People tend to think forever love’s going to happen without effort. The soulmate effect. Since there is one perfect person for me, then I am naturally perfect for that person. That’s usually when reality crashes down and says, hold on there, missy. It ain’t that simple.
The slender snipe eel knows what it really means to be in a relationship. The male of this snaky family possesses a unique, bird-like beak. When it’s time for him to find a mate, his mouth shortens, his teeth fall out, and his nose expands (to sniff out the ladies). He not only changes for love, but transforms into someone quite different than he was before. Forever love isn’t so much finding the person who will fit you best, but finding the person worth hefty transformations.
I needed to be more like the slender snipe eel, in regards to Sam, the island, and the store. I had to be ready to make changes in my life, clean out the drawers of my old life to make way for new and better things, if I ever expected forever love. But, the transformation wasn’t easy going. I kept getting in the way.
I followed up my visit to Sadie’s with a plethora of errands. Back at Beach Read, Henry had gratefully busied himself giving the new/used chairs and tables I’d purchased a good cleaning. The counter was already donning the freshly washed teacups, pots, and saucers. Sam was on the ladder, draping the lacy doily-type material I’d bought along with white twinkle lights along the spiral staircase.
“Gosh, boys,” I smiled, “maybe I should make myself scarce more often.”
“All in a day’s work, my lady,” Henry returned. He had trimmed his beard neatly to the chin. His hair, he’d slicked back, and I realized quite happily that he was practicing his Poirot look.
Sam descended the ladder and gave me a kiss. “Wanted to help out with a few things before I had to go,” he told me. “I took the clean tables and chairs up to the roof. That’s where you wanted them, right?”
“Precisely.”
Sam smiled. “I also added a little something special up there. Hope you like it.”
“I’m intrigued,” I grinned. “Show me?” Sam nodded, but didn’t take me up to the roof until he’d put the ladder and leftover fabric and lights away in the storage closet.
On the way up the stairs, I asked, “Did Molly Tubbs report a home invasion?”
“Home invasion?” Sam repeated. “No. Last call we got from her was the Backwoods Buddy situation.”
“Huh, I wonder why she didn’t report such a violent crime,” I returned, more to myself.
Sam smirked. “Really? That’s a tad hypocritical, don’t you think?”
I huffed. “Okay, okay. I get your point, but she wasn’t shy in dealing with the police in the lost load incident.”
Sam smiled as we climbed the last of the stairs. “In my experience, people who don’t report crimes are either too traumatized or have something to hide themselves.”
The rooftop was nicely arranged with dining sets, all mismatched, of course, but that’s how I wanted it – like an eclectic, outside diner in Paris. Around the perimeter of the roof, Sam had installed four posts at the corners that held up strings of white lights that crisscrossed over the roof and bordered the ledge.
“Wasn’t sure how many lights you wanted,” he explained, “but thought the posts would give us the ability to hang anything: lanterns, twinkle lights, annoying relatives, whatever.” We both laughed.
“It’s perfect,” I ogled dreamily. “Who would’ve thought you could make a blacktop roof seem almost romantic?”
Sam wrapped his arms around me, and said, “Don’t need lights for that.” He planted a kiss on my forehead, then my lips. It felt like we were dancing.
“Wish you didn’t have to go,” I admitted.
“Wish I never had to go,” he returned.
“I was thinking about something,” I said, hesitantly. He pulled back a little, but still held on to my waist. “I’ve been kind of reluctant to bring it up, especially considering how little free time you have and how much you do for me already-”
“What is it? I’d do anything for you,” he urged, with a look that said I was being ridiculous.
I shrugged. “Well, considering the way my life’s been here so far, not that I expect it to continue as roughly as it’s begun or at least, I hope the worst is over-”
“Are we talking about the store?” he prodded.
I shook my head. “No, I’m referring to Psycho Adventures starring Delilah Duffy, three episodes and counting. I need to be more adaptable, more prepared-”
“Want me to teach you how to use a gun?” he suggested quickly, as though he’d already given the matter a deal of thought. I winced.
“No,” I shot back, “I don’t like guns, Sam. I mean, obviously I like that you have one, but they aren’t for me. I can barely use my phone. Imagine how stupid I’d be with something that could hurt people.”
“You’d be fine,” he insisted with more confidence than was reasonable.
“I’d like to learn self-defense,” I spat out like it had been a glob of peanut butter stuck in my throat. “I don’t like asking-”
“That’s part of your problem,” Sam cut in, a soft smile on his face. “I wish you’d ask me to help you more often. I’d be happy to teach you some ass-kicking skills. Let’s start Sunday, after church.”
“That implies actually going to church,” I huffed.
“Yes,” Sam returned, “you can’t avoid your family forever. You haven’t been to bingo, church, or family dinners in ages-”
“Do you blame me?”
“No, I get it,” he said, “but are you really going to let them control you? Besides, you’ve earned some bragging rights now. After Saturday, you’re going to be the talk of the town, in a good way. Why not rub it in a little?”
I shrugged, and said, “Okay, we’ll go to church and have a good family face-off. I’m sure God’ll love it. And afterwards, you can teach me to beat people up.”
He laughed. “It’s a plan.”
Soon, Sam left the island to head to his mysterious adventures in Fayetteville with his army buddy, Mason Cook. I returned to the store to find Henry finishing up the last of the chairs.
“A message for you, dear,” he said, pointing to a slip of paper on the counter, “but you might be wise to disregard it.”
I grabbed the slip of paper, and cast Henry an inquisitive look. The Peacock. Room 304. “Who is this from?”
“Wouldn’t say,” Henry returned, “and he didn’t sound familiar.”
A strange call for me to meet at the Peacock? It could only mean one thing – someone had information concerning the night of the party and the redheaded woman. As I Jeeped over to the inn, Sam’s words crashed down on me. Please don’t go back to the Peacock again. I fiddled with my necklace, reconsidering. I pulled out my phone, and got as far as the menu screen before I tossed it in the passenger seat. Sam was on his way to Fayetteville to take care of business he couldn’t tell me about, so why should I be so inclined to spill all to him? It would only spawn a fight – him telling me not to do it, and me insisting that I had to – so why go through all the drama? A chance to prove to myself that I wasn’t crazy trumped any transformations tonight.