Whiskey Beach Part 78

He saw the scar from her surgery running up her left arm at the elbow-deep trenches, he thought, as in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Scars on what was his, what he loved, what he needed to protect.

"On an inhale, lean left. Don't overstretch, Hester."

"You've got me doing old-lady yoga."

The annoyance in Hester's voice made the whole scene marginally less weird.

"We're taking it slow. Breathe here. Inhale, both arms up, palms touch. Exhale. Inhale and lean right. Both arms up. Repeat that twice." As she spoke, Abra rose to kneel behind Hester and rub her shoulders.

"You've got a touch, girl."

"And you've got a lot of tension here. Relax. Shoulders down and back. We're just loosening up, that's all."

"G.o.d knows I need it. I wake up stiff, and stay that way. I'm losing my flexibility. I don't know if I can even touch my toes."

"You'll get it back. What did the doctors say? You weren't hurt worse-"

"Wasn't dead," Hester corrected, and with his view of her profile, Eli saw Abra squeeze her eyes shut.

"Because you have strong bones, a strong heart."

"A hard head."

"No argument. You've taken care of yourself and stayed active all your life. You're healing now, and need to be patient. You'll be doing Half Moons and Standing Straddles by summer."

"I often think it's a shame I didn't know those positions when my Eli was alive."

It took a moment for Eli to comprehend, then to be shocked and mortified. It took less for Abra's quick and wicked laugh.

"In loving memory of your Eli, exhale, navel to spine, and lean forward. Gently. Gently."

"I hope young Eli appreciates how limber you are."

"I can attest."

And the young Eli decided to beat a discreet retreat.

He'd make coffee, take a mug of it with him and walk the dogs. By the time he'd finished that his grandmother should be dressed like his grandmother. And maybe her allusion to s.e.x with his grandfather would have faded from his mind.

He caught the scent of coffee as he walked toward the kitchen, and found his sister, in pink pajamas, inhaling a cup.

Sadie stirred herself to stand from her sprawl on the kitchen floor so she and Barbie could sniff at each other.

"Where's the baby?"

"Right here." Tricia patted her anthill-size b.u.mp. "Big sister's upstairs having a Sunday snuggle with Daddy. I'm getting a window of quiet and the single stingy cup of coffee I'm allowed a day. You can have one, too, then help me hide eggs."

"I can do that, after I take the dogs for a walk."

"Deal." Tricia stooped to give Barbie a rub. "She's such a sweetheart, and nice company for Sadie. If she had a brother or sister, I'd s.n.a.t.c.h one up. She was wonderful with Sellie. So patient and gentle."

"Yeah." Some guard dog, Eli thought as he poured his coffee.

"I didn't have much time to talk to you, not alone. I wanted to say you look good. You look like Eli."

"Who'd I look like before?"

"Like Eli's gaunt, pasty-faced, slightly dull-witted uncle."

"Thanks."

"You asked. You're a little on the skinny side yet, but you look like Eli. For that I love Abra. A lot."

At his sidelong look, she angled her head. "Are you going to tell me she has nothing to do with it?"

"No. I'm going to say I don't know how I've lived with this family all my life without realizing the obsession with s.e.x. I just overheard Gran make a s.e.xual allusion to Abra about Granddad."

"Really?"

"Really. And now I have to burn it out of my memory. Come on, Barbie. Let's take Sadie for a walk."

But Sadie sprawled out again, yawned hugely.

"I'd say Sadie's taking a pa.s.s," Tricia observed.

"Fine. Just you and me, Barbie. We'll be back to play Easter Bunny in a few."

"Good enough. I wasn't just talking about s.e.x," she called out.

He glanced back from the laundry room as he grabbed the leash. "I know."

He tried something different since he didn't have to keep to Sadie's dignified pace. And he had the beach to himself on an early Easter Sunday. Once he'd downed the coffee, he screwed the mug into the sand near the steps, then set off in a kind of half jog. When he asked his body how it felt about the idea, it wasn't altogether sure.

But the dog loved it. Loved it enough to increase the pace until Eli found himself in full jog. No question he'd pay for this one later, he decided. Good thing he had a ma.s.sage therapist on hand.

He had a flash of her as she'd been in the dream, pale and b.l.o.o.d.y on the cold, stony dirt of the bas.e.m.e.nt. The image sent his heart knocking harder than the run.

Eventually he managed to slow the dog to a walk again, pull in some of the moist air to soothe his dry throat.

So he was more anxious about the break-ins than he'd been willing to admit. More concerned about his family, about Abra, than he'd wanted to admit in the cold light of day.

"We're going to have to do more about it than bark," he said to the dog, and turned her around to head home. "But we've got to get through today and tomorrow morning first."

He looked toward Bluff House, shocked to see how far they'd run. "Well, Jesus." Less than two months before he'd been p.r.o.ne, panting and covered in sweat at a half mile. Today, he'd breezed through twice that.

Maybe he really was himself again.

"Okay, Barbie, let's try for the circuit."