Authors: Grace Greene
“
I should have known I wouldn’t be enough. No matter what I did or how hard I tried.”
Another diversion.
“It’s not about you. Love is inclusive, right? It doesn’t divide, it multiplies. I’d like more family. You can understand that.”
“
I’m hearing platitudes and I don’t see how any good can come of this.”
Frannie sensed her pulling away and building up the barrier again. She laid it out as clearly as she could.
“I’m going to pull this thread until the whole garment unravels. If you want to have anything good left to show for the past thirty years, you’d do well to help me.”
Laurel
’s expression turned stony, as cold and remote as a sculpture.
Frannie picked up the china plate and held it out.
“Cookie?”
“
You can’t imagine how hurt I am. You think I have no feelings.”
Civil. Keep it civil.
“I think you’re going to tell me what I need to know.”
Laurel closed her swollen ey
es and drew in a ragged breath.
Diva.
“I met her once.”
“
You met her? You said you never knew her.”
Laurel nodded toward the front of the house.
“She showed up here one day. One meeting doesn’t constitute ‘knowing’ in my opinion.”
“
She was looking for me?” Breathless.
She shook her head.
“No. She wanted Edward.”
“
And?”
“
He was out of town. Actually, overseas on business. In Germany.”
“
Wait. I remember that. I was in second grade. He brought me back that nutcracker soldier, and I took it to school for show and tell.”
“
Yes, about then. She looked awful. I don’t know if it was illness, physical or mental. Maybe drugs, but whatever, she was terribly thin and not very clean. I was so grateful you were in school. I couldn’t begin to imagine how I’d explain her to you.”
Frannie
’s head spun. She didn’t know what to think. She tried to listen, but the mental image of a gaunt, frail Frances on the doorstep asking for her ex, for Frannie’s father, while their daughter was in school, was almost too much for her to process. Perhaps Laurel realized this because her pace picked up and she rushed through the next part.
“
She asked to see your father. I told her he wasn’t home. I said I’d tell him that she wanted to speak with him, but she wouldn’t say anything other than that she had something for him, or maybe it was that she wanted to say something to him. I think she was looking for some kind of favor. Probably money. Regardless, that’s what happened and then she left. I told your father when he returned home and he made the decision to leave the past in the past. That’s it.”
“
Hold on.” Frannie waved her hands. “There had to be more. How did she expect Dad to contact her? Did she leave a phone number? An address?”
“
I don’t remember. It was more than twenty years ago. Twenty-three? A phone number, I think. Does it matter? No, it doesn’t. In the end, your father chose not to respond and I agreed with him. It was the best decision for everyone.”
Her head was still spinning, now she was also speechless. What else? She had to ask Laurel now while she was talking.
“You said she died. When? Where?”
“
Please, Frannie. Dearest. Sweetheart. I don’t remember.”
“
Someone must have told you, right? Or did you read it somewhere? A newspaper, maybe?”
Laurel leaned forward. She put her hands on her face
and then rested her forehead in her hands, her elbows on the table, a posture of exhaustion. “I don’t think I can take much more.”
“
Did someone tell you?”
“
Someone told me? Or was it in a letter? Some distant relative of your father who happened upon the information. Not someone I knew. Maybe that’s why I can’t recall who.”
“
When?”
“
Truly, I do not remember. It was a few years after she’d been here.”
“
You said she went up north somewhere and died?”
“
I’ll give it some thought and try to remember. I can’t do anymore tonight. Please, Frannie, please tell me you know I’ve tried. I’ve been honest with you. You believe that, right?”
She nodded. Reluctantly, she said,
“Yes. Thank you.”
“
I’m exhausted now. I hope you’re not leaving right away.”
Frannie looked at the clock. It was almost nine p.m.
“No, I’ll go back tomorrow.”
“
After lunch, then? Let’s have ourselves a nice lunch. You choose the restaurant.” Laurel gave a weary smile.
“
Maybe brunch.” Inwardly, she groaned. She wanted to head straight back to the beach house, but there was a carrot dangling in front of her—maybe Laurel would remember more by morning.
****
It was past noon when she pulled into the driveway and parked under
Captain’s Walk
. As soon as she exited the car, she realized the air had changed. What had happened? It wasn’t only milder inland, but also here. Seventies. Blue sky. She left her suitcase and bag on the porch and walked straight out onto the dunes crossover. She stood at the end, overlooking the beach. A light wind, gusty, but warm, teased her hair. No chill.
She
lifted her face and closed her eyes. The waves sounded gently forceful and rhythmic, and from somewhere nearby, a child’s laughter filtered in. Her jacket was too warm. She pulled it off, draped it over the back of the bench and leaned forward against the railing.
A few couples walked
by in the sand. They waved and she waved back. A child chased a dog. A spaniel, maybe.
A man was holding tight to a kite string and far above his head, the kite danced
in the more powerful winds aloft. The kite swooped low and Frannie thought he might lose it, but he made some sort of adjustment and it sailed high again.
She
’d hadn’t stayed long with Laurel this morning. Laurel hadn’t recalled anything else, and, in fact, her good mood seemed to have fully recovered. Since Laurel wasn’t inclined to resume the discussion about Frances, Frannie wasn’t inclined to hang around, even for brunch.
