Home on Seashell Island

by Brenda Kennedy

  “Is that what you heard?” Beau says with a perfectly arched brow.

  Sarah walks down the hallway and tosses us a few towels. I bend down and start to dry off Myra. “I’m sorry about you getting your pretty dress all wet.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Beau picks up his cell phone and asks, “What do you want on your pizza?”

  “Daddy, I like cheese pizza.”

  Sarah yells from the other room. “Whatever is fine with me.” Beau looks down at me as I dry Myra’s hair. “No onions, or olives, or peppers. I hate ham, but get extra cheese,” Sarah adds.

  Beau’s still waiting for my reply. “I’ll eat anything.”

  “Is cheese and pepperoni okay?” he whispers.

  “Yeah, that’s good,” Sarah yells from the other room.

  Laughing, I nod my head.

  “Okay,” he says loud enough for Sarah to hear. I have no idea how she heard him say any of that.

  He walks away and calls to place a pizza order.

  “Do you like cartoons?”

  “Yay. I love them.”

  “Good, let’s get you a blanket and we’ll see what’s on TV.”

  I set Myra on the couch and cover her with a blanket before flicking through the hundreds of useless stations. Finally, I find some kid-friendly shows, or so I think. I soon realize how violent cartoons can be. I cringe as I watch some of them.

  “Daddy lets me watch Veggie Tales.” She waits patiently until I find it. “That’s it.”

  I put the channel to memory in case they ever come back. “Are you warm enough?” She nods her head never looking away from the dancing celery. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to change. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Sarah walks down the hallway wearing sweats and a tee-shirt.

  “Beau’s ordering pizza, Myra’s watching cartoons, and I’m going to change. Please watch her until I get back.”

  “Okay. I’m really sorry about this evening. I was hoping it would go better than it is.”

  “Don’t be sorry. We didn’t know the skies would open and we’d have a downpour in the middle of dinner.”

  “Maybe next time we should listen to our guests.”

  “Duly noted.”

  I quickly change and wonder what else could go wrong.

  I decide on a pair of black yoga pants and an oversized pink sweatshirt. My hair is still slightly damp, so I decide to leave it in the ponytail. I just hope it doesn’t frizz too much. I tried to look nice and girly, and look where that got me.

  Myra falls asleep before the pizza arrives. I feel bad, but I’m thankful that she at least got to eat most of her dinner. Beau, Sarah, and I sit at the dining room table enjoying the pizza and each other’s company.

  “Beau, to be honest, I’m not sure how to act around you.”

  I glare at Sarah for even saying such a thing.

  “Because of my position in the church?” he asks.

  “Exactly. I’ve been afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing all evening.”

  He leans up in his chair. “We’ve known each other a long time; I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” He runs his index finger across his bottom lip. “Is there something you want to do that you think I’ll frown upon?”

  I hold my breath waiting for her to reply. I have no idea what she’ll say, as anything could fly out of her mouth.

  “It’s not bad and I’m sure there are much worse things…”

  “For God’s sake, Sarah, just say it.” When I realize I just said God’s name in vain I want to run and hide from embarrassment. I can feel the heat rise to my face from shame.

  “It’s okay, Carly,” he says looking at the embarrassment on my face. “What is it, Sarah?”

  “I usually have wine with my dinner. Will that be offensive to you or a sin if I do?”

  He tosses his head back and laughs. “I’m Italian and have you forgotten who my father is?”

  “You mean he still drinks?” Sarah looks pleasantly surprised.

  “Dad’s the same, although I need to give him credit. He does try very hard to mind his manners while we’re in church.”

  Sarah picks up the partially full wine bottle. “So, I won’t go to hell for having wine with you here?”

  “Only God knows that answer, but I’m fine with you having a glass or two.”

  She pours herself a full glass. “You should have become a priest so you could drink with me.”

  I don’t know if I should laugh or feel bad for her. “Everyone should be Catholic just so they can consume alcohol.” I’m hoping she’ll hear what I said and maybe it’ll dawn on her.

  “I know, right!” she agrees.

  Looking over at Beau, we both smile.

  The sound of the rain on the roof becomes soothing and it doesn’t sound as angry as it did. Sarah decided to have a glass of wine and I’m glad she did. She seems more relaxed and less afraid that she’s going to say or do something wrong. I’m sure the wine’s making her more relaxed.

  “Beau, how long has it been since we saw you?”

  “Dad and I were talking about this last night. He said at Carly’s graduation.”

  “That’s the last time we saw him and your mom, but I don’t remember you being there.”

  “That’s right. I wasn’t there.”

  “Good, I thought I was going crazy.”

  “Rest assured, you’re not. That must have been when I left the island in search of happiness.”

  Sarah laughs. “We all made that mistake.”

  Beau and I look over at Sarah. I never knew my sister to be unhappy. Ever.

  “You can relate to that, Sarah?”

  “Yeah, I guess I can. I think coming back to the island after being away for so long kind of lets you see things differently.”

  “That it does,” I agree.

  “Are either of you thinking of moving back?”

  “Well, we never really lived here for any length of time.” I take a small sip of my water. “This is our family’s vacation home. We were here only for holidays and for the summers.”

