Page 10 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs

We’d been helping Grandmama make her famous chocolate oatmeal cookies since before we could read, but the summer I turned twelve was the first time we were entrusted with making them by ourselves. She was not in the kitchen to supervise, she said, but merely to visit with us while we worked.

I could recite the steps in my sleep, and the recipe was one composed of fewer actual measurements and more instincts and estimates. Still, we took the task very seriously; we wanted to make her proud.

Sutton stood at the stove, watching over the pot and stirring constantly to ensure that not a single batch burned.

Rebekah and I took turns rationing out and pouring in each ingredient.

Elle transferred hot spoonfuls of chocolatey heaven onto the waiting sheets of tin foil and then popped each cookie free as it cooled, adding it to a paper plate.

Our granddaddy and various aunts, uncles, and cousins were emptying the plate almost as quickly as she could fill it.

We all held our breath when Grandmama reached over, plucked a sample from the latest batch, and popped it into her mouth.

She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

“Girls, these may be the best cookies I’ve ever tasted; far better than any I’ve made.

” She caught my eye and winked. She had dozens of grandkids, but I always got the impression I was her favorite.

And I suspected that Elle, Rebekah, and Sutton all had the same theory about themselves.

I was pretty sure this was intentional on my Grandmama’s part.

“These things are going fast this year,” Elle observed as she used a spoon to remove more treats from the foil.

“I told you.” Grandmama beamed. “They’re special.”

“Or maybe it’s because our family keeps growing.” Rebekah filled a teaspoon with vanilla extract.

“We really are blessed.” Grandmama’s eyes shone.

“Or because Uncle Alvin’s daughters all brought their boyfriends this year,” I grumbled to Rebekah under my breath.

“I don’t think we have enough cocoa for another batch.” Sutton peered into the container I’d just set on the counter.

“I bought at least five containers this year.” Grandmama walked around and rustled through a cabinet.

“You girls really did make a ton of these today!” She lifted a towel from the edge of the sink and reached over to squeeze Sutton’s shoulder.

“Y’all deserve a break; I’ll clean up. And if you decide you want to bake again tomorrow, we can ride over to the store.

” She picked up the roll of foil and tore off a sheet, nestled some cookies inside before folding it closed.

“Y’all ought to take a couple of these over to the family that lives in that blue house. ”

Elle wiggled her eyebrows at Sutton.

“When you have something special,” my grandmother whispered as she put a gentle hand on my back and entrusted me with the shiny bundle, “it’s good to share it with other people. Some things can never be divided, only multiplied.”

It’s Monday morning, and there’s a muscular, half-naked man standing in Jude’s living room.

“Um, hi.” I feign normalcy as I walk past him to the kitchen. He follows me.

“Hi there. You must be Alex.” He rests the hip of his lime-green swim trunks against the counter and picks up an apple from the basket next to him. “I’m Tyler.”

“Ah.” I flip the switch on the coffee maker. “Surf lesson Ty.” I contemplate a bowl of junk cereal but feel self-conscious enough to opt for a piece of fruit instead. “Are you looking for Jude?”

He crunches into his apple. “Nah. We’ve been down at the beach all morning.” I check the clock; it’s only a quarter after eight. “He just wanted to grab a quick shower before we do some work.”

As if on cue, Jude’s bedroom door squeaks open, and he emerges into the hallway with wet hair and a band camp hoodie above his cargo shorts. I look from him to Ty, and the contrast almost makes me laugh out loud. They are exactly the kind of unlikely best friends I would expect to find in a book.

“Good morning, Alex. I see you’ve met Ty.”

“Yep.” Ty walks around the island and pulls Jude’s laptop from its spot. “We were just sharing a bite to eat, and I was about to convince her to sign up for a few lessons.”

“Absolutely not.” I set down my uneaten apple and open the mug cabinet. “You want some coffee, Tyler?” I offer like this is my own kitchen or something.

“Not a coffee drinker.” He makes a face and runs a hand through his messy, long hair. “But I’d love a glass of water if you don’t mind.”

Jude watches me fill a cup at the sink and hand it to Ty before he takes a seat.

“Thanks.” Ty flashes his toothpaste commercial-worthy smile.

I fix two cups of coffee and try to add the same amount of milk to Jude’s that I’ve watched him pour in the past couple days. I place his mug in front of him and hold mine up. “Is it okay if I take this upstairs?”

“Of course. But you don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, come take a look at this.” Ty angles the computer and scoots over so I can take the barstool between them.

I leave my coffee beside Jude’s and sit in front of the screen. “Wow.” I scroll through the open website’s home page. “This is really cool.”

Ty points to the toolbar at the top. “If you click here, you can see all the activities Jude wants to offer when we officially launch. And here.” He moves his hand next to mine and drags the cursor over to a tiny surfboard logo.

“These are my client testimonials. See? Right here it says even a beginner can learn basic skills in just one lesson.”

“I’m not taking surf lessons.” I laugh. “Jude, do you surf?”

“Not well,” he confesses and sips his coffee.

I explore the site for another minute. “And you guys designed all this yourselves?”

“Nope.” Ty takes over the keyboard again to show me the handful of things I’ve missed. “Jude designed the whole thing. And came up with all the ideas. He also does all the admin stuff and bookkeeping and has been applying for loans. Oh, and he manages all the marketing.”

“Who took the photos? These are gorgeous.” I bite the inside of my cheek and hope he knows I’m referencing the beach and not his chiseled physique riding the waves.

