“You didn’t tell her about Dewey Beach?” Kayla said.
“No,” Julie said, watching Marie Simmons’s retreating form. An ordinary woman would have looked silly walking down Main Street in a dress and furry house slippers, but not Marie. She looked like a woman on a mission.
“Did you tell anyone else?”
Julie thought back. “No . . . just the bartender.”
“Maybe he called her,” Aggie said, then frowned. “But why would he do that?”
“Maybe he knew I wouldn’t give up and he warned her to be on the lookout. She lives right next door.”
“But why would it matter?” asked Aggie. “Why wouldn’t they want you to find Lucky or his house?”
“The same thing I’ve been wondering since we got here.”
“I don’t get it,” Kayla persisted. “Somebody has to know where he is. It’s like the whole town is conspiring to keep us from finding him.”
“Maybe he told them he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” Julie supposed he had every right. She’d pretty much cut him off without an explanation.
She hadn’t meant for it to be so final. Had she?
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Aggie said. “He was always there for us.”
Not always, thought Julie. And a memory came back to hit her hard in the face. The first time he’d let her down. She was eight and she’d run down to the basement to remind him of the father-daughter square dance that night only to find his gear—and Uncle Lucky—gone.
His red bandanna, one of two her mother had bought them special for the occasion, made it all the worse, and she crumpled it in her hand. She would have torn it to pieces if she’d had the strength. She dropped it on the floor and ran upstairs to her room.
Her mother waylaid her on the stairs. “I’ll go with you.”
“I’m not going.”
“He couldn’t help it.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She did go to the square dance. Aggie’s and Kayla’s fathers stepped in to save the day. Fathers did that, Julie guessed. Friends did that. Uncles didn’t.
Although her friends’ fathers tried to fill the void left by Lucky, she’d hardly danced at all that night. She couldn’t dance, couldn’t remember the steps, even though they’d been practicing them in music class. She was using all her concentration to keep the tears at bay.
It had been the first of many disappointments.
“Julie?”
Julie started. “What?”
Kayla was looking at her with concern. “What do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should try harder.”
“Because you’re worried about him?”
“Not really. It’s like him to come and go at will. Mom’s been worrying about him for as long as I can remember, and nothing has happened to him yet. Maybe we should just forget it and go on to Dewey. I just don’t want her to have to cut her first-ever sort-of vacation short because he’s inconsiderate.”
“And she will,” Aggie said. “You want to keep trying?”
Lucky may have been a rolling stone, and he may have been indiscriminate—her mother’s word—with his friends and protégés, but he was a good man at heart. Also her mother’s words.
Julie shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I should come back, but I don’t want you guys to miss another day of vacation. What would we learn that we don’t already know? But if I don’t, what do I say to Mom? I promised I’d call her tonight.”
Kayla frowned. “What’s going on with you? You never have trouble making decisions. You must have apologized to us ten times today for taking this detour. If you’re that worried about Uncle Lucky, we’ll drive back tomorrow and canvass the town until we find someone who’ll talk.”
“I—I just—” Julie bit her lip. Just what? Wanted everything to work out like she’d envisioned and it hadn’t. She ended with a shrug.
“Maybe we should discuss this over a drink,” said Kayla.
“Or dinner,” said Aggie. “It’s getting late.”
“Okay,” Julie said, “but first let’s take Dougie back to the bar, and I’ll call the motel and tell them we’re going to be late. Then dinner’s on me.”
Marie Simmons made it halfway down the next block before she realized she’d left the cottage wearing house shoes and without her purse. She’d panicked. She’d seen Julie Barlow peering in Lucky’s windows and she’d panicked.
Marie picked up her pace. They’d just have to put up with her house shoes. If she went back home to change, she’d be late. As it was she would be early, and the last thing she wanted was time on her hands.
She strode forward, trying not to worry about Lucky’s niece showing up unannounced.
She hesitated in front of Darinda’s Luncheonette, peered in the window. It was closed for the day, but she could see Darinda and her three boys scrubbing the counters and booths. They worked hard, and if the diner cuisine was a little heavy on the curry, no one had complained yet.
Darinda looked up, waved, said something to her eldest, Vihaan. He turned his mop over to one of his younger brothers and disappeared into the kitchen. Darinda hurried over to unlock the door.
