Read Firefly Beach for Free Online

embankment. It flipped several times before hitting a tree. Her father was pronounced dead at the scene.
    Beth picked up her knife and flipped it around. She smashed her meatballs, randomly and with vigor, until they were reduced to mush. Then she pushed her plate away and stormed to her bedroom.
    Sophia quietly removed the plates and silverware from the table and scraped away food remnants before placing the dishes in the sink. She turned on the water and added a drop of soap. Her movements were slow and methodical. She stared blankly at the bubbles forming around the dishes. The water turned mildly orange. She watched in silence. Whatever dreams Sophia had cherished as a young woman slowly withered away over the years, as sink after sink filled and drained. Her life blended with the lives of countless other mothers, resigned to the whim of tedious chores, the ones that returned every day, mocking a woman’s potential and intelligence.
    Beth hid in the hallway watching her mother. She longed to say that she was sorry and to take over washing the dishes. But she did not, due to pride or shame; she never really determined which. She left her mother alone on the anniversary of the accident, alone to soak in the soapy water and the hateful words of teenage irrationality.
    “Hello? Cat got your tongue?” Mary asked, bringing Beth back into the present.
    “I saw a jewelry shop in town,” Beth blurted out. “I need to get a ring resized, a very special family heirloom. Is the jeweler reliable?”
    Mary sighed and smiled. “Ah, good old Kenny McLeary. He’s an odd one, but he’s an exceptional jeweler. I’ve never seen a more meticulous man in my life, hunched over that bench night and day. But he’s got a creative side, too. Maybe you’ll understand his language. You’re an artistic type.” She ran her finger along the rim of her wine glass. “There is not much to go by. The man hardly says a word to anyone, except in the course of business. Shy as a field mouse, that one. I often wonder what secrets lay beneath that innocent exterior.”
    “So I can trust him with my ring?”
    “Absolutely. It will be flawless, nothing less. And while you’re in there, treat yourself to a custom brooch or pendant. The man is a genius. See, he keeps a little notebook. When he meets a customer, often times a stranger passing through town…” She swished her hand through the air and said, “I recommend him to all my guests. Anyway, when he meets someone, he looks them over and scrupulously enters notes in a little book, like a journal. Later he delivers a masterpiece so suited for the individual you would think he’d have known them all his life. It is like he can look inside a person, read them, you know?”
    Beth nodded. She pulled her cardigan closer around her chest. She did not like the idea of a man being able to see her with some kind of intimate intuition, making private notes in a little jeweler’s diary. “I certainly don’t need the man to read me, just measure my finger, for God’s sake.”
    “I’m just saying. If you ever want to spoil yourself.”
    Beth frowned and looked away. She certainly wasn’t going to spend her mother’s inheritance on a personal luxury. Her mother never treated herself to anything frivolous. It would not be right. No, she would wait until her own business brought in enough money for such an indulgence, if she purchased one at all.
    “I’ll just get my ring resized, thank you very much,” she said with defiance.
    Mary smirked with an air of knowing something undisclosed. She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of wine.
    Lou popped his head around the corner, a grin upon his face. “My guy in Portland found the parts I need. He’ll be Fed-Exing them to me. I’ll get them in the morning and should have you up and running by noon.”
    Beth looked up. “Wonderful.” She turned to Mary. “In the meantime, may I help you with dinner?”
    Beth followed Mary into the kitchen,