“The surf’s too rough. You two stay on the sand,” she told them, and both said they would. Josie tried to lay down her beach towel, but the wind whipped it up in billows. She had to set her beach bag on one end and her beach shoes in the middle. She sat on the opposite side.
The breeze lashing her skin felt excellent. Josie leaned her head back, willing the wind to carry her problems away. The smell of the sea tinted the blustery air, and her hair whipped shoreward, where gulls and other sea birds cried. Shutting her eyes, she tried to delete the scene with Andrew. Just breathe in, she told herself, and now out. Listen to the wind and its creatures.
Lulled after long minutes, she opened her eyes. A seagull swooped to the water. It soared up with a small fish in its beak. Pelicans flew in formation. Josie noted adult voices. Children were laughing. Annie and Colin chased a fiddler crab along the sand toward a small dune.
With all of this life surrounding her, Josie pondered what had happened. Awhile back, Andrew told her she carried responsibilities too heavily. “I know you’ve got Colin, and Sylvie’s not much of a mother, but you can’t exist solely for them. You need to live your own life, Josie.”
With a sad laugh, she wondered if he had already spent the campaign money before he said that.
He had given her happy moments, many of them. Josie’s lips almost loosened to a smile when she thought of them. She’d cherished Andrew’s company. He’d been a considerate friend and lover. He had been through much, and she thought she had helped him get back on track.
But now Colin needed major help. And Andrew had stolen an opportunity to help him.
Maybe Andrew needs a scoop of life’s seriousness, Josie considered, her mouth screwing into a frown. She looked around for the children.
Colin was chasing Annie, both of them kicking up sand.
“He’s gonna get you,” Colin said, holding out a small crab.
Annie giggled and ran.
Colin narrowed in on her. “He’s gonna pinch your toes off.”
“No!” she shrieked.
“Colin, stop it,” Josie called. “And don’t run so fast.”
He took a few more steps after Annie, saw Josie still watching, and relinquished the crab to the edge of the water.
“Let’s make a castle now,” Annie said. “I get to do the moat this time.”
They both wanted Josie to help. Colin awarded her deep dimples and pointed to the plastic items near her. “And would you bring us those shovels and buckets?”
“Certainly.” Building sand castles might be exactly what she needed. She scooped up the mesh bag holding the toys and ran barefooted. Reaching the kids, she squatted in sand.
Half an hour of digging with blue shovels and orange rakes allowed the threesome to create a fine castle. Surrounding the fortress they let Annie scoop out most of the moat. Sand from it created a wall to guard their stronghold.
Admiring their achievement, they then used sticks to carve their names in tall skinny letters in the sand. Josie fashioned flowers resembling daisies around her name. Annie imitated her. Colin drew giant footballs around his entire name.
“Okay, gang, we did great. But it’s time to go,” Jose said, noting the bruise of evening dropping behind the gulf.
“Just a few more minutes. Please, Josie,” Colin begged, Annie folding her hands together like in prayer and nodding behind him.
“Okay, but just a little longer,” she relented, not wanting to leave the wind and waves and sand herself. Going home would mean facing reality. “Look, the sun’s almost gone.”
The children let out squeals. They dashed away, and Josie patted down her towel and sat. The wind had dumped grit on her place, but she leaned back, more peaceful from having played. The evening’s breeze seemed determined not to allow dark thoughts to linger.
She watched the sky changing colors. Its broad band of deep gold swelled into a blend of mauve and lavender coated with puffs of gray-tinted drifting clouds. Lines of seagulls swooped low and screamed.
Few voices of people remained.
Footprints from shoes ran across the sand dune the man stood on.
He had his shoes pointed toward Josie.
She was stretched back on her towel.
Chapter 20
With eyes shut, Josie could better notice the breeze. The sand felt firm beneath her head and body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. If only she could stay there lying on her back, maybe none of her problems would be real.
The beach felt almost silent with only slight waves, the ever-moving waves, carrying sound to her. The birds had stopped screeching.
Her hearing tuned in. What had happened? Where were the children?
A horrible scene of an empty beach flashed through her mind.
She sat up, her eyes popping open.
