Tessa insisted we walk to the restaurant. It would be almost two hours before sunset, and the heat would have been unbearable if not for the breeze off the water. We strode together arm in arm like we’d done when we were children. The beach was full of people. Families huddled under brightly colored awnings. Kids laughter floated on the breeze. A young girl threw bread crumbs into the air and giggled as sea gulls flocked around her for the treats, laughing in that mocking way they do.
“I’ve missed this,” she said. She pulled my arm closer and put her head on my shoulder. She was almost as tall as me, would have been if she’d been wearing her heels.
“The beach?” I asked.
“No, goof. You. Chicago’s great, and I have some friends I wouldn’t trade for the world, but no one knows me like my little brother.” The water came close to our feet, so we moved away to stay dry. Little sandpipers poked at holes and moved with the incoming waves like a choreographed dance.
“So, you don’t tell your secrets to Marcia?” She’d told me of several girl’s nights out with a co-worker by that name. They apparently were great drinking partners. Marcia was said to have drunk aggressive men under the table on more than one occasion.
Tessa laughed. The sound brought back a world of memories. Memories of us building crumbling sand castles, ogling animals at the zoo, creating finger paintings for Mom floated through my mind.
“No. Marcia is good for a laugh, but I never tell my secrets to the people I work with.”
“Got any good secrets to share with me?” I winked at her to let her know I was only half serious.
“No. Love life is practically non-existent. No time, you know?” She twisted her mouth the way our mom does. I hadn’t thought about that in forever. I really needed to get over to their house and check on the parents, but for now, I wanted to enjoy the time with my sister.
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I remember thinking about being a veterinarian back in the day. I would play with cute puppies and kittens all day, meet pretty girls that loved their hamsters, and make tons of money that I’d spend cruising around the world on my catamaran every summer. Instead, I’m on my feet all day, dealing with crazy cat ladies and dogs that have never been trained. My clients are impossible to please, and don’t get me started about how hard it is to tell someone their family pet of fifteen years needs to be put down.”
“Try flying to Toledo on a red-eye to meet with bankers with coffee breath and roving eyes. Or working until eleven to meet impossible deadlines on a regular basis.” Tessa shook her head thinking of her schedule back in Chicago. “The worst part is the winter meetings that are down the street, so I have to walk on the icy sidewalks with an umbrella trying to blow out of my hands and sleet freezing my toes.”
“I figured you were spending your time at the Art Institute or on the waterfront.”
“No time. I do get over to the planetarium once in a blue moon. It’s a great place to lean back and let my neck muscles relax while watching the fake stars, since I can’t see any in the city. Not like here.”
“Yeah, star watching is pretty good out here. I’m glad you took a break. This is so much better than FaceTime on my phone.” I let go of her arm and bent to inspect a shell that had washed up. I wasn’t anything special, but it was intact. I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket.
“Still adding to your collection?”
“Guess so.” A kid playing in the water let out a shriek of joy that must have carried for miles.
“You never could resist a pretty girl or shell.” She took my hand and began to swing our entwined hands as we walked. “The water is beautiful today. So still.”
“No surfing on that,” I said.
“Remember trying to surf when you were, what? Eight years old? The surfboard Dad rented for you was so big, he had to put it into the water for you to get started.”
“What I remember the most is how I pearled right off the bat, and the board hit me on the head. I had a bump for a week. My so-called friends called me egg-head for months after that.”
“Do you remember me trying to hide it with Mom’s makeup?”
“Don’t remind me. I can’t believe I let you do that.” I could see the restaurant ahead. “This looks like the place.”
“Looks like a dump, but the girl at the shell shop said it was a favorite of the locals. I don’t remember it from the old days. Do you?”
“Nope.”
“That shell shop is cute. You should check it out tomorrow.”
“I might do that.”
“It’s called “She Sells Sea Shells,” and it’s right on Main Street. You can’t miss it. I bought these earrings there. You like?” She shook her head to make the dangling earrings move.
“Is that sea glass?” The pale green translucent tails of mermaids swayed just above her shoulders. Their silver faces were intricately designed. I wondered how much of an outlay those cost her.
“Yep. They don’t get it from around here, but I don’t care. The teenager at the counter told me that the woman who owns the shop is the artist. I like buying from locals.”
“They look great with your outfit.” I said. She wore a sleeveless shirt in almost the same pale green and white capri pants. She was busy dusting the sand off her sandals on the mat at the door and didn’t look up.
“Thanks. I try,” she said.
I opened the door for her, and the sound of Bob Seger’s Old Time Rock and Roll floated out to us along with appetizing smells and the hum of conversations. People lined up at the bar, and most of the tables were full. A couple of young guys walked through the place carrying big platters with a full-table’s worth of meals.
“That seafood platter looks good,” I said as one of the waiters came close enough for me to see what he carried.
“That’s a lot of food. I couldn’t eat half of it.”
I took that as my opening and said, “I hate to sound like Mom, but you sure are slim. Is that on purpose? Are you eating regularly?” I sounded like a fuss-budget to myself, so was sure she’d hear me that way. She patted my arm.
“My philosophy is that one can never be too thin or too rich,” she said.
“Who gets to say what too thin or too rich is?” I asked. A greeter headed toward us. She stopped at a podium and took out two menus.
“I do,” Tessa said. “When my clothes get snug, it’s diet time. When I see a pair of shoes and think I can’t afford them, I know it’s time to ask for a raise.”
“Please tell me those sandals aren’t Prada or something,” I said looking down at the sand still clinging around her toes.
“Not on your life. My momma didn’t raise no fool,” she said.
I was nodding when the greeter asked how many were in our party.
“Two,” we said together. We grinned at each other and followed the bouncing pony tail winding through the crowded tables with Tessa in the front and me bringing up the rear.
I spotted her immediately, because of the red hair cascading around her face as she held a menu up as if to hide behind it. That shyness again. I was intrigued. I tapped Tessa on the back and told her to wait for me. She nodded and kept following the pony tail as I stopped at Samantha’s table. A quirky looking woman smiled up at me as I stood over them. How lucky can one guy get? I’d hoped to find her, but never dreamed it would be this easy. Tessa stood by the empty table we were supposed to occupy. I motioned with my head for her to come over. I hoped for an invitation to join Samantha.