“I’ve thought about it, sure.”
“I mean, from what you’ve said, you’ve been divorced a while. You’re young, well-off, smart, and educated. And... really pretty.”
“Can I hire you as my publicist?”
“I’m serious, Jenna.”
She put her cup down, sat, and covered her bare knees with her robe. “There have been some men interested in a permanent relationship with me. Some right here in Channing.”
“But?”
“But they weren’t the right ones. And I’m a woman who’s willing to wait for the real Mr. Right. Especially considering how wrong I got it the first time.”
Jack picked up his tool again. “Lizzie and I met in high school. We would’ve celebrated our seventeenth wedding anniversary this year.”
“Sounds like you found Mrs. Right on your first try.”
“I did,” he said frankly.
“I suppose that makes the loss that much harder.”
“It does. But I’ve got our kids to raise. And I have to do it right. For Lizzie.”
“And you, Jack. You’re part of the equation too.”
“And me,” he said. “I hope you find Mr. Right.”
“Me too,” said Jenna wistfully, as she stared at him.
38
Sammy turned to Jack and said, “I think it’s time to knock off. It’s almost midnight.”
“You go on. I’m just going to finish up a few things.”
They were in the lighthouse. After working most of the last three days at Anne Bethune’s house, Sammy and Jack had eaten a hasty dinner and worked another four hours on the lighthouse. They had cleared out all the wood from the collapsed stairs and assembled the scaffolding up to the top platform, which also needed repair. Fresh lumber delivered from Charles Pinckney’s hardware store was neatly stacked outside in preparation for the rebuilding process.
“Jack, you’ve put in sixteen hours today. You need to get some rest.”
“I will, Sammy. Just another thirty minutes.”
Sammy shook his head, dropped his tool belt on the lower level of the scaffolding, stretched out his aching back, and walked slowly to the Palace.
Jack tightened down some of the scaffolding supports and then climbed up to the top and stepped out onto the catwalk. What he was trying to imagine was how Lizzie the little girl would have thought of the view from up here.
“Were you scared at first, Lizzie? Did you think you might fall? Or did you love it the first time you saw it?” He stared out at the dark ocean and let the breeze wash over his face. He eyed the sky, looking for the exact spot where little Lizzie had imagined Heaven to be perched. And also where her twin sister had gone.
And now where you are, Lizzie.
Farther out to sea he could see ship lights as they slowly made their way across the water. He closed his eyes, and his thoughts carried back to that frozen cemetery four days after Christmas, when they’d laid Lizzie into the ground. She was there right now, alone, in the dark.
“Don’t, Jack,” he said. “Don’t. Nothing good will come from dwelling on that. Remember Lizzie in life. Not like that.”
He looked to his right and was surprised to see someone walking along the beach. As the person drew closer, Jack could see that it was Jenna. She was holding her sandals in one hand, slowly swinging them as she walked close to the waterline. He looked at his watch. It was nearly one in the morning. What was she doing out here?
She suddenly looked up and under the arc of moonlight saw him. She waved and started toward the rocks.
She called up to him. “Working late?”
He said, “Just finishing up a few things. Surprised to see you out.”
“I sometimes take a walk on the beach after closing down the Little Bit. Helps to relax me.” She gazed at the lighthouse. “Heard you were fixing it up.”
“Trying.” He added, “Guess it seems pretty crazy.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” she said, surprising him.
“Why?”
“I just think it’s a good idea. That’s all.” He didn’t say anything. “By the way, you did a great job on the soundproofing. Can’t hear a thing. It’s raised the quality of my life a thousand percent. And I won’t have to kill my only child.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“Well, I guess I better head back.”
Jack looked down the dark beach from where she had come. “Do you want me to walk back with you? It’s pretty dark out there.”
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s a safe place. And you look like you have some thinking to do still.”
Before he could say anything, she’d turned and walked off. He slowly climbed back down the scaffolding. When he touched bottom, he passed through the doorway and then turned and looked at the hand-painted sign.
“I’m going to get it working,” he said. “Lizzie, I promise that this light will work again. And then you can look down from Heaven and see it.”
And maybe see me.
39
“Oh, great,” said Mikki. It was Saturday night and she was at the beach party Blake Saunders had invited her to. There were lots of people already there, and one of them was Tiffany Murdoch, holding court by the large bonfire that spewed streams of embers skyward. There were quite a few large young men in football jerseys and teenage girls in short shorts, tight skirts, and tighter tops. A catering truck was parked on the road near the beach. Mikki, who’d brought a blanket and a bag of marshmallows, looked on in shock as men and women in white jackets carried trays of food and drinks around to the teens partying on the sand.
Blake spotted her and strolled over, a bottle in his hand.
“Hey, glad you could make it.”
“Never been to a beach party that was catered before,” she said in a disapproving tone.
“I know. But Tiffany’s dad is a big football booster, and he pays for the party every year.”
“So I guess that’s why Tiff’s here?”
“Oh, yeah. The center of attention as always. A real queen bee.”
“Bees sting,” Mikki shot back.
“What’s in the bag?” he said.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, hiding the bag of marshmallows behind her.
He held up the bottle. “Want a taste?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“It’s not alcohol.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
A little put off, he said, “Well, there’s plenty of food and drink. Help yourself and then come join us.”
He left, and Mikki went to the tables manned by other adults in white jackets. She asked for a Coke. The woman, weathered looking with stringy gray hair, poured it out for her.
“Thank you,” said Mikki.
The woman looked surprised.
“What?” asked Mikki. She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “Something wrong?”
“You’re not with that group, are you?” said the woman quietly.
“No, we just came down from Ohio for the summer. Why?”
“You said thank you.”
“And that’s, like, unusual?”
The woman eyed the partygoers. “With some folks it’s apparently impossible. Ohio? Are you Cee Pinckney’s folks?”
“She was my great-grandmother. I’m Mikki.”
“Nice to meet you, Mikki. Ms. Pinckney was a fine lady. Sorry she’s gone.”
“I take it you live in Channing?”
“All my life, but just not the postcard part.”
“What?”
“You know the part you see on postcards? I live in the area tourists never see. We can’t afford the pretty ocean views.”
“Would that be Sweat Town?”
“So you’ve heard of it?”
“Somebody told me. Sounds like where we lived in Cleveland. What’s your name?”