Firefly Beach (30 page)

“Do you have any jeans?”

Jennifer laughed. “Where did you put my suitcase?”

Jennifer changed into a pair of faded jeans and new running shoes, and she joined an anxious Beth waiting in the living room. The auburn-haired lady stopped when she saw the photo of herself and her mother on the mantel.

“Is this me?” she asked.

“Yes. And that is Katherine, your mother.”

Jennifer looked longingly at the photo. “May I keep this?”

“Oh…uh…sure, of course,” Beth answered reluctantly. “It’s only a photocopy. Your grandfather has the original.” She secretly hoped that Jennifer would choose not to take it. But Jennifer began to open the clips on the back of the frame. “Keep the frame.”

“Are you sure?”

“I insist.”

“Thanks. Let me just put it with my things.” She ran upstairs.

Beth touched the place where the photo had stood. She became aware of how empty her life had become over the decade that preceded her move to Maine. So much so that she had cherished a photo of two people she did not know. She wondered what she might put in its place, perhaps photos from her old albums – her father, her mother in her later years – or other memories she could frame and enjoy. The passion of the Thompson girls had awakened something inside of her, something she did not wish to return to slumber.

“I’m ready,” Jennifer called as she popped her head into the living room.

“Let’s go.”

Beth grabbed her backpack, which contained a blanket, a bottle of water, and a couple of snacks. She threw it over her shoulder and led Jennifer out the door and into the forest.

“It is magical here,” Jennifer said.

“Oh, the magic has hardly begun,” Beth replied with a playful tone in her voice.

Jennifer laughed and shook her head.

They walked gently through the forest, barely uttering a word. Leaves and sticks crackled beneath their feet. Beth led Jennifer to the cliff that overlooked her mother’s secret beach. “Get down like this,” she instructed, “and scoot to the edge.”

Jennifer did as instructed. “Wow!” she exclaimed when she saw the beach. “Amazing.”

“Now follow me,” Beth said, turning around and shuffling backwards until she found the first foothold. “You may want to watch me first before you try it.”

Jennifer bit her lip. “I’m a little afraid of heights.”

“You and me both. But, believe me, it’s worth it.”

Jennifer watched Beth and then cautiously made the trip on her own. It took nearly twenty minutes, but she made it down. She clutched her hands to her chest and breathed in the fresh air. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

Beth laid out the blanket near the edge of the rocks, hoping the incoming tide would not reach it. She placed the bottle of water and the snacks on one corner. Then she glanced inconspicuously at the handkerchief to confirm that it was still visible.

“Well, you’re on your own.”

“What?” Jennifer replied, bewildered.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Beth removed the key and chain from her neck and put it over Jennifer’s head. “Welcome to your past.”

Jennifer continued to stare at her with a puzzled expression. “I don’t understand, I—”

“You think you can find the way back?”

“I…uh, I guess so.”

“Okay then, have a nice afternoon.” Beth grinned as she scaled the cliff.

* * * *

Jennifer shook her head and looked around. Then she noticed the little red flag waving, as if extending an invitation. She glanced down at the key around her neck. “Let’s see what’s up there.”

* * * *

Beth was making a mandarin salad with chicken when she heard the door open and close quietly. She saw Jennifer take off the backpack and lay it on the floor. Jennifer retrieved the diary, clutched it to her chest, and walked toward the kitchen. As the young woman approached Beth, her makeup gone and her eyes slightly red, she smiled. “Thank you.”

“I believe it is exactly what your mother would have wanted.”

“Yes. It was fun and sad and moving all at the same time. I’ll remember this day for as long as I live.”

“I’m glad it meant so much to you. I had hoped it would.”

Jennifer pointed nervously toward the door. “I wasn’t able to fit the lockbox in the backpack, with the blanket and all, but I packed up all the wrappings so they wouldn’t litter the beach.”

“No problem. We’ll get it later. Why don’t you come wash up and join me for dinner.”

