“If they’re retired, they might stay for more than the season,” I point out, unzipping my wetsuit a little more so I can adjust the strap on my bikini top.Wouldn’t want to accidentally flash a nipple.Not that anyone here would care.
If my new neighbors stay, that means I could be gaining some lifelong customers.
Maybe I should bring them a housewarming gift when they arrive.Some of Mrs.Norton’s blueberry muffins and a couple of travel mugs.
Advertisinganda snack.
“Well, girls.It’s been fun, but I’m going back to bed.”Lola throws an arm around my shoulders and lets her head drop against mine for a split second before pushing to her feet.
“Wait!”Willow rises into tree poses.“You need to make a wish.”
Lola drops her face with a groan.“We’re not kids anymore, Wills.”
“But it’s tradition,” she pouts.
For as long as I can remember, the three of us have been making wishes to the ferry gods.It started when Willow’s mother got sick.We all came down to the beach, found the prettiest shells, and tossed them back into the sea while making the same wish.
Three days later, Willow’s mom made a miraculous recovery.
We’ve been doing it every year since.
Sometimes our wishes come true, like the year I bought the café.
Other years, they go unanswered.
Doesn’t stop us from making them.
Willow, Lola, and I grab the shells we each brought and carry them down to the edge of the sea.Willow holds hers against her chest, then launches it out into the waves.I close my eyes, make a wish, and then chuck mine as far as I can.Lola grumbles the whole time, but she throws hers in as well.
Maybe this is the year the ferry gods finally deliver what I really want.
We all make our way up to where our stuff is piled in the sand.
Lola gathers her sheet, shoes, and purse, smacks Willow on the ass, and stomps through the sand to her vintage black Mustang.
She’ll sleep the day away and roll out of bed in time for her next shift at the Sand Dollar.I don’t know how she stays up all night bartending.My body rises and falls with the sun.Always has.Even when I was little, I was the first kid to get to school and the first to fall asleep at sleepovers.
I fill my lungs with one more deep breath of salty air before collecting my surfboard.“You need a ride home?”I ask Willow.
“Nah.”Dropping to her knees, she picks up something from the sand.Another shell.She turns it over in her fingers, examining it more closely.“I’ll meet you at Mugs in a few hours.”
With happiness in my heart and sand between my toes, I tuck my surfboard beneath my arm and head across the soft sand toward my Volkswagen Cabriolet.
The black and yellow bumper sticker on the back never fails to make me feel better.
It’s a good day.
Whoever made it was right.
Today is a very good day.
There’s justenough time to swing by my place to rinse the salt and sand from my skin, twist my sun-bleached hair into a braid, and change into my T-shirt and favorite jean shorts before work.
What I didn’t allow for is finding my front passenger tire flat as a freaking pancake.Looks like sand wasn’t the only thing I brought back with me from the beach.Screw you, nail in my tire.
Do I have a spare?Nope.I lent it to Pam last month and haven’t gotten the thing back.
Looks like I’m riding my bike to work.
