Chapter Nine
THE TRAIL LEADING to Duck Harbor Beach was a long one that snaked over the dunes with no trees to shade and cool the sand. The first time Jenna had come to Duck Harbor with Pete, they’d come in the afternoon with their friends from Seaside. By noon the path was scorching hot, and by three o’clock, even walking in flip-flops was painful, because sand seeped over the edges, sizzling from roasting for hours in the hot sun. Jenna had complained on the way over the steamy dunes, and Pete had knelt before her and given her a piggyback ride to the beach while the others made fun of them. They’d come to Duck Harbor with bottles of wine and a basket of snacks, to watch the sunset. It was years ago, but Jenna recalled it as if it were yesterday. The sun had left layers of purple and orange in its wake, and she and Pete had sat beside each other. When she shivered with the cool night air, he’d wrapped his zip-up sweatshirt around her shoulders with the easiest smile.
She sighed, thinking of how she’d felt warmed by his jacket, his scent soaking into her senses. She’d relived their kiss so many times since yesterday that she’d memorized every breath. He was so different from the man she thought he’d be that he’d taken her by surprise. Heck, she’d taken herself by surprise when she’d pulled him back for a kiss, but she wasn’t taking any more chances. She wanted him to know how she felt about him.
I think he got the hint.
Jenna set down her romance novel and flipped onto her back with a sigh. She’d talked to her mother for an hour this morning, and she made a point of omitting any mention of Pete. Her mother went on and on about the new outfits she’d bought, outfits that sounded too young for Jenna, much less her mother. Jenna had tried to be patient with her, and when her mother brought up coming down to the Cape again, Jenna agreed to the idea, but put off choosing a date until she knew where she and Pete were headed. She’d come to Duck Harbor to try to ease her nerves about their impending date, but it wasn’t working. She was sure she’d somehow swallowed a nest of bees.
She sighed again.
Amy set her book down and turned onto her back. “You’re doing it again.”
“Hm?” She and Amy had been lying in the sun since nine o’clock that morning. Vera had joined them and was sitting contentedly beneath a large umbrella, wearing a straw sunhat and a sheer cover-up over her bathing suit, a thick book in her hands. Like Jenna and Amy, Vera was an avid reader, which made them perfect companions for a lazy beach day.
“You have that just been done look,” Amy whispered. “I’m a little jealous.”
“I know about that look,” Vera said with a twinkle in her eyes. She patted her hair and smiled.
“Vera!” Amy laughed.
“I do not have that look. My eyes are closed.” Jenna scrunched her nose, then wiggled her lips, but she didn’t feel as though her face had been portraying anything telling.
“Jenna dear,” Vera began. “Women don’t need to see other women’s eyes to know when we’re thinking about men. Our skin resonates desire. Why, you could no better hide that than the bay could refrain from washing away at low tide.”
“I’m that transparent? Wow. Vera, I wish I would have known that yesterday morning. That’s probably why when I finally got the guts to break up with Charlie, he wasn’t surprised.”
“Oh yes. I’m sure that’s why.” Vera sighed. “Men know these things, too, but some take longer to recognize it than others.”
“You can say that again,” Amy agreed. “I just can’t believe I missed the whole thing with you and Pete. I didn’t even realize you were gone. Everyone was taking pictures of the shark, and Lacy and I were so focused on not being nervous that we were talking about high school just to keep our minds busy. It wasn’t until Charlie called your name and Bella went to find you that I realized you were gone. And, of course, a minute later I noticed Pete was gone, but by then I knew I had to keep Charlie out of there, so…that was fun.”
Jenna turned to face her. Amy’s blond hair was gathered over her left shoulder. She was shading her eyes and watching a man walk down the beach. Amy had a subtle tan, and there wasn’t an inch of extra meat on her, but she wasn’t like some pin-thin women who looked like broomsticks with bras. Amy’s slim hips and small breasts had curves, even if lean, and her caring personality made her even more attractive. Jenna had no idea how Tony Black didn’t want to wrap her up, take her home, and keep her all to himself. She was as good and honest as they came. Jenna knew that Amy playing middleman with Charlie must have been very uncomfortable for her, especially since Amy wasn’t a good liar. She could omit information, but asked a direct question, she was more likely to spit out the truth and then slap her hand over her mouth, wide-eyed and apologetic.
Jenna reached for her hand.
“I’m so glad we’re friends, Ames. Thank you for having my back.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“Yeah. I would. And I’m so sorry that Tony isn’t here this summer.”
Amy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. He called me this morning to say he wished he were here with us.”
Us. Jenna wished Tony would have said here with you to Amy. Amy needed a distraction, and Jenna knew just the thing. She pushed to her feet and bounced on her toes. “Rock hunting time!”
“You’re such a goofball. Fine, but I’m not carrying heavy rocks back to the car, so you can forget that idea right now.” Amy pushed to her feet and slipped on a bright red, floppy sun hat.
“Vera, would you like to join us?” Jenna asked.
“Yes, I think I would enjoy a short walk.” Amy reached for her hand, and Jenna attached herself to Vera’s other arm.
Jenna loved Vera like a grandmother, and each year she was surprised to see how well Vera was holding up, especially after last year’s scare. They walked along the shore with their feet in the cold water. The bay beaches were rockier than the ocean side. The perfect rock-spotting venue for a rock collector like Jenna.
“Remember, we’re looking for—”
“Pitch-black rocks. I remember. Why pitch-black?” Amy bent to retrieve a rock and held it in her palm for Jenna to inspect.