“He just has to take out the trash and he’ll be right with you. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?”
“No thanks, but I will sit down.”
“Please.” Darinda hurried away.
Marie slid into the closest booth where she could watch the sidewalk. Tried to steady her nerves. Face it, she told herself. You’re getting soft.
Well, that was what retirement was about, wasn’t it? Living a schedule-free life, enjoying the peace and quiet of the shore, and sliding gracefully into old age.
Ha. The reappearance of Tony “Lucky” Costa had put paid to that. He’d needed a favor that she was in a position to give. He’d showed up and he never left.
And in the ten years that had passed, this little corner of the beach had become Lucky’s Beach. Actually, he had swept into town, and the locals, most of them anyway, had collected to him like iron shavings to a magnet. A bunch of retirees with time on their hands, teenagers with too much energy on their hands, the lost, the found, the clueless—it didn’t matter to Lucky.
Then one June, Les arrived. Scatter came a few months later. Others began to spend their summers here, even though the surfing was middling.
It wasn’t about the waves or the surfing.
There was something magic about Lucky, though he’d laugh himself silly to hear her say so. She’d recognized that the first summer they’d met, when he’d sneaked into her family’s stall on the boardwalk and motioned for her to meet him outside.
“I’m a surfer,” he said as soon as they were well away from the stall. “Is it true what they said about your mama? Can she really know the future?”
“So can I.” Marie had read his cards that night, sitting cross-legged on the sand in the moonlight. They’d been ten. And she knew then that their fate was sealed.
They became inseparable—the three of them, because though Louise didn’t approve of Marie, she was already the self-designated guardian of her brother. And consequently jealous of Marie and afraid that she would steal him away like a baby in the night.
The only time he was ever free was when he was riding the waves—Louise was afraid of sharks—or when he’d sneak out after everyone was in bed and he and Marie would spend hours talking on the beach.
Marie’s family didn’t like him. Beach bum, they called him. He’ll never amount to anything, said the people who worked from a derelict wooden storefront on a beach that had seen better days and clientele.
It was a total lie, of course. Tony Costa could do just about anything he set his mind to, except help the ones he cared for most.
Marie had been sitting in a diner booth just like this one when he’d left to follow the sun, the summer they were eighteen.
Louise had burst into the diner. “This is your fault!”
“Mine?” Marie said. “You’re crazy.” He’d left Marie, too, but she’d seen it coming for a long time, and she hadn’t needed a crystal ball to understand.
Louise dropped into the opposite banquette. “How could he leave me?” she cried. “Surfing. He might as well have run off to join the circus.”
Marie agreed. And if she didn’t do something soon, she’d be stuck in the sideshow that was her future forever.
By the time Louise had finally calmed down enough to go home, Marie had made a decision. A few days later, with all her worldly goods stuffed into a backpack, she climbed out the window and joined the world.
She hadn’t seen Tony or his sister for years after.
Marie had done her share of good in the years since. And some questionable things. Most days she thought the good outweighed the bad.
But there were others when she didn’t know if she’d done any good at all, if she’d helped make the world a better place or a worse one.
That’s why people have children, her good friend and colleague Alice would tell her. So there will be a next generation to keep up the fight when we get too tired.
Well, Marie was tired. She didn’t want to think about fighting—not for justice, much less for the future.
That’s why she was waiting for Vihaan. He was the next generation. And he also aspired to do more than work in the family luncheonette. Marie glanced back to where Darinda was folding towels to be laundered and wondered if she had any idea what was in her son’s head. Or if he would ever be able to take that chance and leave the family business behind.
Vihaan burst through the kitchen door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, and hurried over to meet Marie.
Darinda let them out, casting one quick glance at Marie. Marie smiled her reassurances. Vihaan’s future would have to work itself out in time.
At the moment she had a problem much closer to home.
Julie, Aggie, and Kayla started down the sidewalk back toward the beach. Dougie plodded alongside Julie, his body knocking her off-balance with every other step.
“Wow, would you look at that?” Aggie said.
The parking lot had filled considerably in their absence. Kayla’s SUV was still there, but now it was surrounded by other cars and motorcycles. The music was pumping. Julie could hear the buzz of conversations and laughter coming from the cabana at the beach side of the bar.
