Chapter 29
Jeanie
“Trust your craft, it will never lead you astray.”
—Eloisa Hobby
“I can’t believe the summer season at Hobby Island is drawing to a close,” Sharon said as she and Jeanie sat in lawn chairs watching the teens play an evening game of pool volleyball underneath the string lights at the Nestled Inn. “Next Saturday is the competition and then we all leave on the thirty-first.”
They were drinking the pineapple punch Vivian had made for the sleepover, but Sharon had tipped a bit of rum into their glasses from a flask she drew from her tote.
Because of Jack’s struggle with alcohol, Jeanie had never been much of a drinker, but she was on holiday and Sharon twisted her arm, saying she didn’t want to drink alone. Jeanie had more drinks this summer with Sharon than she had in the whole of the past ten years. While she enjoyed relaxing with Sharon, she wouldn’t continue the habit once she returned home.
But tonight, she was still on vacation and feeling mellow.
“Will you have your quilt ready for the competition in time?” Jeanie asked, watching the lightning bugs twinkle in the night.
“I think so. You?”
“All I have left is finishing the binding.”
“Oh, you’ll be done in no time. I’m still layering.”
“If you need any help, I can pitch in when I’m done with mine.”
Sharon shook her head. “I couldn’t impose on you like that, Jeanie. Besides, I’m not sure it’s allowed for one contestant to help another.”
“There’s nothing against it in the rules.”
A rogue volleyball arced through the air, heading straight for them. Sharon ducked and blocked the ball before it could knock over her drink. Jeanie’s reflexes kicked in. She jumped up, catching the ball in a smooth arc. With a gentle toss, she sent it spiraling back to the cheering teens in the pool.
“Thanks, Gran,” Artie said, her face shiny with water droplets.
“Easy, girls. You almost beaned Sharon.”
Jeanie settled back into her chair, feeling the pleasant warmth from the rum-enhanced punch. “Artie’s really taken to the island, hasn’t she?”
Sharon nodded, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights. “She’s much more relaxed than when we first arrived on the island.”
“We all are.”
“That’s Hobby Island for you.”
Jeanie took another sip of her punch, the sweetness of the pineapple mixing with the slight kick of the rum.
“It’s been quite a summer, hasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.” Jeanie’s thoughts drifted to the quilt, a symbol of her family’s summer journey. “It’s been an incredible experience. I feel like I’ve learned so much about myself, about letting go of the past and being true to who I am.”
Sharon smiled, lifting her glass in a toast. “To finding ourselves.”
Jeanie echoed the toast, feeling a surge of gratitude for Sharon’s friendship. She had come to value their talks and Sharon’s insights, even if they sometimes hit a little too close to home. Her mind flickered back to a moment earlier that summer when Sharon found her crying quietly at the beach. Without a word, Sharon had simply sat beside her, offering silent company that spoke louder than any words of comfort.
“You’ve been a big part of that journey for me, Sharon,” Jeanie said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Sharon gave an odd smile that seemed to hold a deeper meaning, but Jeanie couldn’t quite read what that was. “We all need someone to help us see things in a new light. I’m glad I could be here for you.”
The conversation drifted to other topics, and they continued to enjoy the evening as contentment mixed with the inevitable sadness of summer’s end. Jeanie glanced at Sharon, who was now watching the volleyball game, her expression thoughtful.
Jeanie caught herself studying Sharon’s profile, the soft glow of the lights casting shadows that added to her enigma. Despite their growing closeness, Sharon reminded her of a puzzle with a few key pieces missing—you could see the overall picture, but the details remained elusive.
“I just realized something,” Jeanie said.
“What’s that?” Sharon asked, her voice dreamy as she took another sip of rum punch.
“Even after almost two months, I don’t know anything about your personal life.” Whenever she asked Sharon about the past, the other woman would distract her or just ask Jeanie questions about her situation. There must be something painful there she didn’t want to talk about.
Sharon shrugged. “That’s because there’s nothing to tell.”
“Of course there is. I’m assuming you’re not married since you’ve never mentioned a husband and you don’t wear a wedding ring.”
Sharon waggled her ring finger. “Free as a bird.”
