Sixteen
Sophie arrived at the museum at eight a.m. sharp. Mac James dropped off Frank Cates at five minutes after eight. Frank entered the shop in a huff.
“The boy made me late.” Frank pointed a finger at Mac. “I was ready to leave when he decided to change clothes. Again. He was as fussy as a girl this morning.”
Heat reddened Mac’s neck.
Sophie noticed he’d cleaned up his act. No T-shirt or board shorts today. Instead, he wore a white polo shirt, khaki Dockers, and loafers without socks. His hair was still damp from his morning shower. He’d taken the time to shave. He looked good.
“What’s the occasion?” Sophie asked him, curious.
Mac shifted his weight. He seemed unable to stand still. “Jenna agreed to have breakfast with me before I leave,” he said. “My flight’s scheduled for eleven. This will be my last chance to see her until after the tournament.”
His expression was torn. She knew he had to leave town, but sensed that a big part of him wanted to stay. Volleyball would win out in the end. The sand was where he made his living. He owed it to Dune.
She wondered if he’d heard from his partner. She bit down on her bottom lip, unable to hide her feelings.
Mac read her expression and said, “Not a word from him, Sophie. I’m certain he’ll contact you once he knows the status of the procedure.”
“I’m hoping for good news.”
“Healed or not, I know Dune. He’ll play this weekend,” Mac said. “He won’t forfeit.”
“Jen and I plan to watch the match at my house,” Sophie said. She turned to Frank. “You’re welcome to join us, too. I have a large plasma television.”
“By large, she means one hundred and fifty-two inches.” Mac encouraged him to watch the match with the girls. “You’d feel like you were sitting in the stands.”
Frank scratched his jaw. “I’ll have my driver’s license by Saturday. I just may join you.”
“You’ll have the best seat in the house,” Sophie promised him.
Mac left then, to meet up with Jenna.
With his departure, Sophie found herself alone with Frank. What she’d read in Evan’s journal weighed heavily on her mind. It was as if she had the key to unlock the door to a new future for Barefoot William.
She motioned him toward the lone chair in the shop. “Take a seat, Frank. I have something to show you.”
Frank cast her a wary glance, but did her bidding. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you delivering bad news?” he asked.
“Bad or good, I’m not certain how you’ll feel,” she said with a sigh.
Sophie reached inside her purse and produced the leather journals. She’d wrapped them in a soft cloth for safekeeping. She removed them now and handed them to Frank. “Here are Evan Saunders’s daybooks.”
Frank was taken aback. “Where’d you get these?”
“My mother gave them to me yesterday. They chronicle his last years with William. Read his entries carefully and without prejudice. I assure you, they will alter the history of Barefoot William as you know it.”
Frank held the journals on his lap for several minutes, as if he was hesitant to read them. He was stalling, Sophie thought, but she gave him the space he needed.
“I’m going to Brews Brothers for coffee,” she decided. A walk down the boardwalk and back would give him plenty of time to process the entries. “Would you like a cup?”
Frank nodded, but didn’t look up. “Make mine white.”
Sophie understood. He wanted cream added.
“A cinnamon bun would be nice, too,” he said.
Frank had a sweet tooth, Sophie noted. There was an easy recipe for scones in her new cookbook. She could make them for him sometime. How difficult could that be?
Stepping outside the shop, she walked slowly along the sidewalk toward the boardwalk, a half-block away. She glanced in the window at Molly Malone’s and saw Jen and Mac seated together in a booth. Mac held Jenna’s hand and she allowed it. They had publicly become a couple.
Sophie couldn’t help but smile. Should they continue as they were, she would collect on her final bet with Dune. There was an engagement in their future. She could feel it in her bones. The wild man of volleyball was about to settle down. His female fans would weep.
After a quick stop at the coffee shop, Sophie headed back to the museum. A seagull circled overhead, sweeping low, then diving for bread crumbs left on the boardwalk from someone’s breakfast sandwich. Sophie managed to juggle the coffee and cinnamon buns without mishap. Her coordination had improved and so had her confidence.
