Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (103 page)

TWENTY-SIX

Jesse folded his napkin, leaned back in his chair, and patted his stomach. “Baby, you grill a mean steak.” Stretching out his lanky form, he lifted his legs, rested his feet on a chair, and yawned.

Clare smiled. It had been such an odd couple of hours, eating dinner with this man, knowing that when the last bite was taken, she was going to say what she now said: “Thanks, Jesse. I’m glad you liked it. I have something to tell you, and I wanted you to be … comfortable while we talk.”

“Oh, man.” Jesse looked wary. “Now what?”

Her hands were shaking. When she returned from the beach, she wanted to do it right away—it was almost as if she’d already done it, and she wanted to move on, but she owed Jesse the dignity of a serious conversation. Her father was happily ensconced in front of a long PBS show. The door into the living room was shut. Ralphie lay next to Clare’s chair.

She removed her engagement ring and set it on the kitchen table. “Jesse, I’m breaking off our engagement.”

Jesse stared at her as if she’d just put the toaster on her head. “Excuse me?”

“I’m breaking off with you, Jesse. For good. I don’t want to marry you, and I don’t want to be engaged to you, and I hope we’ll be friends, but—”

Jesse’s feet thudded to the floor as he straightened. “Clare! What are you even talking about? I haven’t fooled around since we got engaged!” His tone was indignant.

Softly, Clare said, “Oh, honey, this isn’t about you fooling around. This is about me, and how I feel about you. How I feel about
us
. Jesse, I love you—”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“—but I’ve realized I’ve come to love you as if you were, oh, my brother, or a friend.”

“A friend who can make you scream in bed.”

“Yes, that’s true. But I want more than that for a marriage, Jesse. I want a nice, solid, boring marriage with a couple of kids and no dramas. And you want, well, for one thing, you want to travel.”

“Oh. Right. I get it. You’ve been talking to Lexi.” Jesse balled up his paper napkin and threw it on the table. “Lexi’s got you all stirred up.”

“Jesse, this has nothing in any way to do with Lexi. You told me yourself you didn’t want a dog because it would tie you down, keep you from traveling.”

“Oh, hell, Clare, a man can have his dreams, can’t he?”

“Absolutely, and I want you to
have
your dreams, Jesse. I
want
you to travel. But I want to stay here, and get married, and have children. And that’s not your dream. It’s never been your dream.”

Jesse frowned and rubbed his forehead hard. “Well, Clare …” He struggled to express himself. “I love you. We’ve been together our entire adult lives.”

Clare nodded. “Yes, that’s true. If you don’t count the weeks—the months—when you’ve been screwing someone else.”

“I’m over that now. You know I am. I thought you understood that. I don’t know what I have to do to convince you that I’m through playing around, Clare. I can’t erase the past. I can’t undo what I’ve done. I can’t—” Jesse squirmed, agitated.

“Jesse, calm down. I’m not talking about the past. I’m not even talking about sex. I’m talking about what I want out of life.
What I want for the rest of my life
.”

The starch in her voice made Jesse take a deep breath. He studied her face. “You’re saying I’m not what you want for the rest of your life.”

He looked like a little boy now, a sweet, innocent, sensitive little boy who couldn’t understand why he couldn’t have a puppy.

“Yes, Jesse. I’m saying that. You’re not what I want for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be married to you.”

“You don’t want to have children with me.”

She caught her breath. Of course Jesse knew her most vulnerable point. His child, that darling tender blue-eyed baby, floated just beyond her vision, a dream she had had for more years than she could remember. “Oh, Jesse.” This was the hardest thing to surrender, the image she’d cherished for so many years, of Jesse’s baby in her arms, and her eyes filled with tears.

Jesse jumped up from his chair, came around the table, and knelt next to Clare, putting his arm around her back. Next to him, Ralphie sat up, alert and worried, watching Clare with her wide, anxious doggie eyes.

“Clare.” Jesse almost shook Clare in his desperation. “Clare. Look. Let’s go in the bedroom and get you pregnant right now.”

