Home on Seashell Island

by Brenda Kennedy

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me.” I look at my sister’s sunglasses, which are now being used as a hair band to pull her hair from her face. Does she have any idea how stunning she is?

  “Me, too. I’ve missed you.”

  “How much longer are you staying?”

  “I’m heading home this evening.”

  I look at my sister in disbelief. “Why?” She looks beautiful in her yellow off-the-shoulder blouse and white shorts.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then you should stay here with me.”

  “I can’t. I have a job that I need to get back to. You know they frown on people for taking days off when they don’t have vacation time in the bank.” She smiles brightly. “Oh, wait. Being self-employed, you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t always self-employed. I hate that. I knew you couldn’t stay, but I didn’t realize you’d be leaving so soon.”

  “I wish I could stay longer.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’ll still be here next weekend, right?”

  “I have nowhere else to go.” Suddenly I feel sad.

  “Don’t say that. Honestly, you can come and stay with me.”

  “I know and I thank you, but I’m going to stay here and try to figure out what I’m going to do first.”

  “I understand. I’ll be back on Friday to spend the weekend with you.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to it.”

  We shop and as soon as we get back to the beach house, Sarah gets her things ready to leave. “Get some writing done. I’ll call you later, but I’ll be back on Friday.”

  “I threw my phone in the ocean last night.”

  “Why would you do that?” Before I can answer, she moves forward to the next question. “How are we supposed to get ahold of you?”

  Smiling, I say, “I guess I’ll see you on Friday, so I’ll just talk to you then.”

  She tosses her bag into her red convertible. “Seriously. Do you want me to leave you my phone? I can get another one when I get back home.”

  “Nope, I’m fine.”

  “I don’t know, Carly. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Sarah, I’m fine. I can use some peace and quiet.”

  “Okay. I’m sure you can. If you need me, go up to the church and call me, or go to the market and tell Tony you need to use the phone.”

  “I will. Be careful and hurry back.”

  Once she’s gone, I get Mean Mac and sit outside by the pool. Inhaling deeply, I begin the first chapter of my next book.

  I’m not sure how much time passes before I stop working. It feels good to get back to doing what I love. Although this book contains a lot of my own personal life, I’m determined to give the heroine a happily-ever-after.

  After deciding there’s nothing in the house to eat, I walk the short distance to the pizza shop down the road. I sit at the small two-top table in the corner of the room. While I wait for my wine and salad, I pretend to busy myself looking over the plastic menu. Now I remember why I don’t like eating out alone. I look as pathetic as I feel.

  “Is Sarah joining you this evening?”

  I look up and see Beau and Myra standing at my table. Placing the small menu back into the salt and pepper holder, I say, “No, sadly she had to go back home today.”

  “I see. Myra, do you remember Miss Carly?”

  “Hi, Miss Carly.”

  “Hi, Myra.”

  “Are you dining alone?”

  “I am. Would you care to join me?” I’m not sure if I should have asked them or not. What if he’s meeting someone here? What if this is a special occasion for him and his daughter?

  The waitress brings my wine and I suddenly feel like I must look like an alcoholic. Has he ever seen me when I wasn’t drinking? He must think I’m a lush.

  “Yes, we would love to.”

  Well, maybe he likes lushes. I’m just kidding. “Okay, great. Should we move to a larger table?” I begin to stand with my wine in hand.

  He gets the server’s attention to get the okay to move to a larger table. Once it’s approved, we all sit down.

  “Have you ordered yet?” Beau asks, sitting down.

  “I ordered a salad.”

  The waitress walks over and calls Beau by name, then says, “Hi, Myra.” She doesn’t wait for Myra to answer. “Beau, are you having your usual?”

  “What do you think, Myra? Should we have cheese pizza and juice?”

  “Okay.”

  “A juice for Myra and a Pepsi for me. Stephanie, can you make that a large pizza today?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  I interrupt. “Could you also hold off on my salad and bring it out with their meal?”

  “Absolutely.”

  When the waitress leaves, Beau says, “I didn’t expect Sarah to head back so soon.”

  “I didn’t either. I guess that’s what happens when you punch a time clock.”

  “I guess so.” He opens a small kid sample pack of crayons for Myra that came with her kid menu. Myra begins to color. “So, I hear you’re some big-time author now.”

  “An author, yes. But big-time, I think there’s some exaggeration to that.” I pick up my wine and take a drink of it. He watches me and I suddenly feel like I’ve just sinned. When the waitress brings their drinks, I ask for a water.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve recently Googled you and it was quite impressive.”

  What? Why would he Google me?

  “You’re quite the hype on the small island.”

  I lean in so no one but Beau can hear me. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I went to help Dad at the market and your books were all sold out. Everyone in the market was talking about the famous hometown author coming back to her roots.”

  I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed that my books are at the local market, or that people think I’m a big deal when I’m not. They would surely be disappointed when they realize I’m just an aspiring author. Sure, I make enough to pay my bills, bank some, and live comfortably, but I’m far from being a rock star.

