Summer by the Sea (29 page)

Faith clasped her hands together in front of her mouth and tried to hide her smile. Casey had done it. She’d never felt more proud of her sister than she did in that moment, because Casey had let her guard down. Faith threw her arms around her and squeezed her tight.

The three of them waited, their eyes on the phone. Every time the screen went dark, Casey tapped it to keep it open. Then hope fizzled up her spine when Faith saw those three little dots on the screen. Scott had opened the message! He was checking it! The anticipation was nearly overwhelming for her; she couldn’t imagine what Casey must be feeling. Maybe it would all be okay. Casey and Scott were so good together, and now, they could get back together where they belong. Isabella could have her daddy back. Faith hoped that would be the case.

The dots went away and they waited for a message. Faith’s knee was bouncing up and down. The time it was taking was making her crazy with anticipation. They sat in silence—all of them—watching that phone, but after the seconds turned to minutes and then the minutes began ticking by, Faith could feel a worry settling in her chest. The screen turned black, and Casey didn’t reopen it this time. Scott hadn’t texted back. There was nothing.

“Maybe he’s not somewhere where he can text you,” Faith said cautiously. “Maybe his phone died.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to know that I love him because he wants a divorce.”

Faith shook her head, trying to protest that thought, but she had to wonder if it was too little, too late. Was Scott tired of trying? Before she could wonder any further, Casey had her face in her hands. She was crying.

“This is so hard,” she sobbed. “Isabella is killing me. She was up for an hour last night—she misses Scott so much. She cries at night for her daddy, and, honestly, I cry for him too. I don’t know how to fix this.” She turned to Nan. “Nan. You know everything. What do I do?”

Nan had remained very quiet the whole time. She ran her fingers through the side of her short, white hair and then put her hand on her cheek in bewilderment. Finally, after Casey’s wild sobs had quieted, Nan looked as though she had an answer. She said, “Casey, he knows you love him. But what he doesn’t know is whether
you
understand why he’s left. Give him a reason to come back.”

As if Nan’s suggestion had finally made it all clear, Casey opened up the screen and texted, “I miss you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there enough. I want to make it work. Call me,” and hit send. Then, she went into the bathroom, swiped a box of tissues, and returned, tugging a few free from the box to blew her nose.

“Now,” Nan said, her voice lighter, “Get yourselves together. Jake will be here to pick up Faith soon. And later, he’s going to come and get us after he drops off the supplies for that boat he’s building. He and his friend have already finished one, and I told him I’d like to take a ride, since I didn’t get to go sailing. He promises to go slowly.”

Faith had been thinking about seeing Jake all day. It was ridiculous to even be thinking about him. He’d made it quite clear that he wasn’t planning on taking things any further. Pleasant conversation and dinners was all she could hope for. It was fine, really. She’d always been fine on her own. Maybe she’d even be able to help Casey with learning how to live that way. Scott hadn’t called. Casey had carried her phone around all morning. She kept expecting to see the phone light up with Scott’s name. After hours passed, though, she was losing hope.

Faith had decided to wait for Jake’s arrival on the beach. She walked down to the water, leaving her sandals up on the dune. The surf was calm today. It rolled gently toward the shore and left foam on the sand as the tide slid back out to sea. She sank her toes into the soft, wet sand, watching the little bubbles of water as they dipped below the surface around her feet.

The surf could get rough, and it was tough to swim through. Every time she had to face those waves as a kid, though, she got back up, giggling, and squealing, running from them and then to them. Swimming in the ocean was difficult for even an experienced swimmer, yet, as a child, the exertion it took didn’t bother her. And, like Casey had always told her, once they got past where the waves break, it was easy. Just like when they were girls, it seemed again to Faith that they were right where the waves were breaking. They couldn’t see the other side yet, but they were fighting, pushing, getting knocked down and back up. The difference was that as adults, their will seemed to have lessened. Why was that? Why couldn’t they fight harder?

As Faith watched the rolling waves, she noticed those spots where they broke a little softer. That was why they struggling now to fight—there wasn’t a break, nothing to allow them to slip past. In their relationships, they were giving it everything they had and nothing was changing. Faith said a silent prayer that they’d all get a break. Nan needed her family to be happy, Casey needed Scott, Isabella needed her daddy. Even their mom, who loved having her family around, needed everyone around her—Nan wouldn’t be there to keep her company forever.

And what did Faith need? What did she really need? At the back of her mind, she knew what she
wanted.
She wanted a family. She wanted a loving husband who she could talk to, who kept her company, who listened to her. She wanted to hear little feet coming down the hallway and to hear the sound of their voices as they called her Mommy… She wanted to be able to come back to this beach and see it. She’d thought before how life wasn’t this perfect story, where happy endings were always possible. She had to look on the bright side: She was healthy and happy. She’d be okay.

“Hey,” she heard from behind her, and she turned around.

“Hi.”

Jake was all spruced up, his hair just perfectly tousled, his face clean-shaven. The smell of his aftershave wafted in her direction, knotting her stomach. He looked positively gorgeous.

“You looked deep in thought just then. You okay?”

“Yep,” she lied. She didn’t want to bring him down, nor did she want to remove that adorable smile on his face.

“It’s nice out today,” he said over the waves as he took a step up beside her. She smiled when she realized he didn’t have on any shoes. She turned around instinctively to look and smiled wider to find that he’d lined his shoes up right next to hers in the sand. “We didn’t visit this particular spot of the beach as a child, but I did go to a beach down the road, and I remember swimming all day. When I came in that night, after I’d had a bath and settled down under my covers, I could still feel the rocking of the waves in my bed.”