  I remember the days we spent on the beach or just bike riding. “I wouldn’t mind living here full-time,” I admit for the first time.

  “You can see yourself living here?” a shocked Sarah asks.

  “I like it here. I could work from home and find sea glass in my spare time. Yeah, I think it might be nice living here.”

  “Finding sea glass is one of my favorite pastimes,” Beau says, looking at me. “I’ll have to show you where I go on the island to find sea glass.”

  “Okay, I’d like that.”

  Beau looks away from me to Sarah. “What about you?”

  “Nope. I’m not ready to be isolated from the world yet. There’s still things I want to see and do before I commit to living on Seashell Island full-time.”

  “My dad always said salt life wasn’t for everyone.”

  I sense sadness in Beau’s tone. What does he mean by that? Is he talking about Myra’s mom? I remember Tony telling Sarah and me that she left Beau and Myra. How could anyone walk out of a child’s life?

  “So, what made you become a preacher?” Sarah asks, refilling her glass of wine.

  “I was always spiritual but I was never really religious. Then something happened to cause me to question my faith.”

  “When your mother died?” I blurt out. I cover my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “It’s okay, no apologies are needed. I have no secrets, and yes, you’re right. Mom suffered an agonizing death and I wondered if there was a God why He would allow something like that to happen to her.” He looks over at his sleeping daughter. “As hard as it was for Dad and me to watch, she had it a hundred times worse.”

  “Beau, we’re so sorry we weren’t there for her funeral.” Sarah reaches up and takes his hand. I wish I was comfortable enough to do that. “We feel terrible for not taking the time to be there for you and
Tony,” Sarah says openly and truthfully.

  “To be honest, I have no idea who was there and who wasn’t. I was in my own personal hell.” That night and many nights after, I prayed to God and sometimes I even yelled at Him to prove to me He was real.”

  “I don’t understand?” How can God prove He’s real?

  “Shortly afterward, my wife found out she was pregnant.”

  Chapter Three

  Carly

  Beau leaves with his daughter as soon as the rain stops. I still have goosebumps from his story.

  “Why do you think his wife left him?” Sarah asks as she carries in some of the dishes from the patio.

  “I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to ask.”

  I stand at the kitchen counter putting away the food. “Do you remember he said something about his dad saying salt life wasn’t for everyone?”

  “Yeah, he also said he left the island to find happiness.” I put the food in the refrigerator and start wiping off the counter. “Maybe she was on drugs.”

  “Anything’s possible.” Sarah locks up the patio door. “Wine?” she asks, holding up the nearly empty bottle.

  “Yeah, thanks.” She walks over and hands me the bottle as she walks into the family room. What, no glass? I decide to drink it from the bottle. It won’t be the first time. I am quite the wine enthusiast.

  “Are you really thinking about moving here?” I take the wine bottle with me and follow her to the white slipcovered couch. “Don’t spill that, you know how Gram is.”

  Gram would be pissed if I spilled the red wine on her new slipcovered couch. “I don’t have anything in New York to keep me there.”

  “Where’s all your stuff, in storage?”

  “Yeah. I called a moving company to pack up my things while Spencer was at work. They’re storing it for me until I decide what to do with my life.”

  “You could always come and stay with me.”

  I never even considered staying with my sister. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather eat raw snails than live with you.”

  She tosses a pillow at me, and I almost drop the wine bottle. The wine’s mostly gone, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take much of the red wine to ruin the entire couch.

  “You don’t think you’ll fit in?”

  “Let me see.” I tilt the bottle back and swallow what’s left of it. “You’re nearly a lesbian. Your boyfriend’s getting hammered in his ass by your male best friend, and although I’m fine with all that, I just don’t see how I would fit into that lifestyle.”

  Sarah and I both bust out laughing. “Just because I kissed a girl doesn’t make me a lesbian. I like dick just as much as the next gal.”

  “Or guy,” I tease.

  She tosses another pillow and says, “Man, my lifestyle sounds bad. I think I need Jesus.”

  “Do ya think?” Picking up both pillows, I ask, “How long are you planning on staying here?”

  “I told Gram and Pap I would be here for a few days. What about you?”

  “A couple weeks, a month maybe.”

  “Then what will you do?” Sarah props her feet up on the chair and covers herself with the same blanket that Myra used.

  “Maybe buy a bungalow near the water?”

  “No plans of returning to the Big Apple?”

  “I don’t think so.” I think about how quickly I left. “I think I should call Spencer and talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I kind of just up and left. I didn’t even give him back his engagement ring.”

  “Who cares?”

  “I do. He probably does. It just seems like the right thing to do.”

  She thinks for a minute before changing the subject. “I think you should try talking to Beau. You two looked nice together tonight at dinner.”

  “Oh, no. I just got out of a relationship. I’m not about to get involved in another one.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Sarah never agrees with me so easily. “I am?”

  “Absolutely, we need to find out why his wife left him first.” She stands and folds the throw she was covered with and puts it back into the hand-woven basket Gram bought from one of the local shops on the island. “Maybe he’s a jerk in disguise.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Me, too. He seems like a great guy.” I silently agree. “I’m heading to bed. Do you want to do some shopping tomorrow and have lunch at Jo’s Tiki Hut?”

