Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
J oyce served Mitch his breakfast, then went into food production mode. She had sandwiches to make, fruit to clean, cookies and bars to wrap, and then coolers to pack with an assortment of bottled water, both plain and flavored, and canned soft drinks. The drinks and food would get some ice packs, but they wouldn’t need much, as they’d go into the fridge on the boat when he arrived.
She was also preparing a tote bag with paper plates, plastic utensils, paper towels, wet wipes, and a couple of garbage bags. She knew the boat had some supplies, but it had been some years since Mitch, or anyone, had been aboard. Better to be overprepared.
There would be five people and two dogs. Harper and Lucas would undoubtedly bring whatever their pups needed. And Lucas was bringing people food as well. He’d let Joyce know she wouldn’t have to be responsible for feeding all of them.
Even so, she made eight chicken salad sandwiches on whole wheat bread with lettuce on either side of the chicken salad to keep the bread from getting soggy. She wrapped them all in wax paper, then bagged them four and four in large Ziploc bags. Into a smaller bag, she added five pickle spears.
Next, she washed three pounds of grapes, red and green mixed, both kinds seedless, and bagged those up. Into another bag went five tangerines and five small bananas. She got them at the farmer’s market especially because of their size.
Finally, she got out the baked goods she’d made the day before. Chocolate chip cookies with toffee bits and oatmeal raspberry bars. A dozen cookies went into one bag as they were, but the raspberry bars she wrapped two at a time, separated by a little slip of waxed paper. She did eight of those, then the bars also went into a bag.
She planned to add some granola bars and cheese sticks for good measure.
Mitch, who’d finished his breakfast and gone into the bedroom, came out in board shorts, a T-shirt, boat shoes, a hat, and sunglasses. White residue on his temples and the bridge of his nose showed he’d already put suncream on. He looked at the food on the counter. “You know we’re only going out for the afternoon, right?”
She cut her eyes at him. “Being on the water gives people an appetite. I won’t have anyone going hungry on my watch.”
“There’s very little chance of that,” he teased. “Thanks for doing all of this. I really appreciate it. I wish you’d come.”
“It’s kind of you to offer, but I’ve too much to do. Now, if you’d like to take myself and Beryl out when she gets here, that would be grand. My sister would get the biggest kick out of that, I can assure you.”
“We can definitely do that. Be happy to. Just tell me what day. Now, what can I carry down to the golf cart?”
“Drinks cooler is ready. I just need to pack the food into the other one. This tote bag can go, too. Did you pack yourself a towel?”
“There are towels on the boat.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes, I checked when I was there yesterday. Towels, dry goods, sunscreen—”
“Which has been sitting on that boat, in the heat, for years. It won’t be any good.”
His mouth puckered like he was trying not to laugh.
“I know,” she said. “I’m nagging, but it’s true. I know you have some that you could take, because I can see you already put some on. Take the fresh stuff or you’ll be too burnt to work tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He went back to the bedroom, returning with a bottle of sunscreen, which he stuck into the tote bag. “I’ll take this down and come back for the food.”
“All right.” She got the last cooler packed as he wheeled the big drinks cooler to the elevator.
By the time he came back up, the food cooler was ready, and she was tidying the kitchen. The food cooler was smaller and soft-sided, with a carrying strap.
He lifted it easily onto his shoulder. “Anything else you think I should take?”
She finished wiping the counter and considered the question. “I can’t think of anything. Hopefully, you’ll have everything you need.”
“We should be okay. Don’t worry about making any kind of dinner. If I’m hungry when I get home, I’ll make do with leftovers, but most likely all I’ll want is a shower.”
“Have fun. It’s very kind of you to take everyone out. Jeanie is smiling down on you, I just know it.” He’d said he wanted to talk about Jeanie more. Joyce hoped he didn’t mind the mention of her name now.
He took a breath and nodded. “I think she is, too. Thanks again for preparing everything. Have a good day. I’ll see you later.” He adjusted the food cooler and headed for the steps.
She folded the dish towel she’d been using. She was pretty much done in the house, now that she’d cleaned up. She went to the front windows, watching to make sure he got off all right.
The golf cart was just pulling down the drive.
