Page 16 of Halstead House

“Nice, huh?” I heard Ana say.

“Quite.”

“Tell me about this list-making mother of yours.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why?”

“Because talking about all of that will ruin this beautiful morning,” I replied.

“Oh, it’s like that?”

“It’s like that.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that my mama always burns the eggs?”

“Burnt eggs?”

“I swear it’s true. Sometimes she even burns the enchilada recipe that my abuelas have handed down for generations.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s a great tragedy,” Ana stated.

A laugh burst out of me, strange and a little rough. Ana joined in. The wide open air stole the sound away as we floated in the sun. The waves seemed to push me forward, while at the same time carrying the tightness of Mother’s embrace away to places I couldn’t see.

After floating aimlessly for a while we made our way back to the beach where we sat in comfy chairs, listening to the ebb and flow of the water. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. My breath slowed, and time held still in the humid air. I couldn’t remember an occasion where I’d felt more peaceful.

A familiar booming voice woke me from a light doze. “Hey, Ana and Grace, how you ladies doing?”

I opened my eyes and glanced to the side to see two figures heading toward us. I recognized Marshall right away, but the other man had his head down and was focused on the fishing pole and tackle box he was carrying. Both men were wearing t-shirts, shorts, and hats that shaded their faces. Their feet were bare, leaving prints in the wet sand as they neared.

“We were having a lovely time until you woke us from our beauty sleep,” Ana called back.

Marshall laughed. “I see I didn’t do any harm. You both still look as pretty to me as you ever did.”

I sat up straighter in my chair and offered Marshall a smile before my eyes shifted again to his companion. Up close I was surprised to realize it was John Lucas. He was as rugged-looking and handsome as I remembered. At the sight of him a little tingle started in my toes. It was a feeling I’d experienced for the first time in the carriage house the other night.

I felt agonizingly awake and absolutely petrified as he drew near with Marshall. His eyes were shadowed by his hat, but I felt it when he glanced my way. They sparked in recognition, but he said nothing. I flexed my toes, willing the feeling away, wishing he didn’t make me so nervous.

Ana’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Flirting won’t get you anywhere with us, Marshall. We’re two strong and independent women.”

“What if I told you I caught some fish and was offering to cook it up for lunch?”

Ana raised her brows as she gazed back at him. “I’m listening.”

“On the beach. Over a fire.” Marshall grinned.

“See, big guy, it’s food that does all the talking. I’m in. Grace?” Ana turned to me, and I realized I was still staring at John Lucas. How embarrassing.

His face was unreadable. Serious. His already dark coloring shaded by the hat made his unusually light green eyes seem to glow. He had the same expression as the night I’d first seen him. It pushed me out of the trance I’d been in. I tore my eyes away and looked to Marshall.

“Um, thanks, but...” I began.

Predictably, Ana interrupted me. “Jeez, Grace, don’t undo all the work I’ve done here today.” She lightly swatted my arm. “This girl was really in need of some island therapy.”

“That so?” Marshall smiled. I shook my head and sighed. “Well, Ana is the girl to help you out with that.”

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