“Yeah, I read about the beach. It sounds cool.”
“And my grandparents were fabulous beachcombers. The cottage was full of all sorts of shells and sea glass and whatever they’d drag home after a storm.”
“Do you think they’re still there? The shells and stuff?”
“Oh, I don’t know ... I hope so.” Seeing the rain had stopped, she turned off the wipers. “I’d always hoped to find a sand dollar on that beach.” She noticed signage for the town up ahead and turned on her signal to exit. “But I never found a single one. Gammi and Poppa only had three sand dollars. They kept them up on the mantel. Hopefully, they’re still there.”
As Wendy pulled into the gas station and convenience market, she felt a small rush of excitement. Maybe this was what Jackson felt—the eager anticipation for what lay ahead. As they emerged from the car, she got a whiff of what smelled like pungent sea air—or maybe it was her imagination. But in the same instant, she felt the child inside her waking up, demanding to know:Are we there yet?Was it really possible that her beloved Seaside was only a few hours away?
Fortified with chicken tenders, potato skins, and drinks, Wendy and Jackson hurried back to the car just as the sky opened up and let loose another deluge of cold, pounding rain. As Wendy started the engine, turning the wipers on full blast, her earlier enthusiasm waned considerably. Her plan to disclose the truth to Jacksonbeforetheir arrival loomed above her—just like the dark clouds overhead.
“This is the best day ever,” Jackson declared as he dipped a piece of chicken in the barbecue sauce. “I haven’t felt this good since ... well, you know.”
Shedidknow. So maybe it was okay to live in a delusion—even if only for a short while. Didn’t she and Jackson deserve a small measure of happiness? Even if it was only temporary ... or delusional? Jackson deserved a break from his middle-school tormenters—and no one could deny that Wendy was overdue for a vacation. Even her boss acted eager for her to go. “Just be back by December 23rd,” he’d reminded her on Friday. “I’ve planned an important full-day staff conference—a meeting of the minds and a bit of a holiday party. I want you there too.”
That gave them a little more than three weeks—plenty of time to fix up the cottage and place it on the market. Hopefully it wouldn’t even take that long. The bigger question was, how long would it take for Jackson to realize how small and isolated Seaside truly was ... and how dead and boring it could get when winter set in? A generous dose of disillusionment might be just the ticket to get him to change his mind about becoming a permanent resident there. She could only pray.
two
DESPITE HER RESOLVEnot to surrender to childish feelings of delight over her belated return to Seaside, Wendy let out a happy gasp as they reached the outskirts of the small coastal town. The heaviest clouds had continued westward and the sinking sun was now painting the sky in vibrant shades of coral, purple, and amber.
“Oh, my!”She pulled the car onto the road’s shoulder. “I’ve got to get a photo of this gorgeous sunset.” She grabbed up her phone and hopped outside, snapping a couple of good shots.
“Seaside is welcoming us,” Jackson exclaimed.
“Maybe so.” She zoomed her phone’s camera toward the eastern horizon.
“Is that the ocean?” Jackson pointed to the barely visible dark blue strip of water.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s it.”
He let out another happy whoop then swooped her into a big bear hug. “This is so cool, Mom! I think I can smell the ocean.”
She sniffed the air then nodded. “I can smell it too. There’s nothing like the scent of the sea.” She felt herself choking back unexpected tears. Were they tears of joy or sadness? She wasn’t sure, but to distract herself she took a few more photos, then got back in the car.
“Maybe you can paint something from those pictures,” Jackson suggested as she continued driving toward town.
“I probably couldn’t do it justice,” she confessed. “Skies are hard to replicate.”
“WELCOMETOSEASIDE,”Jackson triumphantly read from the sign. “POPULATION2058.” He laughed. “About to become 2060!”
She grimaced.
“Seaside is more than a hundred times smaller than Cincinnati—and that’s just fine with me.” He pointed to a big gleaming SHELLsign. “Hey, you’re wrong, Mom, theydohave a gas station.”
“Well, Seaside is definitely bigger than it was.” She peered at what used to be the outskirts of town, now filled in and built up. “But I’d still call it a one-horse town.”
“One horse is enough for me.” He leaned forward, looking left and right as she slowly cruised down Main Street. Despite being off-season, the town still looked surprisingly sweet and welcoming—and not completely vacated.
“Looks like they’ve done some improvements,” she quietly conceded.
“Oh, Mom, it’s way better than I expected!” He pointed out some highlights—the ice cream shop, the old arcade, the chowder house, a bowling alley that was new to her, and finally the wharf where dozens of boats were bobbing in the water. “This is so cool, Mom. What more could we want in a town?”
“Well, there’s no denying this place has grown and changed some,” she admitted.
“Maybe it’s atwo-horse town now.”
“Maybe.” She stopped at the intersection where Main Street and Beach Avenue crossed, looking around. “But, as you can see, not everything is open. That’s how it is in the off-season.” She pointed at the darkened Fisherman’s Wharf restaurant as evidence.
