Page 14 of Just Beachy

“Thanks, it’s great to meet you, too,” I say as the three of us clink glasses. “The complex is beautiful and I’m already in love with Grand’s view. How long have you lived here?”

“As your grandmother may have told you, my family used to vacation down here when I was a child and so did hers. We met out on St. Pete Beach—I think we built a sandcastle together for the first time when we were five or six—and, I don’t know, something just clicked. We’ve been friends ever since.”

“That’s right.” Grand takes over the story. “Myra and I were in each other’s weddings. And over the years your grandfather and her husband, David, also became close friends. The four of us had a lot of wonderful times down here together.”

“That we did,” Myra agrees. “I moved down full-time after David died. It’s been close to fifteen years now.”

Both Myra’s and Grand’s eyes tear up.

Myra is the first to shake it off. “Come on, it’s time for you to meet some folks.”

We sip and nibble and follow in Myra’s wake as shemakes introductions. “This is Donna and her husband, Grady. They’re in the building on the other side of yours. And this is Cheri, the president of the HOA. This is her husband, Mike.”

“Welcome to Casas de Flores, Lillian,” Cheri says. “We’re very glad to have you in the neighborhood. We’ll make sure you have a directory, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions at all.”

Grand smiles. “Thank you. I’m very happy to be joining the community. Myra’s told me great things. And this is my granddaughter, Syd—”

“Oh my God, it’s Cassie Everheart!” A reed thin, out-of-breath woman speed-walks toward us. “I certainly hope there’s no alcohol in that drink when you’re barely out of rehab,” the woman says as she nears. Her eyes are overbright, and her cheeks are flushed.

I cringe and try not to panic as I remember what happened at Harley’s when people insisted on believing IwasCassie Everheart.

“Helen,” Myra says, taking the woman’s arm. “This is my good friend Lillian—she just bought the Spectors’ place.”

Grand smiles and says hello.

“And this is Lillian’s granddaughter Sydney.”

“I just don’t understand how you could have lost it over a man like that,” Helen says on a sigh.

I cringe again, but I can’t really step away because we seem to be drawing a crowd. It takes every ounce of my acting experience to hold on to my smile.

“I’m not Cassie, you know,” I say to Helen and the group that’s forming. “She’s just the character I play…played.”

“Such a shame,” someone else chimes in. “I guess not everyone can handle the stress of police work.”

“I’m not Cassie,” I say again. “And I’m not a police detective. I’m an actress.” Or at least I was.

Grand takes my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. But the look in her eyes tells me she’s trying not to laugh.

“You know, Belinda.” An elderly gentleman turns to a nearby woman. “Maybe Cassie here could help you find your iPhone.”

Grand guffaws. I can’t decide whether to laugh or to cry.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what Belinda’s Find My iPhone app is for, Floyd,” Myra says with a shake of her head. A slight eye roll follows.

If Grand weren’t holding my arm, I would flee the scene right now—but in a sedate, ladylike manner. It’s Myra who eases us out of the group and leads us toward the pool, where a lone, silver-haired man stands.

I brace myself, but he says only, “I thought you were wonderful in that role. I cannot understand what those writers were thinking.”

I fall a little bit in love with him for that, but his eyes are on my grandmother.

“Hello, Brian,” Myra says. “I’d like you to meet my longtime friend Lillian Wilde. She just bought the Spectors’ place. And this, of course, is her granddaughter Sydney.”

“Ladies,” Myra continues, “thisis Brian Boyer.”

“Ah,” Brian says. “It’s lovely to meet you both. I must say I enjoyedMurder 101tremendously up until they created that ridiculous ending for poor Cassie. But I have no doubt you’ll find an even more challenging role, Sydney.”

He takes Grand’s hand. “I’ve always admired your unit, Lillian. The view is gorgeous. Will you be here part- or full-time?”

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