On her return, she found Frank standing before the front window. His shoulders slumped. His eyes were red-rimmed. He caught her staring at him and stuffed a crumpled handkerchief into his pants pocket. He looked sad.
She crossed the room and set down their coffee cups and cinnamon buns on the chair, then stood beside him.
Frank clutched the journals to his chest. “So much hate over so many years. A man gets old fast with that much hatred inside him,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Grudges and bad blood lasted a century. Maya sure took her time in delivering the truth.”
“My mother saw no reason to smooth the waters,” said Sophie. “Not until I was appointed curator of the museum. She thought I’d portray Evan Saunders in a bad light and tell his story only as the Cateses saw him. She felt the journals would give me a new perspective on their relationship.”
“Have they helped you?” he asked.
Sophie nodded. She felt strong and secure in her heritage. “Had William lived, their joint projects might have unified the two towns.”
“We’ll never know,” said Frank.
He grew quiet, looking out the window toward the Gulf. The sun glinted off the water. Vendors pushed their carts along the boardwalk, selling cotton candy and churros to tourists.
What was he thinking? Sophie wondered. That it was too late to undue years of feuding? Or that the two families could come together after all these years?
Frank took a deep breath, pulled his hand down his chin, and turned back to her. “William and Evan were both stubborn, opinionated men. They needed two lifetimes, maybe even three, to settle all their differences.”
He passed the journals back to her. “What do you plan to do with them?” he asked.
“I’m going to photocopy the final entries that Evan wrote about his friendship with William,” she told him. “With your permission, I’d like to read the entries at the dedication ceremony. Once the museum opens, I want to put them on permanent display.”
Frank sat down and thought about the journals for a good long time. His head was bowed as he took the lid off the coffee cup marked with a “C” for cream. He took a sip, then ate two bites of his cinnamon bun before saying, “What happened between our families couldn’t be changed then, but it can be now. Shaye is important to me. It’s time I accept Trace.”
He looked up at Sophie over the rim of his cup. “Whatever their reasons, my family has already accepted you. You snuck in when I wasn’t looking.”
“I love your grandson,” she said before she could stop herself. She blushed.
“He has feelings for you, too, girl,” said Frank, “but first things first with Dune. He faces a big weekend ahead. His career is on the line.”
Sophie swallowed hard, hoping for the best.
“Man, Sophie, your TV is bigger than the one at the Blue Coconut,” Kai Cates said when he and Nicole stopped by on Saturday afternoon. “Hope you don’t mind if we watch the tournament with you.”
“You two are always welcome.” She was glad to see them both. And everyone else who just happened to be in the neighborhood.
Twenty members of the Cates family now gathered in Sophie’s den, a few stretched out on the marble floor. Dune and Mac had climbed the leader board and would soon face cousins Scott and Sean Taylor in the final match.
The doorbell rang again. This time it was Shaye and Trace arriving with blue and red tortilla chips and spicy avocado dip. Jenna was behind them. She’d packed a cooler with icy cold sodas and beer. Everyone wore either a Beach Heat or Ace-hole T-shirt.
Sophie went into the kitchen and made popcorn in the microwave. She burned the first bag. Frank pronounced the second one edible, although he picked out the black kernels.
She settled on the sofa between Frank and Jen. She leaned forward as the sports announcer relayed both professional and personal facts on the world-class players. This was a match between the first and third seeds. The Taylors were out to dethrone Cates and James.
The camera panned the beach, showcasing the crisp Huntington Beach shoreline from the pier to the sand court. Aqua Gold sponsored the sanctioned tournament. Long billowing banners caught the brisk wind blowing south of the pier. The hostesses’ tents were set up around the perimeters of the bleachers. Bikini-clad beauties passed out samples of the suntan oil.
The sun was high, and the sky was clear. Beachcombers walked the compact sand at low tide. Bicyclists checked out the action as they cruised along nearby asphalt paths. Onlookers peered down at the beach through coin-operated telescopes mounted on the pier. Volleyball fans had turned out in droves. Swimsuits were the attire. It was standing room only.
