by Jenny Hale
“Don’t mention me,” Melly said. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble for letting the news slip before it should’ve come out.”
Sasha tapped on her phone. Then she set it down on the arm of her chair. “I told him you aren’t interested in his offer to buy the property and you’d like to focus on getting the shop ready.” Then the little bubbles appeared on her screen and she picked it up again. “He’s typing back,” she narrated. “He says he has something of yours. He’d like to return it.”
“What could he possibly have of mine? Tell him whatever it is, he can keep it.”
“What if it’s Einstein?” Sasha said, as she tapped some more on her phone. “I’m asking him.” She waited for his response and then read it. “He said it isn’t Einstein, and he’ll meet you on the pier at seven when he gets off work.”
“Tell him I’m busy. He can leave it on the front porch.”
Sasha typed the message and then turned her phone off. “Enough of that,” she said. “We need to get back to Melly.” Sasha leaned toward their friend with a smile. “I say we do something with just us girls and Henry tonight to take your mind off everything for a while, something low key that I can be a part of.”
Melly sniffled, a smile emerging. “You could come over to my place,” she said. “We could have a movie night.”
“That sounds amazing,” Alice said with a smile.
She’d be glad to focus on having a little fun.
* * *
Empty bowls holding remnants of popcorn were scattered on the coffee table amidst a half-full box of Junior Mints, a bottle of wine, and Henry’s cup of milk. Alice, Sasha, and Melly were sprawled across the sofa. They’d watched a movie for Henry, but he’d fallen asleep halfway through, so they’d put him on Melly’s bed and then they’d watched Roman Holiday, an old Audrey Hepburn movie, under a light blanket. The heat creeping in from outside and the wine had warmed them pretty well, but it was still fun to get cuddled up like Alice and Sasha had done as girls. Melly was the perfect addition to their friendship and it had been a great night.
Alice kept drawing parallels to the movie, wishing her life could be all happy endings and last-scene kisses. Jack had come out of nowhere and completely knocked her sideways—she couldn’t get him off her mind.
“I’m so glad we met you. What brought you to the Outer Banks, specifically?” Sasha asked Melly. Alice turned her attention to them.
Melly sat up and started tidying the table, stacking the bowls. “The nursing job.”
Sasha was leaning back against the pillows, her eyes heavy. “How did you hear about the opening at the hospital?”
“I just looked it up online,” she said quickly, but that same expression she had when she’d discussed her ex-husband came rushing back onto her face.
Alice wondered if there was more to their story than Melly was telling them. Had he hurt her beyond what she’d divulged? As good a friend and neighbor as Melly had become, Alice would let Melly tell the rest of her story in her own time; if there was any more to tell. Sasha seemed to have caught on to her unease as well, and she didn’t ask her anything else.
When the dishes were cleared and the room put back together, all the pillows in place, the blankets refolded, Alice scooped Henry off the bed and she and Sasha walked back across the road. The floors were most likely dry enough now to walk barefoot across them carefully, just long enough to get upstairs, where they could sleep and allow another eight hours of drying time. Alice couldn’t help but look down both sides of the street for Einstein, hoping that she’d see him. She wanted to call his name, but she knew it would only wake up Henry, and then he’d be worried the rest of the night.
As they got closer to the shop, Alice noticed a figure sitting on her porch. She squinted to see if she could make out who it was, but she didn’t recognize him until they’d made it into the lot. It was Butch.
He stood up as they approached.
“Hello, Alice,” he said quietly, and then nodded to Sasha. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”
She whispered, “Let me get Henry into bed. Would you like to come in?”
“Oh, thank you but no, dear. The fresh air will do me good. I’ll wait out here.” Then he took a seat on the step again.
“Who is that?” Sasha said on their way up the narrow staircase, once they’d gotten inside.
When they reached the top, Alice carefully laid Henry on his bed and covered him with his blankets. “It’s Butch,” she whispered. “Jack’s father.”
“Oh. Wonder what he wants.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out and come back up to tell you.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me. I think I’m going to lie down but wake me up if you need help with anything.” She yawned.
Alice went back downstairs, past the bouquet of wildflowers Melly had brought, and opened the door, joining Butch on the step.
He faced her. “Jack said that you don’t want to see him, but he needed to give you this.” He held out his fist and dropped the locket that she’d found in Gramps’s trunk into her hand. “He says it’s your grandmother’s locket.”
Alice looked up, surprised. “How did he get this? And how did he know it was my grandma’s?” She didn’t even know that; she’d only guessed.
“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him.” His eyes stayed on her, thoughts behind them. Then, as if he’d decided something, he said, “He’s a wreck, Alice.”
“What?” She rubbed the locket with her thumb.
“He didn’t ask me to tell you this, but I can’t help but intervene. I don’t get to meet the women that he dates. And he doesn’t stop his hectic life to date very often. He’s usually too busy saving the world. But he is so worried about you that he can’t even sit still. I have no idea what happened between you two, but you need to talk to him. I’ve never seen him like this, Alice.”
