Beach Rental (5 page)

The girl who had no dreams, now had opportunity with a capital O—and an obligation to do right by her husband, the man whose loneliness and approaching death made hope possible.

Chapter Five

In the morning, Juli overslept. She hadn’t slept this late since—maybe never. She rushed out of bed and into the shower. Was she keeping Ben waiting? She pulled on her jeans and was still buttoning her shirt as she unlocked her bedroom door—at just about the same moment as his door opened on the other side of the hall.

They emerged from their separate rooms like congenial acquaintances who, by chance, exit their hotel rooms at the same time.

“Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Yes, very.”

“Ready for breakfast? I think I told you last night, I have somewhere special in mind.”

Conversation was sparse. Awkwardness was abundant. Ben drove them across the bridge into Morehead City, then across the bridge to Beaufort.

The wind-buffeted water was choppy far below. As they passed over each bridge, Juli stared at the whitecaps as if she’d never seen such things before. It was a reprieve from conversation. When Ben cleared his throat she looked at him, but didn’t push it when he failed to speak. He parked in a public lot and they walked quietly down the street past several stores.

They brunched at a restaurant overlooking the waterfront. When the food arrived and they started eating, Ben caught her eye. She took a sip of water. “Yes?”

“When you said there was no one you wanted to invite to the marriage ceremony, I thought maybe you didn’t want your family and friends to know, but now I’m wondering.”

“I told you about my childhood. I grew up in foster homes.”

“Not even any extended family?”

“What’s this with you and food? Or is it being in a restaurant that gets you curious?” She tried to keep her tone light but warn him off at the same time.

“Have you stayed in touch with any of them? The foster families?”

“No. They did what they did for their own reasons. I tried to keep my part of the bargain by not being a problem child. It was a business relationship.”

Ben sat in silence for a moment, then leaned forward to say, “I know there’s payment to cover some of the care, but a business arrangement? There are people who take in foster children because they want to help. There are. I know there are.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re right and sometimes the chemistry perks, but it wasn’t like that for me. They weren’t cruel, they didn’t mistreat me, but I wasn’t any more interested in getting close to them than they were in getting close to me.”

“Because your mother abandoned you? When you were five, you said? And that first foster family practically did the same two years later?”

“This is ridiculous. I’m used to being on my own. Maybe it will change someday, but I’m better alone. I always have been.” She heard the careless stupidity of the words as she spoke them. She searched Ben’s face. Did he think she was talking about the two of them? Their arrangement?

The waitress placed the check on the table beside Ben’s plate. Juli was glad of the distraction. He scanned the numbers, and then slipped some bills from his wallet. He left the money lying there on the tablecloth.

Juli stared at the cash. Someone could snatch it as soon as they turned their backs to leave—before the waitress could return for it. Ben should at least put the small stack under the edge of a plate. She waited and watched him. He showed no concern.

She decided to copy his attitude. Juli folded her napkin and laid it on the table next to her plate. Ben stood behind her to pull out her chair, an unexpected act, but it was her own response that surprised her. She felt special, warm and tingly, and the smile that grew in her heart appeared on her face. Ben took her hand as she rose. The other diners smiled at them and admiring eyes watched them as they passed by on their way to the exit. Everyone loves lovers, right? Juli enjoyed it, grateful no one knew the truth.

Ben led her out of the restaurant and down the sidewalk. The traffic was still light because it was barely May, but it wouldn’t be long before tourism was in full swing. They jay-walked across the road. Ben moved ahead and she followed along, grabbing peeks through plate glass display windows until they stopped at the Front Street Gallery. She recognized the name from Ben’s card.

The gallery building was the first in a long row of shops and restaurants, situated between the block of shops and a house that was probably no longer a residence. It was set further back from the road than the other businesses and not attached to the row. It gave it distinction, sort of set it apart from the rest.

Narrow concrete steps with a painted iron railing let up to a large wooden door, also painted black and with a large plate glass window insert. Through the display windows, colors of every hue caught the attention of passersby with the message of
come in and see more
.

She’d never been in a real art gallery. Never went in because she knew she’d be spotted as someone who didn’t belong.

“Have you ever been in here?”

“No, I enjoyed art, but never did anything about it.”

The walls were hung with paintings and prints, some in groupings, some spaced politely along the walls. There were several tables holding crafty knick-knacks and small artwork, all looked locally made.

