The Beach House (26 page)

“Good evening, ladies.” Julian’s voice turned their attention from the house. He stood on the other side of the white picket fence.

As usual, Molly felt drawn to him and smiled. Like Jo’s question regarding the beach house, she asked herself,
What is it about the neighbor
? He didn’t say much, but when he did talk his soft voice was like a soothing whisper. His dark eyes always twinkled behind his glasses and conveyed a distinct warmth.

“Hi,” she said.

Jo’s stiff response indicated that, unlike the house, he hadn’t yet grown on her.

Andie, on the other hand, greeted him with a smile. “Julian, is there a Chinese restaurant nearby where we can get carryout?”

“Chang’s, two blocks north on the main drag. No MSG.”

She laughed. “You’re better than the yellow pages. Come on in and have a seat.”

At Andie’s invitation, Jo straightened in her chair and crossed her arms as well as her legs. Molly wondered at her defensiveness.

Julian stepped onto the patio and joined Andie at the table. “You missed the sunset.”

Molly glanced at the ocean. The sun had disappeared already behind a bank of clouds on the horizon. “Aww, we did. There goes that tradition.”

Andie giggled. “After three times straight. Oh, well. I guess there was just way too much on our minds. I’m glad I got in my boogie boarding before the day went bananas on us.”

Jo rolled her eyes as if to say
Don’t go there
.

Julian said, “The waves were great, weren’t they?”

Molly thought he must have caught Jo’s expression and politely didn’t ask about the “bananas” comment. She tuned out their ensuing discussion of the morning’s wave situation and picked up the cell phone. She hadn’t figured out the redial shortcut, and so she punched in the string of numbers yet again. A moment later the busy signal buzzed in her ear. Her stomach tightened.

Lord, I can’t do this alone
.

You’re not alone
.

“Still nothing?” Jo said.

“No. I can’t understand it. A busy signal for hours? Scotty and the kids would not be on the phone or Internet this long.”

Julian said, “Excuse me. Molly, you’re from Oregon, right? The southern coast?” The guy had quite a memory.

“Yes.”

“I just heard they’re getting pounded with storms and high winds. Phone lines are down, power is off.”

“Really?” A sense of relief flooded her. “That’s great.”

Three puzzled expressions faced her.

She shrugged. “Hurricane-force winds are no big deal. I used to panic when we first moved there, but I’m used to it now. I’m sure my family is fine. I’m just glad to know why I can’t get through. Thanks, Julian.”

“Sure. Always glad to be the bearer of bad news.” His smile barely curved the corners of his mouth.

Jo said, “You watch the Weather Channel?” Sarcasm dripped from her innocent question.

“It’s a favorite.”

Andie stood. “I’m hungry. Julian, would you like to eat Chinese with us?”

“Thank you, but I have plans. I’d be glad to show you the way to Chang’s.”

“Great.” She turned to Molly and Jo, pointing at each in turn. “Anything with seafood. Lots of veggies and extra for whomever should wander by in need of a meal. Anything else?”

They shook their heads.

“Okay. Back soon. I have money.” She followed Julian around the corner of the house.

As the sound of their footsteps and voices faded, Jo uncrossed her legs. “Remember what she said about Char and Todd?” she murmured.

“Which part?”

“The part about how she wished some guy would give her a
fraction
of the attention Todd’s giving Char.”

The insinuation felt like a Ping-Pong ball ricocheting in Molly’s head. It wouldn’t settle in. “Andie and Julian?”

“He convinced her to swim in the ocean. She sat here with a loony grin on her face like a moonstruck teenager while he talked about
weather
. Now they’re off to buy dinner together. He probably declined her invitation because we’re here.”

“No, Jo.”

“Maybe, Molly.”

“No, not Andie.”

“If you were married to Paul…?” She let the thought float where it would.

Molly grimaced. She never had cared much for Paul Sinclair. An overly aggressive sales type, he’d latched onto the spunky redhead because—Molly had always assumed—she brought to the table every grace he lacked. Which was every grace under the sun. Andie made Paul more presentable and the guy was smart enough to figure that out.

“Molly, you and I both know he never was trustworthy. For goodness’ sake, he made a pass at me the night of their rehearsal dinner.”

“He did? You never told me that.”

Jo closed her eyes. “We both had too much to drink.”

She waited a full minute, debating with herself whether or not she wanted to hear any more. At last she said, “Jo?”

“We didn’t. Ernie was picking me up.” She opened her eyes and looked at Molly. “Otherwise a few stolen kisses would not have been the end of the story. He’s a donkey’s behind and so am I.”

All for one and one for all
? Molly saw the pain on Jo’s face and bit back the smart remark. It wasn’t necessary. “She’ll forgive you.”

“She shouldn’t.”

“God shouldn’t forgive any of us. But Jesus came and He does.”

“Should we pray?”

Molly’s throat tightened. Now Jo wanted to pray? Char was out on a date with Todd. Andie was on a semi-date with Julian. Jo was confessing to Molly as though she were a priest who wanted to hear such things. Molly herself was pregnant—the last thing on earth she wanted or expected or needed—and she couldn’t even tell Scott about it. Where had prayer gotten them so far? Seemed like into a heap of trouble. What was that verse about seeing the back of God? As if He were walking away. In disinterest? Or was it anger?

Suddenly chilled despite the lingering heat, she stood. “I need a sweatshirt.” And then she went inside the beach house.

