Beach Winds (25 page)
Authors: Grace Greene
She tried to respond lightly.
“Maia’s brother?”
Juli raised her eyebrows.
“Ah, has he offended you? You have that look and you wouldn’t be the first. He has a rough manner, but it covers a very tender heart.”
“
A tender heart? I wouldn’t know about that.” She pressed her lips closed again.
“
What about your friend, Joel? What a nice man he is. I enjoyed meeting him and so did Luke. In fact, Luke and Joel are talking about possible plans for a new gallery.”
“
Really? Yes, Joel is nice. I’ve known him for many years. You know, the morning is speeding by. I’m enjoying this, but you really should get out there and enjoy the day.” She stood, picking up her book and purse. “I enjoyed having company for brunch. Please stop by sometime if you’re in the area. You know where
Captain’s Walk
is?”
Still seated, Juli said,
“I do. You have a fun day. Take this gorgeous day as a gift and use it well.”
Use it well? Have fun? It was a stunner to realize she wasn
’t sure she knew how to have outright, undisguised, unabashed fun.
He saw them immediately.
From across the room and with her back to him, he could see they were deep in conversation. He wanted quiet and a little peace in which to enjoy breakfast. He wasn’t in the mood for arguing, not after fighting with Diane this morning, but Juli saw him and waved. He stopped. He couldn’t duck back out the door, not now.
When J
uli waved, Frannie turned to look. She turned her back again so abruptly she almost did a vanishing act, like the kind a two-year-old does when they cover their eyes and think on one can see them.
He walked over.
“Breakfast?”
Frannie
stared down at the table. He saw the red flush creeping up her throat and up the side of her face. Juli was looking back and forth between them. He couldn’t read Juli’s expression and suddenly he was concerned. Was something wrong with Fran?
He touched her arm thinking he might need to catch her if she toppled over.
“Are you okay?”
Juli
’s wide-eyed expression confused him further.
He secured his grip on Fran
’s arm and asked Juli, “Is she sick?”
“
I’m fine.” Frannie tugged at the neck of her blouse. “It’s hot in here. Hot like the Sahara.”
Juli said,
“Yes, it’s quite warm in here.” She smiled.
“
Sorry I interrupted you ladies. I’ll get out of the way.”
Frannie suddenly turned, her face flushed and her dark eyes all glittery
, and said, “You’re not interrupting. I was leaving.” She clutched her bag and book and pushed past him. She dropped her tab and the money on the cashier’s counter and kept moving.
He watched her move like something with big sharp teeth was after her. As she exited, he could see her rushing toward her car.
He looked at Juli. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
Juli
’s hand was now over the lower part of her face. She seemed to be struggling with something.
“
Are you laughing?”
She moved her hands up to her forehead and looked down at the table
. He couldn’t see her eyes.
“
No, Brian. Frannie’s fine. You surprised us.” Finally, she did look up. “Is she angry with you?”
“
Angry at me?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows what’s going on in her head?”
“
Well, then.” She picked up her bag. “I wouldn’t worry about it. In fact, it probably wasn’t you at all. She had a rough night.”
Before she could
get to her feet, he sat, so she settled back into her seat.
“
What do you mean, a rough night?”
“
Well, it’s a weird thing and maybe you’ve heard of something like this happening.”
“
What?”
“
About two in the morning, she heard a loud noise. Something hit the house. It alarmed her and she had trouble sleeping, but when it got light outside, she opened the door and a seagull was on the porch. A dead one. Seems he crashed into the house during the night. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
He considered the question.
“No, can’t say I have. In daylight, birds will fly into windows not realizing the glass is there. But at night? At night, as far as I know, gulls roost.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand you women.”
“
What? Why? You sound disgusted.”
“
You’re worrying over a dead seagull, but a woman alone in a house in the middle of the night hears a bang against her wall, can’t see what caused it, and instead of calling for help she sits up all night?”
“
I didn’t say she sat up all night.”
“
You didn’t say she called 9-1-1.”
“
I see your point, but things often seem different at night, in the dark. We don’t like to bother someone and end up looking hysterical. That’s what you guys call it. According to you guys, we either over-react or don’t react as you think we should. There’s no pleasing men.”
She softened her words with a slight smile.
“I have a date with a beach and a sketchbook.” She patted his hand. “Say hello to Maia when you see her. And Frannie, too.”
There was something about
her eyes that reminded him of Fran. The hair, too. Highlighted by the strong light from the window, Juli’s fine, brown hair seemed almost translucent around her face. Both were good-looking women, but he wished he could give Fran some of Juli’s strength and confidence. He remembered what he knew of Juli’s background. Her composure and dignity were hard-won, but once she’d found it, her whole world changed. He’d hardly known her back then, but Maia was always willing to chat in the name of helping someone. Maia was a fixer, a rescuer. And a gossip, too. Well-intended or not.
“
Why don’t I clear these dishes from the table? Did you want to order?”
The waitress startled him. He shook off his thoughts.
“Sure. Coffee. Black. Two eggs scrambled, bacon and toast.”
“
Can do.” She carried the used plates and utensils away to the kitchen.
Maia was a fixer. Juli was down-to-earth, a kind person, loyal and a fighter when needed. Diane? Diane had never fit any of those labels. Diane was all energy and fun, until she wasn
’t, and when she wasn’t, she was self-centered and cruel.
