Page 4 of Picking Pismo

Even the words fell flat to her. Who was she kidding? Things were bleak. Both sisters thrown together due to horrible circumstances. A familiar weight landed on her shoulders, the burden too heavy to carry on her own. Claire paused and whispered a silent prayer.

Alexis interrupted her. “See you don’t even believe it. Don’t lie to me. I see the train wreck coming. I wish I knew how good I had it before…” She fiddled with her cell phone in her hands.

Claire glanced at the rear-view mirror, catching the sight of tears cascading down Alexis’s cheeks. Her throat grew tight. “I wish I had known too,” Claire quietly replied.

Silence.

Then Claire added, “Things will improve.” Her voice was a tad too cheerful. “Promise.”

Swiping the tears away, Alexis pointed to her ear. “I can’t hear you.” Then she turned up her music, loud enough Claire heard it seeping out of her earbuds.

Letting out a long, raspy breath, Claire took the long way home. Getting a full view of the ocean, she opened the windows a bit to let the tangy saltwater whirl around her car. Reminders of summers with Mom and Alexis whizzed through her as she remembered sunburns, saltwater taffy, and clam chowder. Her heart ached so much, she found it hard to breathe. Maybe Alexis was right? What if things never improved? Perhaps this burden would forever be too heavy to bear?

Give it to Him.

Claire paused, pushing back at the wave of overwhelming sadness engulfing her. “God, it’s yours,” Claire stated out loud. “It’s all yours.”

The words drifted out the window, carried away with the ocean breeze. Claire took another glance at the beautiful ocean, and for a second, the gut-wrenching pain subsided.

CHAPTER TWO

“Mom, are you home?” David walked through his parents’ front door, wandering to the back of his childhood home. Jasper, his parents’ yorkie greeted him. Bending down, David stroked Jasper between his ears. “Where are they, boy?” he asked.

Jasper barked. David scooped him up and continued out to the patio. Pushing open the sliding glass door, David stared out at the Pacific Ocean in all its splendid glory. He sighed with relief as the sticky saltwater hit his skin. This, the view of the ocean, the healing balm of an ocean breeze, never became old.

His parents were seated at the patio table. They both glanced up as he passed through the sliding door, closing it behind him.

“Here you both are,” declared David.

David slung himself into one of the empty patio chairs, setting Jasper down on the ground to wander around. Stephen, his dad, glanced up from his e-book, removing his reading glasses, he placed them on the patio dining table.

Stretching, Stephen said with a chuckle, “We weren’t hiding.”

“Just enjoying the last little bit of sunshine before the sunset.” Kelly, his mom, continued to knit. Her needles moved in tandem across the yellow yarn. She paused when she finished the long row of loops. “This is a nice, pleasant surprise. You usually don’t drop by on a Friday night. What’s up?”

Grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the patio table, David popped some into his mouth. Ignoring his mom’s digging, David knew Kelly was itching to ask about the woman he took out a few weeks in a row. But it fizzled and burned out about a month ago, and David didn’t want to rehash it. Since his divorce, his parents managed to stay out of his dating life. Even if they wanted the details, they didn’t ask and only listened when he offered information freely. David appreciated it.

“If I had a view like this, I’d be out here every night too,” said David.

Kelly smiled, peering over the top of her glasses. “Someday, dear.” She pulled the yarn to give it some more length before starting on the next row of tight loops. “You’ll get your big house on the water too.”

“Doubtful,” leaning back, David crossed his ankles and cradled his neck. The terms of his divorce ran through his head. His jaw tightened. Trying not to think about everything he’d lost, David cranked his neck back and forth. He swallowed, forcing the sting of the past away. Enough. He paused, “Mom, remember that friend of yours who passed away a few weeks ago, the one in your knitting circle?”

“Rebecca?” Kelly stopped mid-knit, peering over.

David snapped then pointed. “Yes, Rebecca. Her daughters came in today. The younger one, Alexis, is a patient of mine.”

A hand flew to Kelly’s heart. “No, those poor girls. I remember Rebecca mentioning there was quite an age gap between the two of them.”

“Uh huh,” David grabbed another handful of popcorn, chewing before he continued, “the older one, Claire, is probably only a little younger than me.”

David almost added, and she’s gorgeous, like knock the wind right out of you, way out of your league, beautiful.

Stephen dug into the popcorn bowl too and took a handful. “Do they know what they are going to do yet? Are they sticking around Pismo?” asked Stephen.

“No. Claire mentioned they have seventy-six days to move out of their mom’s house and get it up for sale.” Amazing how David remembered that very specific detail. He watched as the sun slipped below the water. A stunning smattering of yellow and orange stretched across the sky, and gratitude seeped into David’s heart. He continued, “I don’t think she lives here, from what I gathered.”

Kelly shook her head, starting to knit again. “No, the older one lives in Los Angeles. She’s a physical therapist. I only remember because Rebecca always spoke about her with great pride.” Kelly tsked, “I still can’t believe she’s gone, and how she passed. How awful for them. Their dad isn’t in the picture either. He abandoned Rebecca before the younger one was born.”

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