Dougie stood perfectly still, looking up at Julie.
“Yep, this is where you and I part company. It’s been swell. You guys coming?”
“We’ll wait here,” Aggie said, perusing the beach.
Julie went up the steps and opened the door. Dougie shoved her aside and squeezed through ahead of her.
“Just like a man,” Julie said.
“Ain’t it the truth,” said a buxom brunette wearing a lace beach cover-up and high heels. “I’m leaving that one”—she nodded toward a skinny guy laughing with his buddies at the bar—“to figure out the meaning of life. Before I make his shorter, if you know what I mean.”
Julie was afraid she might.
The temperature had dropped by double-digit degrees. Lucky’s was air-conditioned, at least during happy hour. And boy, was it happy. The din was close to deafening.
Dougie disappeared into the crowd, and Julie headed to the bar, dodging several barmaids carrying trays through the clusters of drinkers, only to be delayed when a longhaired man grabbed her around the waist and tried to steer her toward “my friends over there.”
She smiled and peeled his arm off, stumbled over Dougie, who had made a miraculous, if somewhat clumsy, appearance, and fell headlong into another guy who at least had a soft paunch to land against.
“Pardon me, I’m so sorry,” she said, rebounding off the man’s stomach.
“Any time, pretty lady, any time. Buy you a drink?”
“Thanks, but no.” She had to raise her voice to make herself heard.
She finally made it to the bar, where she managed to squeeze in between a man and a woman who were definitely on their way to something later.
“Sorry,” Julie said at the top of her voice. “I’ll just be a second.”
There were now two men working the bar. One of them was Alex/Scatter. He saw her and, true to form, turned away.
“Alex!” she called. “Alex!” she tried again, only louder. “Alex!”
Exasperated, she yelled, “Scatter!”
Two men at the end of the bar hit the floor. Several people ran for the exits.
Scatter turned around, his eyes rolled so far back in his head that only the whites showed. “Perhaps I should have warned you,” he said. “You probably shouldn’t yell my name in a crowd.”
Julie opened her mouth, but words failed her.
At least the noise level had diminished somewhat, and the waitresses continued to move through the crowd as if nothing had happened.
“I could see where that might be a problem,” she said. “Well, not to worry. I don’t think I’ll have occasion to use it again. I’ve done my duty. Tell Lucky to call his sister if he can rouse himself.”
Her sarcasm was wasted on Scatterbrain.
“What?” he said cluelessly.
“Oh, nothing. I brought your dog back.”
Dougie leaned against her, threatening them both with toppling over.
“Oh. You’re leaving? Have a nice vacation.”
“Sure. Thanks. Well, see ya . . . or not.”
She looked down at the dog. He returned her look with big, lugubrious eyes and a particularly large string of slobber.
“Dougie.”
She walked toward the door, turned back. Dougie’s head drooped.
“Oh, what the hell, you stupid old dog. I know when I’m being conned.” She walked back, squatted in front of him, and scratched the matted fur behind his ears. “See ya, Dougie.” She stood up, wiping the slobber that she hadn’t managed to avoid, and leaned over the bar. “You should really get this poor dog groomed.”
She walked quickly away without waiting for an answer, feeling the oddest sense of wanting to burst into tears. Definitely time to get to the beach and away from all responsibilities, real, imagined, or left behind.
Aggie and Kayla were standing where she’d left them.
“That was quick.”
“I just dropped off his dog. Actually, it’s Lucky’s dog.” She reached in her bag and extracted her phone. “Let me just confirm with the motel we’re coming in late, then let’s eat.”
Julie called the motel and was immediately put on hold.
They started walking back toward the street, and had almost reached the sidewalk, when a harried voice said, “Reservations.”
“This is Julie Barlow and I’m calling—” She didn’t even get to finish.
“You’re on my list to call . . .”
Julie stopped. “What list?”
“What’s happening?” Aggie mouthed.
Julie shook her head. Held up a finger. Listened. “But I booked that room three months ago.”
Kayla lifted her hands in a what-gives gesture.
“Oh, don’t worry, we will. And you’ll call me as soon as you know? Fine.” Julie ended the call. “They walked us.”
“They can’t take our room,” Kayla said. “We’re confirmed.”