The camera swung over to Dune and Mac as they appeared on the court. They wore white tanks, black board shorts, and sunglasses. The fans went crazy. Men admired their athletic ability. Women wanted their bodies.
Sophie studied Dune as he prepared for what she knew was the most important match of his life. Wanting so bad for him to do well, she squeezed her fists together so tight, her nails dug into her palms. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He swung his arms, rolled his shoulders, warming up. He rotated his wrists. He looked in good shape, she thought, but he’d yet to serve, had yet to spike the ball.
Most matches lasted forty minutes, give or take. It would be nail-biting for her. Jenna looked just as nervous as Sophie felt.
Sophie did have one thing to keep her grounded. She’d spoken to Dune the previous evening. It had been good to hear his voice. They’d talked about the museum, the hamsters, and her newfound friendship with Frank. But when she’d asked about his medical procedure, he’d skirted the issue, saying only that he was okay. She had no idea if the injections were successful or how he would play today.
She heard the referee blow the starting whistle and the first set began. Sophie’s heart was in her throat when Dune got into position. He stood behind the backline, ready to serve. His expression was fierce, his body taut. He rose up and—
“Ace! He spiked the shit out of the ball,” Kai shouted, pumping his arm in the air. “Sorry, ladies, but that was one hell of an ace.”
“Damn fine,” Frank agreed. “Dune’s making a statement.”
He definitely was, Sophie thought, cheering him on in her heart. He set the mood for the match, going with a fast offense. Sean Tyler was next to serve.
“Sean’s sporadic at best,” Shaye told Sophie in a calm voice. She knew the players’ weaknesses. “On a good day, he’s solid. On a bad one, he’ll serve out of bounds.”
Sean started out strong. He hammered his serve.
Dune met the ball at the net. Scott came back, setting the ball while Sean hooked it down. Mac couldn’t reach it in time. The score was tied one-one. Mac would now serve.
Sophie bit down on her bottom lip, leaving her bowl of popcorn untouched. She watched as the score climbed. At seven-seven they changed sides. A short time later, the score was Cates and James 20, the Taylors 19. Mac was at the serving line. He and Dune needed the point to win by two and claim the set.
“Mac feeds off the pressure,” Jenna said with confidence. She squeezed her soda can so tight she dented the aluminum.
“Dune and Mac are bringing the energy,” said Kai. “They’re both jacked.”
Seconds later and Mac rose up for his serve. He pounded the ball to the far left corner. Scott Taylor was fast. He made the save, tipping the ball for Sean’s return.
Dune was a big blocker at the net.
Mac dropped back and played deep.
Sean tapped the ball. Dune was ready when it clipped the net. He jumped up and stuffed one down. The point went to Cates and James.
Sophie fell back into the soft leather, relieved. They’d won the first set.
“Dune’s an intuitive blocker,” said Shaye. “He sees a play even before it happens.”
Both teams took a short break between sets. The camera followed Dune and Mac to the sidelines, going in for a close-up.
Sophie wasn’t particularly happy when she saw the bikini-clad Aqua Gold hostesses offer the players towels and bottles of water. Dune accepted a towel, wiping off his neck and shoulders. His expression was serious and unreadable. Mac drank deeply from his bottled water. The women lingered way too long for Sophie’s liking. Jen’s, too. The bikini babes were nearly draped over their men.
Both women breathed a sigh of relief when the next set was ready to start.
Kai was seated on the marble floor beside Nicole. He looked up at Sophie. “Notice how Dune and Mac pick up the pace when it’s necessary,” he said. “They make big plays when it counts.”
“The Taylors have tunnel vision. They don’t recognize the big picture,” said Shaye. “Dune is a visionary. He’s always one play ahead of his opponents.”
The set progressed and the score remained close. Cates and James were ahead by two points, then the game shifted. They missed opportunities. Dune slammed the ball cross-court and it went out of bounds. Then Mac dove face-first into the sand, but he couldn’t make the save. Their next rally ended in the net. Three bad plays and they suddenly fell behind by one and had to earn back their lead.
