Beach Winds (24 page)

She nodded.
“I have questions I must ask him.” She tapped the steering wheel. “And I was thinking about changes that might be needed at the house if he’s able to come home.”

“
What?”

“
Well, this might be getting too far ahead, but if he’s improving, then he can afford live-in help. An LPA or someone like that who can handle the lifting part. But wheelchairs need more space. Like wider doorways.”

“
You
have
been thinking about this.” He stared at her. “Does this mean you’re backing off of the idea of selling
Captain’s Walk
?”

“
No, not necessarily. All along I’ve tried to do only those things that worked for both keeping or selling.”

“
You talked about selling it like it was the plan.”

“
Did I? I think all possibilities should be considered, especially when one is responsible for someone else’s life, rather, I mean their property.” She gripped the steering wheel lightly. “You shouldn’t have spoken to Maia like that.”

He looked surprised.
“Maybe. But I meant what I said.”

“
That’s not the point.” Steady, girl. “What you have to say to each other is between you, but you shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, in that humiliating way, in front of me.”

“
You’re right.”

She nodded.
“Yes, I am. Maybe we can talk about things we, rather I, can do to make the house more accessible for Uncle Will. Just talk for now.”

“
Sure. We can do that. I’d better get on inside.”

Then he was gone. The bag was back on the seat as if the exchange with Brian had only been an inconsequential blip on her day. Maybe it was nothing more than the adrenalin
e surge, but the sky looked bluer and her mood was brighter.

****

She was dreaming again of the soft crying in the night. Half awake, her arms hugging a pillow, she heard the wind wrapping around the house. It was as if the house itself was sighing and it must’ve fit into her dream. She peeked at the clock. Two a.m. She flipped the pillow to the cool side, closed her eyes and prepared to drift back into sleep when a thud came from the front of the house. Even over the whine of the wind, and the ocean hitting the shore, something had hit, maybe kicked, the house. Hard.

Bolt upright, her heart pounding, she threw the covers aside. She grabbed her cell phone
and raced to the front door, her fingers ready to punch in 9-1-1 if anyone or anything scary was in sight.

The house was quiet
aside from the natural outdoor sounds. She peered around the blinds at each window. Nothing seemed to be out of place. She hadn’t imagined that thud. She’d been awake when it happened.

She checked the side door and
the sliding door. Everything seemed secure, but by now her nerves were on edge and each wind gust or house creak felt like a threat. She sat on the sofa. She was stiff and uncomfortable, wanting to curl back up in her bed and knowing that wasn’t going to happen. She wrapped the sofa blanket around her body and tucked her feet inside.

She did doze off toward dawn, but it was that heavy sleep that
left her feeling hung over. Now that it was daylight, she could go back to bed. She would recover from the night by sleeping away the morning.

Frannie got up from the sofa. Dawn was peeking in around the closed blinds and she stopped to push them aside and look out
. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of place. Normal. She opened the sliding door.

It lay on the porch beside the door.
She wanted to slam the door shut, but she couldn’t leave it there. Nausea hit her and she pushed the door closed anyway. Through the glass, from this angle, she could see only a few white feathers, tinged with red, scattered on the wood.

It
must have hit the house during the windstorm.

She put one hand over her
stomach and the other over her mouth. She had to calm the churning. A dead sea bird, lying battered on her porch, was distressing, but the roaring in her ears and the curdling in her stomach tied into memories and were far more distressing as it rebounded upon itself, growing.

She closed her eyes and focused on regulating her breathing. This was a gull who
’d been blown by a super gust of wind. This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like when she’d lived on her own and things had happened and she’d felt so helpless to stop it or fix it.

She slid down to the floor and hugged her knees, hiding her face against them.

Breathe. Breathe.

Finally, she stood and made it to the kitchen. She pulled out the canister of tea. The plastic lid liner was a tight fit and she worked it off with careful deliberation
and then put her face directly over the open tin, inhaling slowly, deeply. Citrus. The fragrance pulled her out of herself. Like a meditation. Or medication.

Meditation medication
. She felt a little smile inside and knew she was recovering.

She put the water on to heat and
measured the tea into the steeper.

She turned the TV on and found a rerun, amusing and inconsequential
. By then her tea was ready and she settled at the table to enjoy tea and toast.

Her hair was wild from the crazy night she
’d spent. She ran her fingers through it and decided to take care of the business on the porch before heading to the shower. She found an ad circular. It would serve the purpose.

She opened the door gingerly while holding the paper like a shovel.

The bird was gone.

Had
some creature run off with it? A dog with a prize? Some animal’s breakfast?

What was that called? The food chain? Law of nature?

The law of survival?

If not for the few, small red spots on the porch, already fading, she could almost pretend nothing had been there.

She stood on the porch, hugging her arms. It was early and chilly. No one up one way, or down the other. She was alone. Not even a dog was in sight.

****

After a pounding hot shower to clear her head, she invited herself out to breakfast. She put on a favorite blouse and her navy slacks. She grabbed a book from Will’s shelf because the best companion was often found inside the covers of a book.