  “My books are on the shelves at your dad’s market?”

  “Were. They were, but they’re sold out.”

  “I’m blaming Pap for this.”

  “Why are you embarrassed over your success?”

  “I’m not embarrassed. I’m just me. I’m nothing great or a big deal. I’m just Carly Stewart, who happens to write books that people like to read.”

  He nods his understanding. “I wouldn’t blame only your Pap as I know for a fact Dad has something to do with this.”

  Our food comes and Beau says grace before we eat. I’m thankful when I remember to wait. I guess it isn’t only Sarah I need to worry about. I watch as Beau is attentive to his daughter’s needs. He makes sure her pizza is cut into small enough pieces for her to eat without difficulty.

  Once she’s eating, I ask, “How old’s your daughter?”

  “She just turned three.”

  I want to ask how long he’s been a single dad, but I think that’s a bit intrusive and frankly, it’s none of my business.

  We eat in silence through most of the meal.

  “How’s the woman who runs the childcare at the church?”

  “Sadly, she’ll be taking some time off. Miss Jean is an older woman, and it seems she sprang her ankle.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. So was I.”

  I get an idea, but I don’t know if I should say anything since I’m indecisive about how long I’ll be on the island.

  “We’re currently searching for someone to run the childcare on Wednesday nights during choir practice until she’s well enough to return.”

  “I like Miss Jean, Daddy.”

  “I do, too, Cookie.”

  “Cookie?”

  “Yeah, she loves cookies. My dad nicknamed her that early on.”

  Nodding, I say, �
��Are you looking for someone only on Wednesday?”

  “We are. The choir is good enough that I think they don’t need to practice, but I guess they sound as good as they do because they do practice. Still, I guess missing a few weeks won’t hurt them.”

  “I’ll be on the island for a couple more weeks, and I’ll gladly fill in while I’m here.”

  “Carly, that would be wonderful. Are you sure?”

  “I am. I enjoyed listening to them practice and maybe Myra can help me with little Jimmy.”

  Myra looks up and says, “Jimmy can’t have no paint and sometimes he eats the glue and markers.”

  Beau looks surprised. “Jimmy’s eating glue and markers?”

  “Yeah, Daddy. I told him it’s bad.”

  “Maybe you should try and feed them their snacks first.”

  Beau looks at me with a smile. “That’s something we never tried before.”

  After dinner, Beau pays for our meal and takes the rest of the pizza to go. “Myra and I are going to take the leftover pizza to Miss Jean. Do you want to come with us?”

  I find him extremely attractive. Not just because of his looks but because he’s also charming and doting. I should really try to keep my distance from him.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I’m going to walk down by the water and look for sea glass.”

  I watch as he buckles Myra into her car seat. I wave goodbye to her before he closes her door.

  “Okay, have fun and we’ll see you at church tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for dinner and I’ll see you later,” I say as he gets into his car and pulls off.

  Did he just say he’ll see me at church tomorrow? I was actually planning on sleeping in. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he just set me up so I’d have to attend. Instead of looking for sea glass, I head home. Now I need to make sure I have something appropriate to wear.

  As I walk I notice the breeze in the air. It’s windier today than it has been; however, the skies are blue and cloudless. Doesn’t look or feel like rain.

  When I get home, I search my belongings for something suitable for church, but of course I don’t have anything. I do have a plethora of strapless sundresses and sexy stilettos. None of these will work for a place of worship. I search my sister’s closet and her wardrobe is more seductive than mine. Do I dare see what’s in my mother’s closet? The thought of wearing my mother’s clothing doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like I’m saying goodbye to my youth and all things that make me feel desirable. I might as well wear Gram’s housecoat.

  Chapter Four

  Carly

  Lucky for me I found a cute white cardigan tucked inside Mom’s cedar chest. It’ll go perfect with the pale-yellow sundress I plan to wear. The breeze is picking up so I decide to drive the short distance to the house of the Lord. The last thing I need is for the wind to catch under my dress and blow it over my head. A Marilyn Monroe image comes to mind. Gram and Pap wouldn’t be happy to learn their granddaughter was banned from church or arrested for indecent exposure. As the image invades my thoughts, I quickly change out of my thong and into a pair of full cheek cover-up panties.

  Everyone who lives on the island must be here today since every pew is full. At many churches, that happens only on Easter and Christmas. At one church a friend of mine went to, the pastor had a big nativity star by the altar on Christmas. At the beginning of his sermon, he asked his daughter, who was sitting in a front pew, “What’s different about the church today from the way it is at other times?” She shouted, “It’s full, Daddy!”

  I decide to take a seat in the back of church until Tony sees me.

  “Shorty, up here,” he shouts, waving his hand.

  Shyly, I wave to him and then make my way to the front of the church. Of course, he would be sitting in the front row with Myra beside him. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate attention and now I feel all eyes are on me.

  “Hi, Myra and Tony,” I whisper, taking a seat beside her.

  “Beauregard said you’d be joining us for the next few weeks.”

