petrified of appearing anything but completely put together, the happy, educated, professional success story.

  Was her success so tenuous that it couldn’t withstand a few honest mistakes? Would it fall in shambles if she forgave people who had also reaped the consequences of their, and subsequently her, actions?

  And if the life she’d carefully built could fall apart so easily, why was she holding on to it so tightly?

  THINGS DIDN’T LOOK much better when Van came down to the kitchen the next morning. She felt even more embarrassed, and she was dreading the apology she would have to make.

  Dorie set a cup of coffee down at her place. Her place. Funny how after a few days, they already had their own places. She sat.

  “Before you go apologize to Joe, will you drive Dana over to pick up some clothes? I’m getting sick of seeing that red T-shirt.”

  “She doesn’t have to,” Dana said.

  “I’ll be glad to,” Van said, resigned. She was determined to try to be at her best today.

  “Could you drop me off at Thirtieth, or is it too far out of your way?” Suze asked.

  “Of course,” Van said. “Have you been summoned by les parents?”

  “La mother. For lunch. I’m sure she thinks she can entice me back to the manse to work on, as Gigi called it, my little thingy. But, Dorie, don’t you dare think of renting out my room. Not only is it a great place to work, but the rest of the time it’s like living in reality TV.”

  So after a breakfast of eggs and toast that Dorie made and refused help for, Van dropped Suze off in the next town over and drove Dana across town to get her things.

  DORIE HAD JUST taken the wash out of the dryer and was folding sheets when the doorbell rang. She hadn’t heard Van’s car return, and she didn’t think Suze had been gone long enough to have come back already.

  She tossed the sheet on the top of the dryer. The bell rang again before she could get down the hall to answer it. She peered out the side window.

  It was Gigi. Dorie let her in.

  “How come the door was locked?”

  “Because we had a Bud Albright alert last night, and I decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Come on in.”

  “Where’s Van’s car?”

  “She had to drop Suze off at her parents’ house.”

  “Is Suze leaving?”

  “No, she’ll be back after lunch.”

  “So when is Van coming back?”

  “I asked her to take Dana over to pick up some of her things. She’s going to stay here for a while. Come on back while I finish folding the clothes.”

  She led Gigi back to the laundry room. Dorie saw a volatile situation on the horizon. She didn’t know Gigi that well. She’d hung out a
t the Crab with the others and had joined them in a few of their less outrageous escapades. Even stayed overnight here a few times. But not because she was in trouble. It was more like a sleepover to her.

  “Help me fold.” Dorie handed one end of the sheet to Gigi. “How are the kids?”

  “Fine. Did Van say when they’d be back?”

  “No.” Dorie made the last fold, but held on. “Are you thinking about going back to work soon?”

  “I have to.” Gigi’s voice cracked. “I don’t see why Dana doesn’t go home and take care of herself.”

  “She isn’t in a place where she can really take care of herself right now.” And neither are you.

  “Because everyone else is taking care of her.”

  Dorie took Gigi’s end of the sheet. “It may seem that way, but everyone has to take care of themselves. Look how well Van has done, and she only had herself to rely on.”

  “I would have helped her. I gave her money.”

  “I know and she was appreciative. But there comes a time—”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “No. What did you hear? You don’t have to worry about Bud breaking in.”

  “I’m not worried about him.”

  Gigi stressed the “him,” but Dorie was at a loss as to why. There was no reason why she should be worried about Bud or anyone else.

  The more Dorie saw of Gigi, the more she realized that her family and friends had done the girl a disservice. Always one of the “good” girls, that goodness had led to something close to total apathy. And to make it worse, she seemed incapable of standing on her own two feet.

  “Shall I carry these upstairs?”

  “Thanks. The linen closet is just outside the front bathroom.”

  That was a good sign. Trying to be helpful. She’d get Van to put her to work helping to restore the Crab. Maybe that would push her out of this awful lethargy.

  Dorie sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee. Well, life certainly wasn’t dull with these girls around, though she’d better stop thinking of them as girls. They were women, had been for a while. But hell, they still came to Dorie when the chips were down.

  Gigi came back into the kitchen a few minutes later. “I put the linens away. The mail came. I put it on the hall table.” She frowned. “Still nothing for Suze. I wonder what’s going to happen.”

  “Don’t you worry. Suze will take care of it—if she has to drive to the grant committee and wrestle them into giving her another chance.”

  “But the deadline.”

  “Yeah, that’s a problem. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  VAN AND DANA didn’t talk much, except for Dana giving her directions to the apartment complex where she shared an apartment with Bud. Dana didn’t invite her in, and Van didn’t offer to help her pack. She waited in the car looking at the two-story strip of apartments that must have been converted from an old motel. It was pretty depressing.

  “Are you sure Bud isn’t going to waylay us?” Van said.

  “Jerry called. He’s still in jail. I guess he tried to call me to get him out, but I had my phone turned off.” Dana smiled; her face was less bruised today, and she’d pretty much covered it up with makeup that she had borrowed from Dorie.

  Van didn’t comment. She’d forgotten how much people got into fights here. And how often it escalated into worse. “You wouldn’t have gone to get him?”

  Dana shrugged and got out of the car.

  She was gone so long that Van was beginning to worry that she wasn’t coming out again. Horrid things began to go through Van’s mind: Bud had gotten out of jail and was waiting for Dana upstairs; Dana had given in to despair and was guzzling a bottle of pills.

