Chapter Sixteen
Brandee
I hug Jena one more time.
“Okay, that’s enough. It’s a seven-and-a-half-hour drive, and that’s only if this one doesn’t make me stop for the bathroom and snacks every thirty minutes,” Erin says, pointing a thumb in Jena’s direction.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s like being on a road trip with my husband. All she cares about is beating the GPS’s estimated arrival time.”
“Damn straight. So, no beverages for you until we hit the North Carolina–Tennessee line. Now, get in,” Erin commands.
I stand on the sidewalk and wave until they turn out of sight. Snowflake strolls up beside me and lets out a long, forlorn meow. I bend and give her a scratch behind the ear.
“Yeah, I’m gonna miss them too,” I mutter. “Come on. You want a snack? Snacks always make a girl feel better.”
I lead her inside, and as soon as I unscrew the top of the canister holding treats, Felix graces us with his presence.
“Where have you been?” I ask the ornery feline before dropping the chicken-flavored nugget to the floor.
He ignores me, taking his treat and sauntering back in the direction from where he came.
The house is quiet—too quiet. I grab my jacket and phone before heading out for a walk.
The air is cool and smells fresh, like the mountains after a long rain.
My sneakers scuff against the sidewalk in a steady rhythm as I turn down a side street that leads across the island toward the ocean.
I pass shuttered vacation homes and porches decorated with pumpkins, all bathed in early sunlight.
Steam curls from mugs held by early risers who are likely enjoying a hot cup of coffee before heading to church. They all wave as I make my way past.
As I walk away from the Intracoastal Waterway, the calm water glimmers in the morning light like glass.
I head toward the beach with my hands tucked deep in my pockets, allowing my thoughts to drift—work, people, regrets, hopes—interwoven threads that circle back on themselves, but never fully connect into something complete.
I feel a sense of unease, as if I am standing at a crossroads.
The wind picks up as the shore comes into view, brushing my hair into my face and nipping gently at my cheeks. The vast silver-blue ocean opens up before me as I walk along the well-trodden path between the dunes.
I take a deep breath and plop down onto the soft sand. The beach is mine to enjoy, except for a pretty blonde seated on a towel with an easel in front of her. She seems lost in her own world, and I feel like an intruder as I watch her brush glide across the canvas.
Heaven , I think to myself. This place is a little slice of heaven.
I spent the entire morning by the water, lost in thought. I stayed until the afternoon sun was high and my fellow beach dweller completed her oceanscape and packed up her supplies.
My phone chimes as I make my way back to the cottage. I dig it out of my pocket and see that I have a text from Sexy Bartender. I smile to myself as I open the message.
Sexy Bartender: I hope the rest of your weekend was fun.
Me: It was much tamer than Friday night.
Sexy Bartender: Nothing wrong with tame.
Me: How about you? Did you have to drive any more shameless, wanton, drunk barflies home?
Damn it. Why did I type that? I try to Unsend it, but it’s too late. The message shows as Read before I can take it back.
Sexy Bartender: Nope. Unless old George counts as a wanton barfly.
I laugh to myself.
Me: Are you working tonight?
Sexy Bartender: Yeah, it’s Cody’s last night, my manager is out, and we’re short a bartender, so unfortunately, I have to work the bar again. Actually, I’ll be working all week.
Me: You must be exhausted.
Sexy Bartender: I can handle it. What are you and the girls getting into?
Me: They left this morning, so I’m on my own.
Sexy Bartender: I’ll probably sleep in tomorrow, but if you’re free on Tuesday, I’d love to take you to lunch.
Me: I have a ticket to tour Bald Head Island, but I could swing by and see you after the ferry drops me off at two. I could bring a late lunch?
Sexy Bartender: I’ll be at the garage by then. But you’re welcome to drop by to say hi. It’s the Axles & Anchors shop on East Beach Ave.
Me: Okay. See you Tuesday.
I place my phone back into my pocket as Aunt Ida’s house comes into view. Just then, I hear Sabel’s voice and look up to see her crossing the street.
“Hi, Brandee! I was just about to meet Avie and Amiya for Sunday brunch. Would you like to join us?”
I glance at her pale blue skirt and blazer before looking down at my leggings. “I’m not really dressed for it,” I reply.
She waves me off. “You look fine! I’m still in my church clothes, and I was just about to go inside and change into something comfortable myself.”
“In that case, I’d love to come. I’m starving,” I admit.
Her smile widens. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
I hurry inside and check that the cats’ bowls are full, and then I pull off my jacket and change from my sweatshirt to an oversized sweater and run a brush through my hair. When I make it back to the porch, Sabel and Avie are in Sabel’s car, waiting at the curb.
“Hi! I’m so glad you can join us,” Avie says as I hop into the back seat.
“Me too. Where’s Leia?” I ask.
“Sebby and Sebastian took her fishing.”
I chuckle. “She’s going to be a well-rounded little girl—ballet and tutus on Saturdays, and fishing and overalls on Sundays.”
Avie nods. “It’s definitely an interesting childhood.”
That’s the best kind.