Chapter 10
TEN
The Lincoln Town Car pulled in to the drive at Faith’s cottage.
“Thank you,” she said, getting out. The driver nodded, and she shut the door.
Jake had been pleasant when they’d said their goodbyes, but he’d stood at a distance, a different emotion behind his smile.
She kept coming back to the Tides and his plans for development.
“So?” she heard before she’d even gotten through the door. Casey was sitting in the breakfast nook, her laptop open beside her. “How was it? What was the Mercedes all about? Where did you go?”
“Um…” Where should she start? The whole night and all the emotions it had stirred within her were swirling around in her head.
“You okay?” Casey had gone from excited to concerned in a split second.
“Yes,” she said, taking a breath in an attempt to clear her head. “It was good.”
“Just good?”
It wasn’t just good. It was fantastic. Her date with Jake was probably the best first date she’d ever had—even with the disagreement—and she wanted to see him again.
She wanted to have his eyes on her like they had been tonight; she wanted to see his smile directed at her.
Tonight, she felt something new and interesting—that flutter.
She couldn’t deny the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d responded to her.
That’s what had made that moment when he said they should remain friends so difficult to swallow.
Maybe he was right, though. As much as she liked him, and as much as they seemed to fit together at times, the gray cloud lingering over them was their fundamental difference in what they wanted.
He wanted to make money, even if it was at the expense of the North Carolina shore and all its serenity—the only place she felt truly at ease.
She wanted a quiet place to bring her family, where everyone could have a good time and make memories.
“What about the car? You have to tell me about the car.”
“It’s his,” she said, still trying to make sense of it. “And the sailboat’s his too.”
“What? It is?”
“He’s…” Her mind was elsewhere, but she didn’t want to be rude so she pushed the thoughts away and sat down next to her sister. “He’s very wealthy.”
“What?” she said again. “How?”
“He’s a land developer, but he does handyman work for fun.”
“This just gets more interesting by the minute!” Casey said, looking full of excitement.
Her eyes were glittery, a big smile on her face.
Faith felt her dinner sour in her stomach as she looked at Casey’s face.
This was still a game to her. Faith didn’t see it the same way after being with him all night.
He’d been vulnerable, honest, and they’d left questions she still wanted to work through.
Suddenly, Faith didn’t want Casey anywhere near Jake.
“Why do you have your laptop out?” Faith asked, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. She was tired from the sun and the wine, and attempting to figure Jake out.
Casey’s face dropped from excited to somber in a flash. She looked sad, anxious, her brows had pulled together, a deep crease forming between them, her bottom lip trembling just a little before she chewed on the inside of it—probably to keep it steady.
“I got an email from Scott. An informal list of what he wants to keep of ours, and what he thinks I should have. He wants me to check it over before he sends it to his lawyer.”
Casey didn’t handle tough circumstances well.
Things always came easily for her, so when she was faced with something as hard as this, she would want to push it away, ignore the reality of it.
When it came to the hard things in life, she struggled, and that’s where Faith had the upper hand.
Faith had had enough things not go her way in life that she’d figured out how to deal with the situation.
Seeing Casey’s face told her that her sister needed her right now.
Even though Faith was younger, whenever Casey had a tough time growing up—a boyfriend issue or drama between her and her girlfriends—she’d always find Faith.
It was Faith who would comfort Casey, although Casey would only fret about it for a minute or two before sobering up and moving on to more upbeat conversation.
When her high school boyfriend broke up with her, Casey had come crying to Faith, lying on her bed, her face in a pillow.
Faith had reassured her, telling her that there were other fish in the sea, and she shouldn’t worry too much, even though she knew how much it probably hurt.
Casey sat up, sniffled a little more, and then went into the bathroom and got her hot pink nail polish.
She’d decided that Faith needed a make over.
Faith knew she didn’t really need one, but it was Casey’s way of dealing with it, and getting over it.
She’d let Casey paint her nails, do her makeup, and style her hair that day, and they’d gone shopping together that afternoon.