Maia rushed over. “Good morning, Ben. Welcome, Juli. Can I show you around?” She moved between them and took their arms, but she addressed Juli. “We are very much a local gallery and we make it a point to support and represent local artists and craftsmen. We have colorful, crafty items for tourists who are looking for souvenirs and fine art for those who want to take a reminder of the coast with them to hang on their walls. A lot of our customers are locals who want to bring the color of the beach life they love into their homes.”

Ben said, “Bring the beach inside—that’s what I’d like to do. Our house is plain. I never noticed before, but it needs color. Juli, I’d like you to choose some items.”

“You mean buy a painting?”

“Yes, and whatever else you like.”

She’d always lived for the day because today had been as much as she could manage. Choosing artwork to decorate Ben’s house seemed frivolous. His house looked great as it was.

“I have to think about this.”

“Take your time and look around.” He faced Maia. “Is Luke in?”

“He’s in the office.”

Ben touched her arm. “I’ll be back shortly.”

He left her standing there. Juli watched him walk to the back of the shop and knock on the closed door with only a pause before entering. To speak with Luke.

****

Luke had entered the gallery by the back door that morning—his usual entrance and exit. Maia was already at the counter out front and the sign on the door was turned to OPEN. He waved when she looked up and went directly into his office.

Sunday noon. Before he’d even left home, he’d thought about ditching the business casual and taking the boat out, but since Ben had bowed out of most of their business interests, the workload was burying him. So much for the joys of small business ownership. He pulled the invoice folder for the Charleston gallery from the inbox.

He heard a knock on the door and looked up as Ben entered.

“Busy?”

“Always. Come in anyway and have a seat.”

“Juli and I had brunch at the grill and then walked over. I wanted her to see the gallery. She’s going to pick out a few things for the house.”

Luke nodded, at a loss for words. He looked away. “She’s here?”

He lowered his voice. “I left her with Maia. I hope they’ll hit it off. From what Juli’s said, I don’t think she has many friends and no family at all. She’s always worked too hard, no time for play. It’s going to be different now.”

Different for all of us
, Luke amended, silently.

Ben touched the folder on the desk and spun it around. “Charleston? How’s it going down there?”

“Hal’s a good manager, but he doesn’t have what it takes to make bigger decisions. He had an opportunity for a nice show by a local artist, but passed on it because it would’ve meant a quick turnaround—quicker than he could handle.”

“What about Jerri? From the Dunes Gallery? She was looking for a position with more responsibility. Hal isn’t big on ego.”

Luke leaned back in his chair and it squeaked. He felt more peaceful than he had in a while, almost pretending it was old times again. “Dunes got smart and offered her more.” He glanced down. His running shoes were peeking out from under the desk like an invitation, a reminder.

“There are other prospects.”

“But it takes time and more time. I’m short on that.” The brief, easy mood evaporated. He reached up and pressed his hands against the sides of his head, then worked his fingers against his temples.
Shake it off, Luke
.

“I know I left you hanging.”

“No, you didn’t. I procrastinated.” He slid the folder back and flipped the top shut. “I’m glad Maia wasn’t interested in leaving the sales floor. No one has her skill with the customers. I couldn’t manage without her there. The rest I’ll figure out.”

“We already talked about this, but….”

Luke knew Ben wasn’t referring to their current topic, the staffing problem. He shook his head, no. He didn’t want to go there again. “Drop it.”

“I’m happy.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I mean it. I feel like I have a fresh start.”

“Look, Ben, it’s simple biology. You’re not the first guy to fall for a pretty woman who’s a few years younger. I just wish—”

“Wish what?”

“You could’ve taken her on a few dates. Gotten to know her—to know you could trust her. I get that you don’t approve of people just moving in together, but marriage can be inconvenient in a real life kind of way when the whole thing goes south.” Or if she turns out to be a thief. He hadn’t told Ben what he’d seen at the party in the coatroom. Now, while he might grouse about Ben’s actions, it was too late to lay that kind of speculation on the table. He rapped his knuckles on the desk.

Pastor Herrin should’ve talked sense to Ben, not given his blessing. But who was closer to Ben than Luke? No one. And even he had failed to convince Ben to settle for something other than marriage. Ben had moved forward so uncharacteristically fast he’d caught them all by surprise. In the end, what did you say to a dying friend, a cousin who was more like a brother, who was determined to have his way?

You showed up at the wedding and kept the peace by keeping your mouth shut.

“Come on out and speak to her.”

“I saw her yesterday at the wedding.”

Ben sat in silence.