  Van was just about to go up and knock on the door when the door opened and Dana lugged out a heavy duffel bag.

  Van got out to help her down the stairs. They hoisted the bag into the backseat.

  “You rival Suze for heavy suitcases.”

  “She’s planning to stay for a while, isn’t she?”

  “I know she’d like to. I guess it’s dependent on her getting this grant. If she doesn’t, she’ll have to go back to Princeton to teach and try to write at the same time.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “I guess, though I can’t even imagine trying to write anything more than an apartment prospectus. Hell, even a grocery list is sometimes beyond me.”

  “Me, too,” Dana said. “I’m not going back this time. I’m really not.”

  “Good for you.”

  “But I feel bad.”

  “Good God, why? He beats you, and he gets drunk and beats other people. You should have seen Joe last night. Your boyfriend is a gorilla.” Van sucked in her breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “He’s not. Okay, maybe he is, but he had an abusive childhood. His father was a bully.”

  Now, there was an excuse. Van’s father was a bully, a drunk, and just plain mean. But she didn’t go around beating people up.

  “I thought— Well, I thought he would change.”

  “But he didn’t,” Van said, trying to sound sympathetic. Actually, she guessed she felt sympathetic. Though she didn’t understand how Dana could love someone like that. Of course her mother had loved her father. Hadn’t she?

  Now that she thought about it, she could only remember her parents fighting. And her mother had yelled just as loud as her father. Van pulled to the curb.

  “What? You want me to get out?” Dana’s hand was already reaching for the door handle.

  “No. No! I just freaked out for a second. Just sit. It’s not about you. Well, it’s sort of about you. And Bud.”

  “What? I’m pitiful, aren’t I? I know it, and I keep going back for more. I don’t know how to get him to stop what he’s doing, so we just fight.” She stopped, then said more quietly. “It’s what we do best together.”

  Van turned to look at her. Really looked at her.

  “I know it’s no good. But I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Why?”

  Dana took a long time to answer. “I love him?”

  “Is that a question?”

  Dana buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know. I feel sorry for him, and he knows it. And I think that’s what makes him crazy.”

  “Well, I can understand that, because who would want someone to stay with them just because the person feels sorry for them? But I don’t accept the hitting-you part.”

  “I know. I’m so screwed up.”

  Van sighed. She didn’t have a word of encouragement. She had no idea what to say, more so because suddenly she began to understand what Dana was talking about. “I think there are therapists who can help.”

  Dana snorted. “Sure, just try to get Bud to go to one.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? Why would I go to one?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because it takes two of you to make an argument.”

  “You don’t know Bud.”

  And Van was glad she didn’t. “When is he going to stop, Dana? When he breaks your bones, when he kills you?”

  Dana finally looked up. “Joe says the same thing, but Bud wouldn’t kill me, would he?”

  “I have no idea. I lived with an abusive father, but he stopped at yelling at my mother. I don’t think he ever hit her. I never was aware of it if he did.”

  “You told everybody that he killed her.”

  “Well, he did in a way. She wanted him to pick her up from work, but he was drunk and told her to get a ride. She walked home instead. It was rainy, the streets were slick, and a car slid into her when she was only two blocks away. She almost made it home.” Van sucked in air as the pain of that night filled her.

  Dana stared. “That’s it?”

  “You need more?”

  “Why didn’t she just get a ride?”

  It was Van’s turn to stare. It was just what Nate had said. And for the first time in her life, Van as
ked herself, Why hadn’t she gotten a ride home? If she had . . . if she had, what? Life would have gone on, all of them miserable and trapped in a cold, unloving family. As it was, the family dissolved. She didn’t know what had happened to her father, and she didn’t care.

  Her mother’s death had driven Van and her father apart. They struggled along for a couple of years, living in the same space, ignoring each other. Instead of being happy that the wife he didn’t love was dead, her father spiraled down to a place that Van couldn’t imagine, locking his bedroom door and not communicating. Van went to school and work, came home, and left the money she made on the kitchen table.

  Then the rest of her life fell apart, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  “I think you have to leave him permanently, Dana.”

  Dana nodded, and Van looked away as the tears started to fall.

  She pulled back into traffic and drove back to the beach. She was totally out of her area of expertise. She might not have helped Dana, but she’d made things clearer for herself. No more expecting the worst—from people or from life. She’d drop Dana off and then go to the marina and apologize.

  VAN STOPPED AT Dorie’s and went inside. She knew it was stupid, but even though she was just going to the marina long enough to apologize, she didn’t want to look thrown together. A little light makeup was in order.

  She stuck her head into the kitchen before she left.

  “I’m going to apologize, Dorie. When I get back, if you want, we can start going over some ideas for the Crab.”

  “Okay. Just so you know. Gigi was here.”

  “Oh damn, I forgot about Gigi.”

  “I told her Suze was out for the day and you had business to take care of and we’d see her tomorrow. I think we could all use a break. And, besides, I think we should have a little chat about her. But it can wait. Get going. And don’t hurry back.”

  Van gave her a look that made Dorie shrug innocently.

  SHE ARRIVED AT the marina much too quickly. She had tried to think of a way to apologize that would sound intelligent and sincere, and that she would still come out unscathed. She wasn’t having much success.