Chapter 12
TWELVE
“Isabella, are you ready?” Casey called out, grabbing Isabella’s sandals.
They dangled from her fingers as she slipped her handbag onto her shoulder and slid on her sunglasses.
Casey looked amazing. Her outfit was casual but a little over the top for fishing with Jake and his friend.
It was probably the most dressed down Casey could be for a fishing trip.
Faith sat next to Nan in the breakfast nook as Casey gathered things for their day out.
There was a knock at the door and Faith’s heart started rattling in her chest. Casey opened the door and Jake walked in, his eyes finding hers immediately.
His face lifted and he broke into a brilliant smile.
It made her heart beat harder. It was so silly to get flustered around him.
He wasn’t there for her though, and he’d made it pretty clear that he wasn’t going to ask her out again, so she should just get over it.
But for some reason, she couldn’t. She remembered the way he’d looked at her, how he’d smiled as she told him stories, that moment when she’d thought he was going to kiss her and what it felt like when he had.
Could that feeling be enough to overpower the niggling worry about the rest?
“Hi, Jake!” Isabella said, running into the room. “Where are we fishing today?”
“Well, my buddy couldn’t come, so it’s just me.” He squatted down to her level. “I’m going to take you to a pier down the road. Does that sound like fun?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done it,” she said earnestly.
He chuckled. “Well, I hope you will like it, but if you don’t, I’m sure your mom will bring some sand toys and a swimsuit for you and we can go swimming. The water’s really nice today.”
Faith worried about today when she knew she shouldn’t.
Casey was just so beautiful and Isabella so adorable.
How could anyone not love the two of them?
Jake would be the perfect person to make Casey feel at ease, to take her mind off of Scott.
And sitting on her chest was the nagging thought that Casey had had no problems dating Scott. What would stop her from dating Jake?
Jake greeted Faith.
“Hi,” she replied, wishing she could say more, but what could she say?
Jake had already opened the door and was heading out. He had his hand on Casey’s back in a guiding way, but their closeness worried Faith. Casey smiled at him, making small talk, but the door was closing. “Have fun!” she said as animatedly as she could.
“Okay!” Casey grabbed the door and said with a smile.
Jake waved one more time and then the door shut and they were gone.
Faith tipped her head back and took in a deep breath.
She didn’t want to think about how easily Casey would make conversation with him in the car or how Isabella would melt his heart.
She didn’t want to ponder whether Casey would delight in his development plans, and welcome his wealth.
Casey would talk to him, make him laugh, tell him little stories about herself in a way that made her life seem so interesting.
She was good at that. Faith tried not to think about it as she grabbed her handbag.
She’d decided to spend the day sorting Nan’s photos and getting them into albums. She needed something to stop her imagination from running wild and to keep her from dwelling on her thoughts.
She’d better get a move on if she wanted to spend any time on the beach this afternoon.
On her way out the door, she peeked her head in to her mom’s room. “Need anything from town?” she asked. “I’m going to get photo albums for Nan’s pictures.”
“Why don’t you pick up some party supplies,” her mom said. “That would be great.”
“Party supplies? Like matching paper plates and napkins?”
“Yes. And get some balloons and streamers too.”
Faith giggled. “She’s ninety years old, Mom. Does she want all that for her birthday?”
“Don’t we all want someone to make a fuss over us on our birthday?”
Her mom was good at making a fuss over everyone.
She had always tried hard to make the girls feel special, and birthdays were a big deal.
She hadn’t been able to lavish them with presents or anything, but she’d given them what she could, and she’d made them feel great on that day.
On Faith’s birthday, she would wake to the floor of her room filled with balloons or her door decorated, paper streamers hanging down from the doorway.
Then her mom would make a breakfast of her choice, and, waiting at her spot at the table, Faith would find a birthday card to start her day.
When she got home, there would always be something special left on her bed—a new book, a nice sweater, something.
Then, when Nan could come over, they would all share a big, fancy cake, with candles.
As she blew them out, her mom made everyone sing “Happy Birthday,” even when they’d gotten older.
They’d eat far too much until their bellies ached, then her mom would tuck her in to bed and ask her how her birthday was.
She didn’t want to know what her favorite part was or if she liked the cake.
Instead she’d simply asked, “Did you feel special today? You deserve to feel special.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll get the party supplies. Anything in particular?”
“You of all people know what Nan likes.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
Faith returned with five shopping bags dangling heavily on her arms as she slid the key into the lock and opened the door. Nan was at the kitchen table. She walked over and dropped her arms, the bags falling to the floor with a thud.
“Those got heavy by the fifth step,” Faith said, nodding toward the front door. She’d lugged them all the way up the stairs by herself.
“Remember how my house had that big staircase in front?” Nan said.
Faith did remember. Nan had an old house—white with black shutters, and windows so tall that entire trees were visible through them.
It had a wrap-around front porch, the boards thick with years of gray paint.
She’d played there a lot when she was a child, every day in the afternoons when her mother worked and on weekends when they’d all get together as a family.
The house faced west, on a hill, so it had a steep staircase going up to the front door, and on summer nights, Casey and Faith would sit on those steps and watch the sky turn orange as the sun slipped below the pines.
“John used to carry things up the steps for me because I could hardly get up them with just myself.” She paused, remembering something.
Faith waited, wishing she could read her mind.
“Those are the kinds of things I noticed once he was gone. We’d bought that house when we’d gotten married, and I’d lived in it my entire adult life.
I remember one particular night after John died when I stood at the bottom of those steps with an armful of herbs in little pots.
I was going to put them inside in my kitchen window.
They weren’t heavy, but I had quite a few of them—you know how I like rosemary,” she said, smiling.
“I remember as clear as if it were yesterday. I turned around to hand one to John because he always walked up on my left side. I don’t know why he did that, and I hadn’t realized it until that moment.
I turned, waiting to see his face, and I was alone.
He wasn’t there, of course. My life after John died is made up of a million little moments like those. ”
She ached for Nan. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her.
Faith felt a heaviness in her chest. She’d never loved anyone like that.
She wondered how it would feel to know someone so well that something as simple as walking up a staircase could be anticipated down to the very steps he took.
But these stories of her grandpa taught her that that was the sort of love she wanted to have.
Nan had talked a lot about John lately—more than she ever had. In the past, she’d mentioned him in conversation, but she’d never shared her feelings like she was now. She knew that Nan wanted to be with him, but she ached at the thought of losing her.
“What’s in all those bags?” Nan asked.
“Oh. Mom told me to get supplies for your party next week.”
“All of that is for me?”
“You know how Mom is.”
“Yes. I do. I’ll humor her.”
“I can hear y’all,” her mom said through the screen door in the living area that led to the porch.
She was sitting in one of the rocking chairs, her back to them.
“I hope you bought paper plates.” Faith couldn’t see her face, but she could tell by her mother’s tone that she wasn’t really bothered even though she was pretending to be.
“And matching cups,” Faith said, giggling. “I even got us all birthday paper cone hats. They say ‘Happy Birthday’ in primary colors,” she teased.
Her mom didn’t respond, but Faith was almost certain that if she could see her mother, she’d be smiling.
Faith reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small photo album. “I also got us a bunch of these.” She flipped the pages with her thumb like a deck of cards. “We can start sorting your photos.”
“Let’s wait until everyone’s here.”
“Whatever you want. You’re the birthday girl.” She pulled the bags filled with the albums along the floor until they rested near the box of photos. She’d barely sat down before she heard Isabella’s voice.
“We had so much fun!” Casey nearly sang just after bursting through the door ahead of Isabella. “Jake is a great guy.”