“I
spoke
to her yesterday.” Exasperated, he threw in, “Alright, but Ben, don’t push this too far—you might be mesmerized by a pair of blue eyes and good legs, but she’s not my type. I prefer a woman who doesn’t marry a stranger for money. A little integrity and self-respect would be a good start. You married her, she’s nothing to me.” Nothing but the woman who was going to break his cousin’s heart. He froze at the hurt on Ben’s face wishing he could call back the angry words.

Ben rose and rearranged his expression into a smile. “I understand, Luke. I know you better than you know yourself and you don’t mean half of what you just said. You wait and see. I’ve always been a better judge of people than you. Am I right?”

Luke nodded. It sounded weird to say this about a guy, but Ben saw with his heart, not his head.

“For now, be kind. That’s all I ask.”

They stared at each other for a few, long seconds. Luke shrugged. He’d never had Ben’s capacity for patience. His faith. Was Ben really asking so much of him?

“Okay. Lead the way.”

Chapter Six

She couldn’t keep from sneaking a glance at the office door every few seconds. The fact of Ben and Luke sitting behind a closed door discussing who-knew-what shouldn’t concern her. She and Ben had a business arrangement. Personal issues with inconvenient relatives should make no difference.

“Juli?”

She jumped, clapping a hand to her chest. “Oh. Sorry. Guess my mind was elsewhere.”

Maia laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Take a look around and I’ll check on the customer who just came in.”

She hadn’t even heard the bell. Maia and the customer moved over to the counter. Juli strolled around checking out the pottery and the wood carvings. A four-foot-tall, carved white egret made her pause. The sleek feathering cut into the wood begged to be touched.

The bell rang again as the customer left.

“He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” Maia had returned to stand beside her. “A local artist, Paul Hemmings, carves wildlife from native woods.”

“Do you think Ben would like him?” Juli looked more closely. “There’s no price tag.”

Maia giggled and put her arm around Juli’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. Juli was surprised by the impetuous embrace.

“Girl,” Maia said, “listen to me. Ben didn’t mention any price limits, did he? Just go with what you like. Plus, he gets a nice discount.”

“Okay, I like it.”

“I’ll wrap it up.”

Ben and Luke walked out of the office together. Ben had his hands in his pockets. Luke’s arms were crossed. They were about the same height. Ben’s coloring was warmer and softer.

“What did you choose?” Ben took the wrapped egret from Maia. “I recognize this. Excellent choice, Juli. I’ve admired this piece many times. Can’t think why I didn’t get it myself a long time ago.” He leaned toward her and touched her arm.

Did he want to kiss her cheek? She thought so and she wouldn’t have minded, but didn’t encourage him. It didn’t feel natural. Instead, she returned his look with eyes she hoped were glowing. If Ben wanted Luke to see he was happy with his decision, she’d be delighted to help.

When they returned to Ben’s house, there was a car in the area beneath the house where the pilings created parking spaces. A car top carrier was still strapped to the roof, but items were sitting on the asphalt behind the car as if awaiting their turn to make the trip up the side stairs.

“The neighbors are here.” Ben checked his watch. “They’re a couple of hours early.”

“The neighbors?”

“I meant the renters. Our neighbors for the week.”

“They’re early?” She’d found Ben’s remark odd. Did he care about their arrival time?

“Check-in with the rental management company is usually four p.m., that’s all I meant.”

Juli had lived most of her life in apartments. Privacy and quiet were nice, but a little noise wouldn’t bother her. In fact, neighbors might even be a handy distraction, something to talk about while she and Ben got their relationship sorted out.

Ben’s footsteps dragged as they climbed the stairs up to the door. Juli carried the egret.

He napped. Ben tired easily, but otherwise he seemed good. Juli had trouble reconciling what he’d told her about his condition with how well he looked. She pulled the wrappings from the egret and placed the tall, carved bird beside the fireplace. Not satisfied, she tried it next to the front windows. She couldn’t decide so she left the egret near the table where Ben had started a jigsaw puzzle.

She picked up the box lid and examined the picture. He’d chosen a puzzle of ocean and sand. The only focal point was a tiny buoy almost lost in the water. No wonder most of it was still undone.

The sofa was white rattan and the cushions were covered in a beachy, turquoise pattern, but with a couple of pillows properly arranged, it was comfy. Juli tucked her legs up beneath her and fidgeted with the pillows again. She tried to read, but the words failed to keep her attention. After several pages, she gave up. Second day of marriage. It would take time to settle in. To feel at home.

By the time she felt at home, it would be over and she’d be gone. In the meantime, what would she do?