  Tony speaks a little too loudly in my opinion for a church, but then again, he is Italian and I’ve never known an Italian to speak weakly.

  I also never told Beau that I’d be attending church regularly during my visit. I did offer my services on Wednesday to help out with the children during choir practice. I’m beginning to see how Beau works. Before I can reply, the choir stands to sing.

  Myra colors and plays quietly during the service; however, she sings loudly and well to the songs she knows. She knows how to make a joyful noise unto the Lord, although “noise” is not the word I would use to describe her singing — but I know that back when the King James Version of the Bible was being created, the word “noise” meant a harmonious sound. Also back then, a noise of musicians was a group of musicians. I can think of a few modern groups of musicians I would call noises of musicians although not in a complimentary way.

  The service message this morning is that not everyone is perfect and that it’s always better to try to do right than not to try at all. I can’t help but feel this message is directed at me and Sarah. Maybe I shouldn’t think about noises of modern musicians. It’s a good service with lots of shouts of “Praise God” from the congregation.

  After church Tony says, “You sit with us during the potluck.”

  Potluck? I didn’t know about a potluck. Leaning in closer to him, I whisper, “I didn’t know there was a potluck.”

  Ignoring my comment, he stands and takes Myra’s hand. “Come on, Shorty. It’s through here.”

  Tony speaks to everyone as he walks past them.

  I didn’t bring a dish to contribute to the meal, but I can already tell he won’t care. I reluctantly follow everyone through the double doors leading into a separate room. The room is filled with tables and chairs, and a few of the tables are covered with food, drinks, and desserts.

  “Tony, I didn’t bring anything.”

  “No need to worry, Shorty. There’s always enough food for everyone.”

  Even though that may be correct, I still wish I’d known so I could have contributed to the feast.

  “Grandpa, I need to potty.”

  “Here, Tony. I’ll take her if that’s all right?”

  “Thank you, Shorty. It’s right through the door.”

  “C’mon, Myra.”

  When Myra’s done, I untuck the back of her dress from her panties while she washes her hands in the kid-sized sink. That would be social suicide if that happened to a woman in public. There’s no turning back after something like that occurs. You might as well pack up, move, and start all over again in a new state or possibly, a new country. Your friends would never let you live that down.

  “All done,” she says, drying off her hands.

  When we get back to Tony, everyone’s standing for the prayer. Myra and I stay at the door and wait until it’s over.

  “Amen,” she repeats after her father.

  I wasn’t raised up going to church every Sunday or praying before every meal, but I was raised to be spiritual. However, we did go to church every Sunday we spent on the island and every weekend we spent with Gram and Pap. Church was part of our vacation experience. I think after my dad died, Mom may have lost faith. To lose her husband leaving her single to raise two daughters, I can understand why she would have doubts. Losing her husband would make it hard for her to believe there’s a higher being and to always do good things and be kind to everyone, deserving of your kindness or not. But at what age would I have known to say “amen” after someone saying grace? Beau is definitely doing right things by his daughter.

  “Myra,” Beau says from across the room when he sees her searching the crowd.

  “There’s Daddy,” she says, pointing her small finger in his direction.

  We walk over to him and he watches me with kind eyes. He picks Myra up and kisses her cheek. “Daddy heard you singing. Did you like the songs the choir sang today?” he as
ks her.

  “I did. When can I be in the choir?”

  He smiles lovingly at his daughter. “When you get bigger.” He puts her down and smiles at me. “It’s good seeing you again.”

  “Thank you. I enjoyed your sermon.”

  “Thank you.” He gives me a knowing look. “Shall we eat?”

  “Beau, I’m not staying…”

  “Nonsense, Shorty. I already have your plate,” Tony says, lifting up two paper plates overflowing with food. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you a little of everything.”

  “What were you saying?” Beau asks with a raised brow.

  “You and your father are very presumptuous.” I follow Beau, Myra, and Tony to a nearby table.

  “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” I tease.

  “I know, but I took it as one.”

  Beau

  It’s been a long time since I’ve been interested in a woman. To be honest, I liked that my attention was solely on my faith and my family. But since Carly Stewart graced the island, my attention is slightly divided.

  I made a conscious decision to turn my entire life to God and that will never change. I also never considered that one day I might have an interest in someone. I just need to learn how to balance everything in a way God will approve.

  I’ve known Carly and her family my entire life, so when her Pap called to see if I could make the repairs on the beach house after the storm, I was more than happy to help out. It’s a small island and that’s what we do. We help one another in a time of need.

  I pick Myra up and we wait until Carly and Dad sit down to eat.

  “You ready to eat, Cookie?” I ask, walking with her to the buffet table.

  It’s a small church and the congregation decided about a year ago that since we’re all together and everyone needs to eat, we all should just bring the food to church and eat together. I honestly thought it would last a month or two before people would stop coming. But to my surprise, it’s still going strong. It works out well for everyone, and I know my mother would be happy if she were here to see it. The church and her faith meant everything to her. I’d like to think I made her proud by taking over the church after the last preacher left due to his declining health.