Page 34 of The Beachgoers
thirteen
— Now —
THESE ARE THEIR LAST MOMENTS alone, together.
Doesn’t Jason damn well know it. So he takes Maris’ hand in his as they turn onto the stone walkway. From the first sighting of the Ocean Star Inn, there’s no mistaking the night will be one for the books. Up ahead, the three-story shingled inn rises against the sunset sky. Windows and balconies are open to the evening sea air. Strung white lights glimmer on front porch railings. Accent cage-lights hanging from arched stakes shine on the pathway. Beside the inn, solar garden lights set beneath hydrangea bushes illuminate the dusty blue blossoms.
As they near the entranceway, Maris stops to read Elsa’s message chalked across the stone path. “Smile…and stay awhile,” she softly says.
“The place does look grand.” Jason looks up at the seaside inn. “No one will want to leave tonight.”
“Oh, there’s Celia! I really want to talk to her, and wish her luck,” Maris tells him.
Jason nods and watches Maris go. Her khaki T-shirt dress swings easy as she waves to Celia beside the inn. Looking to the front porch then, Jason approaches it alone.
“Hey,hey!” someone calls from the porch swing. “It’s Jason Barlow.”
“Sup, Nicholas. What’re you doing up there? On guard duty?”
“Nah. Just chillin’. Checking things out, you know.”
“I hear you.” Jason looks past Nick, then asks, “Where’s your date tonight?”
“Where’s yours?” Nick shoots back.
“Nice out. So you must be here stag.” Jason climbs the steps and flicks Nick’s shoulder. “Almost didn’t recognize you. Rad threads,” he says of the olive-green button-down over rolled-hem shorts. “No uniform? The boss gave you time off?”
“Sure did. Event of the summer. New guy’s covering security tonight.”
“What’ll you do after Labor Day? The commish will cut your hours big time then.”
“Just put me onyourshow, Barlow,” Nick says. “I have experience, from my internship with you. Need an assistant?”
“You’d have to talk to Trent.” Jason leans against the porch railing and glances out at the inn’s side lawn. People mingle in small groups now. “Or maybe do some networking tonight. I see Elsa’s got all her neighbors here.”
“Yeah, this place is happening. Hell of a job you did renovating the old Foley’s cottage.”
“Just shined her up a little.” Jason leans over and glances up at the shingled turret facing the distant sea, then scopes out the lawn. “Where is everybody, anyway?”
“Around back.” Nick gets up off the swing and heads down the porch stairs onto the lawn. “Come on. Elsa’s got hors d’oeuvres. Some killer mini club sandwiches. Guac and chips. Zucchini crisps. Watermelon-feta bites.”
“No shit.” Jason hurries down the steps and catches up to him. “Lead the way, man.”
All of Stony Point seems to be meeting up on the green lawn, and chatting, and sipping cool drinks. Some people nod to Jason and Nick. Others stroll the illuminated grounds. Everyone’s well turned out in fine clothes for the inn’s grand opening celebration—casual jackets, tie optional; breezy dresses with beach sandals. Somewhere, a jazz band tunes their instruments, the musical notes randomly rising into the hazy evening air.
“Hey, guy,” Nick says, turning to Jason. “So whereisyour better half, anyway?”
“Maris?” Jason gives a quick look around. “There she is now, talking to Celia.”
* * *
Every which way Maris turns, the inn looks magical—which makes the evening all the more cruel. Everything twinkles like dancing fireflies. The paper lanterns up on the deck, off the back room. The Mason jars lining the secret path to the beach. The solar garden lights illuminating hydrangea bushes and sweeping, ornamental grasses.
Seeing it all, Maris can’t help remembering a sweet story Elsa’s told her. It’s about a night that happened when Maris was just a child—a night on the marsh with her mother and Elsa. As the story goes, fireflies rose from the marsh grasses like stars dancing in the twilight sky. Holding open jars, Maris, her mother and Elsa stood beneath that sky and spun around, trying to catch some of those fleeting fireflies. Maris hopes Elsa sees that special time in this enchanted sight—and that it’ll help get her through the coming hours.
“The grounds are so gorgeous, Celia,” Maris tells her after they meet up on the lawn. Celia wears a high-neck fitted black sheath. A three-strand gold chain belt is slung low around her waist. Her auburn hair is pulled into a topknot wrapped in a silky gold scarf. Her jewelry is minimal: gold star necklace, gold bar earrings and even an elegant corsage on a slim gold cuff. “Andyoulook stunning.”
“That all means a lot, truly. And to haveeveryonehere to celebrate…” Celia pauses to wave at a neighbor walking past. “Well, it’s a special night, indeed.”