She gulped. “Jesse, sweetie, no.” It was like she was explaining basic mathematics to a two-year-old. “If we had wanted to have a baby or get married and have a life together, we would have done it before now, and we just haven’t.”

“Because we’ve been saving money!”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And it’s a good thing we haven’t, it’s all right, because we love each other, we care for each other, but we’re not meant to be married to each other.”

Jesse stood up and paced around the kitchen, stomping in frustration. “You just said we love each other!”

“We do, Jesse. That doesn’t mean we want to be married to each other. Think about it now, come on.
Think.

“You know what I
think,
Clare? I think you’ve gone crazy.”

She blew her nose and shoved her hair away from her face and pushed back her chair and stood. She took hold of Jesse and held him at arm’s length. “Look at me, Jesse Gray. I am sober and I am sane. I love you like a dear dear friend. But I know I’m not the right woman for you to marry, and I know you’re not the right man for me.”

Jesse studied her face. He was all there, concentrated on her. Tears welled in his blue eyes. “Well, hell, Clare, this is just awful. This is just, well, it’s
confusing.

She stroked his face tenderly, knowing it was probably the last time she’d touch him this intimately. “I know, honey. But you can figure it out. We can figure it out. It’s going to be fine. Better than fine. When you wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll feel set free.”

He shook his head, then dipped his jaw so that his mouth was touching the palm of her hand. He kissed her hand. She let him, for a moment, looking at his familiar face with bittersweet affection.

Jesse said, “Want to go to bed?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Jesse, you are hopeless!”

“Does that mean you don’t want to go to bed?”

She moved away from him, laughing. “I don’t want to go to bed.”

He put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “You’re sleeping with someone else.”

“I swear, Jesse. I’m not.”

“Well,
hell
.” He shocked her when he turned suddenly and slammed his fist into the wall. Coffee cups and spoons jangled all over the kitchen. “Just how do we go on from here, Clare?”

She shrugged. “You go to your house, I’ll stay here. We sleep. Tomorrow you can come over when I’m gone and get your things. I’ll work. You’ll work. By tomorrow evening you’ll have fifteen women lined up to console you in bed.”

“I don’t want fifteen other women. I want you, Clare.”

“I know that’s what you think, Jesse. But give yourself some time. This is the right choice for both of us. At least, I’m sure it’s the right choice for me.”

Ralphie trailed nervously after her as she ushered Jesse to the door. Clare thought she would be exhausted, but she was weirdly charged up. Now that she had broken off with Jesse, she felt impatient. She wanted him gone.

“I’m phoning you tomorrow, Clare, to see if you’ve changed your mind,” Jesse said.

“I’m not changing my mind, Jesse.” She almost had to shove him out the door.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The phone rang just as Lexi came out of the shower. She considered not answering. It was late, and she was exhausted. Still … she picked up the phone.

“Hey, Lexi, can I come over? I’ve got news.” Clare’s voice was warm, friendly, even exuberant.

Lexi was confused. “Well, I don’t know what to say, Clare …”

“Oh, Lexi, I’m so sorry about freaking out this morning, it was unforgivable of me, although I hope you’ll forgive me, of course. Listen, I love the name of your shop. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

Warily, Lexi asked, “What
do
you want to talk about?”

“Oh, Lexi, please just let me come over!”

“All right. Come over. I’ll put some coffee on.”

“No. I’ll bring champagne.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Ha! Not even close.” Clare’s laugh was musical.

“You and Jesse eloped.” Lexi found herself smiling in response to Clare’s enthusiasm, and this conversation reminded her of childhood phone calls when they had so much to say they couldn’t seem to hang up in order to meet somewhere.

“Colder and colder. No more guesses. I’m on my way!”

Lexi pulled on a long-sleeved white T-shirt and a pair of plaid men’s boxer shorts. She spent a few moments trying to straighten her immensely chaotic living/office/warehouse space and finally settled on removing a box of padded hangers from one of the two armchairs by the window. Outside, darkness had fallen, and stars shone down like lighthouses in an unimaginably vast ocean. She couldn’t imagine what Clare had to say but the happiness in her voice was contagious.

