A Walk Along the Beach(3)

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, grabbing hold of my coffee mug as I stood.

“Back to the grind,” Harper teased, “pun intended.”

Sean grinned. “I need to get back to work myself. Thanks for the conversation,” he said, looking at me.

“Ah…sure.”

Relieved, I headed to the counter and Keaton. His first name was Seth, but no one called him that. His size was something to behold. He must have been close to seven feet tall, and his shoulders were massive. He worked as a house painter, but he was far more talented than most folks gave him credit for. It was a surprise to learn Keaton was the one who’d painted the murals in town. He was married to the local doctor, Annie Keaton, who headed up the health clinic in Oceanside.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Give me a vanilla latte. Sixteen ounces. Make it extra-hot.”

“For Dr. Annie?”

He nodded. “She didn’t have time for breakfast this morning and I’m guessing her blood sugar is low right about now.”

“You got it.” I recognized the order. Keaton wasn’t a latte kind of man. He liked a double shot of espresso and baked goods. Especially my Danish, but he was equally fond of my cinnamon rolls.

Business slowed until lunchtime. My sandwiches made with homemade bread were a popular item. With only a few tables available, most of my business was takeout. I’d recently expanded our luncheon menu, and sales were picking up.

    When business slowed again in midafternoon, I took a break and went for a short walk along the beach. I tried to do that as often as time afforded. With a hectic work schedule, I needed to breathe in the fresh air and center myself. The seagulls squawked as they soared overhead, carried by the wind. Although it was only mid-June, the sunshine shone down on me, relaxing the tense muscles of my shoulders, easing my worries.

The ocean had always been my solace. The sound of the waves as they crashed against the shore reverberated in my head, offering me a peaceful contentment. I once heard it explained that being near the ocean, with the surf and the swirling waters, was like being tucked inside a mother’s womb. I wasn’t sure if that was scientific or not, but in some ways, it made sense. The rhythm of the tides, the predictability of it all, offers reassurance and a certain sense of security.

I’d badly needed that, especially when Harper had been deathly ill. The long months of fighting cancer had taken a toll on my sister. On all of us. I thanked God every day that she’d survived. Still, the threat that the leukemia might return hung over our heads like a dark, threatening storm cloud.

I closed my eyes and let the wind buffet my face. Even though Harper had been cancer-free for three years, I worried. I couldn’t help it. My sister was everything to me and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Lately, I had this feeling, this sense that things weren’t as they should be with her.





CHAPTER 2





Willa


Once I was back at the apartment, the feeling about Harper refused to leave me. Reaching for my phone, I sent my brother a text, asking him to call when it was convenient. I brewed myself a cup of tea and waited.

Thankfully, he responded almost immediately.

“Hey,” Lucas said, “I got your message. What’s up?”

Now that I had my brother on the phone, I wasn’t sure where to start. Getting right to the point, I blurted out, “I’m worried about Harper.”

My brother snorted. “When are you not worried about Harper?”

I knew he’d react this way. Lucas became the rock of our family when our father crumbled. I would much rather have had this talk with Dad, but I knew he would freak out. Dad was incapable of handling negative news without reaching for a bottle. His sobriety was shaky at best, and I didn’t want to give him an excuse to drink.

    “Did you know Harper’s planning to climb Mount Rainier this summer?”

Lucas took the news calmly. “Cool. If anyone can make it to the summit, it’s Harper.”

He was right—however, that wasn’t the issue. “I agree, but this follows the bungee jump she did two weeks ago.”

“And your point is?”

“I don’t know what my point is,” I confessed, “except this adventurous behavior has all come about in the last few weeks. It seems out of the blue, you know?” Lucas was probably right, and I was making more of this than necessary. Still, it was concerning. He was also right about me fretting over Harper. I couldn’t help myself.

“Listen, Willa, I get it. When someone comes that close to death, I think they have a certain fire within them to make the most of a second chance. To her way of thinking, these are bonus years and she’s squeezing as much out of life as possible while she can. I don’t blame her; I’d probably do the same thing.”

“She ate fried bugs.” I cringed as I said it.

“Harper? She won’t eat green beans.”

Despite my concern about our little sister, I laughed out loud. “I know, I couldn’t believe it either. She went to this Indonesian restaurant in Seattle with one of her friends and fried bugs were on the menu, and she went for it.”

“She survived.”

Lucas was right. “I know what you’re saying, and I agree, but mountain-climbing and bungee-jumping? You and I both know how afraid of heights she is, and yet she made herself do it. Leesa told me Harper was so afraid she threw up before she jumped.” My sister seemed to be facing her greatest fears and I didn’t understand what was driving her, especially now. What if she knew something I didn’t? That possibility had thrown me into a tailspin. When I mentioned this to Lucas, the phone went silent. “Did you ask her?”