Darkness looked like an all-encompassing wall. The sea had disappeared.
“Colin! Annie!” she called.
Only the lapping sea answered.
Josie scrambled to her feet and started to run but didn’t know which way to go.
Along a ledge of sea grass to the south, a head rose. Someone waved. “We’re up here,” Colin said.
Relief washed through Josie. She saw both children running. They chased a Labrador retriever that started barking while it played.
“We have to go now,” Josie told the little ones.
They left the dog pumping its head while it lumbered ahead of its owners. “Get this, Sheeba,” a twentyish man called. He tossed a stick to the water and the lab pounced into the surf.
Josie gathered her things and her charges came running, showing seashells they’d collected.
“Thanks for taking us,” Colin said while they strolled toward Josie’s car. He appeared more content than Josie had seen in a long time.
She gave his windblown hair a tousle. “No problem.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Annie said.
“We’ll do this again,” Josie told them. “I’ll take both of you soon.”
“Yeah!” the kids cried. They raced across the sand dune, void of anything now but sparse grass and the shoe prints that Josie noticed as she walked back to her car.
The children jabbered all the way home. Comparing shells and chunks of driftwood, they’d wiped off feet and flip-flops before getting in her car, but Josie saw some of the beach had been carried in with them.
Normally, the trait she despised but had picked up from her mother would have made her anxious, giving her the urge to clean up immediately. But this evening, with the lingering feel of salt spray on her face and arms and its scent still in her nostrils, she shrugged off the need. She could do it tomorrow, or maybe some time after that.
She patted Annie’s skinny knee beside her and listened to the conch shell Annie held to her ear. Then she brushed the sand her hand picked up from it onto the floor. Josie glanced beneath the girl’s dangling feet and saw only the black floor mat dusted with sand.
She glanced toward the backseat. “Colin, have you seen a scarf back there?”
“Nope. Boy, this is a pretty shell.” He leaned over the seat and showed it to Annie.
Had Sylvie’s scarf disappeared? Josie wondered, apprehension returning. Someone had mailed her what seemed to be a piece of it. Another section had been put in their mailbox. And the notes in the mailbox and on the back door. Was that all someone’s idea of playfulness?
“A guy said to tell you he’d be coming,”
Colin had told Josie the evening her first radio spots aired.
She had dismissed all of it.
Now she reconsidered. Had Maurice done all of those things?
Parking in the garage and letting the children get out, Josie made a new search in her car. This time she used a flashlight. She scooped her arm as far under the front seats as she could.
The scarf wasn’t there. Maurice had been near her garage. He could have taken it from her car. Would he have done that only to cut it into tiny squares?
What other plans did he have?
Uneasy, Josie walked in the house and spotted a message blinking on the answering machine. She pressed the button to hear the words.
“Call me, Josie,” Andrew said.
She sucked in a breath, hearing his voice. She could not make herself return his call. She wasn’t ready to deal with Andrew’s gambling problem today. She wondered if she ever would be.
Colin kept smiling as he went off for his shower. He looked weary afterward and went straight to bed.
Showering off every grain of sand, Josie then drifted to sleep imagining a bank vault emptied of money, but filled with scraps of blue silk.
Within minutes after she arrived at work in the morning, an entourage entered. A bridal party needed fittings. Eve helped with four bridesmaids, a bride, and an adorable flower girl. Randall Allen and Otis Babineaux took tux measurements on the men. The day proved so busy that Josie worked throughout the noon hour without noticing she hadn’t eaten until Mr. Allen asked, “Aren’t you taking time for lunch today?”
She saw the time. “I don’t need anything.”
“We’re ordering from the deli. We could get you something.”
She didn’t feel hungry but hadn’t had breakfast and would need to eat before evening. Her boss returned a little later and she stopped working only long enough to gobble down a turkey sandwich and canned iced tea.
Eve eventually came into Josie’s sewing area. “Still working hard? It’s time to go.”
Josie’s back protested from remaining in one position at the sewing machine. She hung up the bridesmaid dress she was working on and gratefully left for home.