Suddenly, he felt surrounded by women. When had his life gotten this
way?
Fran. What about her? He didn
’t like calling her ‘Frannie’. It seemed to diminish her even more than she already was. A hider. An avoider. Yet, every so often the real gal would peek out and she was fascinating in some way he couldn’t define. He’d thought she was trouble before, but now he knew better. Fran didn’t fit in her own skin because she hadn’t figured out who she was. She kept getting lost, overthinking everything. Like he was doing right now.
He didn
’t hide like Fran tried to do. Sometimes he wished he could.
One thing he could say for her was that she knew how to laugh at herself, in a good way, when she was being herself and not worrying about everything and everyone else and what they might think of her.
Too bad she was so mixed up. It made her high-maintenance. He had enough of his own troubles. Yet he kept going back, finding himself caught up in her life.
T
hen he felt guilty. Fran was talking about making the house wheelchair accessible. She’d gotten off the ‘get it ready for sale’ path, and that’s what he’d wanted. He groaned. She’d make a big mess of it if left to investigate it on her own. She might call any fly-by-night contractor. Probably wouldn’t even think to ask for references or bonding or insurance. She hadn’t asked him for any of that when she’d haired him to paint, had she?
She needed his help and so did Will.
She was horrified
—horrifically embarrassed—by the thoughtless timing of fate.
She
’d barely extricated herself from the ‘Brian’ topic only to have him walk into Mike’s. That curious look on Juli’s face suddenly changed to welcoming. Juli had waved and there he was. And she, Frannie, had flushed like a ripe tomato, soft and red and ready to drop from the vine. She knew because her face had been on fire.
He
’d touched her. If it had only been him and her, like in the car, she could’ve managed the encounter, might even have enjoyed seeing him depending upon his mood, but with an audience it was a different story. Like when he’d scolded Maia in front of her.
Except this time he hadn
’t done anything wrong. Juli shouldn’t have sown those seeds in her brain, but it wasn’t Juli’s fault that she, Frannie, overreacted.
She parked and
walked around the side of the house and up onto the front porch. She dropped her book and purse on the porch, left her shoes with the trouser socks neatly tucked inside next to them. Brian was probably right—those socks had no place on the oceanfront. She walked barefoot through the small hills of dry sand and onto the damp sand where the waves rolled up and back. The dry sand had been warm, but the wet sand was cool. She cuffed the bottoms of her slacks, folding them neatly up her legs to her knees, as Brian had done. The wet sand was cold and the water was colder as it rushed up over her toes, but the sun was warm and if a person needed a place to hide from life, this was a pretty good option.
Still, it was
a wintry beach and she’d never been much of a beach person, but she felt drawn to the water, soothed by the rhythm of the waves. She stood in place as the sand washed away from beneath her feet.
Her heels and toes sank. Each time, the waves brought more sand, but also reclaimed it. It was like a game. Nature was toying with this petty human. Or maybe it was a challenge, a standoff because she refused to move. More sand vanished from beneath her feet as other sand was deposited on top. Her feet were buried and the rolled up ends of her pants were wet and clammy.
Like a season in the midst of change, she was cold below, rather, her feet were cold, but her body, the farther it was from the water, was warmer. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, the salty sea smell blended with other fragrances she couldn’t identify. Like her favorite teas. Blends that supported and enhanced each other. Relaxed, she felt almost disembodied. No stress, no decisions, only the rise and fall of the water above and around her numb, buried feet.
The next wave hit her knee-high. She looked down realizing she
was in trouble. She tried to step back, but her feet weren’t just buried, they were stuck, suctioned into place.
Calm down
. It was ridiculous to panic so close to houses and people.
She eased one foot free and, thus encouraged, tried to step backward again.
She saw the wave, a big one, racing toward her and tried to brace herself, but it hit her mid-thigh. She fell backward. A large rush of salty, sandy water slapped her face as her fingers grabbed at the sand.
Hands lifted her. Strong hands held her above the incoming waves while she steadied herself. They helped her maneuver backward, up the slope toward the dryer sand where she sat down abruptly.
“Joel.”
He dropped down beside her.
“Frannie. Hi. Going swimming?”
She smirked.
“Funny.”
She was soaked in water straight from a winter ocean. The breeze intensified the chill.
“I’m cold,” she said.
“
You’re lucky. You don’t know how cold the ocean can get. The Gulf Stream favors Emerald Isle.”
“
You got wet, too. I’m sorry.”
He stood and offered his hand.
“Let’s get inside and dry off.”
He lifted her to her feet and she turned toward the house. Maia and Luke stood at the end of the crossover staring at them.
She wanted to spit the sand from her mouth, but not with an audience.
“
What’s…?” She coughed. “What’s going on, Joel?”
“
Don’t get angry with me. How was I to know you were taking a swim? We’re going out for lunch and thought you might enjoy going with us.”
Joel. Again, trying every way he could to get into her life.
“Thanks, but y’all go ahead without me.”
They reached the stairs and she climbed gingerly, her bare feet were thawing and soft from the water. Every splinter bit in
to the flesh.
“
Frannie,” Maia said, “You’re soaked. Don’t you know to stay out of the water this time of year, unless you’re wearing a wet suit?”