"Now you're making me feel guilty, Dad."
"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, sweetie. I'm just proud of you, and I want you to have a better—an easier life than I had."
I stared at the floor and took a deep breath.
"Maybe you can call them on Monday and say you've reconsidered. I'm sure they'll set up another interview."
"I already promised Mrs. Hunt I'd help her out this summer."
"What does that even mean, help her out? What will you be doing?"
"I don't know, Dad. She hasn't really made that clear. I know I'll start by going to the beach for a week. I already told her I'd go, and I don't want to back out."
"How much is she paying you?"
"We haven't really talked about that, either. I told her I had bills to pay, and she said she'd make sure they were covered."
He closed his eyes and shook his head as if this were the most hair brained scheme he'd ever heard. "We know nothing about this woman, Paige."
"I'll be fine, Dad. It's not gonna kill me to take a summer off."
"Maybe not, but what happens at the end of the summer when Harris has already filled the position and they've replaced you at your other jobs?"
"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there, Dad."
"Just sleep on it tonight," he said. "There's no shame in changing your mind."
***
Two days later, I was in a car with Diane Hunt, making the four-hour drive from the north side of Charlotte to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
My little brother, Seth, wanted to use my car while I was away, so Diane agreed to pick me up at my house. My dad came out to meet her when she arrived, which was only slightly embarrassing. Apparently, she passed his inspection, because he kissed me on the head and said he hoped I had fun on the trip. He gave me a wad of cash, which I thanked him for but didn't count before putting in my pocket. He made me promise to check in regularly.
Diane was driving a Volvo SUV, and she threw me the keys. I assumed by her gesture that driving was part of my duties, so I got into the driver's seat without question. We talked about my family during the first part of the trip. She asked questions about my parents and brother, and about my goals in general.
I was honest with her about my life, even though it wasn't necessarily glamorous. My mother was an addict who had walked out on us when Seth and I were young, and my dad had done his best to provide for us. I told her he had been reluctant about me passing up the job at Harris, but tried to be understanding even though he thought it was a bad idea. She took up for him, saying he only wanted what was best for me, which I already knew.
She asked me tons of questions—things about my likes and dislikes, and questions about my opinions both political and spiritual. It seemed important to her to learn that I was a Christian, which made me feel slightly better about us leaving the state together. I would have just about jumped out of a moving vehicle if she said she was part of some religious cult or something.
The conversation during our trip felt a bit like a job interview, but I was completely comfortable around Mrs. Hunt and didn't mind sharing about myself. Besides, she'd already agreed to hire me for the summer, so the interview (if there had been one) was technically over. We were somewhat stuck with each other at this point, which was okay because we had a lot in common despite our age difference.
After we talked about my family, she told me about what to expect at the beach house. The 'June trip', as she called it, was something she and her family did every summer.
"So you have three kids?" I asked, trying to wrap my brain around everything she'd just told me.
"David, Dan, and Denise. They're all married with children. I have six grandbabies and two great-grandbabies. David, the oldest, has one son. Danny has two boys and a girl, and Denise has a son and a daughter."
"And they'll all be at the beach house?"
She sighed, which made me glance at her from across the console.
"It's a mandatory vacation. It's the same week every year, and I try my best not to give them an option about coming." She paused and let out another long sigh. "Denise and her family are out in California, though. She hasn't come right out and said they were coming this year, so I'm not a hundred percent that her crew will make it."
"Where do the others live?" I asked.
"David and Dan are both still in Charlotte. They'll all meet us there tomorrow. I always come a day early to get groceries and make sure the house is ready."
And this is where I come in, I thought. I pictured myself scrubbing toilets and making trips to the grocery store with a long list.
"I'm not a bad cook, but I'm not promising anything," I said as soon as it crossed my mind that she might want me to cook for her family.
She laughed. "If I would have wanted someone to cook, I would have asked a chef to come along."
I glanced at her before quickly refocusing on the road, and she reached out and put her hand on my arm.
"You need to relax, Paige. Just think of it as a vacation."
***
I was astounded by the size of the gorgeous beach house she led me to. It was a soothing shade of seafoam green with white accents and shutters. It was hard to tell with the way it was set up on piers, but it seemed to be at least three stories with a huge staircase leading up to the main entrance.
"This is amazing," I said staring at it through the driver's side window after I put the Volvo in park.
She opened the passenger's door without hesitation. "Six bedrooms," she said. "I thought we'd never grow out of it, but it gets smaller and smaller as the grandkids get bigger and bigger." She turned and smiled at me with a hint of regret. "I hope you don’t mind sleeping on a couch. I have some really nice sofas with memory foam cushions."
"I don't mind sleeping on a couch at all," I said.
I turned off the engine and stepped onto the driveway, stretching once I got out. I couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful house. I'd never in my life stayed in such a nice place. I wasn't sure if I'd ever even seen one up close.