“That’s dark gray, but close.” Jenna splashed water with her toes. “I thought this was going to be the summer I gave up on Pete,” Jenna explained. “I never thought we’d cross from friendship to anything more, no matter how much I wished for it. And with all the stuff going on with my mom, black seemed a fitting way to mark the summer.”
“One day you girls will realize that you have very little control over matters of the heart.” Vera nudged Jenna’s arm and pointed to a dark rock.
Jenna picked up the perfect black rock, thinking about what Vera said. “How can that be, Vera? People scheme all the time to connect with the person they’re attracted to.” Jenna held up the rock. “This is perfect. Thank you.” She tucked it into her bikini top, below her breast, as she’d done so many times before. With no pockets in bathing suits, Jenna had to be creative. She resituated her bikini top, then took Vera’s arm again.
“Oh yes. Women and men alike. They all scheme and plot, but rarely do those plots end the way they think they will. In my experience, forever loves, the ones that are meant to last through thick and thin, happen all on their own.” Vera smiled down at Jenna.
“See, Jenna?” Amy raised her brows. “I don’t have to look for a man. The right one will find me.”
“I guess that could be true, but, Vera, if that’s the way love works, then why is it taking Pete so long to realize I’m his…?”
“A little assumptive, are we? Just a day ago you couldn’t even talk to him.” Amy arched a brow.
“Okay, so maybe I’m not his…”
“His…” Vera repeated. “You’ll search your whole life to figure out what word encompasses all that your true love represents. I still can’t think of one word to describe my late husband. Comforting, yes. Loving, warm, angry sometimes.” She sighed. “Passionate. Frustrating. Safe. Warren was everything to me, and even that seems too simple of a statement. You’re on the cusp of your best years, girls, and every day you’ll grow a little wiser.”
“My twenties were pretty darn good,” Jenna said as she retrieved another rock, inspected it, and tossed it into the water.
They stopped and waded up to their ankles in the water.
Vera patted Jenna’s hand. “You’ll find something wonderful about every decade, but when you’re in your twenties, you’re just learning about yourself, your body, your desires, your pet peeves. Some couples can adapt to the changes that happen while you’re becoming women and men are coming into their own. But most couples these days don’t have the patience to love and grow together. They’re only interested in instant gratification, and when things fall short, they shrug and move on to the next person. My generation wasn’t better at too many things, but we seemed less self-involved. Less interested in proving we were valuable in a relationship. Things were slower. Families were units that did everything together. Oh, girls, we had such fun.” Vera reached for their hands. “We ate meals together without distractions. We could go hours without background noise, and we only knew what our friends were doing when they called or sent handwritten letters. Or, of course, when we loaded up the car and drove to see them.”
“But things change, Vera. People are busier. Everything’s more expensive, so we need to work harder. And there’s Facebook to keep in touch.” Amy looked at Jenna for validation.
“True,” Jenna agreed.
Vera’s eyes warmed even more, then filled with empathy. “It takes very little to make a happy life, girls. That’s the piece that everyone seems to forget. All those things people think they need—bigger houses, better cars, titles behind their names, gold-engraved invitations—they can never replace the warmth of trust and love, or the feeling of hugging a good friend, and I don’t mean a virtual, computerized hug.”
Vera blew out a breath and began walking down the beach again, still holding their hands. “The right relationship will leave you wanting for nothing. It will fill the spaces that others plug up with material things. And for those people, it’s when those material things are no longer enough that people turn outward, when really, they should turn their attention to their relationship and remember why they fell in love in the first place.”
“Vera, you make love sound so easy,” Amy said.
Vera laughed as they turned back the way they’d come. “Relationships are the most difficult thing you’ll ever do in your life. Childbirth? A breeze compared to living with a man. But again, the right partner will help you blossom. The wrong one will watch you wilt.”
Jenna thought about her summers on the Cape and how different they were from the other nine months out of the year, when she was strapped to her cell phone and calendar, and every minute was spent darting from one commitment to the next. There was no comparison to working versus being on vacation, but she let her mind wander, and she imagined what her life might be like if she put away her cell phone and turned off her computer in the evenings the other nine and a half months out of the year. She could read a million more books. She might even have time to paint for fun, rather than only working on projects for her art students. She wondered what Pete did in the evenings. Did he chat online? Hang out at bars during the winter? Was he a reader? She imagined him working on his boat throughout the year, maybe spending time with his dad, having dinners once a week, like she and her mother did, and the thought made her smile. She wanted to find out, and she wanted to do all those things with him.
They gathered their beach supplies and headed back to the car. Vera was so well versed in Cape beaches, having vacationed there her whole life, that she wore socks and solid walking shoes to avoid the hot sand on the path back to the car. She looked hilarious, but Jenna didn’t care. Her socks and shoes were simply part of who she was, like Jenna’s OCD tendencies and Amy’s sweet nature.
As she drove back toward Seaside, Jenna’s stomach began doing flips again. She was beyond nervous about her date with Pete that evening. If their kiss was any indication, she wasn’t sure she’d make it two minutes alone with him without climbing across the console of his truck and kissing that glorious mouth of his. She bit her lower lip as heat rushed to her cheeks. She shot a look at Vera, sitting in the passenger seat, watching her, with a smile on her thin lips.
Vera smiled. “It’ll be fine, Jenna. Remember, this is bigger than you. Just let yourself go and follow your heart.”
That’s what she was afraid of. Her heart had been soaking in thoughts of Pete for so many years that she thought she might drown.