Of all days, when she yearned to get back and lie across her bed a few minutes to let her back stretch, she forgot the light touch. She pressed the accelerator while cranking the key. An awful grinding sound issued. “I can do this without Andrew,” she told herself.
She waited two long minutes. When Josie again tried the key, the motor turned over.
As soon as she reached home, Sylvie said, “You have three messages on the answering machine.” She stood next to the machine as Josie played them.
“Please call me,” Andrew said.
Stilling her breaths, Josie listened to the next call.
Andrew: “I need to talk to you.”
And the third: “I’ve come around and tried to see you. Please call.”
Josie walked off, but not before her upturned eyes met her mother’s. Sylvie’s gaze fell to the phone, her face expressing questions.
Not ready to explain, Josie whisked out of the kitchen.
Five minutes of lying in bed made her rested. She changed clothes and joined her mother and Colin for stovetop grilled chicken and green beans. “Mm, wonderful,” she said. “You do a great job.” Josie almost ended her compliment with
Mom
, for at the moment they felt like such a family.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Sylvie looked at Colin. “Eat all of those beans. Your body needs them.”
Colin groaned but ultimately speared some, and the whole scene made Josie’s mood lighten. This was one of the few times in so long that she felt like a daughter. And her mother seemed a parent, especially to Josie’s brother.
“Now you get to bed early,” Sylvie told Colin after they ate. “And listen to your sister.”
Colin rolled big eyes toward Josie. “Her?”
“Yes, her,” Josie said, making muscles. “If not, look out for big sister.”
He sniggered with a flippant motion that sent his bangs to the side.
Sylvie went to her room and when she returned Colin was hiding behind a sofa. Josie crept toward him. Sylvie slowed to peck both of them on the cheeks. “Not too late, Josie, okay?”
Again she sounded like a real mom. Instead of being offended for being spoken to like a child, Josie smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” She tipped her head and abruptly frowned, realizing she’d done like Andrew.
Drawing herself straight, she winked at Colin. She watched Sylvie running her gaze over the den. She stepped to the sofa, snagged a toss pillow, and changed its angle. Josie and Colin exchanged grins.
“We were about to clean up the kitchen,” Josie said.
“We?” Colin grimaced.
“Yes, we. You don’t have homework and those muscles need a workout.” She squeezed his arm, took note of how bony it felt, and released it.
They followed Sylvie to the backdoor. “I wish I didn’t have to work the late shift this evening,” she said. “But this darn midnight special. Whoever thought of such a thing? People can just shop during the day.”
The wind lifted her skirt when she went out.
At the back door, Josie felt a wind gust stronger than the breeze blowing over the gulf. LauraLee’s warning from the bank returned. A hurricane was nearing. Windswept might be in the quadrant that could draw tornadoes, LauraLee had added, right before that whole scene with Andrew.
Josie hadn’t checked on storm coordinates.
“Maybe you should stay home tonight,” she told her mother, who scuttled toward the garage. Josie stepped down behind her. “We might be getting some bad weather.”
Sylvie slipped into her car and drew keys from her bag. “That storm is aiming west of here.”
Josie peered outside the garage. A dark hush had settled in with the early evening. She felt a breeze whipping up. “We might be getting some strong gusts.”
“And we might get a few more.” Sylvie turned her key and her motor purred.
Josie repeated what a bridesmaid she’d fitted mentioned. “Some people along the coast are boarding up.”
Violet eyelids fluttered. “And some people worry too much.” Sylvie tapped Josie’s hand resting on her car door and gave a small smile. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s only a small storm, and it’s not coming here.”
Josie felt her mother’s fingers across hers massaging, like something a mom might do for a small child.
Josie felt like one.
Backing from the car, she nodded.
Sylvie shook her head. “Baby, you worry too much. You were even frightened about our neighbor.” She seemed to remember something and grabbed lipstick from her purse. With a quick flick, she brushed it across already coated lips. “And they found out he wasn’t even the right man.”
Josie’s head recoiled. “What?”
“Maurice admitted to doing those terrible things but the police proved he couldn’t have.” Sylvie’s lips pursed in a frown. “Some people will do anything to get attention.”