She had more work to do at the guest house. She planned on washing the curtains in the kitchen and airing out the small second bedroom. Beryl wouldn’t mind that it was smaller. The bed had a nice mattress. Jeanie had bought the best one available so that Joyce could have company, if she wanted.
She never had. Beryl would be the first.
Joyce couldn’t wait for her sister to arrive. Just two more days. She made sure the main house was buttoned up, then went to her place. She took the curtains down and put them in the washer on delicate.
Then she got to work washing the baseboards. It hadn’t been done in a few years, an embarrassing fact for a woman who took such pride in keeping her surroundings clean. Her only excuse was that she’d been busy trying to keep Mitch alive.
Now that he seemed to have turned a corner on his grief, and thank Harper for that, Joyce felt like she could relax a bit.
The guest house wasn’t big. Probably not more than six hundred square feet, but it had everything Joyce needed. Two bedrooms, hers with a walk-in closet, which she considered more than she needed, a big bathroom, a combined pantry and laundry room, and a large open area that united the living room and kitchen into one airy space.
There was even room for a small table. It accommodated four chairs, but Joyce kept it tucked against the wall. She usually ate her dinner sitting on the couch, watching telly. Or, if it was nice, she’d sometimes eat on the balcony that overlooked the river.
She liked to watch the boats go by.
The views from the guest house and the two balconies made up for its compact size. Not that Joyce was bothered by the size. What was the sense of more space than she needed? Mitch had that big house all to himself and never used more than a few rooms. Hopefully, that would change soon.
Joyce’s stomach began to rumble as she washed the last section of baseboards. While she had the rag and bucket handy, she did the windowsills and, finally, the tracks for the sliding glass doors that went to each balcony.
She was sweating when she finished. The windows and glass doors still needed cleaning. With the salt in the air, that was a job that was never really done. She’d give herself a break, though, and eat some lunch.
She made a quick meal of cold chicken, a couple of slices of good cheddar, some pickles, and a piece of whole grain bread sliced from the loaf she’d gotten at Publix on her last shopping trip. While she ate, she made up a list of groceries she’d need to get in for Beryl’s visit.
She wanted to take Beryl to Publix while she was here. Joyce knew her sister would be impressed with the grocery store. Especially the bakery. She smiled as she ate. It would be so good to have her sister here.
Her plate went into the sink. The guest house had a dishwasher, but mostly she handwashed things. It took too long to fill the dishwasher up. Seemed more practical just to wash the few dishes she had.
She glanced at her laptop, sitting at the end of the kitchen counter. She’d been in a rush getting out of the house this morning, knowing she had the coolers to take care of, and that meant she’d hadn’t checked her email.
Was there a chance Kyle had finally responded? Or was his silence so far an indication that there wouldn’t be a response? The thought that he’d shut her out of his life made her sad. She’d done nothing to him. Nothing but look after him.
She understood Kyle being mad at his father, but her? Maybe she’d been too blunt in her letter to him.
That was a definite possibility. Young people these days got their feelings hurt with the blowing of the wind.
She tapped the touch pad to bring the machine to life, then opened up a browser window and went to her email. There was a circular from Publix, another from the dry cleaners and, miracle of miracles, a response from Kyle.
Nervousness almost kept her from clicking on it. Might just be him telling her never to contact him again.
She exhaled and opened the email, adjusting her glasses to read.
Dear Joyce,
Sorry it’s taken so long to respond. Things are busy here and it can be hard to find time. I have to keep this short. Do you think my dad really wants to reconnect with me? Do you think he’d forgive me? Even if I was in trouble? I made mistakes. I know that.
Have to run.
K
Joyce didn’t know what to make of that. It was so short. And odd. Was Kyle in trouble? What could be going on?
Joyce couldn’t speak for Mitch, but she sort of had to. She typed out a fast reply, picking up on a sense of urgency that might be all in her head.
Dear Kyle,
No matter what, your father loves you and would want to make things right between you two. I know he would forgive you if you would forgive him. It works both ways. Is there anything I can do to help you? Are you all right? I’m only a phone call away.
Please let me know.
With love,
Joyce
She added her phone number under her name, just as a reminder, then hit Send and said a little prayer that whatever was going on with Kyle was nothing too serious.
Then she said one for herself. If she’d started something she shouldn’t have, she was going to be in a lot of trouble.