Sophie became worried when Dune shook out his wrist. She wondered if it was hurting him, but he gave no sign that he was experiencing pain. His expression was pure focus.
Cates and James battled back. Their plays were impressive. Dune swung high and hard and put the ball away, time and again. Mac served aces.
Shaye pointed to Sean Taylor. “He’s got an eye twitch,” she noted. “Players only get nervous when they struggle. The Taylors are out of sync. No nerves for our boys, they’re in the zone.”
“It’s hard to believe Dune was ever injured,” said Jenna.
The score reached 21-21.
“Come on, guys,” Shaye shouted at the TV. “Break the tie!”
Jen could no longer sit still. She pushed off the couch and circled behind it. She wrapped her arms across her chest and breathed deeply.
Sophie’s heart was beating so hard, she was certain everyone in the room could hear it. She swore it thundered even louder when Scott Tyler served and Cates and James went up by one when Mac smacked the ball into no-man’s-land between the players.
Sophie bounced on the sofa and clapped so hard she spilled her bowl of popcorn all over Frank. “Don’t move,” she said, apologetic. “I’ll scoop it up.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “It’s just as easy to eat popcorn off my shirt as it is from the bowl.”
“One more point.” Jen was breathless.
Everyone in the room held their collective breaths, only to release it in a whoosh when Dune next served and the Taylors powered back.
The score was again tied.
Sean Taylor was up to serve. The ball came across the net at an odd angle. Dune managed to scoop it up, and Mac made the jump. Then something happened that no one saw coming. He twisted in the air and landed on his ankle at an awkward angle. They scored the point, but Mac was down.
A time-out was called.
“He’s sprained his ankle,” Jen said, upset.
“Or broken it,” came from Kai. He frowned at the screen, his hand fisted on his knee. “Dune helped him up, but Mac’s not putting any weight on his foot.”
“Oh . . . no.” Sophie sighed. Dune was already hurt before they started; now Mac was injured. She shook her head, her gaze locked on the TV.
“The Taylors are looking smug.” Trace scowled. He set down his beer on an end table with a loud thud.
The camera shifted to the two cousins. They were elbowing each other, looking cocky and not the least bit concerned for their opponent’s welfare.
Sophie watched as Mac walked around the court, testing his ankle. “He has to be hurting,” she said.
“Even if he is, he won’t show it,” Shaye said matter-of-factly. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
“Looks like they’re not stopping the set,” Trace said, surprised at their decision. He glanced around at the others, then returned to the television.
Play continued.
“One more point,” Shaye said anxiously.
Mac’s next serve tipped the net. Scott Taylor dumped it back on Dune. Both teams kept the point alive. The rally went on and on. It took a long rout to terminate the point.
Time seemed to slow when Dune handset the ball and Mac chopped it between Scott’s feet. By intent or accident, Sophie couldn’t tell which, the volleyball bounced up and hit Scott in the balls. He bent, coughed, and couldn’t recover the save.
Cates and James had won the match.
The Taylors threw down their baseball caps, two very angry men with unsportsmanlike attitudes.
Everyone gathered in Sophie’s den screamed as loudly as the fans on television. It was a moment she would never forget. Dune’s family jumped up and down and hugged each other as if they’d won the set themselves. Even Frank got into the spirit of the win. He toasted the boys on TV with his beer.
“Never underestimate the heart of a champion,” said Frank with pride. “They powered through adversity.”
“Look, they’re being interviewed,” Shaye indicated, quieting them. Everyone sat back down.
Sportscaster Ty Kemp praised the players’ consistency, accuracy, and effort. He then asked Mac about his ankle.
“I’ll live,” he said. He was hunched over with two gorgeous beach babes tucked beneath each of his arms, like big-breasted crutches. They supported him during the interview. He couldn’t stop grinning.
Dune stood tall beside Mac. He wasn’t alone for long. Sophie watched along with the entire TV audience as a hostess from Aqua Gold brought him a fresh towel. Dune removed his sunglasses and she blotted his brow, then patted down his shoulders and chest. Dune smiled his appreciation. Sophie frowned.
