by Rachel Hanna
“Well, I really should get to the store. My sister is staying with me, and we’re going to be awfully hungry.”
“You’re mighty lucky to have a sister. I’m an only child, and it sure makes for a lonely life sometimes.”
“No grandkids?”
“No. My youngest son died when he was twenty-three.”
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry.”
“I’d like to say it gets easier as the years pass, but I’d be lying’. I miss him every single day, and I still cry from time to time.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
“Hunting accident with his Daddy. Poor Johnny, he was never the same again.”
“And your older son?”
“Haven’t heard from him in over ten years. I’ve tried, but he won’t respond. I think he lives in Tennessee. He just wasn’t the same after losing his brother and Dad. Blamed me for his Daddy dying.”
“Oh wow. I am so sorry, Dixie.”
“Johnny had cancer. My son, William, well, he just thought I should have made him get treatment. Johnny didn’t want treatment. He didn’t want to be sick for the time he had left. William thought I should force the issue, and I wouldn’t. A person should have a right to make their own choice, ya know?”
“I agree. So he just stopped speaking?”
“Yep. He told me off after the funeral and took off. No cards or letters or anything.”
“That must be hard. I can’t imagine never speaking to my daughters again.”
“So you can see why the loneliness is always there, even when people are around.”
Suddenly, Julie felt so bad for Dixie. Here was this amazing, flamboyant, outgoing woman, running an adorable book store and she was lonely, even though everyone probably loved her to pieces.
Life was cruel sometimes.
Dixie stood up, brushed off her pants - even though nothing was on them - and walked to the counter. She pulled a map from a plastic box and grabbed a pen.
“We get lots of tourists in these parts, so I keep maps on hand.” She opened the map on the table and drew a series of lines and then circled the nearest grocery store. “You’re not too far off. Just take this road here, and when you see the gas station, take a right…”
“Thank you so much, Dixie. For the map and for the company. And if you’re ever on the island, you know where I am. Please come by. I’d love to return the favor.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I do like to sit by the marsh from time to time. It soothes my old, weary soul.”
“Well, you’re always welcome,” Julie said as she grasped both of Dixie’s hands and smiled.
“Thanks for sitting with me.”
Julie walked toward the door. “Oh, can I ask you one more thing?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know of any counseling services around town? For someone who went through trauma?”
“You okay, hon? What else did that scoundrel do?”
“No, it’s not for me. My sister needs some… help.”
Dixie nodded knowingly. “I see. There’s a wonderful free counseling center down on Eller Street. Here’s a card,” she said, pulling a card off of a huge bulletin board behind her cash register.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem. And welcome to town.”
“I think I’m going to love it here,” Julie said. And she really believed it.
Chapter 9
“Electricity? Is this real? Am I dead? Should I go toward the light?” Julie said, spinning around in the living room as she looked at the light shining above her.
“Real as it gets,” Dawson said, a lazy smile on his face.
“You’re a miracle worker.”
“Actually, the power company guy was the miracle worker. I just let him in.”
“It’s really starting to come together, isn’t it? I mean, this might actually turn into a real house?” She could hardly believe she finally felt hopeful again. She had a great contractor who was also a friend, she had groceries, the beach was close, she was working on getting along with her sister and now she had lights. And air conditioning!
She’d never been so happy to have the basics in life. Before, it was all about the high end oven she’d bought for her gourmet kitchen. Now, it was about the wind up lantern she’d found half off at the hardware store. Sometimes, life sure could take a crazy turn.
Still, there were moments she found herself overwhelmed. Sometimes, she shed a few tears thinking about her marriage falling apart, wishing against reality that Michael was there to hold her close and make her feel safe. More than anything, she missed that feeling, the one where she knew someone had her back.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave a little early today. I have a couple of projects around the inn that require a bit of daylight. Do you mind?”
“Are you kidding me? Dawson, you’ve been here morning until night since you began. Take whatever time you need.”
“Thanks. I’m going to get started on painting the living room first thing tomorrow.”
“Great. I can’t wait to start decorating at least one room in this place.”
“Enjoy your electricity tonight,” he said, smiling as he picked up his well worn toolbox and headed to the door.
“Oh, trust me, I will. As soon as Janine gets back from her counseling group, we’re going to have a ‘thank God for Ben Franklin’ party!”
Dawson chuckled as he shut the door behind him.
Julie walked out onto the deck. She stood there, staring into the marsh, the large blades of grass blowing in the breeze. It was still light for another couple of hours, so she took a moment to take in the sights and smells of her new home.
Michael would’ve hated this. He wasn’t a huge fan of the beach, but the marsh may have done him in. The thought of it made her smile.
He hated dirt. He was never one of those guys who liked to get in the mud or have dirt under his nails. Basically, he was totally the opposite of Dawson.
Sometimes, she marveled as she watched Dawson work. He was a man, through and through, but there was a sensitivity about him that one wouldn’t expect when they met him. He was deep, but in a way that wasn’t weird or woo-woo. It was just who he was.
