By Friday, I wondered if any kind of normal would ever be possible with Gina around. Zoey’s birthday wasn’t starting out the way I wanted it to. Zoey was mad because I wouldn’t let her take the day off school. Gina picked that moment to roust herself from sleeping on the sofa and lumber to Zoey’s defense, and the morning started with an argument that felt weirdly typical. Fortunately Gina was too hungover to fight very hard, and really she just wanted everyone to stop making noise so early in the morning. Once Zoey and J.T. were out the door, she stumbled to my bed, pulled the comforter over her head, and went back to sleep.
I left for the Seashell Shop, limping along on a spare tire that needed air and feeling like a lousy mom. I was barely in the door when Sandy wheedled a confession out of me, and the next thing I knew, she and the sisterhood were deep in a plan to arrange a surprise party for Zoey that evening. Before long, we’d called everyone we could think of to make a crowd —Brother Guilbeau, Bink and Geneva, Greg and Crystal from Boathouse Barbecue, a couple other shopkeepers Zoey had gotten to know. I called Gina’s cell, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message inviting her to the party. Ross was headed to meet his buddies at the beach, but he promised he would show up at the shop in time. Sandy texted her afternoon shopgirls, Stephanie and Megan, and arranged for them to grab Zoey after school and tell her she was needed at Sandy’s. On the way, they would delay a bit with a trip to the grocery store so that Paul and J.T. could get to the shop and join the party group.
When I tried to thank Sandy, she just smiled and said, “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t even be open if it weren’t for you.” Then she pulled me into a shoulder hug and added, “Besides, this is how the sisterhood works. We take care of each other. There are all different kinds of sisters, Tandi. Not just the ones you’re born with.”
The phone rang, and she released me so she could cross the room and answer it. A minute later, she was laughing and saying, “Well, I think that sounds just great. I’ll call some more people. We’ll make it a combination birthday bash and grand reopening party. We haven’t danced out on the deck since last fall before the hurricane. This will be a night to remember, to put all the bad times behind us and celebrate.”
Sharon and I were watching her quizzically when she hung up the phone.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Sharon paused with a necklace dangling from her fingers, the green beach glass twisting in the glow of display lights.
Sandy’s eyes twinkled. “Brother Guilbeau just called. He wondered if we’d like a little zydeco music —said his band hasn’t played anywhere in a while, and they need to tune up. I told him sure. If we’re going to have a party, we might as well really make it a blowout celebration, right? It’s Friday night, and heaven only knows it’s time for some joy around here. Neither can flood nor pestilence nor building inspectors with attitude overcome those who labor justly. Amen?”
“A-men!” Sharon agreed and pumped a fist. She and I exchanged giddy looks before Sandy put us both to work. Zoey’s birthday party was taking on a life of its own.
The rest of the day was taken up with party planning and wild preparations. When Sandy seized on an idea, the woman was a force of nature. By afternoon, Boathouse Barbecue was planning to open its doors for a five-dollar barbecue-and-boiled-shrimp buffet, and the bakery down the street was remaking a failed wedding cake into a birthday-slash-grand-reopening centerpiece. At the Seashell Shop, we baked cookies as fast as we could in the single oven that wasn’t meant for large baking jobs.
“I don’t know if you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into,” I told Brother Guilbeau when he and his band arrived with equipment to set up on the patio.
“Hoo-eee! We gonna have us a good time tonight!” Brother Guilbeau laughed. “I got the information out to ever’body on my list. Half the island’s gonna be here. We gonna celebrate this day!”
“It looks like we are.” I handed him an extension cord from Sandy and went back inside to try to call Gina again. I’d phoned the house and her cell, but she hadn’t answered. Standing there with my hand on the button, I had the fleeting thought that it might be for the best if she didn’t answer. When Gina partied, she really liked to party, and though mixed drinks weren’t on the menu at Sandy’s, there was a bar right down the street. What if my sister got lit and embarrassed Zoey and all the rest of us?
I didn’t call her again and instead started hoping she wouldn’t get my messages.
By three thirty, everything was in place. Paul had brought J.T. from school, our small crowd of friends was milling around in the shop, and we were just waiting for Zoey to arrive and kick off the celebration.
“What time did you say this shindig was supposed to happen?” Ross was impatient. He’d left the water to come. As soon as we blew out the candles and cut the cake, he was planning to head back to the beach for a couple hours, then return later, once the grand reopening party really cranked up.
“Any minute now. At least stay until Zoey gets here and opens her presents, okay?” Ross had even thought to bring a gift for Zoey —something wrapped in a surf shop bag. I wanted him to see the driftwood box. Paul had seen it as I was working on it, but Ross hadn’t. I was proud of the way the box had turned out. Watching Zoey unwrap it and find the note and sea glass necklace inside would be fun. I hoped she liked it.
“Okay, okay.” Ross checked his watch again, then scanned the room, his gaze drawing a bead on J.T. and Paul, who were messing around in one corner of the sandbox, Paul sitting on his knees like a little kid. “You sure Zoey’s gonna like this whole party thing? I mean, hanging out with a bunch of old people isn’t exactly a teenager’s idea of fun.”
A sliver of worry needled me. Not that I hadn’t thought of that possibility as the party morphed into something so elaborate, but I didn’t need to hear it out loud.
The phone rang, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Sandy motioning me to the front counter. The look on her face told me instantly that something was wrong. My mind tripped, stumbled, and fell into action —car wreck, trouble at school . . . Maybe Stephanie and Megan missed Zoey after classes let out. Maybe Rowdy or someone else gave her a ride. But why wouldn’t she come on to the Shell Shop? She usually works in the afternoons . . .
Sandy covered the phone when I reached the counter. “It’s Megan. She and Stephanie are in the administration office. Zoey’s not at school. The secretary says your sister checked her out hours ago.”
“What?”
Sandy handed me the phone, and I talked briefly to Megan and then to the school secretary. Gina had taken Zoey shopping for her birthday.
“I’m really sorry,” the secretary pleaded. “Zoey didn’t seem worried about it. I definitely got the idea that the shopping trip was something planned.”
“It was, but not today.” When I did find my sister, I was going to choke her. I really was. How dare she pick up my daughter without even asking me. Didn’t she even consider that I probably had plans, that this was Zoey’s birthday and I wanted to be with her?
I knew the answer. Of course she didn’t, because this was Gina, and she always did these things. Whatever felt good in the moment. Whatever she wanted.
As soon as I was off the phone with the school, I called her cell again. I was conscious of Sandy staring at me with fire in her eyes. If Gina did bring Zoey here, I wouldn’t have to kill her. The sisterhood would do it for me.
Gina’s line rang and went to voice mail. The message I left probably sizzled the air between the shop and the nearest cell tower.
Sandy announced a change of plans for the party. “Okay, little delay!” she chirped. “The birthday girl surprised us, I guess. She’s out shopping with her aunt. We’ll just go ahead with the Sandy’s Seashell Shop grand reopening party, and when Zoey gets here, we’ll break out the cake and candles.”
When the crowd didn’t immediately switch gears, Sandy fanned her hands, giving everyone the shoo-shoo. “Now, come on, everybody! Don’t be shy. Greg and Crystal, you’d better get that buffet going. I sent out e-mails all over town, and I put it on the Facebook page. Before you can blink, people will be bubbling up on the deck like ghost crabs under a full moon. Brother Guilbeau, you and your boys grab a bite of food while you can. We’ll be needing some good music pretty quick. I’m ready to dance! The storm came, the storm went, and we’re still here. If that’s not a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is!”
As the guests filed out to the patio, I called Gina’s phone again. No answer.
CHAPTER 23