Casey never said another word, or—as far as she knew—shed another tear over that boy, but she knew it had hit her sister harder than she was letting on.
What worried Faith now was that Casey was struggling. She had Isabella to think about, her work, which was quite demanding, and now the divorce. She’d be looking for a distraction for sure. She hoped Casey wouldn’t try and make Jake her distraction.
“I’m surprised that Jake hasn’t been by to paint that built-in,” Nan said as they all sat at the table.
“It’s only nine o’clock, Mom,” Faith’s mother said, pouring more coffee into Faith’s cup.
Faith held up a hand to stop her from pouring any more, even though she was exhausted and could do with the jolt of caffeine. She hadn’t slept very well last night.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said.
Faith worried. Jake had shown up early every day since they’d arrived, but he wasn’t there this morning when they’d all gotten up.
Was he avoiding her? As the night had turned to dawn, she started to wonder if she’d misread the signs because of the wine.
Had he really not been looking at her like she’d thought?
What did he really think about her admission that his project to develop Corolla was an awful idea?
Had she offended him? And what did he mean by saying he’s been down that road before?
That still didn’t set well with her. With her mug cradled in both hands, she sat quietly, still pondering it all.
If he did stop by, she’d better get up and make herself presentable.
She’d only dusted her face with a little powder and brushed her hair.
She had no makeup to speak of, and she was wearing an old T-shirt and shorts.
Next to Isabella, Casey sat. There was no sign of the Casey she’d seen last night.
Today, she had a brave face on. She was wearing wedge sandals, another of her sundresses—little spaghetti straps showing off her new tan—dangly earrings, her hair curled, lip gloss.
Why? What made Casey wake up every morning and do all that to herself?
It just wasn’t Faith at all. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about her looks.
She just didn’t feel the need to spend that much time on it.
And, when she really got honest with herself, she didn’t even know if she could make herself up the right way.
What she’d accomplished getting ready last night had been the extent of her expertise in the area of beauty.
“What do you want to do for your birthday, Nan? Do you want a little party? Cake?” Casey asked.
“Yes! Cake!” Isabella said, nodding vigorously. “I like yellow cake with birthday balloons.”
“I want this,” Nan said, looking around the table. “And I suppose we should have cake.”
Isabella wriggled in her chair, clapping her hands with excitement.
“We want to do something special for you, Mom,” Faith’s mother said, sitting down beside her. “It would make us feel like we were paying you back for this wonderful vacation.”
“If you really want to know, I’d like you to put that box of photos into photo albums so you each can have one or two to remember all the great times we’ve had as a family. I gave them all to Faith because I figured she’d go through with organizing them, but I’d love it if you all could have them.”
Nan was right. Faith had already thought about organizing that box, but she’d been so preoccupied with the goings-on of their vacation that she’d let it slip her mind.
“I’d be happy to do that for you, Nan,” Faith said.
“Thank you, Faith. I can always count on you. Maybe you girls could sort through them one of these nights when you’re not running the streets,” she winked at Faith. Nan was only kidding, but her words made Faith think of Jake.
“Can we go to the beach, Mommy?” Isabella asked. “I want to make a sandcastle.”
“Sure we can,” Casey said. “I’ll walk you down there in a little bit. Did you know, Faith makes amazing castles?”
Faith used to spend hours making sandcastles when she was little.
They’d get up at the crack of dawn and go down to the beach.
Faith would fill her bucket with water, the chilly morning surf causing goose bumps on her legs.
She’d sit on the beach with her shovels and buckets packing sand into them, adding a little water to make it all stick together, and carefully building on to the tops until she’d made a fortress.
Casey would plop down next to her, fill one bucket, and then lose interest when she turned it over and half the sand slid down the mound like a mini avalanche.
For Faith, it was an act of endurance, of perseverance to make the best castle she could.
It didn’t bother Faith that it took a long time, or that the tide would eventually wash it away.
She worked at it to see the finished product. She was proud of it when it was done.
“I’d be happy to make one with you, Isabella,” Faith said. “I can show you how to make a moat around it and everything.”