Page 45 of Gulfside Girls
“Dang, she’s good,” Henry said. “I should have done the same with the crab cakes. Wait, Jorge, sit down, what the heck?”
Henry popped up off the beach blanket and ran—pretty deftly, in Ali’s opinion—over to Jorge, who was struggling to help collect beach chairs.
“No, no. I’m doing this.” Henry folded chairs and grabbed the cooler that Didi had brought down from the Sea Turtle.
“Fine, fine, but I’m better. I’m way better,” Jorge said.
“I realize that, but my mother would turn over in her grave if her baby boy didn’t help pick up after your lovely hospitality.”
Henry and Jorge continued to banter as Didi approached Ali again.
“Now you see, a little piece of paradise, right?”
“It appears to be the case. Yes.”
“Everyone who stays is invited down here to enjoy the Grand Finale. It’s been dwindling, thanks to the issues we’re working on, but sometimes we have over two dozen. It’s my favorite part of the day. I love that locals like us and our sweet guests mingle and just kick back and appreciate the view.”
“And how fast it goes,” Ali said again.
Why was that sticking with me?
“Yes, and how fast it all goes.”
Didi was talking about life. That was clear. Ali realized she was, too. The sunset made it plain. Time was moving faster than she appreciated.
Ali wanted to ask Didi all the business things she needed to know. But she didn’t. Life was speeding by, and she ought to give herself one night of relaxation on the beach. No lists or tasks to accomplish.
Oddly, she felt a little sad. Ali wanted to see what the sun did tomorrow.
Maybe I’ll stay a few more days to sort things out.
Eighteen
Belinda
1974
She’d never seen her mother so angry or her father so cold. Joetta was In Trouble. At sixteen, she’d gotten in the worst trouble they could fathom, and now Belinda sat at the top of the stairs, listening in.
Their mother was yelling, so it was easy to hear.
“I can’t show my face anywhere, ANYWHERE, thanks to this. Thanks toyou!”
Joetta kept trying to get their mother to listen, to help, to understand. “We are going to get married. He loves me.”
“That laborer? He’s base, and you’re too stupid to know it. I raised you to be better than this, and you’ve thrown it away.”
Her little sister was crying, which cut Belinda to the core. She hated to see her sad or even disappointed.
“Daddy. Can you please forgive me? We just need a little to start out.”
Their father coughed. And then Belinda heard footsteps. He was walking away. While their mother berated Joetta, their father walked away. Belinda didn’t know which was worse.
“GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”
Joetta ran now, too. Belinda stood up and was there to catch her little sister as she collapsed into wracking sobs.
This was awful, a mess, the worst mess she could imagine.
