LOOK OVER THE SHOULDER INTO A WISHING WELL FULL
Her aunt’s pristine condo, full of trinkets collected from her travels, was not the place for a mobile, inquisitive child. If they were invited to use it again, Kaylee would be walking, and Sara shuddered to think of the carnage a toddler could leave in her wake. Sara was on edge most of the time for fear they’d spill or stain or damage something. She had a vacation home on Vancouver Island and let select family and friends use it when she wasn’t there. And this trip had only come about because of the charity of Sara’s great aunt. They’d both been working hard at jobs that barely paid the bills. It was their first holiday since Kaylee had been born. Who knows how old she’ll be before we get a chance to come back here again.” It won’t hurt anything if we take it, and besides, it can be a keepsake for Kaylee. Either that or it’ll get washed back out to sea and then get smashed coming in again. “Somebody’s gonna snag this one for sure. But he didn’t see the harm in it, so he tried a different approach. Sara’s opinion about taking shells or picking flowers was clear: If everybody did it, there’d be none left for anyone to enjoy. He rubbed the pearly inside with his thumb so that it became luminous in the sun. Nathan swished it in the water, his eyes following the tide as it rolled gently toward him and then was sucked back out to join the next swell. Kaylee reached for it, but Sara pulled her back. “Look at the size of this.” He held it out for Sara and the baby to admire. He was crouched down examining an oyster shell. “I wish we had a carrier for her.” Sara adjusted Kaylee again, hoping Nathan would receive the hint and take their daughter for a bit. Nathan climbed over the outcropping of rocks on which the foundation was built, then ambled around the corner of the deck to see if the pebbled beach they had been exploring continued around the bend.
Blackberry tendrils, twisted and barbed and reaching out in every direction, blocked the only access she could see up from the beach. The house did look old, authentically old, though she wouldn’t call it run down. New builds that tried to fool people into thinking they were from another era but were never quite convincing enough. It had elements of the Victorian-inspired residences that were popping up in trendy areas of the city they lived in.
A house, but not like any other along the coast. It was a minute or two before her eyes took in what was before them. Then she pulled a tissue from her bag, ready to wipe cookie drool from her daughter’s chin before it dripped down to stain the only clean shirt she’d brought on their outing. Sara adjusted the baby on her hip and handed her a biscuit. “You don’t see it until you’re right in front of it. LOOK AT this place.” Nathan squinted up at the faded grandeur of a house that appeared out of nowhere.
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