* * * *

The waning moon did not rise until nearly 10:00 p.m., but the two women sat on lawn chairs in the backyard, sipping wine, as the gibbous orb rose and drifted across the sky. They shared stories – their successes as well as their heartaches. Beth told Jennifer about many of the things she had discovered and investigated since she had moved to Maine. She left out the firefly and touched only briefly on the dreams. She was not sure how the rational young woman would react to such implausible tales. Beth decided it would make more sense to discuss the ghostly encounter when the firefly made an official appearance. Therefore, instead, she focused on the details of finding the diary, meeting Rod Thompson, and hunting down Katherine’s acquaintances. Jennifer seemed to drink up every word as if they were drops of water in the desert.

Jennifer had enjoyed a peaceful childhood in upstate New York. She went to private schools, and she graduated from Columbia with an MBA. She was currently the CFO for a small textiles company in Manchester, New Hampshire.

As the ladies chatted in the moonlight, the firefly sneaked up behind them. Beth saw it from the corner of her eye. She waited for Jennifer’s reaction. Jennifer was talking about her boyfriend, soon to be – she hoped – her fiancé. The firefly flew in graceful circles around the two women, but Jennifer continued to tell her story as if nothing unordinary was occurring.

She doesn’t see you,
Beth realized.
Why doesn’t she see you?

Beth’s mind drifted away. She tried to focus on Jennifer’s intriguing account, but she was distracted by the firefly who had, by then, come to a complete halt inches from Jennifer’s nose. Jennifer stopped talking suddenly and sighed.

“Anyway, blah, blah, blah. I hope I’m not boring you.”

“Oh…uh, not at all.”

“It is so beautiful here. It is amazing. Isn’t it amazing?” Jennifer gazed out toward the bay. She seemed to look right through the firefly.

“I am still in awe,” Beth replied absentmindedly, her eyes darting between the firefly and Jennifer.

The firefly hovered. Jennifer said nothing.

She can’t see you.

Then, as if it understood, the firefly drifted away, pausing now and again. Beth bit her lip and tried not to cry.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” Beth forced a weak smile. “It’s just been an intense day.”

Jennifer sighed. “Yes, it has. But it’s been perfect. Thank you, Beth. I don’t know how to thank you.”

The firefly drifted into the forest and slipped out of view.

“Uh…it has been my pleasure, really.”

They gathered the wine glasses and retreated to the house.

* * * *

Five minutes after they had said
good night,
Jennifer appeared in Beth’s bedroom doorway holding up her portrait.

“What is this?” Jennifer asked sharply.

Beth almost laughed. The two of them, lady and painting, side by side, looking almost like twins. “That’s kind of hard to explain.”

Jennifer walked into the room and propped the painting against Beth’s dresser. “I’m listening,” she said with a slight edge in her voice.

“Ever since the diary, I envisioned that girl. You, I guess. So I painted her.”

“You envisioned this?” Jennifer said, gesturing to the painting.

“Yes. I don’t know how else to explain it. I saw it here.” She pointed to her head. “And I put it there.” She indicated the painting.

“You are a strange woman, Beth LaMonte.”

“Tell me about it.”

The tension broke when Jennifer started laughing. Beth joined her. Jennifer looked back at the painting and shuddered. “Can we keep it in here tonight? It kind of gives me the creeps.”

“Absolutely,” Beth said, still laughing.

“Don’t you think it is weird?”

Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Kind of psychic or something,” Jennifer said, tapping her finger on her chin.

“I guess so.”

“It is as if you and I and my mother, we’re all connected somehow – through the diary, or through this place.” She walked over to the window and looked into the woodland toward the secret beach. She stared out into the night for several minutes. “I was conceived there.”

“What?”

Beth was lost in her own thoughts. Should she tell Jennifer about the firefly? Should she explain her theory that it is really the ghost of Katherine? It sounded ridiculous even as she considered it. What good would it do to try and convince a no-nonsense woman like Jennifer to believe in something that only Beth could see? She risked losing Jennifer’s trust. Nothing would be gained from it. And Jennifer, who had experienced an eventful day discovering her past, would only find it confusing and disturbing. Beth decided to leave it alone.

“I was probably conceived there…on that beach.”

“Oh,” Beth said, returning from her musings. “You’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“It’s kind of weird…I never knew where I was conceived,” she said wistfully, continuing to stare out the window. “A beach is pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Beth replied, trying to chase away images of her early unpleasant sexual experiences and all the dreadful thoughts and curses that accompanied them.

