Page 32 of Just Beachy

They both sound a bit surprised, which is a little insulting, but they’re also both nodding and smiling. And I lived in Hollywood long enough to take a “win” anytime one presents itself.

“Okay,” I say with a smile of my own. “All in favor of Sandcastle Books and Arts for the name of Myra’s store with a tagline of ‘We’re Just Beachy!’ say ‘Aye.’ ”

There is a resounding “Aye” from all three of us.

“All righty, then.” Myra erases everything but the winning name and tagline. “Let the games begin!”

I, alas, go back to painting while Grand sits down with a sketch pad and starts working on the store logo. Two hours later I’ve finished two of the kitchen walls and its ceiling. Grand has created three distinct designs, which we debate enthusiastically. There’s really no pressure because we know that any one of them would work great.

The one we choose shows a sandcastle sitting on a small patch of sand. A little girl, sunhat askew, is patting the castle, her face creased in smiles. Two adults, presumably her parents, are perched on their knees helping her.SANDCASTLE BOOKShas been carved into the castle. On the sand in front of it in cursive, are the words:We’re Just Beachy!A beach bag nearby has an open knapsack with books poking out the top.

A golden sun hangs in a powder blue sky behind them, and you can just make out the sparkle of turquoise water in the background.

• • •

“Don’t wait up,”Grand says the next evening. “And don’t be worried if I’m not back until tomorrow.”

I blink. “But…where, exactly, are you going?” Oh God. I sound exactly like my mother. “And what could you possibly find to do all night?”

Grand raises an eyebrow. I’m the one who blushes in embarrassment.

“I’m having dinner with Brian and then I’m going to spend the night with him.”

“But it’s already too late for the Early Bird.” It’s the only thing that comes out.

“Yes. Brian’s making dinner for me at his place. And then I’m going to stay over.” She shoots me a cat-about-to-lap-up-the-cream smile.

I feel what I’m ashamed to admit is a quick stab of jealousy. “But, Grand…”

“There’s no point trying to talk me out of it, sweetheart. My mind is made up.”

“But…but…”

“But what? Do you think we’re too old for sex?”

“No, no, of course not.” This is a lie. I totally think she and Brian are too old for sex or should be. And what do we really know about Brian anyway? He could be a mafiosoor an ax murderer or…a fortune hunter. Not that Grand has one.

“Stop worrying, darling. I’m a grown woman. And I’m going to be what? A few buildings away?”

“I, um, I just thought—”

“Enough.” She smiles again. “There’s no need to worry. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.Afterthe breakfast in bed I’ve been promised.”

Seventeen

When the security alarm goesoff in the middle of the night, I crawl out of bed, stumble to the upstairs keypad, and automatically turn it off. I realize this is a stupid move the moment I finish punching in the passcode to disarm it, because now that the alarm is no longer blaring, I can hear noise coming from what sounds like ground level.

I tiptoe quietly down to the living room, where I pause in a spot not visible from the foyer to listen intently.

For a moment I think Grand must have decided to come home rather than stay with Brian, but as I tiptoe down to the living room, I realize that the sound is coming from the garage itself; not her studio behind it or the front door, which Grand would be using if she’d come home.

Not wanting to involve the police, I dial Luke’s cell.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds completely awake even though it’s 2:00 a.m. Sheets rustle.

“Syd, what’s going on?”

“Um, it sounds like someone’s down in the garage again. I…I think whoever it is, is fooling with Grand’s car.”

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