Page 28 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs
Church at the beach is always at ten. But it never starts until at least ten-fifteen when the last group of teenagers shuffles into a row of metal folding chairs and a couple guitars start to strum.
Most of the kids are having “Sunday School” led by my Aunt Clara in one of the houses down by the pier, but Marcail is sleeping on Sutton’s shoulder.
Judging by her and Chris’s bleary eyes, they had a rocky night.
I’m situated between Rebekah and Elle, with my parents directly in front of us.
I smile, remembering the way my daddy wrapped me in his arms last night and jokingly called me his “prodigal girl returned.” I didn’t remind him that I’ve been here the whole time and they came to me.
“I thought something might be wrong because of how little we’ve heard from you,” my mom said.
“But you look happy. Seems like this summer is exactly what you needed.” If she only knew how true that was.
We belt out two songs all together, and then Rebekah moves to the front and sings a solo, accompanied by Elias on guitar. She’s always had the voice of an angel. As I watch Sutton stroke Marcie’s back, I miss her more than I have in a long time.
Rebekah returns to her seat, and my Uncle James gets up to preach. Between beach trips and many childhood weeks spent at the summer camp he runs, I’ve learned from and been encouraged by dozens of his sermons.
When Elle opens her Bible, a faded photo of the four of us sitting in the hammock several summers ago falls out and flutters to the ground.
I reach down to retrieve it, and that’s when I hear it: the slam of a sliding door and a loud childlike voice that doesn’t belong to anyone in our makeshift congregation.
Everyone’s attention briefly pulls toward the porch of the house across the yard where a dark-haired little boy is climbing into his uncle’s lap in one of the rocking chairs.
Sutton audibly gasps, and Rebekah reaches over and squeezes my arm so hard I’m sure it’ll leave a mark.
Elle takes a second to let it sink in, but then her eyes go wide and a huge smile splits her face.
Here we go.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Elle punches my bicep for the fifth time in an hour.
“I told you, I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“So that white car was yours all along?” Rebekah asks Jude. “I knew it.”
Jude nods and takes a bite of his sandwich, the one Elle made while she peppered me with questions I strategically dodged, the one that has mayonnaise on it because there is no reason I should know he doesn’t like it.
“Sorry you guys missed Gavin,” he says. “I know he would’ve loved to see you.” I can feel Sutton glaring at me, but I don’t look back.
“We’re headed out to the ocean after lunch if you want to join us,” Elle offers.
“Can we, Uncle Jude? Please?” Donovan implores around a mouthful of corn chips.
“I have to work in a little while, but we can see if your mom’s awake and ask her if she’s up for it.”
“We can keep an eye on him if Kelsey is okay with that,” I offer without thinking twice. Donovan nods his head enthusiastically. He looks so much like Jude the day we first met him on the beach.
Sutton yawns and stands. “I’m going to lie down with Marcie for a little while, but I’ll join you guys later.
” She stacks her paper plate on top of her Styrofoam cup.
“It’s so good to see you again, Jude. I hope we can catch up more this week.
” And before I can dissect her tone or the hurt baked into the glance she throws me, she’s gone.
Jude gathers everyone else’s trash in a pile on the table in front of him and reaches over to tousle Donovan’s hair. “Let’s go talk to your mom, and then I’ll see if I can find my old boogie board under the house.”
The sun beats down on our faces.
Camped out on our towels, we watch Elias toss the little kids, Donovan included, into the waves in front of us.
Elle’s laugh sounds like pure sunshine itself.
Rebekah sighs contentedly. Chris sets Marcie down, the frills of her monogrammed bathing suit rippling in the wind.
As far as I can see in either direction, the shore is dotted with people I adore.
Marcie’s chubby hand closes around a clump of sand, and she raises it to her face and giggles with delight.
As Sutton watches her daughter fall in love with the beach, her whole countenance brightens.
In this moment, everything is more than perfect.
“So.” Rebekah leans over and lowers her sunglasses. “Other than reuniting with our long-lost friends and keeping it top secret, what else have you been up to these past couple weeks?”
I study the fading crab imprinted on the side of my foot. “Just waiting for you guys to get here.”