Beach Winds (11 page)

She
thumbed through the remaining letters. There were big gaps between them. Most had news about people she didn’t know and mundane news at that.

The next letter was early 198
6. It announced the marriage of Edward to Laurel and referred cryptically to things in the past being best left in the past.

What had happened to Frances?

She sat on the stool reading all of the letters and then re-read them.
Suspend thought. Suspend emotion
. She was good at holding it in no matter how fiercely it burned inside of her. She’d had lots of practice.

Frannie
spent the last hours before sunrise curled up on the sofa. She opened the window blinds wide wanting to see the day, wanting the night to be done. As soon as the sky began to lighten, she yanked down the sheet.

She
needed to talk to Uncle Will. If only Uncle Will were able to converse. Blink once for yes and twice for no? She didn’t know what questions to ask, except one: why hadn’t anyone told her Laurel wasn’t her birth mother?

That left Mother. Laurel. In Raleigh.

And she had a lot of explaining to do.

****

Frannie had hoped the sight of the rising sun would soothe her, inspire her, anything except keep this hard anger knotted up inside her.

Somewhere out there in the winter cold, a woman named Frances might still be alive. Might be a mile away,
maybe a thousand miles.

S
he stood in the hot shower, feeling the tension ease in her neck and back, but nothing could erase the dark smudges from under her eyes.

Brian
arrived early. She opened the door and stood aside without a word. He entered carrying a long box. He stopped and eyed her warily.

“
Something wrong?”

She sighed heavily.
“No. Yes. It doesn’t matter.” She turned away running her fingers through her hair. Was Frances out there? Or with another family? Why did she care? Was she so desperate to put Laurel out of her life that she was ready to replace her with a total stranger?

Father had loved Laurel. She should at least respect her for his sake.

Father. He’d never mentioned Frances either.

“
Fran?”

She said,
“I have to go to Raleigh.”

“
Do you want me to skip painting today?”

H
is movement was awkward when he knelt to set the paint cans in the hallway.

“
You’re limping. I noticed you doing that before.”

“
Old injury. The cold tightens it up.” Suddenly, he stopped. He was looking at Will’s desk. She’d left it open.

She stammered, feeling an irrational need to justify the intrusion.
“I put it off as long as I could, but it’s time.”

He turned his back to fetch the ladder. When he faced her again, his expression was clear.
“When will you be back?”

Out of nowhere, she blurted,
“I’m exhausted. I was up all night.” She sat heavily down upon the couch.

After a pause, he asked,
“Do you have to go?”

She nodded.

“Not safe to drive if you’re that tired.”

“
True.”

“
You sure it’s not something you can take care of over the phone?”

She smiled but
there was no happiness in it. “No, this is something that has to be discussed face to face.”

“
Then put if off a day or two. Does the timing matter that much?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Make yourself a cup of that fancy tea you like and then go do what you girls like to do when you’re down.”

She frowned. Doubtful, she asked,
“What’s that?”

“
Manicure and pedicure, right? That’s what Maia does.”

It tickled her somewhere deep inside.
She was worried about a mother who wasn’t hers, and a missing Frances. The suggestion of a manicure, coming from Brian, was almost too much.

“
Thanks for the advice, but I’ll pass.”

“
Then a movie with a big bucket of buttered popcorn.”

She slumped, leaning her head against the back of the sofa.
“I haven’t seen a movie in… I don’t know how long.”

“
Well, then?”

Her spirits rose. Over the prospect of a movie? Sort of.

Brian added, “Get Maia to go with you.”

Not an invitation to go with him. She covered up her brief confusion by saying,
“Nice of you to offer her up. It’s not like she’s busy or anything. Seriously, your sister is sweet, but I don’t think I know her well enough. We’re not really friends. She sold me a painting. I don’t think that’s an invitation to hang out.”

He sat in the chair.
“Maia told me how much she likes you.” He waved his hand. “No worries. I don’t discuss other people. Privacy. I demand my own and respect that of others.” He shrugged. “I only mention it because you don’t seem to know many people around here.”

“
Well, that’s true. Only Uncle Will.”

“
It’s a pretty lonely place in the winter.”

“
I like quiet. No problem there.” She sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not up to the drive today. Too far and I’m too tired. I could use some fresh air, though. Maybe I’ll go pay my uncle a visit.”

She noticed the long
box Brian had brought with him was on the floor near the sliding doors.

“
What’s that?”

“
Your new vertical blinds.”

She didn
’t want to seem ungrateful. She tried to show some interest. “Need some help hanging them?”

“
No. I’ve got it handled. Want to approve them first?”

She shook her head.

“Yeah. You’re too tired. You’d better stay local.”

****

It was a bit of a drive to Morehead City and the mainland, but distance was relative and the off-season road belonged to her. She rolled down her window for a few miles to allow the cold air to blow through.

She
’d been all caught up, racked up, overwrought, too much so to think clearly. She owed Brian a thank you although he didn’t fully understand the favor he’d done her. It wouldn’t hurt anyone for her to slow down. She’d take another look at those letters tonight. Now that she was more familiar with them, the information wouldn’t be such a shock. She might notice details she’d missed last night. She’d do it cozied up with a blanket on the sofa, or maybe business-like at her uncle’s desk. Until then, she’d try to put it out of her head.

****

He was sitting in his room in a wheelchair, situated such that with little effort he could see out through the window or into the hallway. He wasn’t looking at either, but stared straight ahead, his head tilted to the side and his face expressionless. He could’ve been asleep except that his eyes were open. His hands were half-fisted, fingers curled, lying empty on the armrests.