“Well, they did. They have a wedding party that needed extra rooms and they’ve taken over the whole hotel. Ugh!” Julie dropped her head in her hand. “This is all my fault for making us late. And for nothing.”
“Wow!” Aggie said.
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I mean, who has a wedding at an economy motel?”
“My guess is a lot of people on a budget?”
“So do they have a plan?” asked Kayla.
“The usual. They’re very sorry and are trying to book equivalent rooms elsewhere.”
“But probably not near the beach,” said Aggie.
“Well, they aren’t exactly that close to the beach, either,” Julie said.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” said Aggie.
“A sign that my uncle has managed to screw up our vacation without even being here. No, I take that back, I should have had you drop me off here and had you go on to the hotel.”
“Oh, right, so you could be stuck here without Lucky.” Kayla frowned. “And they might have walked us anyway.”
“Maybe we could just stay here and send them the bill,” Aggie suggested.
“Is there a hotel nearby?” Kayla asked.
“I saw one downtown,” Julie said. “But it looks pretty old.”
“It is a nice beach,” Kayla said.
“And Surf’s Up is having a special on surfing lessons,” Aggie said. “Les told us when we went to ask about Lucky. I’ve always wanted to learn to surf.”
“Since when?” Julie asked.
“Since she met Les.” Kayla shrugged. “He is kinda cute. And very nice.”
“Okay, let’s go ask and then I’m taking you guys to dinner.”
“Oh, come on, Jules, none of this is your fault. But we’ll definitely have dinner and a few drinks, and you can tell us what’s been eating you lately.”
Julie smiled. Sort of. She wasn’t ready to share. She wasn’t even clear in her own mind—how could she explain it so it would make sense to her friends?
They had to move to the side when a red Jeep with a roll bar rumbled up behind them. And stopped.
“Les,” Aggie said, so brightly that Julie expected her feet to leave the ground.
“Wow. You must be Julie,” a man said from the driver’s seat. He leaned over and shook her hand. “You and Lucky have the same hair, cool. I’m Les, owner of Surf’s Up.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You guys decided to stay?”
“We might have to,” Aggie said. “We just got dumped from our room through the weekend in Dewey because of an overbooked wedding.”
“Man, that sucks. You have a place to stay?”
Julie tensed. Please do not offer us a place on your living room floor.
“I can call over to the hotel and see if they have any vacancies.” He grinned. “I have a deal rate with the owner.”
“Sure, that would be great,” said Aggie, before Julie could tell him thanks, but they were on their way there now.
He pulled out his phone, pressed speed dial. “Julie, yeah, Lucky’s niece. Yeah, sure, but I’ve got that meeting.” He smiled and held up one finger.
Two minutes later they had rooms at the Dunes Hotel.
“Wow, thanks,” Julie said.
“Think nothing of it.” He shifted into first, turned to Julie. “You surf?”
She shook her head.
“Lucky didn’t teach you to surf? I can’t believe it.”
Les had obviously never met her mother.
“Come in tomorrow at ten, all three of you. I have a free slot for a lesson. I’ll have some nice beginner boards all picked out.” He saluted. “I’ll have you riding those waves before Lucky even gets back.”
“You know where he is?”
Les’s mouth turned down. “Not a clue. See you tomorrow. I’d stay and buy you a drink, but I have a . . . someplace I need to be.” He stepped on the gas and the Jeep took off.
“Let’s go check out the hotel,” Kayla said. “If we like it, we’ll stay and call Louise tonight.”
“And then get some dinner.” Aggie clutched her already tan midriff. “I’m starving. This is gonna work out fine. And while we’re doing your duty to Louise and Uncle Lucky, we can all lie out in the sun, do beach things, and party.”
“Okay,” Kayla said. “But no selfies with surfers in compromising positions. You don’t want your photo plastered all over the internet for unsuspecting parents to see.”
“Not to worry, we got this.”
“Come on, Jules. Now you can relax and have some fun. And we’ll be here when Lucky gets back. You deserve a little fun, sun, and who knows?”
“Yep,” Julie said, and fell in step with her two friends.
Maybe losing the hotel was a sign. A time to trust her friends, reconnect with Lucky, and stop acting like not getting the leave of absence was the end of the world. She might even have time to look through the brochures of all the places she wouldn’t be going to.