Bored people found distractions to amuse themselves and often made bad choices, wealthy or poor. One look at the magazines on the rack at the grocery store could tell you that.

Many times, stuck at the cash register during a lull, Juli had imagined what she could do with the free time, if she had extra money. Boredom, and the ability to do something with it, had seemed like a luxury.

She laid her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. What had she dreamed of while waiting for customers? Hobbies? And something else—a GED.

It looked like she was going to have lots of free time now, for a while, anyway. It was up to her figure out how to fill it and stay out of trouble.

****

“I’d like to take a walk on the beach if you’ll come along,” she told Ben after they returned from supper at a local restaurant.

“Sure, let’s walk into the sunset.”

Emerald Isle lay east to west versus the usual eastern coastline that ran north-south.

A woman who looked like excellent grandma material was seated in a rocker on the renter’s side of the porch. She had pouffy, graying hair and was swathed in yards of pink terrycloth.

They removed their sandals at the end of the crossover. “Can we leave our shoes here? I mean, other people use this walkway. Will the shoes be safe?”

“It’s fine. Only the renters will be using our crosswalk.” Ben continued, “The renters will assume we’re also renters if you don’t say otherwise. Not trying to hide anything—or I am, but if the toilet stops up or a light bulb needs changing they are less willing to leave a voicemail with the management company if they know they can knock on the owner’s door. Don’t put personal touches on the porch. Looks too permanent. Gives us away.”

They struggled through the thick drifts of dry sand pushed up around the base of the steep stairs. When they reached firmer sand, she hooked her arm in his. He looked pleased.

“I thought you owned only the half you live in. You own both sides?”

“I used to rent out both sides and stayed here only a few weeks during the year. I moved here permanently last year. For most of the business interests I have, I’ve either sold or stepped out of active management.”

“Businesses? Like what?”

A child ran along the edge of the water, dodging the reach of the waves. A woman with a white furry dog passed them, the dog straining the leash and setting the pace.

“Like the gallery. I was hands-on until recently. It has always been my favorite, my first love, business-wise. I turned my interest over to Luke. Over the years, we’ve partnered in a number of efforts.”

The breeze blowing onshore gentled as the sun sank lower. The salt and seawater blended with the air and smelled of something elemental, perhaps of life itself. It touched a core within her. It steadied her.

“You two were, are, very close. I guess you’ve noticed he’s not thrilled about me.”

“Not you. It’s me he’s worried about. He’s having trouble letting go.”

“Letting you live your own life?”

“No, I mean accepting I’m leaving his—that I’m dying.”

Her stomach clenched. The steadiness she’d felt now seemed suspect. “You seem so well. Tired some, but who doesn’t get tired?”

“I have to deal in reality, Juli. You and I are enjoying each other’s company—I am and I hope it’s true for you—but we met nine days ago. You aren’t emotionally invested. We don’t have history. Remember you asked why I didn’t have a friend move in for companionship and I said it would be cruel? Well, that’s what I meant.” He paused a few seconds before adding, “I’m not afraid of death. I know where I’m going when I die.”

Reality. It wanted to hang over her head like a smog-filled cloud and she detested the awkwardness of the topic.

She ran a few steps ahead of him, then spun around to look him in the face. “In this world, none of us have more than the moment we’re in. You’re here. I’m here. Tomorrow can take care of itself.”

He held out his hand. “Juli, come stand here beside me, please? I want you to see this.”

She returned to stand beside him. He pointed ahead, to the west. “Look.”

He touched her hand lightly and she clasped his in return. The sunset had been growing as they strolled up the beach and was now aflame, burning high as if the houses lining the western end of the beach had ignited. Dark wisps of clouds, like smoke, streamed up in the midst of the conflagration, and a high whitish-yellow glow backlit all of it. It looked like onrushing Armageddon.

She moved closer to him. Her cheek touched his shoulder and, after a brief hesitation, he put his arm around her back. When the sunset lost its strong color, they strolled back along the beach in the growing dark.

As they crossed the rough walkway back over the dunes, Ben said, “Luke asked us to join him for dinner later this week or next.”

Sharing dinner with Luke wasn’t likely to aid good digestion.

Juli looked up at the clouds and back down at the few scattered shells on the crossover. She kicked at them with her toe, wishing she could kick this decision somewhere down the road.

“Juli?”

“Fine. If you’d like to go, we will.”

She reached out and took his hand back into her own. No one could ever say she didn’t keep her side of a bargain.