“Jude.”

“Whoa.” I elbow Jude. “I didn’t know you were a photographer too. No offense to Tyler, but you’re basically running an entire business singlehandedly. This is incredible.”

“None taken.” Ty smiles. “I keep telling him he doesn’t need me. I think he only keeps me around for advertising purposes.” He stands and flexes his muscles. “But I’d do that for free; this website is essentially a dating platform for me.”

“That’s not true,” Jude disagrees. “I mean, the dating thing maybe. But Ty’s surf business is what really started all this. And he does more than he takes credit for.”

“I’m just saying.” Ty slides the computer away from me. “Jude could do pretty much anything he decided he wanted to. He’s a man of many talents.”

I like this guy. Not for the classic surfer boy charm, but for the way I can see he cares about my friend and recognizes all the amazing qualities that even Jude himself doesn’t.

“So, Jude’s been telling me you’ve been helping him figure out how to give families the full vacation experience,” Ty goes on. “Sounds like your giant fam is the authority on all things tradition?”

“Kind of,” I admit proudly. “But I really think we have so many more options because of our numbers. If you guys run the same kinds of events and let each family bring their own team to the competitions, people would see how much fun it is and sign up every year for sure. And people could pick and choose what they want to do based on their schedules, ages, et cetera.” When I realize I’ve started to talk with my hands, I tuck them into my lap.

“It would give families who vacation the same week every year a chance to connect with other families and form friendships.” I nudge Jude again.

“ We met some of our favorite vacation buddies here, anyway.”

An amused smile dances across Ty’s face. “I think we just found our hype person, Jude.”

“Sorry.” I blush. “I just get excited talking about this stuff.”

“As does Jude.” He pulls up a new window on the computer and logs into his email. “Which is why I keep telling him to take the plunge and do this full-time. I never see him get this jazzed about cleaning houses or his pirate gig.”

I reach around a frozen Jude to retrieve my coffee mug and try to keep my expression neutral. “Pirate gig?”

Jude sighs, and Ty barks a laugh. “You haven’t told her? I don’t know why you’re so secretive about this, man. It’s just a job.”

I swivel around on my seat toward Jude and wait for an explanation. He sets his empty mug next to my nearly full one and sighs dramatically. “Fine. Have you ever heard of Ye Olde Dragon’s Treasure Cove?”

“Stop it!” I grab Jude’s arm with both hands. “You mean the dinner show I’ve been trying to talk my cousins into going to with me for years ? Oh my gosh, this is the coolest thing ever . Why didn’t you tell me?”

At this point, Tyler is cackling, and Jude has turned beet red.

“I’m booking a ticket right now.” I let go of his arm and stand. “When’s your next shift? Tonight?”

“Please don’t,” he groans.

“Why not?” I sink back onto the barstool, deflated.

“Because it’s embarrassing.” He rubs a hand across his forehead, leaving his damp hair sticking up at odd angles. It’s sort of adorable, and I feel slightly guilty for teasing him.

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing. I think it’s awesome.

” I force myself to take a sip of coffee to give myself time to gauge whether or not he’s genuinely upset.

I’m relieved when his eyes tell me he isn’t.

“Are you in the show?” I ask cautiously, my curiosity winning out.

“Do you get to fight the animatronic dragon? I’ve heard it looks very realistic. ”

“Right.” His signature timid grin returns. “Because there are so many real dragons to compare it to. And no, I’m not in the main show. I just wait tables.”

“Dressed as a pirate?”

Tyler snickers again.

“Yes.”

“Do you sing or dance or anything?” I press further.

He doesn’t answer. I want so badly to beg for details but decide I might have more success without Tyler here, so I switch courses. I have no shortage of questions about this venue. I pick the first that comes to mind. “Have you ever seen anyone get engaged there?”

“Um . . . no? What kind of question is that?”

“I just think it would be a romantic place for a proposal. Like, something you’d see in a book or movie.”

“I assure you, it would not.”

“Think about it though. The guy tells the girl, ‘Your heart is the greatest treasure I could ever be lucky enough to discover.’”

Tyler nearly spits out his water. “‘I’d fight a thousand dragons for you, my pirate queen,’” he suggests when he recovers.

“See? Ty appreciates the value of a grand gesture.”

“I didn’t say that exactly,” the surfer boy counters. “But it would make for a great story.”

I put a hand over my heart. “‘Sail off into the sunset with me?’ Tell me that’s not a little bit sweet, Jude.”

He scans my face and then Ty’s, appearing resigned to the fact that he’s clearly outnumbered.

“Oh, how about this one?” Ty slaps the counter. “‘Surrender your booty, my lady.’”

“Okay.” Jude scoots back from the counter as I giggle and takes his mug to the sink. “I think maybe we should get some work done.”

I pick up my now-lukewarm coffee and stand. “I’ll head upstairs, but just to be clear, I’m not done with this conversation.”

“I didn’t assume you were.” Jude chuckles. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I head across the living room to the stairs. “I need to see this pirate costume but other than that . . .”

“It’s the earring that really makes it,” Ty calls.

“See you later, Alex,” Jude yells, hurrying me along.

I’m in the bedroom doorway when Ty’s deep voice wafts upstairs. “She’s cute, man.”

“Don’t,” Jude warns. “You’re a great guy, but I know you’re not looking for something serious. And she’s special. She’s practically family.”

“I meant for you , dude.”

The quiet seconds that follow give me time to close the door so I won’t hear his answer.