Page 21 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs

Peeling off a sunburn

Unwrapping birthday gifts

Shucking corn for dinner:

I’ve spent a lot of time

Pulling back the layers of things

Unveiling something new beneath

To only now be brave enough

To try it on my heart

“I understand, sweetheart, but you need to stay in and take it easy today.” Mom inspected the stitches above my eyebrow with concern.

“But it’s not fair,” I sulked. “It’s not like I busted my head open on purpose.

” I adjusted the strap of the suit I’d dressed in this morning before my parents ruined the rest of my vacation and I’d had to watch dejectedly out the window as my cousins carried sand buckets across the street.

“What if I promise to be really careful? I won’t even get in the ocean. ”

“Alexandria.” Her tone assured me that this was the end of the discussion.

I stomped into the living room area and threw myself onto the couch, snatching up the remote.

I had just settled on some rerun I’d seen a million times already when Grandmama said a little too loudly from the kitchen, “I could really use an extra set of hands for this, but everyone seems to be busy today.”

“Hmm,” my mom answered. “Alex is here. I’m not sure if she’s up for it, but you are welcome to ask her.”

Intrigued, I rose from my throne of self-pity and walked to join them. “Ask me what?”

“Well.” Grandmama grinned warmly. “You are just the person I need for this. And I was hoping to catch up with you today, hear firsthand the story of your bravery yesterday. Have you ever shucked corn before?”

“No. But I’m a quick learner,” I assured her.

“Oh, I know you are.” She opened the back door, and I followed her down the narrow steps and under the deck where several large cardboard boxes overflowed with green ears of corn.

When she settled on the ground and patted the concrete beside her, I sat and took the vegetable she passed me.

“Now.” She held up the ear of corn in her hand. “We have to make sure we get all the leaves and silk off and clean them up good.” I watched her demonstrate and marveled at how quick and effortless she made it seem, certain I wouldn’t be as skilled at the process.

I was right. Getting the corn to the point where it was ready to cook was much harder than I’d have guessed. But as we sat and worked side by side, I was glad I’d stayed behind that morning.

As we finished up the first box and moved on to the second, a shadow blocked the sunlight, and I felt something wet drip on my bare leg. I squinted up at Sutton, Rebekah, and Elle.

“You guys are back already?”

“The waves were lame today,” Sutton explained.

Rebekah tossed her towel to the ground beside me and sat. “It wasn’t the same without you.”

Elle turned to Grandmama. “Can we help?”

“Wow.” Rebekah watched me strip the leaves off the corn in my hand. “You’re really good at this, Al.”

I waved her off. “Aw, shucks.”

“Please.” Sutton groaned. “That was the corniest joke I’ve ever heard.”

Elle tried her hand at a pun next but failed.

Sutton scoffed, but Rebekah threw the green strings in her hand at her. “Leaf Elle alone.”

“Kindness, girls,” Grandmama reminded us.

“Yes,” Elle agreed. “Kindness. Grandmama has spoken.”

Grandmama nodded resolutely. “She who has ears, let her hear.”

Even Sutton chuckled.

Corn, sausage, shrimp, and potatoes roll out of the giant upturned pot in Jude’s arms and onto the table I covered with newspaper this afternoon.

“Yum,” a tall girl with curly hair comments. “This looks incredible.”

“Right?” the guy standing next to her chimes in. “I mean, it could be because it’s after nine and I’m starving, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this ready to tear into a meal.”

Jude returns the empty pot to the counter where I’m filling glasses with ice. “Hey, thanks again for getting all this ready. I feel bad that I didn’t do much to help.”

“You were working. And, besides, I could make low country boil in my sleep if I needed to. I’m just excited I finally get to meet your mysterious work friends.”

He turns back to face the room. “Everybody ready to eat?”

Close to a dozen people crowd around the table. I moved all the chairs to the living room this afternoon so there’d be room for everyone to stand and eat in the kitchen or fix a plate and relocate.

Jude opts for a plate, and I watch Miss Curly Hair, who I’m now guessing is the infamous Norah, trail him to the couch and sit a little closer than he appears comfortable with. He shoots me a pleading glance which I answer with a suggestive wink before returning to fill my glass with sweet tea.

My cell phone buzzes in my back pocket; it’s a text from Jude: Please help.

Setting my phone aside and picking up my drink, I make my way through a small cluster of people and over to the couch where Jude is nonchalantly sliding his own cell back into his cargo shorts pocket.

“Hey there,” I croon saccharinely. “Mind if I sit here?”

Norah looks at the empty cushion on her other side. I wait until she begrudgingly slides over and situate myself between her and Jude. “I’m Alex,” I offer.

“Norah,” she confirms.

“You work with Jude?” I lean into Jude’s shoulder and watch her bristle. This is too much fun.

“I do.” She fakes a smile. “And how exactly do you know Jude?”

“We’re . . .” I purposefully hesitate for a beat. “Good friends. I live here.” I can’t look at Jude or my act will most certainly fall apart.