His face might be expressionless, but an aura of gloom and despair surrounded him. If she stepped into that
energy field—a minefield of negative energy—every happy thought, every dream would be sucked right into it, like a void. A black hole. What was she doing here? She couldn’t help him out of his dreadful state. She had nothing to offer.

She coughed and said,
“Uncle Will?”

He blinked, but otherwise didn
’t move.

Frannie
moved to stand in front of him. He was wearing pajamas with a robe.

“
Hi. How are you doing?”

Still nothing. Perhaps his eyes shifted, but that might have been imagined or a reflex.

She looked around, “Where’s Janet?”

No answer.
She dragged a chair over. That ugly pink vinyl-covered chair. She sat so that their eyes were at the same level. “I’m here to give you a painting update.”

This was going to be another one-sided conversation.
She forced animation into her delivery.

“
So, remember I told you I was giving the inside of your house a fresh coat of paint? Well, I am and it’s looking good. Remember Brian? Not only did he do house repairs for you, but he’s a painter, too, and doing a beautiful job.”

Yes,
now his eyes were definitely turned her way.

“
The shade is neutral, but with a little color. I was going to keep it off-white, but Brian convinced me to try it and I have to admit it’s gorgeous.” A little over the top, maybe, but anything for a reaction. “If you don’t like it, we’ll put it back to off-white, but I hope you’ll reserve judgment until you’ve had the chance to see it.”

This time his attention focused on her, unmistakably. She saw his lips move and thought he might be trying to smile, but he wasn
’t.

“
Home.” His head bobbed forward as he said it and his hands shook.

“
Home,” she echoed softly. “Soon, I hope.” She felt like a liar. She reached over and touched his hand and then withdrew hers quickly, surprised she’d done that.

“
Hello, Ms. Denman.”

Janet
stood in the doorway with a tray. She entered and placed the tray on an adjustable table, which she positioned in front of Will. “He didn’t like what they served for lunch.” She pulled up her own chair. “You’re getting real particular these days, aren’t you, Mr. Will?”

Uncle Will shook his finger at
Janet, but didn’t speak.

“
What about your van, Uncle Will? Do you want me to sell it?”

Where had that
question come from? To make him care, or to express that he cared about something, other than going home? She couldn’t ask the question uppermost on her mind. When they’d met a year ago, why hadn’t he said anything about Frances?

Because he assumed she knew?

The old man with the sunken cheeks glared at her. The spoon Janet held hovered nearby, ignored.

“
No.”

Hardly a syllable and raspy, but he left no doubt.
No.

“
So I shouldn’t sell the van?”

Janet
was glaring, too.

“
No. Van.”

She shrugged slowly, casually.
“Up to you. But if you plan on driving it again, then you’d better eat and get your strength back. Why don’t I ask Brian to drive it every so often? How’s the physical therapy going?”

“
Every day, he does therapy. Plus we do exercises.”

“
Good. Keep it up.” She was suddenly out of steam. “Can I bring you anything the next time I come to visit?”

His watery hazel eyes fixed upon her again. A speck of pudding marred his chin. His jaw tensed
. He pointed at her and clearly said, “Sister.”

She
’d had in mind some special food or personal item, not a person. She started to correct him, to remind him that he didn’t have a sister, but caught herself.

“
You mean Penny?” Wasn’t she deceased?

He shook his head
‘no’ then ‘yes’.

“
Mr. Will, you need to eat your dinner.”

“
I’ll be on my way.”

Janet
followed her out, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

She confronted Frannie in the hallway.
“What’s going on?”

“
Nothing. Well, that is, he looked so sad when I arrived. I thought he could use a bit of stimulation.”

Janet
stared. “That’s not necessarily a bad idea, but don’t overdo it.”

She nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”

Frannie went out the front door and climbed into her car.

What now? Had she secretly hoped to get answers from Will? If so, she knew now there was no help coming from him. Not at this time. Maybe never.

She sat in the car in the
rehab parking lot and watched the traffic go past. The sky was a steel gray blanket of clouds and the late winter trees were drab.

Was there some tiny memory of Frances buried deep in her brain? Did she remember a time before Laurel? No. And there was no one else to ask.

****

Frannie expected Brian to still be painting the bedroom, especially since his bike was parked next to her car. She didn
’t expect to see a child sitting on her porch.

She
’d entered by the side door, so her first view of the child was of her back through the window fronting on the ocean. She opened the door and looked outside. The girl was bundled up in a coat and knitted cap. A purple scarf was around her neck and her hands were stuffed in her pockets.

“
Hello?”

The girl
turned to look at Frannie. She pouted, or glowered, and without a word, she looked back toward the ocean.

The wind was kicking up and the gusts were icy. In between, it was actually nice. The sun was like a gift that kept trying to warm the day.
The clouds had cleared away, at least here on the edge of the ocean.

“
Fran?”

Brian was in the living room.
She closed the front door.

“
Is she yours?”

He was holding a
paintbrush. “Yes. Megan. Her mother dropped her off unexpectedly.”

She hadn
’t had any idea that Brian was married. Not that it mattered, but still, she felt a twinge of disappointment. More than a twinge. She looked toward the porch, then back again.

“
Why is she outside?”

He shrugged.
“What she wanted. I guess she’s mad.”

“
Mad? Are you going to leave her sulking on the porch? The wind is cold.” She left it implied that as her father, it was his responsibility to make her do what was best for her regardless of her mood.

“
Give it a shot. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

“
Fine, then.” She stuck her head out of the door again. “Inside. Now.”

She stood there, holding the door ajar, until the girl rose and did as she was told.

“Hang your coat over there. I’m fixing tea. Who wants some?”

“
I’ll get back to painting.”

She fixed her eyes on Brian.
“We’ll all have some. How about that?”