Page 7 of The Beach Cottage
“Absolutely. Who is more perfectly suited than the two of you? If it hadn’t been for—well, what happened when you were a teenager, the two of you would’ve never broken up.”
“You mean Mum’s death.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up. I’m just pouring salt into those wounds, aren’t I?” Evie wrung her hands together.
Bea laughed. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I can talk about Mum’s death now without wanting to crawl into a hole and cry for hours. These days I ask myself what she might think or do whenever I’m not sure about something. I don’t want to forget her. She was an extraordinary person.”
“You’re right about that,” Evie said, her eyes gleaming. “It was a hard time for everyone. None of us knew how to help you, least of all Aidan. I think if that hadn’t happened, the two of you would’ve gotten married and spent your lives together. You loved each other so much. This is just another bump in the road, but you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“I hope you’re right. But for now, I’m focused on getting this café up and running. What do you think about sticky date puddings for the menu?”
“That sounds perfect. Oh, by the way, we always mark the end of summer at Point Prospect with a dip off the headland with the dolphins. Are you up for it? We’re going next week.”
Bea frowned. “You still do that?”
“Every February.” Evie laughed. “Surely you’re not too old.”
Bea felt too old to do a lot of things these days. But for so many years, she’d opted out of taking risks, or having fun, or doing the things she wanted to do because she was more concerned with what her husband wanted or her children needed. It was time to do some things for herself, and if that meant frolicking in the waves with dolphins or jumping off the headland into the surf, she wasn’t going to miss out. She’d always been an adventurer, but she’d pushed that part of herself aside for so long, she’d forgotten how. “Okay. Count me in.”
Once Bea had finished up for the day, she stepped outside to feel the sea breeze on her face. The humidity level had dropped, and it was a lovely evening, with the sun setting over the distant mainland in a blaze of orange and pink.
A ferry pulled away from the dock, leaving a trail of white foaming waves in its wake. A car was parked beside the primary school, and a teen girl climbed out. Spindly legs stuck out from a pair of white denim shorts. Her long brown hair bounced down her back in a ponytail. She walked to the gate and waited.
Bea’s heart leapt into her throat. It was Grace. Aidan’s daughter looked just like him from that distance. She was the image of his teen silhouette with the setting sun behind her. Tall, lanky, athletic, but with long hair and a crop top.
Just then, Aidan walked out of the school with a briefcase beneath his arm. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms. His hair was messy, and he grinned at Grace. He embraced her, and they walked together back to the car, deep in conversation. He glanced up and noticed Bea watching them. Her cheeks blazed with the embarrassment of being caught out. He raised a hand in greeting, and she waved back. Then he climbed into the car with Grace, and they drove away.
Bea’s heart thudded against her rib cage. This was going to be more difficult than she’d realised. She hated that they lived on the same small island together and she couldn’t be with him. Couldn’t call to talk about her day or ask him what he thought about the photographs she and Evie had discussed. Hated that they were being pulled apart by something that’d happened fifteen years ago, back before she’d even realised they might get a second chance at a life together.
For so long, she’d buried her feelings for him because he’d walked away from her and she’d had her heart broken. But now that he’d told her how he felt, he’d opened that door again, and her heart had reawakened. She wasn’t sure she could go through the pain of heartbreak all over again. Especially not so soon after losing her twenty-five-year-long marriage.
But she had no choice. She had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. There was no alternative. Besides, she’d promised Dad she would cook dinner for him and Bradford that night. Even though she was exhausted, she was looking forward to seeing them both. One of the benefits of moving back to Coral Island was that she had renewed her relationships with both her father and her brother — relationships she’d let wane for far too long due to misunderstandings and her own fear of returning to the place where she’d suffered so much loss in childhood.
Her phone rang, and she pressed it to her ear as she returned to the café to look for her purse.
“Hi, Mum.” Danita’s voice brought a wave of affection. She missed her daughter already.
“Danita Pike, fancy hearing from you so soon.” Her daughter had flown back Sydney only a few days earlier to begin her new university degree. “How is interior design going? Have you made the world beautiful already?”
Danita grunted. “Very funny, Mum. I was wondering if you’d had a chance to put that money into my account for the textbooks we talked about.”
“I should’ve known this phone call would be about money, and yes, it’s in your account.” Bea slung her handbag over her shoulder.
“Sorry, Mum. How are you? How’s the café?”
“I’m fine. I miss Aidan already, but I’ll survive. And the café is almost finished. I can’t believe how quickly it’s all coming together. I should be able to open within a month or so, I think. If I can find some staff.”
“Well, I’ll help out during the holidays.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Bea smiled. Sometimes everything felt overwhelming. And at other times, she was grateful and truly believed it would work out. At the moment, she was sitting somewhere in between both poles.
They chatted for a few minutes, and then she hung up the phone as she walked to the old station wagon she’d borrowed from her father. He said she could have it, since he had no need of it. He had his truck to get around, so she’d put off buying herself a vehicle. There wasn’t much need for one on the island unless she intended to go across to Blue Shoal. And for that, she’d either need the entire day to circumnavigate the island or a four-wheel drive to cross it. She’d begun to think that buying a boat would be a better and far more enjoyable use of her resources.
So far, she’d had to rely on other people to drive her across the island. But since her move, she’d decided she should become more independent — she’d given far too much of her trust to Preston over the years, had relied on him and had regretted it. She was an independent woman now and in the spirit of independence she’d have to learn to do more herself. And that included buying a boat so she could navigate the island on her own.
Four
Bea squeezed the pastry between her fingers and set the dumpling aside. Then she reached for another circular casing. She pushed the pork and chives mixture into a clump at the centre of the dumpling, closed the pastry around it and pressed it shut with her fingers. There was something so therapeutic about making dumplings — the repetitive nature of it, the mundanity. It’d always been one of her family’s favourite dishes. The kids still asked for it when they came home for holidays.