“Oh.” She puts more distance between us, and her entire demeanor changes. “I had no idea. He’s never mentioned you before.” She blushes. “I mean, we don’t talk much about life outside of work at work I guess.”

“No worries; I get it. We don’t usually talk about work much at home either.” I imagine the horrified face Jude is making and almost crack.

Norah uncomfortably shifts her attention to her plate. “This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” I smile. “I made it.”

“Mmm,” she grunts around a mouthful of potato. “But messy. I forgot to grab a napkin.” And with that, she stands and hurries away.

“Subtle,” Jude comments under his breath as I scoot over into Norah’s empty seat.

“You asked for help,” I whisper back.

“I did,” he concedes. “Thank you.”

“Jude!” A burly redhead approaches from the kitchen and plops down beside me, forcing me back to the middle of the couch. “Your place is amazing. Why have I never been here before?” He turns to me. “And who is this?”

“Alex.” I shake his hand as he tells me his name is Greg.

“I’m Jude’s favorite coworker,” he explains. “But don’t tell the others.” Jude’s arm slides protectively across the back of the couch behind me.

“So tell me, Greg,” I begin. “Have you ever seen the dragon lose his head before he’s supposed to?”

“Heather!” Greg calls across the room. “This girl wants to hear about the alternate script.”

And thus begins one of the most entertaining conversations I’ve ever been privy to.

It’s funny in the way that things only are at one in the morning when you’re simultaneously insanely tired and wide awake and have decided to do something spontaneous like leave a whole sink of dishes to soak while you go crab hunting in the middle of the night.

I swipe at the laughter-induced tears on my face as Jude turns off his phone screen and takes the net back from me. “That makes three people now who have asked when I’m hosting the next party and four who have texted just to say how much they like my girlfriend.”

“Sorry about that.” I shine the flashlight across the dark sand, watching for movement.

“For keeping Norah away from me or for majorly increasing my cool factor at work?”

“I don’t know, that pirate earring is pretty cool. There!” A tiny crustacean freezes in the beam of artificial light, and Jude runs over to it, foregoing the net and pinching its shell between his fingers before hurrying back to drop it in the bucket I’m carrying.

“How many is that now?”

I angle the flashlight toward the bucket, watching the tiny transparent crabs climb on top of one another and trying to ignore how close they are to my hand. “A lot.”

“You’re not scared of crabs, are you?” he questions. “This was your idea. Don’t you guys do this every year?”

“No, I’m not scared,” I defend myself. “I just don’t want to touch them.”

Jude pulls his phone from his pocket again and chuckles. “‘Thanks for dinner, Jude. Your fiancée is adorable.’ Well, that escalated quickly.”

“Nope. No way.” I shake my head. “Your coworkers should know better than to think we’d be engaged.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He sounds insulted.

“Because the only marriage proposal I would have accepted would have happened at the show; they would have seen it.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He takes the bucket from me. “Ready to set these guys free?”

“I guess so. We usually all stand in a big circle and my uncle dumps all the buckets in the middle at the same time. This feels sort of anticlimactic.”

“I don’t know. I feel like this might be just as much of an adrenaline rush.” His words have hardly registered when he tips the bucket over and empties a pile of wriggling creatures at our feet.

I scream and drop the flashlight, watching in slow motion as the batteries pop out and everything goes dark.

Then, I feel the tiny legs scurry across my bare toes.

“Jude!” I almost tackle him in my attempt to escape.

It’s all over in a matter of seconds, but it’s going to take hours for my heart rate to slow back down to normal.

“Ouch!” Jude yells.

“Did they pinch you?”

“No,” he laughs. “But I can’t feel my arm. Your nails are sharp.”

I loosen my grip. “ Why would you do that ?”

“You told me you weren’t scared. And they’re harmless.”

I realize I’m standing on his foot and move. “I also said I didn’t want to touch them.”

“I didn’t know they were going to run straight for you.

Or that you were going to scream loud enough to wake the whole island.

We should probably get out of here before someone calls security on us.

” He turns on his phone flashlight and hands it to me while he locates the batteries and tries to repair the light I dropped.

“I think this one’s done for good,” he says as he knocks it against his palm a few times. “Where’s your phone?”

“Somewhere in your kitchen.”

“Okay.” He drops the broken flashlight into the bucket and slides his arm through it. “Grab the net, and I’ll give you a ride back to the steps.”

I loop my arms around his neck, and he hoists me onto his back while I struggle to hang onto the net and hold the phone steady enough to give him enough light to see where he’s going.

“I’m going to have nightmares about crabs,” I tell him.

“My fault.” He keeps walking. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll watch Little Women with you.”

If I didn’t know he had to get up early to work, I’d suggest we watch it either way. “Sorry I broke your flashlight.”

“It’s fine. We’ll put a new one on the wedding registry.”

“The wedding is off. You’re a great guy, but if dumping a bucket of sea creatures on someone’s feet isn’t reason to break off an engagement, I don’t know what is.”

“Fair enough. But do me a favor?” He sets me down on the steps. “Don’t tell Norah.”