She saw Clare’s Sweet Hart’s van slam to a halt on the cobblestones and hurried down her back stairs to reach the door just as Clare knocked.

Lexi held the door wide. “Come in.”

Clare didn’t waste a glance on the store, but raced up the stairs to Lexi’s living quarters. She wore khaki shorts and a chocolate-spotted white shirt and carried a bottle of champagne with her. “Glasses?” she asked.

Lexi gestured around the room. “Juice glasses will have to do. I haven’t gotten around to unpacking things like crystal.”

“Perfect. Fine.” Clare popped the cork, then hurried to hold the bottle over the sink as the bubbly liquid fizzed over the neck.

Lexi gawked. If she hadn’t seen Clare in her extravagant states before, she’d worry about her now in this manic mood. She held out two glasses and waited.

Clare poured the champagne. She held up her glass in a toast. “I’ve broken off with Jesse.”

Lexi nearly fell over. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it. I did. And Lexi … I feel so happy! So
free
!”

Lexi bit the inside of her lip. “What caused this breakup?”

“I don’t know, Lexi. All sorts of things, I guess. Adam, certainly—and I swear on my life, if you mention this to Adam, I’ll truly never speak to you again—whatever happens between Adam and me is hands off to you, Lexi, okay?”

Lexi leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Of course. I won’t say a thing to him.”

“Okay, first, I guess, is Adam. I am just experiencing the most wonderful sensations, emotions—such clarity, such pleasure—when I’m with him. And maybe nothing will happen between the two of us, or maybe something will, but it made me realize how muddy and tired things had gotten between me and Jesse. How my whole spirit seemed to ache from holding on so tight, keeping Jesse on some kind of leash, and that was just so wrong for Jesse and wrong for me.” Clare couldn’t stand still; she gestured and turned and walked away and came back to face Lexi. “And you coming back. I don’t know, it could be that seeing you back here, knowing you got divorced and you’re happy and optimistic and starting over and oh, I don’t know, just
throwing
yourself onto Fate … well, I can do that, too! I
want
to do that.”

“It might get lonely,” Lexi warned.

“I know that. But it will be more genuine, Lexi. I won’t be living my life trying to force Jesse into a role he doesn’t want to play.”

“So you’ve told him?”

“Just tonight. After dinner.”

“How did he take it?”

“He was surprised, of course. Confused and kind of angry. He kept thinking I suspected him of sleeping with someone else.”

Lexi bent down to pick up a loose bit of the foil from the bottle. “
Is
he sleeping with someone else?” Guiltily, she remembered Jesse’s kisses, and her own response.

“He swears he isn’t, but that doesn’t even matter now, Lexi. That’s not why I broke off with him.”

Lexi straightened so she could watch Clare’s face. “But Clare, you know how Jesse is. How are you going to feel when he does sleep with someone else? When he gets engaged to someone else? When he marries someone else and you all live on this island and see each other every day?”
What if Jesse and I got together,
she wondered, but forced that thought aside. This wasn’t the right time to think about that.

Clare was bubbling. “Honestly, Lexi, I’ll feel fine about it. I can’t explain it, it’s like they say about having a veil lifted from your vision, or in this case more like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I want Jesse to be happy. I don’t hate him, I don’t wish him ill. I know he’ll find someone else and marry someone else, and even if I end up a spinster living with a dog and eating too many of my chocolates, I’d rather do that than be with him.”

Lexi reminded her vaguely, “Spinsters live with cats.”

“Right!” Clare lifted her glass. “Guess that means I won’t be a spinster.”

“No.” She chose her words carefully. “Perhaps you should wait a few days to celebrate. Let your emotions settle. Maybe you’ll realize how much you miss him. How much you love him.”

“Oh, Lexi, I know exactly how I feel! I’m happy. I’m free. I’m starting over.”