"Is this a timeshare or something?" I asked as we grabbed our bags out of the back of the SUV.
"It's mine," she said, "—although my kids and their friends use it more than I do. My late husband bought it for me as an anniversary present. He knew how badly I wanted a place where we could get the whole family together. Even though most of us live in Charlotte, we only get to see each other in passing or during the holidays. It's nice to be stuck together for a whole week. There's something to be said for that. I figured a place on the beach would keep them coming back year after year."
I stood in the driveway and peered up at the beautiful mansion. I couldn't see it from where I was standing, but I could both smell and hear the ocean. "This place would certainly keep me coming back year after year," I murmured nostalgically.
"Well, come on, what are you waiting for, then?" she asked, walking ahead of me. She unlocked the front door, and I followed her inside. The place was spotless. It smelled clean and inviting, and all the visions I had of scrubbing toilets were completely wiped from my mind.
"There's a big family room on the third floor," she said, gesturing to the stairs. "One of the bedrooms is up there too. You can sleep in the bed tonight, but if Denise and her crew decide to grace us with their presence, which I'm sure they will, you might get kicked out onto one of the couches."
"I'm fine with a couch," I said. "I might just go ahead and claim one of them if it's all the same to you."
"Make yourself at home up there. There's a little kitchenette with a microwave and mini-fridge. We'll go to the store in a little bit to stock up."
"Sounds perfect," I said. "I'll put my things away and meet you back down here in a few minutes."
"Take your time," she said. "And make yourself at home."
"Thank you!" I called from over my shoulder as I started up the stairs. I peered into the second floor briefly, but really didn't stop to take it in befo
re heading up to the third.
I rounded the corner of the staircase, and could see that the third floor consisted of a giant family room just as Diane described. There were four couches and a couple of oversized chairs spread across the room. Some of them were facing the giant television, and some of them were facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the back wall, overlooking the ocean. I walked toward the back of the room, staring dazedly out the windows. It was hard to believe that I'd be staying in this house for a whole week. It was even harder to believe that she may or may not be paying me to do so.
A fifth couch was tucked away in its own little area by the back windows. It was out of the way, thus it was a no-brainer that I'd choose it as a place to set up camp. I had a small suitcase and a duffel bag with me, and I set them both next to the nearby end table before plopping down on it with a sigh.
For the next few minutes, I just sat there taking in my surroundings. Then, I finally fished my phone out of my purse and composed a text to my dad.
Me: "We made it. It's a mansion. I'm sitting on a couch on the third floor, staring at the ocean. No regrets. She's a nice lady. I love you."
I didn't even wait for a response before texting my brother (who was also one of my best friends).
Me: "Hey bubs. You should see my digs for the week. I'm pretty sure Brad and Angelina live next door. I'm staring at a giant TV with at least two game consoles. Wish you were here."
I heard from Seth almost instantly.
Seth: "Shut-up! Send pics. Love u."
I was snapping a picture to send when I heard back from my dad.
Dad: "I'm glad you had a good trip. Thanks for letting me know. Please check in often. Have fun, sweetie. I love you, Dad."
I smiled, thinking about how many times I'd told my dad he didn't need to sign his name to a text.
I stood up and took several pictures of the room, including a few of the ocean view. I was deciding which ones to send when I heard footsteps running up the stairs. I barely had time to glance toward the staircase when I saw a small child burst into the room and throw herself onto one of the couches.
"I beat yooou!" she called in the most adorable baby-talk voices I'd ever heard. She startled me at first, but I figured it was one of Diane's grandkids who had gotten there before expected.
"I don't want to scare you," I said, cautiously as I tiptoed over to the couch where the munchkin was lying.
She smiled at me when she first caught sight of me, but her face fell as soon as she realized she had no idea who I was.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm your grandma's friend. My name's Paige."
I saw her attention shift to the staircase, and I looked in that direction to find an extremely handsome young man staring at us with great interest. He was loaded down with bags, but made no move to set them down.
"You must be David or Dan," I said, stashing my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I waved. "My name's Paige. I'm here with your mom."
"You mean my grandma?" he asked, looking somewhat confused.
I tilted my head and returned his confused expression. "I'm here with Ms. Diane," I clarified.
He smiled. "That's my grandma," he said.
"Dan's my dad. My name's Cody. This is my daughter, Ryan."
It took a second for what he was saying to sink in. Diane had told me she had great-grandchildren, but this whole time, she had been referring to her grandchildren as her "grandbabies", and this man was hardly a baby. His non-babyness threw me for a loop, and I stared dumbly at him as he crossed the room and came to stand near one of the doors.
"Ryan and I usually stay in this bedroom," he said, looking at me from over his shoulder. "If you were planning on using it, we can grab one of the other bedrooms downstairs."
"Oh, no. I'm already set up over… I, I was planning on sleeping on this couch over here, if that's alright."
