When she parked out front, she was immediately hit with a memory. As a little girl, she’d spent time there, and not much had changed aside from new shutters on the windows and a different color paint. Shutting off her car, Coast grabbed her purse and the duffel she’d packed and planted both feet on the pavement. With dread in each step, she walked toward the porchlike she had anvils in her shoes. Taking in the neighborhood, Coast listened as a dog barked somewhere and an engine roared to life a couple of houses down. She raised her hand to knock and waited.
“Who the hell is it!” Beverly Bellamy belted from the other side of the door.
She had lived in the same ranch-style house the majority of her life, on this exact street in the middle of Ree Heights suburbs. Ironically, the hood was only a couple of blocks over, and she’d never shied away from it. Bee spent most of her life giving back to her community. Her husband, Ignacio, who everyone called Iggy, was well respected, and when he passed, the whole town rallied around Bee to make sure she was good. She ran things over at Haven House orphanage, and that place was lucky to have her.
“It’s Coast,” her niece replied.
Bee flung her door open, greeting Coast with a scowl as she gripped her mini nine-millimeter at her side. In her early fifties, she held on to her youth like she had some kind of potion. Not a wrinkle in sight. Her sleepy brown eyes raked over Coast carefully, noticing the duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
“Pretty early for an impromptu visit. You didn’t call first either.”
“I know.” Coast glanced over her shoulder, and it was clear to Bee that she was lost.
Not in the sense that she didn’t know where she was; it was more like who she was that she had trouble finding. She was covered in insecurities and uncertainty. Coast had her mother’s face and Beverly’s brother’s oval brown eyes. There was a familiar glint that Bee remembered from when the girl was a child.
“Well, don’t just stand on the porch. Come on in.” She waved her inside, then closed and locked the door behind her.
“I kind of didn’t have anywhere else to go. I was wondering if I could stay here for a while until I figure some things out. I work so I can pay you?”
“Stop.” Bee shut her eyes and held her hand up. “I have not gotten my full eight hours or coffee. This is the first Saturday I haven’t worked in months. Take one of the extra bedrooms down the hall, and we can talk later,” Bee told her. “You do still remember your way around this house, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Coast nodded.
“Good. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She yawned and sauntered around her in her soft yellow moo moo with her Ugg slippers.
Coast watched her disappear around the corner to her bedroom and took in the vaulted ceilings and original molding of the archways. There was a woodsy, bergamot aroma lingering in the air as she turned on her heel and located the nearest bedroom. When she and her parents would come to town over the years, this was the room she used. Pushing the door open, she flicked on the light and took in the bright eggshell walls, simple framed photos of different landmarks in Ree Heights, and a queen-sized bed covered in a mint green and white sheet and comforter set.
Kicking the door shut, Coast dropped her bag at the foot of the bed. She slipped out of her shoes and unzipped it. Before going to sleep, she planned to shower and brush her teeth in the private bath a few steps away. While rinsing the day off her, she thought about a few things. Sipes and Arwen, for one. She knew she couldn’t escape either of them, so she had to stay on her toes. Sipes was known to be ruthless in the streets, and Coast had shot him. She knew she wasn’t exempt from him putting her in a body bag. Her last thought as she threw her head back and the hot water rushed down her body was of the handsome stranger in the alley. It was such a random interaction, and he’d thrown her off with his confidence and brazenness.
Once she took care of her oral hygiene, Coast moisturized her body and face before slipping into a long PINK sleep shirt. Fishing her phone from her purse to charge, she pulled the covers back. She’d never been more exhausted. This day had kicked her ass, and she was ready to put it behind her. Her phone slipped from her hands before she could crawl under the covers. Cursing under her breath, Coast felt around under the bed until her fingers brushed across a flat box.
When she brought it out, she recognized it almost immediately. It was an old canvas paint set. There was some dust covering the top, but she opened it anyway to examine the contents. Brushing her fingertips across the brushes and different colors, immediately, a flash of her past flickered through her mind. She settled beside the bed, back against the side with her knees in the air and her bare feet sinking into the carpet.
It had been a long time since she’d picked up a paintbrush or sketch pencil, aside from occasionally doodling on napkins at the bar and restaurant. Slumping over, she looked around, pulling her phone out along with another separate box with a removable lid. Crossing her legs Indian style in front of her, Coast brought the box into her lap. She lifted the lid, a soft smile claiming her lips when she viewed the contents inside. She had to be about four or five when she drew those, and seeing them along with her initials at the bottom brought it all back.
She would sit in this room for hours with her easel, painting and drawing until her little hands cramped. Her uncle Iggy bought her this set and would sometimes come in and paint with her. Tears misted her eyes, and Coast struggled with fighting them. She’d never been the emotional kind. Her parents didn’t allow it. Somehow, one little trip through time had her breaking down with little control. She couldn’t believe Bee had hung onto these all this time. Checking the time on her phone, Coastslipped the paint and the other box back under the bed. After she plugged in her phone to charge, she climbed under the cozy covers and rested her head against the feathered pillows. With random images bouncing around her head, somehow, she managed to drift off.
Hours later…
“Well, I have no idea what she’s doing here, Marina. That’s why I’ve been trying to reach you and that damn brother of mine. She just showed up on my doorstep.”
Coast lifted her head from the pillow, thinking she was imagining Bee’s voice nearby.
The door to her room was closed, but she had to be standing outside of it.
“When is the last time you talked to her?”
“About six months ago!” Coast groaned, loud enough for Bee to hear and prop her door open as she rolled onto her back.
“I didn’t realize you were awake.”
“How can I not be with you outside my door talking? Loud.” Coast rubbed her eyes, and her stomach flipped before rumbling and eventually churning like old heavy cream.
“Well, excuse me.” Bee held her cell phone against her ear and watched Coast slowly ease into a sitting position on the edge of her bed.
She’d lost color to her face while gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep the room from spinning. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she’d been hungover once or twice. This was some variation of that and a stomach bug.
“It’s three ’o’clock in the afternoon. I was coming to make sure you still had a pulse.”