“Ooh, that’s weird,” Jennifer said, stepping back.

“What?”

“I thought I saw a small flash of light.”

Beth jumped up and looked out the window. Outside, the firefly hovered a few feet away.

Jennifer’s shoulders quivered as if she were trying to shake a spider. “It’s gone now.”

The light creature twirled and danced.

“Must have been a firefly,” Beth mumbled.

“On the coast? Anyway…” Jennifer turned to face Beth. “Nice painting.” She pointed to the portrait, raised her eyebrows lightheartedly, and moved to exit the room.

“Thanks,” Beth said, somewhat dumbfounded. She smiled at Jennifer and turned back to watch the firefly. It continued to spin and swirl.

“Good night,” Jennifer called from her room before closing the studio door.

“Good night.”

Beth turned back toward the window and whispered, “She saw you.”

Chapter 29

Out of the Blue

The next morning, after breakfast, the ladies prepared for their meeting with Rod Thompson. It wasn’t actually a meeting; it was more of an ambush. Beth decided this was the best approach. They could retreat at any time for any reason.

Jennifer descended the stairs dressed in her olive green suit, her hair drawn back at one temple. She wore a small silver and green pendant in the shape of a teardrop around her neck. She looked absolutely stunning.

“Whew,” Jennifer said. “I’m rather nervous.”

“Don’t be. Remember what you said about your Pa Pa? You have nothing to lose and, perhaps, something to gain.”

“I know. But suddenly the fear of rejection is rearing its ugly head.”

Beth placed her hands on Jennifer’s shoulders. “Listen. There are many people who will be overjoyed to have you in their lives, myself included. There’s Mary and Lou at the bed and breakfast and their mother, Abigail, who are just dying to meet you. Most importantly, your former godparents, Linda and Wyatt Benning, have been searching for you for decades. If the old fart scoffs and turns away, there will be plenty of love and appreciation to fill the hole he leaves behind.”

Jennifer nodded her head quickly, still appearing nervous but also somewhat comforted.

“Have you got everything?” Beth asked, grabbing her purse.

“I think so.”

Beth opened the door, pausing as Jennifer approached. “Wait,” she cried.

Beth ran upstairs and returned in less than a minute with something in her hand. She gently removed the clip from Jennifer’s hair and replaced it with the dogwood comb created by Kenny McLeary. Beth stepped back and examined Jennifer.

“There. Much better.”

Jennifer touched her head and crossed to the mirror in the hall. “It’s the one from the painting,” she said.

“Custom made for you.”

Jennifer crinkled her brow and threw Beth a goofy grin. “I almost believe that.”

“Then do,” Beth said, beaming.

They arrived at the marina at about half past nine o’clock. As they emerged from the car, Jennifer smoothed her skirt, and Beth cleared her throat.

“We’ll check here first. He’s most likely to be on
The Bottomless Blue.
But you never know. If we don’t find him here, we’ll try his house.”

“
The Bottomless Blue?
”

“His sailboat.”

Jennifer looked down at her shoes. “I’m not properly dressed for a sailboat,” she mumbled.

Beth smirked and shook her head. “Why don’t you concentrate on dazzling the gentleman first? Then you can worry about your apparel.”

Jennifer giggled nervously. “Right. Let’s roll.”

Beth and Jennifer approached the dock warily. “You had better stay here,” Beth cautioned when they were still ten feet from the shore. “If he’s going to have a fit, we’ll keep you at a distance.”

This comment seemed to trouble Jennifer but she nodded in agreement.

Beth began to doubt the wisdom of springing an unannounced visit on Rod Thompson. Her breathing quickened as she approached the boat. She glanced back to check on Jennifer. The red-haired woman was standing obediently where she had been told to stop. While Beth’s head was turned, Rod emerged from the cabin of the boat.

He looked at her curiously. “Beth LaMonte?” he said quietly, a slight warmth in his voice. “What brings you here this morning?”

Rod’s gentle tone startled Beth, but it did not dispel her anxiety. She ran her fingers through her hair nervously. “I really should have called you. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Is there trouble at the cabin?”