He could hold a conversation and a hammer, something she might not have thought was all that special a few weeks ago.
Michael had hired people to hang the pictures in their home. He’d paid a lawn maintenance company, a pool company and even had a special company that came out once a year to clean all of the vents in their home. In fact, she couldn’t remember one thing he’d ever done that would be classified as work around their house. The most he’d done was break down Amazon boxes and put them by the road for the garbage man.
How hadn’t she noticed that about him for all those years? She’d changed all the diapers, helped with the girls’ school projects, run them to and from almost every event. Michael had been like a fixture that was there, but maybe he never was. Perhaps she’d been more invested in their marriage than he had all those years.
Something about this island was pulling memories out of her brain that she’d long since forgotten, like the time he’d come home from a business trip smelling like perfume. When she’d questioned him, he’d brushed it off by saying the woman in one of his meetings had doused herself and almost choked everyone else in the conference room. Now she wondered if that was even true. Did Victoria smell like perfume when she met her? She searched her mind, but couldn’t remember.
“The lights are on?” she heard Janine say from behind her, a giddy sound in her voice.
“Yep!” Julie said, slightly jumping up and down as she clapped her hands. “Can you believe it?”
Janine laughed. “I don’t think you’d make a very good camper.”
Julie leaned against the railing. “Oh, and you would?”
“Um, yeah. Remember, I’ve traveled all over the world, and to some very remote places. I’ve stayed in tents and teepees a
nd a few times just right out under the moon, lying on the grass.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Of course you have.”
“Why did you say it like that?”
“Because you’ve had the most adventurous life. I’m sure mine pales by comparison.”
“I’ve never said that, Julie. The only person saying that is you.”
“Fine. Let’s not do this right now. I don’t want to ruin my good mood. The lights are on, the air is blowing, and I just want to bask in the miracle that it is. So, how did your group counseling go?”
Janine’s face fell a bit. “Okay, I guess. I’m still not sure it’s for me.”
“You’re not quitting are you?” Julie asked, a little more accusatory than she meant to sound.
Janine paused. “No. Not yet, anyway. I’ll give it more time.”
“Good.” Julie looked around her sister into the open sliding glass door. “I think I want Dawson to replace this with French doors. What do you think?”
Janine turned to look. “Is that in the budget?”
The two women walked back into the house. Julie looked around and took in all that still needed to be done.
“Nothing else is really in the budget. I’ve been thinking about getting a job.”
“A job? You?”
“Really? You’re going to question me about jobs? You, who has been flitting all around the world for years?”
“Um, I was working most of the time, Julie.”
“Teaching yoga.” Julie didn’t know why she was so insistent on poking at her sister about being a yoga teacher. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with that in general. It was just the idea of Janine wearing her tie dye yoga pants, saying her mantra, rolling her eyes back in her head as if she was summoning spirits from the great beyond.
All Julie could see was her sister, the one who wouldn’t stop picking her nose when they were kids. The one who kept her room like a pig sty and was terrified of grasshoppers, of all things.
It was hard to see her as some kind of professional, someone who actually knew things. Or maybe it was because she felt less than, like she hadn’t really lived. How she’d played it safe, and now she was left alone because of it.
“Teaching yoga is a job, whether you want to believe it or not, Julie.”
“Okay. You’re right.” She threw her hands up, and walked toward the kitchen for a bottle of water. Her refrigerator, newly delivered that morning, was nice and cold already. Seriously, electricity is amazing.
“I don’t think you believe me.”
“What does it matter, Janine?” she said, taking a long sip.
“It matters to me that my sister knows what I do for a living.”
“Did.” Julie knew she shouldn’t have said it. Rubbing her sister’s forced break from her career in her face wasn’t nice. It was downright mean, actually.
“Thanks a lot,” Janine said, turning to walk to the bedroom.
“Janine, wait,” Julie called, chasing her through the living room. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”
Janine stopped in her tracks and then turned around. “I can’t help what happened to me. You said it wasn’t my fault. Did you even mean that?”
Julie felt horrible. “Of course I meant it. Truly. I’m just stressed and tired right now. How can I make it right?”
Janine thought for a moment and then smiled mischievously, much like she had when they were kids. “You can do a yoga class with me.”
“What?”
“A yoga class.”
“Where?”
“Right here, right now.” She immediately started moving things out of the way, pushing stray supplies and trash to the edges of the wall.
“No… I’m really tired…”
Janine squeezed her arm. “Then yoga is perfect for you right now. It will rejuvenate you and help you sleep later.” She turned and ran down the hall, reappearing with a yoga mat and a towel. “I’ll use the towel.”
“Janine…”
“Stop overthinking. Let me show you what I can do, and what yoga can do.”
Julie paused. “Fine. But just for a few minutes. It’s dinner time.”
