More laughing. Lots of laughing… What had she said now? Faith reached over and turned the vent so that the air conditioning was blowing right on her face. Her cheeks were on fire with embarrassment.
Once he’d calmed down from his laughing fit, Jake, still smiling, said, “I do carpentry on the side. It’s not my full time job. I do it because I love it. I’ve always done it with my dad. It makes me feel closer to him. And the car and the boat are mine.”
“Yours?” Faith said, trying not to show her complete astonishment.
He smiled.
She struggled to put a sentence together. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked, wondering why he hadn’t pointed that fact out when they’d taken the boat ride.
He laughed again. “What did you want me to say—hello, I’m Jake Buchanan. I own a boat and a car,” he teased. “Should I list all my other assets?” He pulled in to the parking lot and turned off the engine. The whole journey had passed and she hadn’t even noticed. Her mind still reeling from this bit of information—he’d given her a lot to digest at once—Faith looked out at the massive black and white striped lighthouse, that she’d only ever seen from the road, as Jake got out. She was grateful they were there so she could change the conversation.
He opened her car door and stepped to the side as she swung her legs around. She hopped out, shut the door, and followed Jake to the long, wooden walkway heading to the lighthouse. The walk was made of flat boards, laid side to side, like a low-lying pier, and it stretched for ages. The tall sea grass danced in the wind on either side of it, and, despite it being after five o’clock, the sun’s heat was warm on her arms and shoulders as she walked beside him toward the gorgeous structure at the edge of the sea.
The lighthouse looked as though it were all white with a wide belt of black twisting around it like a perfectly horizontal stripe of a candy cane. The black, iron top of it, housing the large glass optic section for the lantern, was so ornamented that it looked as though it were a giant crown. The lantern, housed in a cylinder of glass, sparkled in the sunlight. The whole thing sat on the most gorgeous piece of property—a large expanse of lush green giving way to pond-sized puddles. Each puddle, when seen from this distance, looked like a stepping stone to the sea.
“There’s so much space here,” Jake said, looking out at the vast stretch of grass that led to the shoreline. “You know what I see when I look at it?”
She shook her head, still taking it all in.
“I see hope and possibilities. All this undeveloped, beautiful land.”
Faith knew just what he meant. So much retail space had eaten up the shoreline that this unspoiled landscape was a refreshing change. Looking out at it, it gave her hope too—hope that there would always be some place, some retreat for her when things got crazy in life. She promised herself right then that she’d come back to this place, find a small but perfect spot for solitude and healing, and just soak it in. It really was a perfect view.
“I love the outdoors,” she said.
“Me too. At the house where I grew up, it was very wooded. I used to run from back yard to back yard. I’d pretend I was an explorer in the forest.”
“Sounds like me,” she said with a smile. “I had a creek by my house and a lot of woods. I used to play outside all the time.” She followed him along the walk, careful to step over a board that had warped and was jutting out slightly. Things were going more smoothly now; the last thing she wanted was to trip. “Casey and I used to catch lightning bugs.”
“So did I!” he said, his voice rising slightly in excitement.
“Did you try to keep them?” she asked.
“I put them in a mason jar. I poked holes in the metal top. I’d keep them in there for about fifteen minutes before I felt sorry for them and let them go. Every time, I swore I was going to keep them as pets.”
“That’s a very keen observation for a child, to realize they needed to be released.”
“I looked out at the woods and I thought how much better it was to run in them than to be shut up in my room, so they needed to have the same freedom. Did you keep yours?”
“No. I didn’t think as much about it as you did, but I always let them go.”
“Ah,” he smiled, sending a current of happiness through her chest. “Maybe it’s because you already knew. You didn’t have to think about it.”
Faith and Jake had let their lightning bugs go, only holding them close to inspect their beauty; their real beauty was when they were out in the world. Perhaps that was how Nan felt about her family. She enjoyed seeing them out instead of shut up in the confines of the house. It hit her at that moment that she hadn’t shared much of her social life with Nan in a long time.
Perhaps Nan didn’t realize how much she’d changed. Was that why she’d brought them all the way to the Outer Banks for her birthday? Was that why she had all those photos—photos of life being lived? Was Nan hoping to remind them all that they needed to enjoy their lives? No one ever takes photos while sitting at a desk working. Those aren’t the memories that matter. That wasn’t living. As she walked next to Jake, the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin, the clean, spicy smell of him wafting around her in the breeze, she realized how much of a memory she was making. And this was a memory that mattered.
“So, what do you like to do when you aren’t working or building things? What do you do to relax?” she asked, the question coming easily this time. His hand was swinging right next to hers, and she wondered what it would feel like to be able to hold it casually. She wished she could fast forward to a time when she knew him well enough to feel completely at ease around him. He had such a gentle, caring way about him, despite his strong exterior. Would his romantic touch be as light as his words were sometimes?
“I’m up for anything,” he said.
“What about if it’s raining and you can’t go out. What do you do?”
He grinned a crooked grin and shook his head. “You probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“Why? Do you give yourself facials or something?” she giggled at the thought.
“Ha! No. Definitely not.” He chuckled some more and allowed her to hop off the walkway first. On the grounds of the lighthouse was an old farmhouse—white wooden siding with a long, country porch. It looked as though it might be a museum. “I sit in my favorite chair and read.”