Chapter 3
The little girl followed her dad into the bedroom, and I could hear her asking him a thousand questions. I couldn't hear them that well, but I still had the sense that I was intruding, so I opened the back door and stepped onto the balcony. I had never seen the ocean before, and the smell and sound of it comforted me instantly. I stood at the edge of the balcony, leaning on the rail and relishing the feel of the breeze hitting my face.
There were about ten different things going through my mind all at once. First and foremost was the fact that I'd mistaken Mrs. Hunt's "grandbaby" for one of her sons. I tried to remember what I said to him, and felt sort of embarrassed about the whole exchange. She didn't seem old enough to have grandkids his age. It should have dawned on me when she said she had great-grandchildren that she had grandchildren who were old enough to have kids of their own, but for whatever reason, that didn't register. It didn't help that he was extremely handsome. He had dark hair and eyes, and an All-American look to his face. I could easily picture him being the star quarterback of his high school football team.
Just as I was daydreaming about Mrs. Hunt's gorgeous grandson, I remembered the little girl who preceded him. I assumed her mother would be upstairs momentarily, and I reminded myself it might not be best not to daydream about someone's husband. I stared blankly at the waves as they rolled in, and smiled to myself as I imagined a catfight that would clearly never happen
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I took it out to find a text from my little brother asking for a photo with about ten exclamation points behind it. I scrolled through the photos I had already taken, and choose a few to send. He responded with a text saying how lucky I was, and I smiled as I stashed the phone back into my pocket.
I was staring at the ocean again when I heard the sliding glass door open behind me. "My dad said I can make sandcastles in a minute after I eat my snack," the little girl said.
As she was saying it, she was grunting with the effort of closing the door. I watched her for a second, before deciding to help her.
"Thanks," she said, staring up at me. "My dad's gonna take me to make a sandcastle in a minute, and when Uncle Evan and Aunt Mia get here, we're gonna build a giant one! Did you ever build a giant sandcastle?"
I looked down at her, unable to believe that so many words were coming out of such a little girl. She had curly sandy-blonde hair that had been pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her one-piece bathing suit was pink with white polka dots and perfectly showcased that precious little potbelly that all toddlers had.
"I've never made any size sandcastle," I said. "I've never even been to the beach."
She cracked up laughing at that. "The beach is right there, silly," she said, pointing through the rail at the ocean.
"Yeah, but I just got here a few minutes ago, and I haven't even walked out onto the sand yet."
Her eyes widened and her face grew serious. "Why not?"
"Well, because I just got here."
"Why didn't you go to a beach before? Why didn't you go when you was a little girl?"
"Because my family just never did. I don't live near a beach, and we never drove to one."
"They don't have a beach by your house?"
"Nope."
"They don't have a beach by my house either, but we drive to this one all the time. My Dee-dee said we can sleep here whenever we want to, and we build a sandcastle every time—even when it's too cold to swim in the water."
She came to stand next to me and held both hands up as if expecting me to pick her up. My gaze shifted around as if looking for someone who could tell me if it was okay for me to do so. Would it be weird if I picked her up without permission from her parents? Was she old enough to know not to jump out of my arms and fly over the balcony? "Do you think you should ask your mom or dad first?" I asked.
"I don't have a mom," she said shaking her head. "And my dad said I can be your friend since you came here with my Dee-dee."
"Are you gonna stay still and not wiggle if I hold you? We're really high up."
Her hands were still extended tow
ard me as she nodded. I stooped and tentatively lifted her up to sit on my hip. Obviously a pro at sitting in that position, she latched onto me.
"You have to get the sand wet or it won't build a good castle," she said, squinting at the ocean. "I have extra shovels and buckets if you want to help."
"I'd like that," I said. "I don't have a mom either," I added, even though it had nothing to do with sandcastles. It just felt good to say it to someone who might know a little bit about what I went through.
"You don't?"
"Nope."
She looked right at me and then reached up and grabbed my hair as if she was interested in playing with it. "Did she go away when you were born like me?"
"She went away when I was six years old."
"I'm three, but soon I'll be..." she held up four fingers for me to count. "My Dee-dee's sementy-pime. She has the same birthday as my dad, and we had a big party."
It was the first thing she had mispronounced since I had been talking to her. I figured she meant Diane was seventy-five, but it didn't seem right.
"Is Dee-dee Ms. Diane?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I think she's just Dee-dee," she said.
"You ready, squirt?" I heard her dad ask as the glass door slid open.
"Yeaaah!" she said, stiffening with excitement as I held her.
I turned and watched as her dad stepped onto the balcony. He had changed into swim trunks and a tanktop, which happened to expose his tanned, muscular arms. I tried not to stare, so I looked instead at the girl. I thought she would try to get down, but she remained clinched onto me.
"She's never been to the beach or made a sandcastle, and she doesn’t have a mom, too, like me."
"She probably has a name," he said. "And it's not very nice to announce something like that right after she told it to you… if she did tell you that."
Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family Book 1) Page 2