“Well, it’s very brave of you. But go slowly,” Lexi advised. “You seem a little … 
volatile
these days.”

“Oh, Lexi!” Clare stomped her foot impatiently. “Come on, drink with me.” Clare clinked her glass against Lexi’s. “Here’s to the future.”

Lexi said quietly, “Right. Here’s to the future.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Lexi woke with a hangover. It had been after midnight when Clare finally wound down and went laughing off down the stairs and into the night. Lexi had collapsed on her bed with all her clothes on, and now the sun was glaring in the windows like an irate timekeeper. It was after ten o’clock. She took a long and extremely hot shower, letting the water pound away her slight headache, flashing back on Clare’s visit. Clare had been so happy, almost bored with the whole subject of Jesse, and somehow they’d gotten onto remembering their childhood, laughing like girls while they drank the entire bottle of champagne.

Remember when we pretended to be in the CIA and left notes for each other in the books at the library? Remember the time we Super Glued Harsh Marsh’s desk drawer shut?

She rubbed her scalp hard as she toweled her hair dry. She drank two cups of strong coffee and ate a piece of toast with peanut butter. No chance she could open today; there were too many things left undone. She found her list and scanned it. Hooks had to be hung in the cubicles—four in each. And brackets for the curtain rods and holders for the tiebacks. Would she be able to mount the hardware herself? In her own home, she would trust her work, but she wanted everything in Moon Shell Beach to be perfect. Plus, she needed the quarter board with the shop’s name mounted above the front door and that was one thing she really couldn’t do herself. Jesse had said he’d come back to finish the work … should she call him? He would assume Clare had told him about their break-up …

She caught herself staring off into space. There were a million other things that had to be done. She would not stand here thinking about Jesse Gray.

         

All day she unpacked, checked inventories, ironed, sewed, and stacked. Now and then she noticed people entering Sweet Hart’s, and she smiled, imagining Clare flying around the shop on her newfound high.

She wasn’t even thinking about Jesse when her phone rang and Jesse said, “I’m downstairs at your door.”

It was late afternoon. Jesse looked rough, his shirt stained with sweat, his work boots covered with sawdust, and dark circles under his eyes. One look at him, and Lexi knew to focus on the shop, not on personal matters.

“Oh, Jesse, thanks for coming. I need the sign mounted, and some hooks put on the walls, and the curtain brackets. It shouldn’t take you too long.”

Jesse nodded without speaking and headed to the back of the shop. He had already marked the spots for the hooks, and in only a few minutes he had them securely fastened. Wrestling Lexi’s footstool around, he stood on it to nail in the brackets. Then he took the sign outside and hung it above the door:
Moon Shell Beach.

Lexi and Jesse stood side by side on the cobblestones, looking up at it.

“Looks good,” Jesse said gruffly.

“It really does.” This was a huge moment for Lexi, and she was disconcerted to find her attention distracted from her shop to the simple fact of the handsome man standing next to her. The man just radiated sex. It had to be a chemical thing.

“Want to share a celebratory drink with me?” she asked lightly, wincing at the very thought of putting alcohol into her system after last night.

Jesse shook his head. “Thanks anyway.” He headed back into the shop and picked up his toolbox.

“Well, Jesse, let me pay you before you go.”

“I’ll send you a bill.”

“Oh, right, sure, of course.” Lexi flapped her hands. “Jesse … Jesse, Clare told me you two have broken up.”

Jesse didn’t look at Lexi and his voice was low. “I’m sure she did.”

“I just, well, if you ever …” She didn’t even know what she wanted to offer. Consolation? A shoulder to cry on? Sex?

“I’ve gotta go, Lexi.” Jesse’s shoulder brushed hers as he passed her on his way out the door.

It was quiet after Jesse left. Lexi stepped back out into the cobblestone lane to gaze at her sign. Next door, Sweet Hart’s was empty; the
Closed
sign hung on the door. Tomorrow was not Lexi’s official Grand Opening Day—that would be on Saturday, and she’d put an ad in the paper announcing it. But tomorrow, Friday, she would open. In the morning there would be plenty of time to hang the lavender and blue panels of raw silk she would use for privacy curtains on the cubicles. She went through her shop and out the back door.