  “Sounds like fun. Good night, Sarah.”

  “Good night, Carly. Don’t call that asshole. If you left him, I’m sure it was for a good reason. Even if you won’t admit it.”

  “Yeah, because a laugh snort is a good reason.”

  She laughs and then snorts. “If it’s annoying, it’s a good reason to leave. Just remember, you have to live with that nuisance forever.”

  “Good point. Good night, Sarah.”

  Sarah goes to bed and I walk outside inhaling the fresh smell of rain. I stand on the wet patio debating whether to call Spencer. I feel bad about the way I left, even though I know leaving him was the right thing to do.

  I pick up my phone, and when I see his name in my contacts I hit connect.

  “Hello,” a sultry voice answers.

  Caught off guard, I try to sound strong and confident.

  “Hello, I think I may have called you in error. I was calling Spencer Roberts.” I’m hoping this is the wrong number although I know it’s impossible.

  “Spence, it’s her,” she yells from a distance, not speaking to me, but to Spencer.

  With rapidly beating heart, sweaty palms, and confused brain, I wait for Spencer to come to the phone. Sarah was right. I shouldn’t have called.

  “Carly?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I don’t want to keep you, I’m just calling to make sure the movers got my stuff out of the apartment.”

  “Yeah, they did. They took everything on your list.”

  “Spencer, I’m sorry about the way things ended with us.” I am sorry, but I didn’t expect to tell him that.

  “Spence, are you coming to bed?” I hear the sultry voice say in the background. I have to admit that hurts a little bit. We were engaged. I’m pained that he was able to move on so quickly. Did nothing we had mean anything to him?

  “Is there anything else you needed, Carly?”

  “No, that was it.”

  “Hey, before I hang up, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind returning that engagement ring back to me since you’re the one who called it off and all?”

  More hurt than shocked, I say, “I’ll have it in the mail to you tomorrow.”

  I disconnect the call before he can reply. Walking the short distance to the bay, I welcome the tears. I’m not sure when I last cried and I’m not sure why I’m crying now. Maybe it’s because I was so easily replaced. My family has always made me feel like I was special and one of a kind. I guess this proves them wrong. It took less than a week for Spencer to move on and find a replacement for me. I take my cellphone and remove the engagement ring from my finger and toss them both into the ocean. I’ll be damned if he gives my engagement ring to some bim-bam-blam-wham-bam-thank-you-ma’m-bo, or for short, bimbo.

  I’m tempted to send him a ring from a Cracker Jack box, but I’ll just put him out of my life.

  The next morning Sarah and I are both up before dawn.

  “I was just going for a run. Do you want to come with me?”

  I look at my sister in her spandex black sports bra, pants, and tennis shoes. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail.

  “Did you put makeup on?” I ask in disbelief.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous,” she says, looking away.

  I walk over to her and look at her more closely. “Is that fresh eyeliner?” She did put makeup on.

  “Okay, I just touched it up a little. It’s waterproof. It’s made for an intensive workout,” she lies.

  “That’s not what waterproof makeup is for.” I look
at her more closely. She’s stunning. “Why are you all done up for a run on the beach?”

  “It’s just eyeliner, I swear.” She bends over and ties her shoe. “Have you seen Beau?” She doesn’t wait for me to reply. “I’m pretty sure there’s more where that hunk of a man came from.”

  “You’re looking for a man?”

  “Not looking but you never know when you might meet someone.” She stands up and stretches. “You coming or not?”

  I think about what she says. I’m single. Although I’m not looking, maybe Mr. Right is on this island. “Hell yeah, I’m coming. Let me get ready.”

  I dress in my finest running gear that I brought with me, apply some lip gloss and waterproof eyeliner, and pull my hair back—and I still look like I just rolled out of bed. I walk out to meet my sister. She’s leaning against the kitchen counter hydrating with water. She’s stunning and toned, and she has a beautiful soul.

  “That’s also the gene I didn’t get.”

  She stands up and looks at me. “What are you talking about? You look amazing.”

  “Oh, shut up and let’s go.”

  We both listen to music as we run along the five-mile stretch of white sandy beach. Just as she suspected, we see several other people out running or walking the long stretch of clear-blue water. It seems nearly everyone on the island is fit and beautiful. I slow down and we walk the last mile home.

  “Did you call Dickwad last night?”

  “Spencer?” I clarify.

  “Yeah, Dickwad Spencer.”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “A woman answered his cellphone.”

  “No way,” she says in disbelief.

  “He asked for his ring back after I heard her ask him if he was coming to bed.”

  “I hope you’re kidding, but I can see in your eyes you’re not.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’m just surprised to see I’m that easy to replace.”

  “You’re not and he’s a freaking idiot.”

  I look over with a smile. “He is, isn’t he?”

  “You bet your ass he is.”

  “Come on. I’ll race you home.”

  Once we shower and dress, we head out to do some shopping. We have lunch at Jo’s Tiki Hut on Pelican Way before we make our way down the tree-lined main street also known as Shell Lane.