Paradise on the Dunes

Chapter 2

            Her mouth felt parched, her lips stuck together, and her throat raspy. It felt like Shelly had eaten sand, swallowed the dunes around Paradise Point. She rolled to the other side of the bed and looked at the worried face at the door.

"Feeling better?" Jenny's wet hair framed her sweet face. It had drenched the front of her blue T-shirt.

"The migraine is gone." Shelley sat up, her feet touching the smooth wooden floor.

"I made some sandwiches. You must be hungry."

"Starving." Shelly grabbed her silk scarf from the bedside table and tied it around her head. Her hair was likely messy after the nap.

They walked down the stair and into the kitchen. Jenny had brought the luggage, the cooler and the grocery bags from the car. The pyramid of sandwiches sat on a paper plate on the countertop. Jenny picked up two paper plates from the plastic bag and passed them on to her mom.

"Dad would say sandwiches are not a meal," she said.

"He would be boiling water for pasta." Jenny forced a smile and picked a sandwich for the tip of the pyramid.

"Our heretic North American way in the kitchen always horrified Grama Gemma." The young woman took a big bite of the sandwich.

Mother and daughter ate on their feet by the island. The last rays of the sunbathed the scenery outside of the kitchen window. Jenny licked her fingers.

"I found something," she said. She ran to the living-room, disappeared for a short while, and returned with a large wine decanter. In it, shells rattled. Jenny put the decanter on the island top. "We had just started our shell collection. Remember what dad told me about picking up shells?"

"Comb the shore, but also look at the ocean and the sky..." Shelly returned her half-eaten sandwich to the plate.

"If you pick up too many shells on your walk, it means you didn't contemplate the views. If you picked too few, you didn't watch your steps." Jenny tilted the decanter and some shells slid to her hand.

"Your dad was a wise man." Shelly picked up a shell from her daughter's hand and studied its pearly color. She then looked at Jenny. "Want to go for a walk before the sun sets?"

"I'd like that." She returned the shells to its glassy home.

"We can clean up later."

At the front door, they put on their sandals and left. Halfway down the driveway, they took a trail across the dune. Patches of beach grass spread on both sides of the trail. Shelly's feet sank on the warm sand, forcing her to use the strength of her legs to keep up with Jenny's fast pace. Soon they were barefoot, traipsing along the irregular lines left by the waves on the sand. The sun had colored the sky different shades of orange as it descended to the horizon behind Paradise Point. The lightness of the foamy waves caressed Shelly's feet. It brought her memories of Marco's fingers massaging them. His touch had always been special since their first kiss in high school. He knew how to make her special, even when she wore braces and glasses, when her skin was covered in pimples.

"What's next?" Jenny's question interrupted Shelly's sweet memories.

"Next?" She looked at her daughter.

"That woman realtor. How did she find out about us?" Jenny leaning forward and picked up a shell. She studied it in the dim light of the departing sun.