Molly sat with Andie and Jo at the kitchen table. The house remained warm after the hot day, and so they did not build a fire in the fireplace. Molly missed the cheery snap and pop, the warm glow of flickering flames.

They ate steamed rice and kung pao shrimp and moo goo gai pan with chopsticks straight from cartons. The meal was the quietest they had shared in four days. Maybe in their entire lives, not counting the times one or the other of their parents deigned to include the girls in a family gathering.

Molly said, “I hope I don’t stifle my kids’ freedom of expression. Never, ever.”

Jo and Andie turned puzzled faces toward her. Jo said, “How did you get to that?”

“I was just thinking how quiet we are tonight. It reminded me of how we’d all go silent when we were at each other’s homes eating dinner with family. Except for your dad, Andie. He never stifled us. We let loose with him, didn’t we?”

Her smile was wistful. “We did—if my mom wasn’t nearby. She stifled him as well as anyone within shouting distance.”

“How is your mom?” Jo asked.

“Unavailable.”

The adjective fit all three of their mothers. Of course, it fit Char’s too, but they never used it in front of her.

Andie went on. “She adores Florida and her fourth husband. How are your mothers?”

Together Molly and Jo replied, “Unavailable.”

Andie nodded. “Why is it they were unavailable and yet had the power to stifle us so?”

Jo raised a shoulder. “Because we could never live up to their expectations. We grasped that fact by the time we were nine, and it choked us. Why bother revealing our loathsome little selves to their scrutiny? We were in survival mode.”

Andie said, “Molly, I’m sure you make your kids feel safe.”

“I try. I’ve had the best example from my mom of what
not to
do. My goal has been to create an environment the exact opposite of what I grew up in. Now I wonder if I’ve been dismantling all the hard work, creeping out my kids with this wacky post-forty routine.”

Jo speared a wonton. “You’re just showing them a bit of real life. Mom is human; she has feelings too. I seriously doubt they are harmed by a few months of not having their itch scratched before they even notice a prickling sensation.”

Molly felt suddenly weary of Jo’s superior attitude. It had always been there, of course, and Molly had always accepted it. At the moment, though, she couldn’t muster a whit of sympathy. Yes, given her home environment, Jo had scant chance of
not
adopting a superior attitude. But so what? They all had their cross to bear.

Jo bit into the wonton and chewed as she spoke. “You’re like Andie’s dad when it comes to unconditional acceptance. You’re nothing like our mothers.”

“You still talk with your mouth full.” Molly was startled to hear her voice utter the thought.

Jo swallowed. “Comes from eating alone while watching the news and telling the talking head exactly what I think.”

“I’m not going to feel sorry for you, Jo. We all make our own beds.”

“And I’m not going to feel sorry for you just because you’re going to have a fifth child to perfectly mother.”

Andie’s chopsticks clattered into an empty carton. “Well.” She sat up straighter, her face aglow. “Speaking of my dad, guess who reminds me of him?”

Molly stared blankly at her.

Andie smiled. “Right here in San Diego.”

Molly shook her head.

“Right next door.”

“Julian?”

“Yes. I mean the accent is different, but he has a funny little one just like my dad had a funny little one. And the pitch of his voice is the same. Or maybe it’s the cadence. Soft and gentle. I’m surprised I can hear him when a wave crashes over us. My dad was bald, whereas Julian has a head full of thick hair. But still I keep thinking of—oh, this is so silly.”

Molly said, “It can’t be as silly as me mentioning Jo’s lifelong chewing habit.”

“Or as silly as…” Jo scooped a crab rangoon from a box, popped the entire thing into her mouth, and chewed. “As silly as me telling Molly she’s a perfect mother when I know darn well she isn’t because no one is. So what do you keep thinking of, Andie?”

She sighed. “My dad and me swimming in Lake Michigan.”

“I’d forgotten he liked to do that,” Molly said. “He took the three of us a few times. What were we, about ten?”

“Mm-hmm. He and I went all the time as far back as I can remember, until he started traveling more. Anyway, the point is, Julian makes me feel safe like my dad did.”

“That’s not silly,” Molly said. “We all long to feel safe, at any age. Even forty.”

“Hmm,” was Jo’s noncommittal response.

Andie said, “Remember our first night here? I was so afraid of every single thing from the freeway to going outside in the dark. I only felt safe in my cozy room. And then you prayed, Molly, and took me outside to see the midnight ocean.”

“Spunky Andie woke up.”

“She did. And she’s making spunky plans for her day tomorrow.”

Molly exchanged a horrified glance with Jo. “Oh, Andie! We totally forgot!”

“That’s okay.”

Jo set down her chopsticks at last. “No, it’s not okay. Saturday is your day, birthday take number two. Thank goodness that snake won’t be around to disrupt our time together. He did say he was leaving for Phoenix tonight, right?”

“Yes, but the thing is, about my day…”

Molly held her breath. But the thing about her day, what?

Oh, Lord, please don’t let her say she’s spending it with Julian
!

“Well, I’ve been thinking long and hard about what I need most. I know that’s not the point of our second birthday celebrations. Then again, maybe they are the same thing. What I need most is also what I want most. That would make it a celebration, wouldn’t it? Then again, it’s such a selfish thing.” She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “I mean, we’re all here together and should—”

“Andie.” At Jo’s harsh voice, Molly jumped. “It’s your day. Just spit it out. There is no right or wrong answer here. What do you want to do? Or need to do? There is no difference!”