Unexpected Arrivals(35)
“Wait, you’re not just going to the party and going home?”
“It’s a weekend of festivities, Cora,” I mimicked my mother’s voice.
“How long are you staying?” she shrieked as though she’d be dragged along.
“Unless I cut the trip short, I’m leaving Wednesday morning.”
“It’s only Thursday, James. Are you insane? There’s no way you’ll survive five days in that house. Please tell me you’re staying in a hotel.”
“Where on Geneva Key would you suggest I find a hotel, Cora?” The laugh came unexpectedly, yet it felt good. I’d missed these kinds of conversations with her—the ones that went on endlessly about nothing where we’d both forgotten why we’d called to start with.
“Maybe they’ve built one by now.”
“Yeah, right next to the Walmart and McDonald’s.”
“It could happen.”
“There’s no way in hell with the money floating around in that town the citizens will ever let the conglomerates take over.”
“Do you want to go back?” Her tone was introspective, and had she not just been on some tirade about France, I’d wonder if she longed to return. Then again, as it stood in her mind, anything was better than where she was.
“For good?”
“Yeah. I always thought you’d find your way home. Geneva Key suited you.”
“It suits old people who smell like wealth.”
“At some point, the tides will turn. Our grandparents’ generation will pass away, and a new one will take over.”
“Yeah, our parents who will replace them and reminisce about a time when things were different, and youngsters were more respectful. It’s a cycle, Cora. There will always be an older generation spearheading that island until we are that generation.” The miles kept passing as I cruised toward the destination in question.
“Maybe not, time could weed them out. And just like every other beach-front community, younger people seek refuge until they overtake it.”
“Except there’s nothing there to appeal to anyone who still has color in their hair.”
“All it takes is one. One person to bring something in that appeals to others. You should think about that.”
“Think about what?”
“Being that one person.”
“This conversation has gone so far off course, I don’t even remember where we started.” I knew exactly where it began—her hating France and my desperate attempt to convince her to come home…ten months early.
“That’s okay. It served its purpose. You cheered me up and got my mind off how much I miss the US and wish I were home…well, until I just thought about it. Now I want to be back in the States again.”
I didn’t need to tell her “I told you so,” because she already knew she’d made a mistake. This wasn’t something I could fix or even ease her frustration of—she’d chosen a path away from me, and until she returned, there wasn’t anything I could do other than lend her an ear. Although, if she asked me to come see her, to spend time with her, I doubted I could say no. Since that request hadn’t come in the fourteen months she’d been there, I didn’t expect it to come in the next ten.
“Any idea what your mom has planned?”
I’d zoned out and had no idea if she’d said anything in the past couple minutes other than the last sentence she’d just uttered.
“Not a clue. Torturing me might be the main event…you never know.”
“You’re so melodramatic. Besides, they’d never do that in public—it might tarnish their image. Do you think my grandmother will be there?”
The laugh that escaped my mouth broke through the words I spoke. “How would I know? She’s your family; has she mentioned it?”
“The monthly newsletter hasn’t come out yet, but it wasn’t in the Fourth of July edition.” The levity in her tone tugged at my heart.
God, I missed her.
“I’ll tell you if she signs the guest book.”
“Oh, oh, better yet. FaceTime me and then walk up to her with your phone in your hand. That will freak my grandmother out, and she’ll spend the next hour talking about how inconsiderate technology users are. It’ll be fantastic, and you can keep me live so I can witness it—it’ll be just like I’m there.”
This was the lightest I’d heard her since we’d started chatting again. The gaiety in her voice and the playfulness of her suggestion had a grin plastered to my face.
“I might take you up on that.”
“Don’t you dare!” Her gasp rang through the phone as though the air had just breezed right by my ear. I could almost feel the warmth of her words meeting my skin while I waited for her lips to follow. “Gwendolyn would disown me. It’d be a disgrace to the Chase name.”
I couldn’t quite tell if she’d gone serious or was continuing this charade of giving a shit what her grandmother thought. My best guess was she couldn’t even recall the last time she’d talked to her. There was a tiny piece of me that felt sorry for Gwendolyn Chase. She’d tried over the years to make amends with Cora, yet the little spitfire had refused her advances and kept her at arm’s length.