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Authors: Sally John

The Beach House (43 page)

BOOK: The Beach House
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“Hear, hear.”

They clanked their glasses together and, as one, signaled the waitress.

Fifty-Eight

Char’s phone rang as she rode in the backseat of Jo’s SUV on their way to the beach house after dinner.

As when Andie’s had rung earlier in the desert garden, everyone stopped talking and waited with breaths held. They probably also did what she did: wonder why they hadn’t stuck to their agreement to leave the flaming things turned off. The bothersome fake musical notes tended to shatter peaceful environments.

She dug it from her bag and flipped it open. The ID screen lit up in the dark car. It was her husband’s cell phone number. He was using his own phone! “It’s Cam!”

A delicious tickle went through her. Thank goodness she hadn’t turned hers off. Imagine! C.P. calling her!

“Hi, sugar!”

“Hi, honey-buns!”

She giggled. “You’re using your phone.”

“Of course. I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

“Oh, Cam!”

“I even remembered you programmed your number into my cell. You’re number one. In all ways.”

She laughed. “You are such a fast learner.”

“Third in my class at dental school. Think how great I’ll be once I get going on something I like to do.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. “How was your flight?”

“Just fine. The kids are just fine. My folks enjoyed their short stay. Guess what else is fine? Besides you, that is.”

“I have no idea!”

“That retail space on Fifth is available.”

“Oh.”

“The Realtor took me through. It’s perfect. Guess what.”

“I-I don’t know.”

He chuckled. “We’re meeting tomorrow to sign the lease!”

“Oh.” Char pressed the automatic window button and lowered it. “Well.” She stuck her face through it. The air whipped her hair at eighty miles an hour. “Oh, my. Uh, color me flabbergasted, sugar.”

“What’d you say?”

The wind must have muffled her voice. She pulled her head back inside. “I said color me flabbergasted.”

“That’s what I thought.” A grin was evident in his tone. “Listen. It is such a great deal, I couldn’t pass it up. I’ll tell you all about it when you get home. I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and apply for a business loan. There will be remodeling costs right off the bat. We can probably sign those papers on Friday. What did you do for Molly’s birthday?”

“Uh, how about I call you back in a bit? We’re in the car and I’m sure the girls don’t want to listen to me jabber away.”

In unison they whispered loudly, “Jabber away.”

She waved a hand at them. “I’ll call you, Cam.”

“Okay, honey-buns. Love you.”

“Love you too! Toodle-oo!”

Char closed up the phone and gazed through the open window. Numb.

Andie patted her arm. “Hon, do you mind if we shut the window? It’s a little cool.”

She shook her head but didn’t budge. He signed a lease? He was getting a loan?

The window went up by itself. The movement caught her attention. Jo must have used the driver’s control button.

“Oh. Sorry, ladies.”

“That’s okay,” Andie said. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Oh, my. Oh my word.” The first syllable was a sigh. The following ones disintegrated into one long drone.

“What is it?”

Where to begin? “Dear Cam. He called me honey-buns and he asked what we did and he told me he loved me. Twice. Can you imagine? All in one little old phone conversation.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Oh.” It was the drone again. “There must be some weird real estate phenomenon in play. He’s signing a lease on a retail space tomorrow and borrowing money to open a restaurant in it!”

Her friends remained silent, obviously at a loss for words.

“Exactly.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “There is nothing to say.”

Fifty-Nine

Last to troop through the front door, Molly waved at Julian as he walked past the beach house. Lamplight reflected off his glasses and revealed his enigmatic smile.

“Goodnight, ladies!”

“’Night!” Molly called out, chuckling over what he must think of them, together one night and not the next. He probably chalked it up to women being women. Maybe that was why he wasn’t married.

At her elbow, Char whispered, “Our guardian angel, out on his nightly crusade to help the helpless.”

Andie smiled. “And offer hope to the hopeless.”

“Uplift the downtrodden,” Molly added as she shut the door.

“Encourage the despondent,” Andie chortled.

Char said, “Rescue damsels in distress.”

Giggles overtook the three of them.

Jo rolled her eyes. “You three probably want to invite him inside to play Trivial Pursuit.”

“Nope,” Char said. “I have to make a phone call.”

Andie walked across the room. “And I want to put on my jammies. Then I’ll find the game. I know I saw it in one of these closets.”

“Good.” Jo sprawled facedown onto the couch and moaned. “I’m not up for company. I don’t want to see another piece of cheesecake for a long time!”

Molly followed Char into the hallway, unbuttoning the waistband on her slacks. “Jammies sound good to me. Gotta make room for the popcorn.”

Char laughed. “Popcorn! We just ate. You are pregnant, girl.” She walked into her room and Molly went to hers.

She shut the door and sat on the edge of her bed. Something besides her waistband felt binding. It was probably in her spirit.

“Okay, Lord, what is it? I’m listening now. I’m done whining. For the moment, anyway. You understand that, right? I’m only human.”

Fussing had consumed a lot of energy, energy put to better use when she took her mind off herself. She slid to the floor and knelt beside the bed.

“Lord, I praise You. You alone are God and worthy of praise.” She touched her abdomen. “I don’t like this situation. It’s not what I wanted for my future. But You’re in charge. I’ll try to let You be in charge. I guess…”

She hesitated, knowing full well she still held back, her fist squeezed around a puny sense of control.

“I guess—Oh! Like You don’t know what I’m thinking. The thing is I do not want to pry my fingers apart and let go! But if I don’t, I’ll just be miserable. So I guess I’m asking You to…” She buried her face in her hands and whispered, “Change my heart. Please change my heart.”