“Ever been married?”
“Once or twice.” Sharon took a long pull of her drink.
“Which was it? Once or twice?”
Sharon laughed. “Three times. None of them stuck.”
Now Jeanie was even more intrigued. “Children?”
“Nope.”
“Did you ever want any?”
“Never had the opportunity.”
Boy, this was like pulling teeth. “Siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Like me and Luna.”
“Uh-huh.” The ice clinked in Sharon’s glass.
“It’s lonely, isn’t it. Growing up without siblings.”
“Never much thought about it.”
Jeanie waited but Sharon didn’t expound. “Are your parents still living?”
“They died when I was six. Airplane crash.”
“Oh my, you’re an orphan!” Jeanie’s heart went out to her. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to talk about her past.
“That was almost sixty years ago. I’ve long forgotten them.”
Jeanie didn’t know what was worse. Losing your parents at an early age or having abusive parents. “So you grew up in foster care?”
“Old-fashioned orphanage.”
Jeanie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “And you never got adopted?”
“I did, but it didn’t take.” Sharon’s tone turned brittle.
“Sorry about all these questions,” Jeanie said. “I didn’t mean to pry. Just trying to get to know you better.”
“It’s fine.” Sharon waved a hand, not quite meeting Jeanie’s eyes. “I’m just a private person.”
They sat without speaking as laughter and lively chatter flowed around them. Jeanie studied Sharon’s troubled expression, realizing how little she truly knew this woman who had become her closest friend this summer.
“?’Scuse me, Jeanie.” Sharon got to her feet, swaying slightly. “I gotta pee.”
Jeanie sipped her rum punch gone watery from the melting ice and gazed out over the shimmering pool to the spot where Sharon had disappeared inside the inn. Her friend’s abrupt departure left Jeanie feeling oddly unsettled.
What had she said to cast that shadow over Sharon’s face and the quaver in her voice when she excused herself?
You and your clumsy questions, Jeanie scolded herself. Probing into Sharon’s tragic past, no wonder she made a quick exit. Some wounds never fully healed, even with time. Jeanie knew that well enough.
She pictured a young Sharon, suddenly orphaned and alone, facing a harsh world without parents to shield her. The image brought an ache to Jeanie’s throat. Her own childhood had come with difficulties, but at least she had family, no matter how dysfunctional they’d been.
Jeanie longed to embrace Sharon and whisper that she didn’t have to be self-reliant anymore. Not when there were those who cared deeply for her. Those who knew from experience that burdens were lighter when carried together.
She’d tell Sharon this when she returned. If only she could find the right words to help her wounded friend let down her guard. To convince Sharon that this connection they’d found was one built to last far longer than a season.
“Hey, Gran, watch this,” Artie hollered from the diving board. Apparently, the volleyball game was over.
“Be care—”
She didn’t get the word out before Artie did a gainer off the diving board. Jeanie sucked in her breath, overwhelmed by her granddaughter’s fearlessness.
Artie broke through the water beaming.
“Amazing!” Jeanie applauded. “Good job, Art.”
Sharon returned from the restroom, her steps a bit unsteady. She seemed lost in thought as she sank back into the lawn chair.
“Is everything okay?” Jeanie asked.
Sharon glanced over, flashing a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course. Must be the rum hitting me harder than expected.”
Jeanie studied her friend’s pensive profile, wishing she could ease the sadness she sensed lingering beneath Sharon’s usual vivaciousness. What sorrows haunted her from that childhood tragedy?
“It means so much to have a friend like you in my life,” Jeanie said, leaning over to give Sharon’s hand an affectionate pat. “I want you to know you never have to pretend with me.”
She turned to meet Jeanie’s earnest gaze, eyes glistening. She opened her mouth as if to speak but seemed to think better of it. Instead she managed a shaky smile.
“We all have chapters we’d rather keep closed,” Sharon said. “But your friendship helps me see the past through gentler eyes.”
Jeanie gave Sharon a hug, hoping her fierce embrace could convey what words could not—that the present was a gift not to be squandered. That judgment could be set aside for understanding.
“I’m here whenever you need me,” Jeanie whispered, and she meant it with all her heart.