For a moment, she stood just looking out at the harbor. In the strong, late-afternoon light, the water was darker, and the wind had picked up, making waves swell and retreat against the sandy curve of beach. The tide was coming in. The herring gulls were still at it, screaming and dropping shells on the town pier, then dive-bombing down to eat the tender meat inside. She wondered what Clare was doing. She wondered what Jesse was doing. She saw Jewel sitting at the end of the pier, with the sun blazing down on her.

Grabbing up a tube of sunblock, she closed the door behind her and walked over the beach to the town pier.

“Hey, Jewel.”

The child’s face lit up. “Hi, Ms. Laney!”

“Mind if I join you?”

“That would be excellent.”

Lexi dropped down onto the warm boards next to the girl. “Look what I’ve brought you.” She held out a tube of sunblock.

“Thank you, Miss Laney. But I have my sunhat.” Jewel tapped the floppy straw hat on top of her head.

“True, but what about your arms and legs?” She was not going to lecture the child about skin cancer. Surely Bonnie Frost lathered her daughter up with sunblock each morning. Lexi just wanted to be sure.

Jewel looked down at her scrawny girl legs protruding from yellow shorts. They were brown, with a glow of burn along the tops. “Well, I suppose it’s a good idea. Thank you.” Taking the tube, she smeared sunblock on her legs. “Feels good,” she said. “Cool.”

Lexi stretched out beside Jewel. “Might be wise to do your arms, too.”

Jewel complied. “You aren’t very tanned,” she noted.

“True. I’m always working. No time for play.”

“That’s what my mother said about my father.”

Lexi hid a smile. Of course the girl wanted to talk about her father. “I knew your father when I was in school. Well, I’m two years younger than Tris, so I hardly knew him. He was so old and sophisticated.” Lexi smiled, thinking how from her vantage point, a teenage boy was
so
not sophisticated, but she saw the way Jewel nodded, her gaze growing dreamy, and of course from the girl’s point of view, a teenage boy was a creature of infinite mystery.

“He was a friend of my brother’s, Adam Laney, you know him, the veterinarian. He was really nice to little kids. I mean your father and my brother. They were the coolest guys in the school, and they weren’t ever mean or snobby. They both worked in the summer, but on their time off they were always at the beach with a whole gang of boys.” Lexi closed her eyes, remembering those long-ago summer days, the heat and glare and salt spray, how she and Clare spread their striped beach towels on the sand close enough to watch the guys as they body surfed or played Frisbee on the beach. The popular older girls would saunter by in their bikinis, striking poses to attract the guys, and the guys were attracted, no doubt about it. They’d yell at the girls, or chase them into the ocean, their bodies brown and slippery as seals.

“Everyone thought your father was cute,” Lexi continued. “We didn’t call guys handsome then. We called them cute or hunky. Whenever they could, my brother would go out with your father on Tris’s sunfish. They loved capsizing—” Lexi stopped a moment, wondering if this would frighten Jewel, then continued. “They thought capsizing was the best fun. Sometimes they were real goofs in the water. My parents got mad when they heard about it, but Tris and Adam were ace swimmers, they were like dolphins.” She remembered watching them from shore. She could hear their raucous nutty boy laughter all the way across from Monomoy. When they reached the town pier, they’d fall backward into the water, splashing like drunken whales. They waded up onto the beach, dripping water off their muscular sunburned shoulders, their bodies as powerful as gods as they dismantled the sunfish and hefted the rudder and sail in their arms.

“I know,” Jewel said, nodding. “My dad’s second home is the water. I know he’s fine, I know he’s somewhere, I know he’ll come home.”

“I hope you’re right,” Lexi said. She wrapped her arm around Jewel, hugging her tightly. She didn’t come here to help the girl, she realized; she came here for herself. Jewel was so good at hoping, and Lexi wanted to be good at that, too.

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