The prayer was a familiar one.
Change my heart. I don’t want to leave Chicago. I don’t want to marry a pastor. I don’t want to quit teaching. I don’t want more than two children. I don’t want to live in the Northwest. I really don’t want to live in a dinky one-horse town in the Northwest. I don’t want to admit marriage and children have not fulfilled me
.

God always answered, and she always felt, in the end, that He enabled her to go with the flow, His holy flow.

But this one? This one was the hardest of all.

Sixty

Back at the beach house, Char went into her room and shut the door. What was she going to say to Cam? This was not what she had in mind! But how could she discourage him at this point? He was so open with her! So thoughtful of her!

Well, except for the part about blasting their financial security to bits.

She sat on the bed and stared at her cell phone. She thought of silly calls with Todd. She thought of that tar feeling. She thought of Jesus on the cross, covered with her gunk, and of that fresh wholesome feeling.

Maybe she should ask Molly to pray.

Molly said she could do it herself, though. Anytime, anywhere, with whatever words came to mind.

“Lord,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

Something didn’t feel quite right. She glanced about the room. What was it?

“I’m not in church. But Molly says anywhere works. I guess I could…”

Feeling rather silly, Char scooted off the bed and knelt beside it.

“Yes, that’s better. Lord, I’m new at this. I guess You know that, though. Are You listening? Molly says You are. I don’t know what to do. Imagine that! I’m at a loss for ideas. Fresh out of words for Cam. So I’m asking for Your help. Amen. Oh, thank You for Cam. Thank You for how he has changed. As I live and breathe, I never would have imagined that, either! Amen. Oh, and will You help Andie too? Paul sounds like such a nincompoop. Can I say that? Okay. Amen.”

She opened her eyes and stood. “Here goes nothing.”

The phone rang on the bed. She picked it up, saw Savannah’s cell number, and answered.

“Honey! Hi!”

“Mom!” Her daughter wailed so loudly Char moved the phone from her ear.

“Sugar, what is it?”

“It’s Dad!”

“What’s wrong?”

“He won’t let me go to Evan’s tonight!”

“Well, of course not, dear. It’s a school night.”

“But he never says no! What did you do to him?”

Char covered the mouthpiece and laughed.

Savannah’s voice continued to ring out loud and clear. “He’s a flaming fossil! Grandma and Grandpa were going to take me. Evan’s mom said she’d bring me home. He invited me and Allie. Just us to study algebra, and she gets to go!”

“You know the rules. Boys and school nights—”

“Dad doesn’t have to do a thing. Grandma even liked my outfit. Then Dad walks in, takes one look, and laughs. ‘I don’t think so,’ he says. And then he says I’m not going anywhere anyway on a school night at seven o’clock. And then he smiles and says—get this—he says ‘I love you.’ What has gotten into him?”

“Oh, sugar.” Char didn’t hold back her laugh. “Your daddy had a lesson in verbal communication, that’s all. And he loves you. Do you know how fortunate you are to hear him say that?”

“I want my couch potato dad back! This dad is ruining everything. Allie will get Evan now. Just wait and see. She’ll move right on in. My best friend and the guy I love! My life is over!”

Char waited for her daughter’s tears to slow. Evan had been her main crush since August. He hadn’t given any indication the feeling was mutual. An invitation to his house must have excited her to no end.

“Savannah, sugar, it will work out. Now you just mind your daddy.”

“Why should I? Grandma thinks he’s being ridiculous. She’ll still take me.”

“No, Savannah. Your daddy knows what’s best for you and all of us.”

“You’re no help!”

“Some day it will make sense. Bye, honey.”

“Goodbye!” She disconnected.

Char replayed her advice. He knows what’s best. For all of them.

Did she really believe that?

It was so new, the concept of Cam participating in family life, of offering opinions, of setting boundaries for Savannah. What a change! What an incredibly good feeling it left inside of her!

Char thought she had known best. Where had that taken them? To the brink of disaster.

Cam knew about financial security, and now he knew about expressing his love, which he thought was synonymous with providing for them. No way was he going to hurt them.

Of course he knew what was best.

Sixty-One

Jo pulled shut the fireplace screen and admired her handiwork. The crackling fire chased away the cool, damp night air and did its magical thing on the environment, which was to make it perfectly cozy.

The game board was set up on the coffee table between the couch and love seat. Bone china teacups and saucers graced end tables.

Jo smiled. It was their second to last night together and already she was missing her friends. At least Andie would be staying another week.

“Hey, everyone.” Jo retrieved a bag she’d placed on a chair and joined the others on the couches. “Before we start, I have gifts.”

“Jo!” Andie said. “Gifts? After all you’ve done for us? Not the least of which was bringing us together. You shouldn’t have!”

“They’re just little mementoes to remember our time together.”

Char clapped her hands like a delighted child. “Well, sugars, hang on. I’ve got to go get mine.”

“Your what?”

She only giggled and raced off to her bedroom.

“Me too.” Molly uncurled herself from the couch and moved in her languid way.

Andie stood and shrugged. “What’s a birthday—even a make-believe one—without gifts?” She headed to her room.

Jo said to the empty room, “Guess I didn’t exactly bowl them over with my thoughtfulness.”

Within moments they were all passing around plain bags to each other, laughing at the impromptu gift exchange, oohing and aahing over each other’s creative keepsakes.

Char described how she had found colorful scarves at a kiosk the first day she strolled down the boardwalk. Andie gave them boxed note cards from the art museum’s shop, illustrated with French paintings. Molly surprised them with used books, easily purchased right under their noses as they’d browsed separately among the stacks of three shops.

BOOK: The Beach House
4.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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