Liz heard the phone ringing as she flipped through her mail. She was always irritated when she saw her name spelled incorrectly on advertisements. If they want me to buy something, shouldn't they take the time to make sure they have my name right? How much simpler could my name be? She could understand if her name was unusual. But Larkin? She'd seen it spelled every possible way but right. She looked at her phone expecting to see her mother's picture but she saw Gary's picture instead.
"Gary?"
"Yeah, I know. We had hoped to be in Emerald Isle by this afternoon but we've had a change of plans. Nancy's mom needs us to help her out and we won't be able to get to the beach this week. Nancy and I were wondering if you'd like to use the condo for the week. It would be a shame to let the house sit empty."
"Your timing couldn't be more perfect."
"You know where the key is. Nancy will call you when we get to her mom's. We're just on the way out the door now."
"Thanks so much for thinking of me. You're too good to me."
"You deserve it......talk to you later."
Liz was so grateful for them after all she'd been through this past year. It would be great to have a change of scenery. She loved Emerald Isle and their condo would be the perfect retreat to escape the pressure cooker. She had just finished one of the toughest cases of her career and felt drained. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to prosecute Jim Crowson, a graduate student from Duke University who'd been accused of murdering a pretty young college student. The case had been complicated by conflicting DNA evidence and it resulted in a hung jury. She had hoped this case would put her in line to be the next District Attorney. Now all she wanted to do was forget she had ever heard his name.
OK, it's 6:30 now. If I pack light, I can be there by midnight. The traffic won't be so bad that time of night. She could call her mother on the hand's free. That conversation would be good for an hour or so. Hmm, how much of the conversation would be about her sister's problems? Probably most of it. Of course Liz loved her mom but she was consumed with Jenny's ongoing soap opera of a life. Another reason to be grateful for her friends. They had helped her cope with her husband's death and were always there for her to confide in.
As she approached the bridge to the island she felt more tired than she had expected. She was used to all-nighter's so hadn't expected to feel this tired at midnight. I still have to unpack but I'll do that in the morning. She let herself into the house through the back door. As tired as she was, she paused to listen to the waves hitting the shore. There was no more relaxing sound on earth. After dropping her bags in the master bedroom she poured herself a glass of wine and walked out to the end of the deck. Nancy always had a beach chair stashed under the walkway at the edge of the dunes. As she settled into the chair and stared at the moonlit waves crashing into the shore she thought this was exactly what she needed.
She let her mind drift off. She imagined Ben was sitting next to her. She could tell him anything and he had always pretended to listen patiently. She wished he was still here. Her eyes were so heavy that she couldn't even force them to stay open. Just a few minutes more and I'll go in.
Could she really have slept all night on the beach? The sun was just coming up over the horizon and she blinked as the sunlight blocked her view of the houses. The air smelled fresher than she had remembered it. I'm still tired she thought. And stiff. It is not relaxing to sleep in a chair all night. She massaged her sore neck and figured she'd better grab a couple hours sleep in a real bed. When she turned to walk back up the deck she was shocked to see that it was gone. As she looked up the beach towards the rising sun she realized now that the sunlight hadn't blocked her view, there were no houses in sight, in any direction. She scanned the shore. Where was the pier?
Something behind her on the dunes caught her attention. "Hello? Is somebody there?" A small boy peeked out at her from behind some low shrubs. It was then she noticed the roof of a small cottage just over the bank. "What's your name?" she asked. "Jimmy, breakfast is ready." It was a woman's voice. The child turned and bolted back in the direction of the cottage. "Wow, she has him trained well. You don't see that much these days." Liz climbed the bank after the boy. As she reached the top of the dunes she stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn't the fact that the house was very small and the only one for miles that made her jaw drop. The woman standing in the doorway was wearing a getup straight out of Leave it to Beaver, complete with the pearl necklace. The woman in the doorway looked as flabbergasted as Liz. The woman looked around for her son. Liz could hear just the hint of panic in her voice as she called out for her son again, "James Robert Crowson, get in this house this instant."