“I know that feeling.”

“It rocked me to sleep,” he said, his eyes reminiscent.

She wanted him to look at her, to tell her something else about his past—anything—because standing there with him was making her crazy. She didn’t want to think about it, but she remembered the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of the sun on their faces, and the sound of the waves as he’d kissed her at Bodie Island. She didn’t have to try hard to bring that feeling right back up to the surface. She knew why she was feeling this way about him right then. It was because he was talking about the beach he’d experienced as a child, how he would swim all day. It made her feel a closeness to him again, a bond. The fact that he had loved the water and being at this beach—just like she had—showed her he hadn’t always been set on changing the Outer Banks, that he had once enjoyed its simplicity as much as her, he’d just forgotten, and it gave her hope she could make him remember.

“What did you want to show me?” he asked.

She turned to him, facing the wind so that her hair wouldn’t blow into her face. “Hungry?”

“It’s a little early, but I could eat.”

“Perfect. Let’s get in the car. I want you to drive me down Beach Road toward the village of Duck.”

“Okay.” He looked at her suspiciously, but he had a smile playing at his lips.

As they got in his car, she waited for him to get settled and then she said, “If you’re insistent on building up the Outer Banks, then I would like you to take me to a few of my favorite places just in case they aren’t here when I get a chance to come back. It’ll be my treat.”

“Absolutely not.”

He pulled onto Beach Road, and she looked at him disbelievingly. If he didn’t like the current beach vibe, that was one thing, but he could at least humor her. Was there some reason why he wouldn’t take her? “What do you mean, ‘absolutely not’?”

“You’re not paying. I am.”

She smiled, relieved beyond belief. She was so glad that Jake agreed to take her out today. She knew that she probably couldn’t change his mind about building, but she could at least show him her side. He grew up there, so his view was clouded because he couldn’t see what was in front of him through the eyes of a new visitor. She wanted him to see the charm that she could see. This was her chance to show him.

“Fine. Pay if you want to,’” she teased. “Do you know where Sunset Grille is?”

“Of course.”

“I want to go there.”

They drove, making small talk, and all she wanted to ask him was what he’d decided about trying to buy those restaurants. Which ones were they? Were they any of her favorites? What was he planning to build there? Finally, when there was a lull, she asked, “Was your meeting this morning successful?”

“They’re gonna sleep on it. I told them I’d give them until next week. Then, I’m moving on and my offer will no longer stand. When potential sellers think they have something big to lose, sometimes, the time factor will push things in my favor.”

Just talking about it made her uncomfortable, and she was sorry she’d even asked. Jake had put those restaurant owners in a terrible position because they knew what they’d be doing by selling. They knew that they’d be a part of the problem the minute they sold, yet Jake had probably given them such an enticing offer that they could see their future right in front of them. But could they retire wealthy and live with themselves if they knew what he wanted to do with their restaurants? Would they be able to sell, knowing that all the history, all the memories and the stories that could be told about their restaurants would be lost? She looked out the window, watching the beach emerge between the cottages as they drove. When they finally pulled in to the parking lot, she was more than ready to get out and visit one of her favorite places. She’d come there for dinner as a kid with her mom and Nan.

They crossed the road and she took a minute to look at the gorgeous restaurant in front of her. The exterior was wooden, the different extensions painted in pastels—blue, yellow, and turquoise, with pink trim. Palm trees circled it all the way around to the enormous deck that stretched out over the Currituck Sound, a body of water that was separated from the Atlantic by the Outer Banks themselves. Faith loved swimming in the Sound as a kid because she could walk out for miles and still be knee deep, and the waves were tiny ripples that didn’t knock her over like the waves of the Atlantic did.

They walked inside and met the hostess. “Can we sit outside today?” Faith asked. She’d never sat outside in the bar area before. Until now, she hadn’t been old enough during her visits. The hostess nodded and grabbed two menus before leading them out to the deck.

A long tiki bar sat under a covered porch that stretched the length of the building, Hawaiian-like grass and party lights hanging from the ceiling at the edge to separate it from the wide decking on the other side. People were sitting on stools, having afternoon cocktails—big, colorful drinks with crazy glasses, and all kinds of festive fruit and trinkets dangling from them. The warm breeze rustled the grass over the bar, and the gentle lapping of the Sound could be heard just beyond the quiet conversations of the people seated at tables on the deck. They arrived at a table for two, and the hostess put their menus down.

“Someone will be right with you,” she said before walking away.

Faith looked out over the water as Caribbean-style music played, her eyes coming to rest on the long pier that stretched into the Sound. Along the pier were benches painted bright green and a gazebo at the end, painted in matching pastels.

“I’m not driving,” she said, “so I’m getting one of those crazy drinks.”

“If that’s what you want.” He was looking around too; she’d caught him. He focused on her face and made eye contact as if to ask what she was thinking.

In her mind, she told him to figure it out for himself, and she wondered if he could read her like he had. There had been times when he could, but ever since she’d found out about his plans for the Outer Banks, he hadn’t tried. The sun was high, casting its rays on the ripples in the water, and, with the soft breeze coming off the Sound, their little lunch date was almost romantic.

A waitress came and took their drink orders. Jake got a beer, but Faith had something different in mind. “I’ll have the Castaway Coconut, please.”

The waitress scribbled down the order and went to make their drinks. As she did, Jake located the drink on his menu and read aloud, “Vanilla Rum, Pineapple, OJ, and Coconut…” he read, and then squinted toward the page for a second before looking up at her. “It’s served in a real carved coconut?”