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They were wandering around the boardwalk when Anne let out a gasp. Derek, trying to stay by her side, but constantly was being pulled away by the excitable Isa, happened to be the only person who heard her.
“What is it?”
“The art supply shop,” she breathed. “It’s still here.”
Shaking his head, Derek couldn’t figure out why she was so surprised. “Of course it is. Haven’t you been back since...” he trailed off. “You said you come here every year.”
“I’ve avoided the boardwalk,” she admitted. “Too many memories. I spent most of my time down at the beach at the dunes. Sketching.”
“We should go back there,” he softly suggested.
“Derek! Anne!” Isa called out to them from three shops away. “What are you looking at?”
“An art supply store!” Anne called back, not looking away from the window.
Leaning forward he suggested, “We could go inside. I doubt they’ll follow us.”
“They could leave us,” she pointed out.
“We brought your car with us, remember. Since all seven of us couldn’t fit in Charles’ SUV.”
“I can’t believe that James has been coming with us everywhere.”
“I can,” Derek stated. “It gets him out of the Harville’s house. Apparently, last summer, he came down with Francine to announce her pregnancy.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “He’s lost so much.”
“And staying with Bee and Frank’s children isn’t as easy on him as he’ll admit.”
“Then why does he stay?”
“He doesn’t have any more family. Frank and Bee are it.”
Glancing down towards Isa, Anne noticed that James was keeping her company. “That is something I never would have expected to see.”
“What were you talking about last night?”
“Books,” Anne sighed sadly. “He found out that one of my minors is English and he was asking me a million questions about my student teaching placement and the books that I’ve read and taught and...” she trailed off, rolling her eyes. “He kept talking about gothic and other dark stories. Your friend is terrified that he is going to die alone.”
“Aren’t we all,” Derek jokingly nudged Anne in the side where the others wouldn’t notice. “We can disappear right now. We have your car keys so we won’t get stranded. I know you want to go in here.”
“It’s been six years,” she sighed. “I wonder if the old owners still run the place.”
“Only one way to find out.” With a hand on her lower back, Derek guided her into the store.
Looking up from where she was doodling on some paper, the owner looked up and started grinning. “I remember you two!”
Pulled back, Anne’s brow furrowed. “How? It’s been six years.”
“Sweetheart,” the owner cooed, “I’d remember that mop of hair anywhere. And those blue eyes,” she sighed, looking at Derek. “He kept playing with your hair when you were outside the window before stealing your ponytail holder.”
Turning to look at Derek, Anne laughed, “You still owe me like forty ponytail holders.”
“You never wear them anymore,” he protested.
“I do when I’m creating.”
Sighing, the owner grinned. “I hoped you two lasted. I told my husband, ‘If they don’t make it, there is something wrong in the world.”
“Actually,” Anne cleared her throat. “We broke up five years ago.”
“I proposed and she said no.”
“I was eighteen,” Anne protested, giving him a slight shove.
The owner’s face had fallen as soon as Anne told her about the breakup, started grinning again as she watched them. She made a prediction right then and there. “That is a bit young,” she conceded. “But you are both here now. What can I do for you?”
Derek watched as Anne’s gaze wandered over to the back of the room where the sketchbooks were still displayed. He hadn’t seen her with a sketchbook in her hands ever since the trip started. “You left your sketchbook at home, didn’t you?”
“Derek,” Anne sighed. “You should have noticed that I haven’t draw anything outside of class assignments for a long time.” Looking over at the owner, she explained. “When I first got on campus, I’d sit outside and people watch, sketching what I saw between classes. But once my classwork started getting busier, I had to prioritize my time.”
Looking at her, it began to make sense why he’d never seen her sketching out her nephews. Granted, he allowed, she was usually busy taking care of her nephews. It would be difficult to do both things at once. But he felt sad that those boys would never have a sketch from their aunt of their younger years.
“But you have plenty of time this week,” Derek pointed out.
Lips pursed in thought, Anne nodded her head. Heading towards the pencils, she started to browse her options. There was plenty in her bank account to allow a small splurge that would not be connected to her school supply budget.
These pencils were too good to be taken to the high school. She had no doubt that they would likely end up in her supervising teacher’s pencil mug and there would be nothing she could do about it.
Derek, nodding his head in satisfaction, went to the back wall where the sketchbooks were kept. Glancing around, he hoped for a book similar to the blue one he had bought her six years ago. Instead, there were only black books on display.
“They are on backorder,” the owner whispered to him. “This black one is similar to that blue one you had bought.”
“You really do remember us!” he quietly exclaimed.
“Of course I do.” Handing him a black book to examine, she made certain to open it. “Feel.”
Glancing over at Anne, he checked to see that she was still distracted before he ran his fingers over the page. The texture took him back to the memory of when Anne was explaining to him why she liked her pages a little less than perfectly smooth. “I’ll take it,” he whispered.
Heading towards the cashier stand, he waited for Anne to join him.
Isa, her timing perfect as always, burst into the store, James in tow, and shouted, “Derek! Anne! There you are! Hurry up! Mary got tired and Charles already left with her and Etta. We’re gonna go swimming at the pool since the beach has been so crowded and then go to dinner.”
“I just need to pay for these pencils,” Anne stated.
“We’ll meet you at the car,” Derek added, mostly looking at James.
Nodding his head, James nudged her towards the door as she started to pout. “Come on. It’ll only take a moment.”
“Can we stop for ice cream?” Isa asked him as they started out the door.
“No ice cream in my car!” Anne called out after them, placing her pencils on the counter and taking a few steps in their direction.
While Anne was distracted by the threat of melted ice cream in her car, Derek handed over his card. Once she turned back around, Anne scowled at him. “I can pay for my own art supplies,” she hissed at him. “I’m not as bad off financially as my father.”
“I know,” he answered her. “I’ve been watching you and you have a good head on your shoulders. Better than your sisters, at least.” Handing over the bag with the book and pencils inside, he waited.
“I take after my mother,” she whispered, feeling the weight of the bag in her hands. “What did you do?” Opening the bag, she noticed the book. “Oh, Derek,” she sighed softly. “Another one?”
“Of course,” he whispered. “As soon as this trip is over with, we are going public.” Forcing her to make eye contact, instead of looking into the bag like she really wanted to, Derek noted the jumbled emotions in her eyes. “I can’t keep quiet for the sake of Charles and Isa any longer.”
“I can go along with that plan,” she whispered back.
The owner, shamelessly listening to them with her elbows propped on the counter and her face in her hands, sighed. “I knew it.”
Turning towards her, they laughed.
“But why wait?” she asked them.
“We have a twelve-hour car ride back home,” Derek explained as Anne went back to smiling at the black sketchbook in her bag.