That fear crept in: the panic that, by meeting him, she might get hurt again. Why hadn’t he come himself tonight? Why had he sent Butch instead? If he really wanted things to work out, wouldn’t he have been there? But she remembered she’d told Sasha to say she didn’t want to talk. And there was his offer to buy the shop that she was struggling to reconcile in her mind. “I don’t know…” she answered. It was too complicated already, too hard.
“You lost your dog, right?” Butch said, staring out toward the road, his lips pressed together and visible through his beard. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Jack has been out looking for it every couple of hours since you told him it was missing. He even checked the bypass.” Finally meeting her eye, he said, “Meet him, Alice. You need to talk to him. Let him get whatever it is off his chest before the poor guy bursts.”
Her resolve crumbling, she finally agreed. Butch stood up and gave her a hug. “I hope you two work it out,” he said, sincerity in his face.
But she knew they wouldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it. It was too much, too soon after Matt, and she just didn’t want to go down that road for a second time. This had been a close call, but she’d stopped things before they’d gotten messy. She’d fallen hard and fast, and she wouldn’t let that happen again. The truth was that while she did want a big family and a loving husband, this wasn’t one of those movies, and things didn’t always work out like that. She’d rather have a small family with wonderful memories than a big one that was a disaster.
Chapter Sixteen
“Guess what I found,” Alice’s dad had said to her on the phone this morning. “An old ball cap of Henry’s. It was behind the bookcase.”
“How in the world did you find it there?” Alice asked, so glad to hear her father’s voice. She hadn’t wanted to think about how much she missed him, or she wouldn’t have the energy to finish Seaside Sprinkles. She’d have wanted to run back to her childhood home instead, settle in with a box of donuts, and have coffee at the table all morning, talking to him.
“I cleaned out all the old books that I’d read and donat
ed them to charity to make room for new ones.” He cleared his throat and then added, “I’ve resorted to parting with books because I’m running out of things to keep me busy. The house is too quiet without you and Henry, and if I stand still, the silence bothers me.”
Alice felt the lump forming in her throat, and she didn’t speak for fear that she’d blubber into the phone. She remembered that same quiet after her mother had died; it was a unique kind of silence, an emptiness, the absence of something settling in the air. She didn’t want to even consider that she and Henry had left her father with that silence again.
“I was thinking I could stop by…” he said happily, the way he did when he had a surprise for her. He used to leave little treats on her bed, and he’d always say, “I’ve got a little something for you…” His tone was the same now as it had been then.
“What?” she managed, the thrill of seeing him causing her to smile through the tears that had found their way to her eyes. She blinked them away. This new development changed her mood in a flash.
“I’ve been visiting a friend in the Tidewater area. Remember Ricky Gleason? He and his wife invited me to stay for a few days after I told them about your move. They thought I might like to have the company. I figured it’s only two extra hours to the Outer Banks. I could come by and surprise Henry.”
“He would love that!” She was almost giggling. “I would too. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I can’t wait to see you.”
It was as if a weight she didn’t even know she’d had was lifted off her chest, her shoulders feeling lighter, her worries drifting away. Just knowing she’d get to see her dad made it feel like nothing else mattered.
“Would it be okay if I took him back home for a few days? It would be nice to have him around the house.”
Alice was delighted. While she hated to be away from Henry, she liked the idea of him being able to see his friends again and spending some time with his Grandpa Frank, and it would give her a few extra hours to really put some work into Seaside Sprinkles.
“Of course!” she’d said.
Later that morning, her father had picked up Henry. He’d only stayed a short time, Henry hurrying him along, nearly bursting at the idea of going back home. Henry had been chatting a mile a minute about the places he wanted his grandpa to take him and the friends he wanted to see. Her father had promised that he’d spend more time catching up on their return, but right then he wanted to get Henry back as soon as possible so he didn’t waste a minute with his grandson.
So Alice found herself in an empty shop for the first time since they’d gotten there. While Sasha napped upstairs, recovering from the infection that was still making her tired at times, Alice had called the county office and spoken to the supervisor in charge of historical properties about the pier. Mr. Blankenship had told her that it required quite a bit of renovation—most of it needed to be replaced—but the problem was that the small retailers on the pier weren’t bringing in the revenue needed, and two of them had even decided to pull out completely once their contracts were up. Mr. Blankenship had said that even if the funds were raised to rebuild it, the pier needed something big to move in, something like a restaurant or major retail chain, and, in that area, he just didn’t expect it to happen.
With her hands on her forehead, Alice stared at the table, her mind reeling. Jack had put her in the very worst position. She was chasing a dream that might not come to fruition, even with all her efforts, and she might fail. But even if she could deal with failure, she might not be able to manage emotionally, given the fact that she could’ve avoided it all by taking the money, which might have been the most sensible option for herself and her son. She looked up at the wall of ideas and wondered if this place would be better as a home for Butch than a business, her head starting to throb.