Janine grinned bigger than she’d seen her during the whole visit. “Yay! Okay, we’ll start with mountain pose. Basically, you want to feel your feet grounded into the floor as we reconnect with Mother Earth…”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Mother Earth?”
“Fine. I’ll keep the woo woo out of it for your benefit.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, so stand with your feet like this and press down through your toes…”
They went through pose after pose until Julie was almost a puddle in the floor. She couldn’t believe her sister moved so easily through them all, like a lithe cat-like creature. Her bones and muscles bent and twisted in ways Julie couldn’t have imagined before. When they were finished, Janine sat cross legged on the floor while Julie fell backward, her arms stretched to her sides and her chest heaving up and down.
“Good Lord, that is tougher than it looks! Was that intermediate or advanced stuff?”
Janine giggled. “That’s what I teach in my beginner’s class.”
Julie cackled with laughter. “You’re lying!”
“No, I’m not! I’ve had old ladies do that class in Bali!”
“Bali? What was that like?” Julie asked, sitting up and fanning her face.
“Heaven on Earth. Seriously, my favorite place I’ve lived.”
“What about the summer you spent in Italy?”
“I’ve never eaten so much in my life. I taught yoga in this little village. It was so cute, and the people were so nice.”
“I wish I had stories to tell,” Julie said, sadly.
“You do have stories, Julie. About family. And that matters.”
“I suppose so.”
“I’m serious. I’ve enjoyed my life, most of the time. But I do regret not settling down and having a family. I guess time just got away from me.”
“Really? You regret it? I always figured you just didn’t want kids.”
Janine stood up and walked to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed two pre-made salads Julie had bought at the store, bringing them back to her sister.
“I always wanted kids, but I never met the right guy.”
Julie took one of the salads and popped open the plastic lid. She emptied the contents of the Italian dressing packet and removed the plastic fork from it’s wrapper.
“You still have plenty of time to find the right man.”
“Maybe, but my time to have a child is in the past.”
Julie finished chewing. “You never know what life has in store. I mean, did you ever think we’d be living together in our forties, sitting on the floor of my money pit eating salad out of plastic boxes?”
Janine giggled. “We’re truly living the dream, aren’t we?”
"Yes, we are. No doubt about it. And if you really want to live the dream, then you can spend the rest of the evening helping me paint this room."
Janine stopped eating, her mouth dropping open. "You know how much I hate to paint."
"Well, it's not exactly the thing I love most in this world either. Dawson is supposed to do it tomorrow, but maybe I can save myself a little money if he doesn't have to do it."
Janine glared at her, squinting her eyes. "Fine. But only because you're letting me stay here rent free right now. Otherwise, I would pack my things and head off down the road at the mere mention of painting.”
They finished up eating their salads and then started prepping the living room to be painted. Janine taped off the molding while Julie opened the paint can and stirred it. In reality, she hadn't done much painting in her life, but it seemed to be pretty cut and dry. Surely the two of them could figure it out.
They laid down drop cloths that Dawson had folded in the corner. Julie also found some contraption that Dawson must've left. It looked like a paint roller on a long sti
ck but it had a tube inside. She figured that must've been where the paint needed to be poured in, so she decided to do it by herself.
"You better be careful with…" Janine started to say as Julie tried to pour paint from the big can into the tiny tube. Within seconds, paint was running down the side of the stick onto the hardwood floors.
"Oh no!” she said, dropping everything onto a nearby drop cloth as she got on her hands and knees and tried to use the towel from their yoga practice to clean up the paint. All she was doing was smearing it everywhere.
"What are you doing? I think you're making it worse!" Janine said.
"No, really? Why don't you tell me something I didn't know?" Julie said, sarcastically.
Janine put her hands on her hips, something she had done since they were little kids. "Do you want my help or not?"
"No, I much prefer you stand there, staring at me with your hands on your hips. Can you at least give me some wet paper towels?"
This is how it always went. The two of them could never do any task without getting into an argument within a few moments. It was one of the reasons why Julie had never tried to mend the relationship until now. It was too much work, too many arguments about stupid little things. They never really argued about what was truly under the surface.
"Here." Janine said, handing her a couple of paper towels that were saturated with water.
"Do you think I'm going to be able to clean up all of this paint with this tiny wad of paper towels? Never mind, I'll get it myself."
Julie stood up and jogged to the kitchen, grabbing a large roll of paper towels and a cup of water.
"You could've told me exactly what you wanted. I would've brought it to you," Janine said, irritated.
"I thought you could figure it out. You're a grown woman."
"Well, you're a grown woman too, and I can see that you're no better at communicating than you were when we were kids. Maybe that's what happened between you…" she stopped short, putting her hand over her mouth. It was obvious she knew she had gone too far.
Julie stood up to face her sister, her jaw twitching as her teeth ground together.
"Oh, I see. Do you think my marriage fell apart because I can't communicate? Not because my husband decided to snuggle up with a skank in Boston?”
