Bottom line, it didn’t matter. If she’d misread the signals, if she was wrong about the romantic-fling potential, tonight would still be an incredible meal with an attractive, interesting man.
She needed more of that in her life.
Especially after Jackson’s sudden appearance a few weeks ago.
“He’s not here now. He’s gone and forgotten. I am safe and happy.” She quietly repeated the brief sentences over and overuntil she was completely distracted with the discarded fabric. Far more material than she expected, these scraps would be a fabulous addition to her supply stash.
Miles was so thoughtful. And he had the sweetest family. She’d have to come up with some special thank-you gift.
For now, she sent him a thank-you text and then stuffed her tote with as much of the material as possible. She’d need to return with the car to get it all. Her mind raced with one idea after another, settling on the perfect project: sailing knots made from sail cloth. How fun would that be? Her next art class—a high school group—was old enough to appreciate the irony as well as the artistry.
After jotting a few notes to herself in the app she kept just for ideas, she tucked her phone away. Her gaze drifted toward the eastern horizon where the sun inched higher, reaching for the sky. The colors were soft and inviting today. Irresistible. As the loveliest sense of peace wound around her, she sat down to soak up the view and enjoy the moment.
Time was precious and she refused to ignore beauty when it was right there in front of her.
She was alone, but not lonely. Soon enough, the shops behind her would open and students would arrive for paddleboard or sailing lessons. Her hands absently toyed with the sail cloth as she let her mind wander through so many memories. Her mother’s indulgent smile, her dad teaching them to build a fire on the beach. Building sandcastles with her sisters. Riding a champagne high and dancing into the wee hours at Celeste’s wedding.
Standing between Veronica and their parents at the graveside service for her brother-in-law less than two years later. Blinking, she swiped a tear from her cheek. She still hadn’t quite forgiven the universe for widowing Celeste. The two of them hadbeen wildly happy together. They should’ve had decades filled with love and adventures and children.
Her own wedding had been a quick trip to the courthouse followed by shock and disappointment. She’d been impatient, doggedly chasing the kind of true happiness that couldn’t be rushed. Didn’t help that she’d pinned her hopes on a con artist who couldn’t find the truth with a searchlight.
She wondered if Veronica avoided serious commitment because of Celeste’s tragedy and Natalie’s cautionary tale. It couldn’t be easy to be the middle sister, caught between the perceptions of older-sister perfection and baby-sister flightiness.
Natalie shoved to her feet. That was enough memory lane for today. She couldn’t change the past and she sure couldn’t change public opinion of the Hargrave sisters. Dwelling on what she couldn’t control was a waste of her valuable time.
Closing her eyes, she tipped her face to the sun and forced her mind back to the sailing knot idea. Per the usual, the idea was already evolving into something different. One idea sparking the next. This time the idea was becoming deeper. More significant. What if she worked the sailcloth into something that symbolized family ties? Strong bonds that held through both the highs and lows. The strands of living that, once woven together, became the true and secure lifeline for a family.
Her heart should’ve been lighter, here in this beautiful, peace-filled morning. She didn’t enjoy drifting into this grim headspace. There was no reason to be floundering through the murky grief of her mom’s death or her frustration with her dad’s coping methods. His prolonged absence prickled under her skin like a rash that flared up at the worst times, refusing to be soothed by any treatment.
She pulled out her phone once more and without a care for time zones—she didn’t even know where he was living these days—she called him.
It went to voicemail. Naturally. “Hey!” She pumped some cheeriness into her voice. “Just thinking about you. And the holidays. Um. Y’know they’ll be here before we know it. The three of us will be here in Brookwell at Veronica’s house.” She assumed. They hadn’t actually settled on anything at this point. “You could come and, um, we could build new memories.” Hearing the bitterness creeping in, she stopped herself. “Love you, bye.”
She convinced herself she’d ended the message on a happier note. And if not, no biggie. She’d long ago given up on having any influence over the man she’d once idolized. Her alarm went off, reminding her to get over to the gallery. She’d been invited to add two pieces for a holiday showcase in Raleigh, North Carolina. Plus, the dark sculpture she’d begun was poking at her, making her fingers itch to dig in and create.
Juggling her over-stuffed tote and the phone, some of the sail cloth escaped her tote. Caught in the breeze, the pieces tumbled down toward the water like kite tails with a mind of their own. Natalie gave chase, refusing to relinquish her prize. She stepped on one length and gathered it in, but the second piece was determined to escape. Fortunately, when it tangled with the railing on the dock, she nabbed it.
“I win!” Laughing at herself, she secured the fabric once more.
“Natalie?”
She swiveled around. “Hey, good morning, Corey.”
He gave her a nod. “Morning.”
Corey Benson worked at the marina’s repair shop. He wasn’t usually around this end of the dock unless he was working onsomething with Miles. Usually quick with an easy smile, he was tense, his lips set in a hard line. “You feeling okay, Corey?”
“You’re out early,” he said, ignoring her query.
“I am.” She smiled, but he clearly wasn’t in his usual good mood. No problem. She subtly backed away, giving him space. They weren’t close friends, and she’d never been afraid of him or picked up any bad vibes. She swung the overflowing tote over her shoulder. “Miles set aside all this sail cloth for me.”
A hint of Corey’s typical friendliness warmed his dark eyes. “You sure do turn trash into treasure.”
“Thank you.” The sculptures that were now permanent installations around town had been well-received. “I’ve already got plans for this, so I’d better get to it.”
“That’s good. I won’t keep you.” The relief in his voice was obvious. And almost as unsettling as his initial tension.
She hustled back up to her bike and started pedaling away as casually as possible. Glancing back, she noticed Corey had continued down to the end of the dock. Strange. Until she caught a glimpse of a red kayak. Most likely someone had been stranded and called the marina maintenance shop for help.
