Page 50 of Gulfside Girls
As she walked, scatterings of seashells caught her fancy. Most were broken or crushed.
But then a different sort of shell caught her eye: bigger, whiter, and more perfect than the rest she’d seen.
She picked up a conch shell that didn’t have a single chip on it. She rinsed it in the seawater and decided to keep it. Maybe it would be her one souvenir from her strange solo trip to Haven Beach.
A few feet more and a white shell stood out from the rest. She decided that it would look lovely on her nightstand. It was practically begging her to collect it! After walking a little ways longer, Ali realized both her pockets were rather filled with her seashell finds.
Next time, she’d bring a bag.Next time?
A burst of cold shook her out of her improbable “next time” thought. The little foam of the waves had rushed over her feet. She skipped out of the reach of the waves and more toward the shore.
What’s the fun in that, Ali Kelly?
Ali Kelly was not, in the parlance of self-help, connected to her inner child. She had too many outward children, from Jerry to her actual kids, to manage. But that inner child was activated by that sandy beach, and she shut off the impulse to stay dry and angled herself closer to the water.
Now, with each step, she was in the wet sand, her toes were covered, and then the next step, a whoosh of the water washed them clean.
She was playing like she was a kid. Or how she imagined it must be to play. Had she ever?
Her sisters would love this—Ooh, and the kids! She wondered if they were interested in coming down here sometime for spring break. Did soon-to-be divorced moms take their college-aged kids to spring break? What was the protocol for that?
Ali moved on in her mind. She didn’t want to cloud this walk. Not when the new sun was soft butter yellow in the sky, and the sound of a seagull seemed unreal, foreign to her Midwest ears, but exactly what you’d expect on a beach.
She didn’t know how long she walked or how far but thought it might be a good idea to turn around. The Key Lime Cottage and the Sea Turtle Resort was back the way she came, easy to find again.
Ali looked out at the water this time, on her stroll back, instead of down at the shells. She had no more places to put shells, so this was a better plan.
The water sparkled. She kept her eye out for dolphin fins, but none appeared. Instead, a metal gray pelican with a massive wingspan swooped back and forth. It dipped in front of her and flew behind her. She watched as it circled and then dove straight down into the water. Beak first.
“Breakfast, eh?” she said out loud to the pelican.
Who am I? Talking to pelicans!
Her foot didn’t hurt. Apparently, a barefoot walk on the sand did wonders for plantar fasciitis.
Her feet led her right back to the Sea Turtle Resort.
The Key Lime waited, ready to welcome her back. Ali realized she was smiling. All by herself, no one was around, and she was smiling from ear to ear at the sight of the sweet little cottage and the resort property.
This place had something. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Still, the entire time she’d worked at the Frogtown Convention Center, she worked hard to make it a community, a hub of people who enjoyed being together. She believed in an unseen “feeling” of a place that made it special.
That something special, that spark, was here. She felt it but couldn’t define it. Maybe it was Didi and Jorge who cultivated the vibe here. Right now, though, it was just her and the cottage and the sand in her toes.
Vibe or not, it was time to get coffee, get information, and get some answers.
Ali placed her bare feet on the wooden steps of the little deck outside the Key Lime. The deck was warm, the planks grounding her, welcoming her back.
She did have a job to do, but before she did it, Ali carefully laid out her shell treasures, one next to another, on the rail of her tiny deck.
The act felt like meditation.
Twenty-One
Ali
The Morning Bell was only two blocks away from the Sea Turtle in the opposite direction from the Seashell Shack and across Gulf Boulevard.
It was easy to find.