Mike
’s Restaurant was open. She’d seen it from the road, but it was the first time she’d stopped here. The breakfast crowd was thinning out and she had her choice of seating. She claimed a table near the windows wanting to feel the sun on her face.

She placed her order and opened the book, then closed it again to examine the book jacket. Wrong jacket. She
’d thought she was about to read a murder mystery. This was about naval weaponry. Not her taste.

She
closed the book and pushed it aside, annoyed, and then Juli walked through the door.

Juli paused as she stepped inside. When she saw Frannie, she waved and came over.
“Are you here for breakfast?”

“
I am. You?”

She nodded.
“Have you eaten yet? Mind if I join you?”

In this one on one, chance meeting, Frannie
felt her shyness, her awkwardness, blooming and oozing out of her pores. “Sure. I mean, please do.”

Juli touched the book.
“I read that. It’s excellent.”

“
I was looking forward to reading it, but appearances can be misleading.”

“
What? How so?”

Frannie
slid the front of the book jacket off the book. “Uncle Will played a trick on me. Unintended, I’m sure.”

“
You’re kidding.” Juli smiled. “Those books aren’t even close cousins. You know what? Maybe he was trying to hide what he was reading.” She laughed.

“
I’ve heard of people disguising light reading as more weighty subject matter, but not the reverse.”

“
Maybe you’ll find the cover to this book on the mystery. Maybe that’s what he was actually reading.”

“
That makes sense. Even old retired sailors might be prone to silliness, I guess.”

“
I’m feeling silly right now. Or a bit giddy, maybe. I’m not used to being out without Danny.”

“
Where is he? Mother’s day out?”

“
Yep. With his grandparents.”

“
I’ll bet they’re thrilled to have him for the day. Your parents or your husband’s?”

“
Not mine. I grew up in foster homes.”

“
Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry.”

The waitress was there with her food. She sat back and waited while the waitress took Juli
’s order. After the waitress left, she resumed, “I know you told me before about the foster care, but, well, I’m sorry. Not my business at all.”

Juli shrugged.
“It’s history, long ago and far away from today. I don’t mind you asking. How would you know I wasn’t an orphan? One doesn’t necessarily go with the other. Is that right?”

“
Yes.”

“
I don’t know whether I’m an orphan in fact, but I am in reality. Since I was five.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
Don’t be. It was a lucky day for me when the family services people took me away. My mother had problems. I don’t know exactly what they were. I was too young. But I’ll never forget how I spent so much time alone. I remember being cold and hungry. I’m grateful to the foster system for what they did. It was far from perfect, but better than where I’d been.”

“
But—”

Juli smiled.
“It’s really okay to ask.”

“
What about your mother? Did she never come back? Did you ever go looking for her?”

“
No and no.” She shrugged. “I found my own way in the world, and when I was running out of options, God sent me someone to love and be loved by. I’m a very fortunate person.”

Frannie sipped at her orange juice and nibbled her toast.

“You’re deep in thought.”

“
I was thinking about something. Recently, I found out I’m adopted. I’m looking for my birth mother but I have misgivings. I’m not sure why. Listening to you, I’m wondering if I should go ahead with it or forget it.”

“
What works for one person doesn’t always work for another. If you started looking, then clearly you want to know. How does your mother feel about it?”

She drew in a sharp breath.
“She doesn’t like it, but I don’t really care.”

“
What about your father?”

“
He died when I was sixteen. He was married to my birth mother. I think he would’ve told me eventually. Difficult for him to find the right time, I suppose.”

“
You know what, Frannie? You’ll do the right thing, whatever it is. But you are the only one who can figure that out. There’s more than one path to the same destination.”

“
I’m glad you happened in at the same time I was here. So, you have a free day? What do you have planned?”

“
I’ll spend some time sketching along the shore. I’ve got my camera and paper and pencils. I love it down by the ocean.”

“
Your house over on the sound is beautiful.”

“
It is. I used to live on the oceanfront, and I love the ocean, but the sound is more peaceful and I love that, too.”

“
I understand. Some nights the wind gusts and the house shakes and creaks. It unnerves me, especially when it’s dark and I can’t see what’s going on outside. Last night, I heard a big thud. I didn’t sleep much after that, and this morning I discovered a seagull had flown into the house. Not inside, but into the wall. It was on the porch, all…well, messy.”

“
After dark?”

“
Yes. About two a.m.”

“
That’s strange. I’m not a bird expert, but it sounds unusual.”

“
How else could it have happened?”

“
Well, you do have a mystery after all.”

“
I’d rather read about someone else’s.”

“
Not an adventure lover? Yet you came to stay at your uncle’s house and take on his responsibilities while he’s unable to. I think you have a taste for excitement, but haven’t found the right adventure.”

Frannie sealed her lips. She wouldn
’t confess that she was hiding, that being here was more about her problems than helping her uncle. And yet, they were both benefitting, right?

Juli added,
“You should stick with Brian. He’s always full of adventure.”

His name on Juli
’s lips shocked her like a big electric jolt. Brian was another failure. Someone she was developing some kind of relationship with, even if it was only a friendship, who now didn’t even call. Reality was, if she hadn’t been at the rehab place, they still wouldn’t have spoken.