The clock clicked over to four forty-five. She needed to leave to meet Jack. He’d texted and she’d agreed to see him, to keep her promise to Butch. She got up straight from her work, grabbed the house keys and dropped them into her handbag. This meeting was going to be a very quick one. She planned to tell him that she was thankful for all he’d done for her, but she really needed to be on her own right now. She wasn’t even going to go into her reasoning or the fact that she was still upset that he’d made her that offer on the shop. This was closure—nothing more.
Alice kept repeating that in her head as she walked down the beach toward him. He’d told her he’d find her halfway. When he neared her, she could see he was carrying a rolled-up beach mat. Unease settled in her shoulders when she saw it. She didn’t have the strength to spend any more than a few minutes with him. She didn’t want to give him time to put on that charm of his and make her reconsider her decision to end this.
“Hi,” Jack said, with the mat still under his arm. He was cautious in his approach.
He looked tired and that smile she loved to see wasn’t there. He was searching her face as if he were trying to find answers to his questions. He turned toward the ocean, breathing it in, not saying anything as a seagull flew over them. Then he unrolled the mat on the sand, motioning for her to sit down. After seeing his face, she didn’t have the heart to deny his offer, so she lowered herself onto the mat.
That endless ocean stretched out in front of her, still giving her no answers.
“I didn’t mean to offend you with my offer,” Jack said, as he sat down beside her, getting right to it. “I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” He went to take her hand, but she moved and he drew back. If he touched her she might lose her resolve. Even if they could get past this, it just wasn’t the right time with him leaving and her wrapped up in opening the shop, and, at the end of the day, she didn’t know if he could be what she wanted him to be.
Alice didn’t say anything, all the emotions running together in her head.
“Did you get the locket?”
“Yes. Butch brought it by.” Glad for the diversion from the topic at hand, she added, “He said you told him it was my grandma’s. How did you know that it was hers?”
Jack leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, a small line still present between his eyes, that seriousness on his face. “Your grandfather showed it to me once.”
“What?” she asked, disbelieving, twisting toward him. Why had Gramps shown Jack something that she’d never seen?
“He had it on his counter in that little dish with the roses on it.”
“My grandma’s dish—yeah, I know it. It was in there?”
“Yep. He showed me the photos of his grandkids.” Jack smiled. “You and Grace.”
“Who?” What in the world was he talking about? She didn’t know anyone in her family named Grace. Who was that? “You mean Susie?”
Jack squinted, trying to remember. “No,” he said, shaking his head as if he were reassuring himself, “It was Grace. He said, ‘This is Alice and that’s Grace. They’re my grandkids.’”
None of this made any sense, and she thought he must have it all wrong. “My cousin Susie and I are his only grandchildren.”
Jack frowned, obviously confused. “That’s weird. He talked to me about someone named Grace. About her as a baby. How pretty she was.”
She’d known Susie her entire life and she’d never been called Grace. Susie’s name was Susan Elizabeth McMichael. And why had it just been the two of them in that locket? Why wasn’t it Susie and this Grace person? Alice considered calling her dad right then, although he was probably busy with Henry, and she didn’t want to disturb him. And she’d rather ask him in person. But she needed answers. She’d never heard anything about anyone called Grace in all her life. It definitely wasn’t anyone in her immediate family or she would’ve known about her. Right? And certainly, she’d know if she had another cousin. There had to be some mistake…
“Did he tell you anything else about her?”
“Not much. That was really it. It had been mo
re of a comment than a conversation, but I could see the love in his eyes when he showed me the photos.”
Gramps had kept this locket the whole time and there might have been an entire story—someone else’s life story—behind it, and she’d never had even an inkling about it. Her mind went to that old trunk full of things back at the bike shop and suddenly, she wanted to sprint down the beach and sift through every last thing to find answers.
“Would you come back to the shop with me?” she asked, getting to her feet. It was apparent that Gramps had said things to Jack that he hadn’t told her; she needed him there in case she found something in the trunk that she didn’t understand.
“Of course,” he said, standing up and folding the mat.
* * *
“Would you help me carry this downstairs?” she whispered to Jack, so as not to wake Sasha. The trunk was more awkward than heavy, and the two of them could easily get it down. She’d have him carefully help her set it on one of the sheets that she’d laid down to protect the new paint on the floor.
Jack got on one end and lifted, backing down the steps as she took hold of the other side. As quietly as possible, they shimmied it down the narrow staircase until they came to rest at the bottom, lowering it down on the sheet and scooting it gently into the middle of the room.
“What are we doing with this?” he asked, coming over to her side and standing so close to her that she could feel his warmth.
Her tummy did a flip-flop when she caught his scent, her memory going back to those arms around her, his lips on hers, and there was a part of her that wanted him to hold her again and tell her it would all be okay.
“It’s full of Gramps’s things. There might be something about Grace in here.” The name “Grace” felt odd on her tongue; it was a stranger’s name. She couldn’t get the niggling feeling out of her mind that she was a little angry that Gramps had told Jack about Grace and not her. Why had he felt more comfortable talking about a possible family member with Jack? Or had he deliberately kept it from her? If so, why?
