Reunion Beach Elin Hilderbrand (best selling autobiographies .TXT) 📖

And she, their Pegasus, still and always trying to find a way to fly with every bird she painted.

Waiting impatiently now, Beatrice ambled outside and took a leisurely lap around the edges of the scrubby island, just enough to get her bearings. It was otherworldly: the birdsong, the sunlight falling through thick Spanish moss and landing on the ground in abstract patterns, a silence she was so unaccustomed to that she almost checked to see if she had her noise-canceling headphones in her ears. She spied a gray heron standing as still as time on the edge of the marsh; a painted bunting making a dive for the pine branch, and a sandpiper that skittered across the sandy shore poking the ground in manic thrusts of its little beak. She scanned for an oystercatcher, her sign that Dani was near in spirit, but not yet . . .

Just the thought of her friends brought her closer to calm. She gazed up at the live oak branches, which were gnarled and twisted by time and wind, at the driftwood piled like bleached bones on the sand at water’s edge. She imagined that this was what the land was like a hundred years ago. It had changed all the while with tides and storms, yet at the same time it remained itself.

At the edge of the oyster-crusted east side of the island, she sat on a fallen log. She knew better than to walk over oyster beds; it was the exact right way to slice her feet to smithereens with the shell’s edges sharp as razors. She thought about Red living here and what a stupid damn name Red was when Ned was perfectly fine.

What would the flock do for the next forty-eight hours? No spa. No shopping. No internet. No TV. Good Lord. Beatrice was accustomed to a day so full that she never, not once, finished anything on the to-do list that she scribbled every morning on her beautiful stationery. Looking about, she was thrilled that at the last minute she’d packed her sketchpad and pastels. She’d try and capture this mystical place, which was a lot better than doing what she had been doing the past four days: obsessing, ruminating, and crying.

A motorboat’s hum interrupted her thoughts and she went jogging, her flip-flops slapping her heels, toward the dock, the dock that looked as if it might blow away in the next storm, to see Red arriving with her three best friends, their overnight bags piled like a stone cairn. They each held a hand over their hat. Victoria’s voice rose above the rest; Beatrice would know it anywhere.

The women stepped out of the boat and onto the dock, laughter following, their exclamations overlapping. Beatrice’s heart rose to each woman.

Rose, their swan, in her pink and green Lilly Pulitzer sundress and matching hat, her still-blond hair pulled behind in a low knot; she was first off the boat and she ran toward Beatrice, almost tripping in her strappy sandals. “This is so charming. So adorable. I’m so happy to see you.” She threw her arms around Beatrice and left a hot pink lipstick mark on her cheek.

Victoria, in full makeup, a blue dress flapping behind her just like the wild Blue Bird of Paradise she had once chosen, made her way toward Beatrice with a sway of her hips. “Dear God Almighty. This looks dreamy.” Her smile was huge, not wrinkling her face and cheeks. Just enough plastic surgery to smooth the edges, not enough to look done. That was always Victoria’s goal. She kissed Beatrice and then slipped her arm through Rose’s as Daisy was still gathering her bags.

Daisy, their little starling, stood at the end of the dock a few yards away, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and taking in the group of friends. She waved and hollered. “This is the absolute best. Look at us, we’ll live like the Swiss Family Robinson.”

Red, behind her, laughed and picked up as many bags as he could and followed Daisy down the dock. Daisy wore a bright red sundress and feather earrings that brushed her shoulders. Her red hair, now mostly silver and shoulder length, caught the breeze and flew into her eyes just as she threw her arms around Beatrice.

“This is the most perfect thing in the world. All of us together on a deserted island. The only thing missing is Dani.”

They all nodded and stayed silent for a moment, thoughts of Dani blowing past. Victoria wiped at her forehead. “So. The first thing I need is a drink and to see what our Pegasus has gotten us into now. What’s inside? One can only guess by the absolute decrepit outside.”

Beatrice laughed and shook her head. “Victoria, have you met Red?” She nodded her head toward him and he nodded back.

“Of course.”

“This is his house.”

Victoria bit her bottom lip. “Sorry. Sometimes when I try to be funny, I’m an idiot. As the girls will well attest, I mean no harm.”

Red smiled and carried the bags inside, saying not a word.

* * *

An hour later, each woman had chosen their room and reconvened in the kitchen. Red stood at the far end of the living room as quiet and still as a coatrack until he asked. “Anything else you ladies need?”

“No.” Beatrice looked to her friends. “Anything ya’ll need before he takes off?”

“Not that I can think of just now,” Victoria said with a coy flirt that made the other women groan.

“How will we get ahold of you if we need anything?” Beatrice asked. “No service.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

“Excuse me?” Beatrice’s eyebrows raised in a question.

“The shelter a hundred yards away.” He waved his hand east. “There . . . I’ll be there.”

Beatrice took a step toward this tall man and then back toward the safety of her friends. “I don’t understand. You rented us the island . . . and . . .”

“I rented you the house. You won’t even know I’m here unless you come calling. I can promise you that. If you need anything, I’m here. If not, I’m