The sportscaster pulled Dune back to the interview. Ty Kemp relived the match, detailing each play. Dune added to the sportscaster’s commentary, promoting their strengths, but never mentioning their weaknesses. He commended the Taylors for a good match, calling them tough competitors.
The interview wound down with Kemp’s final question.
“What are your upcoming plans, Dune?” the sportscaster asked him. “Will you be at Hermosa Beach in two weeks?”
“A lot depends on Mac’s ankle,” Dune said without hesitation. “After he gets it checked out, we’ll make our decision.”
“Good luck to you both,” Kemp said, ending the interview.
The cameraman made one last sweep of the court. The crowd was going crazy, cheering and whistling. The celebration had begun. Dune and Mac were surrounded by women, all sexy and beautiful, and all wanting to share in their win. It was party time in Surf City.
Silence settled in the den, each of them with their own thoughts until Shaye said, “It’s been a long day for our guys. They need to relax.”
“Mac requires medical attention.” Jen was clearly agitated. Her tone was anything but subtle when she said, “His human crutches need to get him to the emergency room.”
Jenna glanced at Sophie, the bummed-out look on her face saying it all. Her uncertainty was evident. Sophie returned her look. They were both thinking the same thing. The men they knew and loved were on the opposite coast at the center of an enormous party bash. They were the honored guests. Women would do just about anything for their attention.
Sophie’s stomach sank and insecurity gripped her.
What could she do? Or Jen? Dune and Mac were in their element. They were warriors on the beach, and victorious in their match. Fans wanted a piece of each man. Groupies could be persistent. Sophie sat down when the last sweep of the camera showed five hot blondes hanging onto Dune. One woman had her hand tucked into the back waistband on his board shorts.
That wasn’t anything new to Sophie. She had witnessed the same scene on TV every time she watched Dune play. Up until now, she’d accepted his popularity. He was a red-blooded male. He liked women and they liked him. He worked hard at his sport. He needed to cut loose after his match. It hadn’t mattered to her how many women came on to him.
Sophie couldn’t deny to herself that wasn’t true anymore. Tonight, it mattered greatly to her. She’d thought they had something special.
She wasn’t so sure now.
She stared at the television screen long after the sporting event came to an end. Long after the list of credits went by and the beach and volleyball net faded. She was vaguely aware of Shaye and Nicole picking up empty bags of chips and soda cans.
Jenna rose from the sofa first. Sophie noticed how pale she looked. As if she, too, had lost something tonight. “I’m off,” she said with tightness in her voice. Then she was gone.
Shaye, Trace, and Frank stayed behind.
Shaye tried to comfort her. “Hang in there, Sophie,” she said. “The celebration comes with the win. The after-party will soon fizzle. Mac’s injury will take top priority. He’s hurt and will spend most of the evening in the emergency room. Dune will stick by him.”
“There are so many women,” Sophie’s voice was no more than a whisper.
“They come and they go,” Shaye told her with confidence. “Women love athletes. Volleyball draws a lot of female fans in skimpy bikinis.” She patted Sophie on the arm, trying to reassure her. “That doesn’t take anything away from you and Dune.”
Sophie’s heart squeezed. His wrist had appeared healed. He had options now. Volleyball was his life. She wasn’t sure he’d return to Barefoot William.
“We’ll let ourselves out,” said Shaye. She and Trace both gave Sophie a hug, then left.
Only Frank remained, and that wasn’t for long.
A commercial for dog food came on the TV, prompting Frank to say, “That reminds me, I need to stop at the grocery store on my way home and pick up food for Ghost. Dune wouldn’t be happy that we split a Swiss steak TV dinner last night. Ghost refused the mashed potatoes and vegetable medley. He only wanted the meat and dessert. He sure likes vanilla ice cream.”
“You need to take care of Ghost,” Sophie said as she walked Frank to the door. “It’s time for me to put my hamsters in their plastic ball so they can run. They’re big enough to each have their own ball, but when I separate them, they don’t go far. They prefer to be together.”
“Familiarity is important,” Frank agreed. He gazed down, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “Never judge by appearances, Sophie. Trust in your heart.”