Page 2 of An Island Summer
Vinnie was right. She’d never been a chef—she was just a waitress. She could still hear Pappy telling her,Your dreams are just your future stretching out in front of you. It’s up to you to act on them.And that was when she knew things had to change if she ever wanted to be happy. When he “reorganized” the restaurant, as he’d called it, shifting directions completely, redecorating and offering a mediocre attempt at a diner atmosphere with a mediocre menu, she’d hit her limit.
She’d lain in bed that night in tears. After a lot of soul-searching, she came to the conclusion that she might not be a chef, but she’d never know until she got out there and tried. Although a storm of inadequacy raged within her, and she didn’t know if she had the guts to actually do it. She could take the long route and begin culinary classes, or she could throw herself in at the deep end and open her own place, trying her hand at it—but with very little money in the bank, neither option was really a possibility yet.
With absolutely no idea what she was going to do, and with only her inadequate savings, she’d called Tess to tell her that she was going to quit her job and move into Pappy’s house. In an act of sheer rebellion, and relatively consistent impulsivity, Tess had quit with her. They’d spent the morning loading everything they owned into the old car, headed for the summer sunshine on Hatteras Island in the Outer Banks.
“Think we’ll find somewhere to work?” Tess asked, pulling Meghan out of her thoughts. Tess sank her hand into the bag of granola she’d brought for the trip and popped a few pieces into her mouth while Charlie stuck his snout between the two front seats, hoping for a nibble.
“I hope so,” Meghan replied over the radio. Her number one concern had been getting away from Zagos and clearing her head to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Tess, on the other hand, had seen it more as an opportunity for a free three-month vacation. Either way, Meghan hoped to have a fresh start in the Outer Banks.
As they entered the town of Waves, Tess turned the radio down and gazed out the window at the brightly colored sails that floated above the sound, attached to kiteboarders who bobbed and twisted in the air, coming back down onto the water’s sparkling surface with the grace of an ice skater. “How long since you’ve been back here?”
Meghan swallowed, pushing the idea of her grandfather’s fishing cottage out of her mind. She’d have to see it soon enough. “Not for a decade,” she replied.
“That’s a long time.” Growing up with Meghan back in Virginia, Tess knew all about Meghan’s grandfather and how important he’d been to her, and the empathy in Tess’s tone was evident.
“Yes,” Meghan said, not having light enough words to fill the conversation, the weight of facing this place without Pappy sitting on her heart like a cinderblock.
“What made you decide to come here now when you could’ve gone anywhere?”
Meghan glanced over at Tess’s compassionate stare before returning her attention to the road. Trying to muster up an explanation when her own understanding of it was murky at best, she said, “I guess I just wanted to feel… calm.”
“Well, this’ll do it.” Tess waved an arm out the open window, the blue waters within reach, a massive white sailboat pulling in to dock at the marina.
They’d driven down highway twelve south, through the massive throngs of tourists that had clogged up the northern villages of Kitty Hawk and Kill Devil Hills, and continued on through the town of Waves, the beachfront shops and restaurants giving way to wide expanses of marshland, blue skies, and restless surf. And they’d crossed the low-lying bridge that snaked its way through the waters onto Hatteras Island.
The roads narrowed until they found themselves on a winding path leading to Pappy’s little cottage. As she meandered through the marshland, she could see it: the brown shingled bungalow on the edge of the Atlantic. In her side-view mirror, there was nothing but coastline behind her, and her dog Charlie’s face out his window, his fur pulling backward with the wind, and the soft, swaying seagrass. She sucked in a steadying breath and fixed her gaze on the cottage.
TWO
“May I go in alone first?” Meghan asked Tess as they stood together in the gravel drive while Charlie loped through the tall grass, delighted to finally be out of the car.
“Of course. I’ll take Charlie down to the beach.”
Meghan gave her best friend a squeeze. “Thank you.”
Then, with the envelope in hand, she turned back toward Pappy’s. The sea churned onto the shore, hissing at her back, as she walked the sandy path leading to the front porch steps. Her fingers found the paint-peeled railing, and she stepped up each stair slowly until she arrived on the small front porch facing the water. The two old rocking chairs where she and Pappy had gone to sit on the hardest days without her parents were still there, pushed to one side, one of them toppled over. How those chairs had managed to survive the storms over the years was beyond her. Her hands trembling, she reached into the envelope, past the few other contents, and grabbed the familiar brass key, unlocking the door. She gripped the doorknob and twisted it, pushing it open. The hinges creaked out their warning that she was entering the house that Pappy had left her in his will. It had been all he had besides his fishing boat, which he’d sold off to a neighbor just before he’d died.
The minute she laid eyes on the interior, she sucked in a dusty breath, a wave of emotion overtaking her. She pressed her hands to her mouth to keep the sob from traveling all the way down to Tess and Charlie by the beach. She ran her hand along the battered leather sofa, leaving a trail of prints through the dust.
“I’m sorry I took so long to come back,” she said in a whisper, her words jagged.
The floor squeaking under her feet, she walked over to the thermostat and kicked on the air conditioning. Then she leaned on the small dinette table and set the envelope down, unable to look at its contents just yet. She’d had it since the funeral, but it never seemed right to look inside. An ache rising in her throat, she closed her eyes, the sound of laughter and the tinkling of dishes filling her ears.
“I taught Meghan how to make these here biscuits,”she heard Pappy telling her mother in that soothingly relaxed drawl of his when Meghan was about ten. He was leaning on his elbows, his fork dangling from his fingers above his plate, a wide smile on his face.“Did it all by herself.”
“Delicious,”her mother said, her face youthful in Meghan’s memory.“Are they cheese?”
“Cheddar cornmeal,”Meghan had answered.
“Everything she knows, she learned from you, Dad,”her mother had said with an affectionate laugh.
Pappy eyed her with adoration. He and Meghan had a special bond that had set them apart from anyone else in the family.“She’ll never need a husband because she’ll be so independent, but if she ever wants one, I hope to show her…”
“…what to look for in a man,” she heard herself say out loud, bringing her back to reality. When her parents died and the police showed up at her door, she remembered being curled in a ball on the sofa while the two officers discussed who to call. She cried out, “Call my pappy,” tears streaming down her cheeks. Pappy had stepped up, coming to her home in Richmond that very night and bringing her to Hatteras Island. The way he’d calmed her restless, anxious soul was by doing what they used to do for her parents: cooking. It had been the source of so many wonderful memories before their death that cooking had carried her through her grief. Now, she looked around the empty cottage to be sure she was alone, and then gazed at the leather chair where Pappy had sat to watch television in the evenings.
Pappy had taught her everything during her teenage years. From hooking up a boat trailer to a truck hitch, to rigging a live bait on a fish hook, to balancing the delicate amount of yeast and flour when making his famous cornmeal biscuits rise. And he was right about teaching her what to look for in a man. “You don’t want someone to take care of you,” he’d said. “Find someone whoseesyou, someone who knows the greatness you’re capable of before you’ve even discovered it yourself.” The only problem was that Pappy had been the one who could see her, and no one could compare to the high standard Pappy had set.
For an instant, she wondered what she was even doing coming back there. She wasn’t ready yet. Even after ten years. What good could come of putting herself through these memories? Pappy was gone.