“
Hi.”
She jumped and spun around.
“Brian? Where’d you come from?”
Brian
pointed a short distance down the beach. Megan was near the water’s edge staring at the ground.
“
Is she looking for shells?”
“
Yeah. We were taking a walk on the beach.” He laughed and rubbed his thigh. “Or, she wanted to take the walk and dragged me along.”
Frannie leaned back against the railing.
“From coats and scarves to spring. I can’t believe I brought my boots back with me.”
“
No worries. It isn’t spring yet. There may be more winter yet to come.”
“
Is your leg bothering you? Before, you mentioned an old injury. What happened? If this is too personal, please forget I asked.”
His mood clouded, but only briefly and he shook it off.
“About a year ago. A bike accident.” He brushed a hand over his thigh. “It’s recovered pretty well, but gives me trouble from time to time.”
He shook his leg as if to prove it
and then felt stupid.
She smiled,
“Good to hear.”
“
You seem a little happier today.” In fact, he noticed those vertical lines between her brows were almost gone. Remembering how he’d thought of smoothing out those lines with his thumb, he made a fist, perhaps afraid he might, after all, be tempted to help her get rid of the remaining trace.
She shrugged.
“I went to see my mother. I’m glad I’m back in time to enjoy a bit of this gorgeous weather.”
“
It’s supposed to be nice for the next few days. You should take advantage of it. Spend some time out here instead of hidden away in the house.”
“
I’m here to take care of business—Uncle Will’s business. It’s off-season now, so there’s time, but I’d like to have it all done and the house ready to go on the market at whatever point it’s necessary.”
There was a long silence. It drew out and she turned toward him.
“What?”
“
What’s the rush? You don’t know what’s going to happen. He could recover.”
“
You’re protective of him. That’s nice, but when it comes down to it, I’m his protector, at least of his property. I don’t want to be the disposer of his property. I want to believe he’ll be able to come back home.”
“
He’ll come home.”
She stared down at the railing.
“Do you really think so? I’ve spoken to his doctor. He hopes for more improvement, but how much?” She pushed her hair behind her ear and watched him from the corner of her eye. “Do you have reason to believe differently?”
His shoulders moved in a funny kind of hitch and shrug.
“No, but anything’s possible.”
She turned to face him fully.
“Well, I hope you’re right. I’d like nothing better than to welcome him home.”
He
liked the words and the way she stood and returned his look without blinking. Seemed like he should say something to her, but he didn’t know what. He focused beyond her, searching for the missing thought, and his attention shifted when he saw the empty beach.
“
Where’s Megan?”
Frannie
turned quickly and scanned the beach. “I think that might be her up that way, near those other children.”
“
I told her to stay nearby. She’s in trouble.” He raised a hand, but she wasn’t looking this way. “Interested in a walk?
“
To catch up to Megan?”
“
That too.”
He watched her face. Her expression seemed to brighten, but there were shadows
under those eyes. “It will do you good and it’s a crime not to appreciate a day like this.”
“
Thanks, but I came straight out here.” She waved toward the porch. “I dumped my stuff by the door and there’s more in the car.”
“
It’s not going anywhere.”
She looked doubtful.
“When we’re ready to leave, I’ll carry your stuff up.”
She smiled
broadly. “It’s a deal.”
She started down the stairs. He gestured at her to stop.
“Leave your shoes there. You don’t need them.”
Dubious, she frowned, but stepped back up and slid her shoes off.
From his vantage point a few steps down, he said, “You’re wearing hose or nylons or something. Get rid of them.”
S
he raised her eyebrows, but cooperated, hiking up her pants legs. She slid off the trouser-socks.
“
Those aren’t allowed at the beach at any time.”
“
Beachcombers are now determining what’s acceptable to wear? I don’t think so.”
He couldn
’t tell if she was serious or just wanting to start another one of those word jousts. “When in Rome….”
“
Touché.”
“
Roll up the pants legs.”
She was making a mess of it, so he stepped up and reached over. She stood passively while he folded the fabric up to below her knees.
“There.”
Stiffly, formally, with her hands on her hips, she asked,
“Am I now acceptably dressed for a walk on the beach?”
“
No, but don’t worry, we’ll work on it.” He extended his hand. “Come with me.”
He had a lot of nerve
putting her through all that ‘dressing right for the beach walk’ stuff, and then fretting over how she rolled up her pants legs. Nonsense.
Rolling up her pants legs hadn
’t mattered anyway. When she stopped to look at a shell embedded in the wet sand, and didn’t move fast enough, those pants got soaked to above her knees. And what did he do? He laughed. She did, too. It was a lovely antidote to the hours spent with Laurel.
Frannie rubbed her arms.
“It’s getting late. Sun sets early this time of year and takes the warmth with it.”
Brian called his daughter and she came willingly enough which was a testament to the chill that was setting in. Watching Megan running through the sand toward them, Frannie suddenly realized how odd this would seem to Megan
’s mom, and Brian’s wife, if Megan mentioned their walk on the beach.