Page 26 of A Line in the Sand

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A man wearing suspenders over his Turtle Team T-shirt blew out a breath. “Thank goodness. After last year, I’ve still got sand in places I don’t want to think about.”

Max studied Opal and her two friends. Visions of walkers and hip replacements danced in his head. “I’m not sure if having just the three of you build a sand sculpture is such a good idea.”

Mavis waved a hand. “Don’t be silly. We’re not building it. We’redesigningit.”

“A group of students from the marine biology department at the college in Wilmington is going to put it together for us.” Opal removed a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of her cardigan. “Here’s a sketch of our preliminary design.”

Max unfolded the paper. “You drew this?”

Opal smiled. “Yes.”

The sketch was magnificent. Drawn in graphite pencil with shading to give it depth and dimension, it featured a sea turtle swimming against the backdrop of a coral reef. Tiny hatchlings dotted the sand around the base of the main sculpture.

Given his status as a SandFest newbie, Max wasn’t sure if it was good enough to win, but he couldn’t imagine a more perfect design to represent the aquarium and sea turtle hospital.

“Opal taught art at Turtle Beach High for over forty years. She also designed the mural on the exterior of the aquarium.” Mavis patted Opal’s shoulder.

“This is stunning, Opal.” Max tapped the sketch with his pointer finger.

“The kids who are building the sculpture for us just won a sandcastle building contest in Myrtle Beach last June. They really know what they’re doing,” Ethel said.

“My grandson is a freshman in the program, which is how we snagged them as our helpers.” Mavis’s eyes gleamed.

Stone cold relief washed over Max. Maybe they had a shot at winning this thing after all.

“Well, then. I approve.” He slid the paper across the table toward Opal. “This is exciting. The aquarium could really use that prize money.”

Opal took the sketch, folded it back into quarters and tucked it away again. “I’m still working on the final design. I have some ideas that should ‘take it to the next level,’ as the kids say. It needs to really be a statement piece if we want to win.”

“Memorable,” Ethel nodded.

“Impossible to ignore,” Mavis added.

“Sounds like a plan, but I’ve got just one very important rule.” Max held up a finger. “No mermaids.”

He braced himself for an argument, but miraculously, it wasn’t forthcoming.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Opal smiled sweetly at him. “You have my word—no mermaids.”

Something about this was too easy. Or maybe Max was being paranoid. Still, he couldn’t help thinking of one of Uncle Henry’s favorite expressions.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Chapter 8

For the rest of the day, as Molly wrestled with the espresso machine, blended more frozen drinks than she could count, and did her best to play peacemaker between Ursula and Sebastian, she tried to come up with a plan for dealing with her parents during SandFest.

Molly contemplated every form of deception, from feigning illness in an attempt to get out of it altogether to casually wearing her mermaid costume and pretending she was still employed at the aquarium. She just wasn’t ready to tell them the brutal truth, probably because she’d yet to accept it herself. But, as she’d had to remind her father again and again, Molly wasn’t a child anymore. She was a grown woman. Responsible adults didn’t lie to their parents or engage in ridiculous charades to avoid admitting they’d been fired. Or laid off. Or double-fired…or whatever had happened. Honestly, Molly wasn’t even sure anymore. All she knew was that overnight she suddenly had a career as a semi-competent barista and a new neighbor she despised.

The best thing to do was to go ahead and fess up now so the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach would go away. Granted, telling her dad up front would allow him several days to prepare his case for moving off the island. But Molly would deal with that on Saturday. Again, she was a grown woman. He couldn’torderher to pack and move to Philadelphia.

But he can kick you out of the cottage to prove a point.

Plus it would just be really great to feel like her dad approved of her life choices for once. And now that Molly had made such a mess of things, she didn’t necessarily approve of her circumstances herself, so trying to get her academic father on board was a tall order. Why had she insisted on antagonizing Max to such a degree? She’d probably been one mermaid cupcake away from getting her job back.

When Molly’s shift at Turtle Books ended, she drove home on her vintage turquoise Vespa with Ursula strapped in the pet carrier that sat between the handlebars, copper ears flying in the wind. The puppy smelled like French roast coffee beans, as did Molly’s hair, her skin, and her cute starfish print fit-and-flare dress. A dip in the ocean would definitely be in order when they got back to the cottage.

Fortunately, Henry’s old Jeep wasn’t parked at the beach house next door, which meant that Max was most likely still at the aquarium. Molly changed into a swimsuit with a flippy little skirt and headed to the shore with Ursula’s leash in one hand and her cell phone in the other.