The Shell Collector

go through your shells? Lighten the load by getting rid of a few?”
Jesse lugged his bucket with both hands. “Can’t. They’re treasures.”
“Let me help you with that.” She carried his pail the rest of the way to their beach towels, where the kids dropped to the sand and dumped their shells. “Do you think we need to keep all of these?”
Jesse pulled his shells closer. It was crystal clear he had no intention of letting any of his go.
“I don’t know.” Hailey scooped some shells into her hand. “Most of them looked prettier when I first found them.” She dropped a couple in the sand, then picked up one of them, a sparkle in her eye. “I already forgot I found this one.” She twisted the scallop shell in the air. “It’s like a ruffly potato chip.”
“Half of the fun is looking for them, right? If we collect all of them, there won’t be any for others to find. Maybe we should only keep a couple seashells each day. What do you think?”
Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “How many?”
“Pick out your very favorites, and then we’ll decide together.”
Hailey sorted through hers.
Jesse inched closer, pointing out the ones he liked best of hers, and then finally he moved a few broken fragments from his pile to her discards.
As the kids worked, they sipped on the juice boxes Amanda brought. She took the novel from her tote bag, not expecting to get through but a page or two, but as she’d been telling herself for two years, any progress is progress. And that seemed to apply in all cases.
She’d read straight through to the end of the chapter before the kids finished sorting shells.
“Should we throw the shells we’re not keeping back into the ocean?”
“That’s a great idea.”
They scooped up the discards and ran to the water’s edge, dumping them into one big pile, then raced back.
“Want to see my best shells?” Hailey asked.
“I do.” Amanda leaned over. Hailey had kept five: the big scallop shell, two twisty-looking shells, a pink one, and another that was black. “They are all pretty. I bet it was a hard decision.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How many did you save?” she asked Jesse.
“One.” He held up a finger.
“Where is it?”
He looked around, then brushed the sand with his hand. “Oh no.” He pulled his arms up, making tight fists, and ran toward the water where they’d dumped the shells. Amanda jogged behind him. Bless his little heart.
He squatted, leaning over his knees to look through the pile. His lower lip protruded. He brushed his hand through the shells again. Amanda’s heart tugged as he searched in earnest. Finally, he lifted a shell in the air.
“This one!”
It was a pretty bluish color and twisty. “I love it.”
“Me too.” He blew her a kiss.
“All right, then. Let’s go home and eat some lunch.”
As they walked back over the dune, she looked toward Maeve’s house. Amanda was sorry Maeve hadn’t been there today to see the kids so excited about collecting shells. She had a feeling their new friend would have taken delight in it.
The three of them walked through the soft sand until Hailey stopped in the middle of the path.
“Mom, look!” Hailey dived for the large shell sitting right on top of the sand. She lifted it into the air. “It’s so heavy.”
Jesse ran to Hailey’s side. “Pretty.”
It was large and perfect. “Let me see,” Amanda said.
Hailey dusted the sand from the shell and handed it to her. “Look! There’s something written inside it.”
They walked this path every day. Amanda was surprised they hadn’t seen it before. Then again, they had never been looking for shells until now. The wind must have blown enough to uncover this one from the seagrass where it sat.
“What’s it say?” her daughter asked.
Amanda read the words to herself and then aloud: “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.—Havelock Ellis”
“Who is Have Lots?” A thoughtful look crossed Hailey’s face. “He must be really lucky.”
“Havelock Ellis. That’s the person who first said that.”
“Did he write it in our shell?” Hailey always had to have all the answers.
“No, I don’t think so.” The quote hung in her mind. Living lies? No, it wasn’t about living lies; it was about how the art of living was achieved. It was such a simple quote, but it grabbed her, provoking her. How was someone supposed to recognize what to let go of and what to hold on to?
She thought of Jack’s shirt still hanging on the back of her dressing-table chair as if he might grab it and put it on tomorrow. Some nights she still slipped it on before she climbed into bed. Certainly, after two years, any scent of him had to be long gone, but she swore she could smell him when she wore it. I couldn’t. Letting go of that meant letting go of Jack.
She tipped the shell up, reading it again.
Why am I taking this so personally? It’s a random find.
“Can we keep it, Mom?” Hailey asked.
“We sure can.” The quote rolled in her mind.
Trekking those last thirty feet over the dune was like crossing the finishing line of a marathon. The kids were dragging, but she felt the world brighten more every time she saw their house waiting for them. She opened the gate, and Denali ran through, followed by Jesse and then Hailey. More than a house. The latch clicked behind them. Home sweet home.
“Where should we put our keeper shells?” Amanda asked.
“Can we have them in our rooms tonight?” Hope hung in the air. “For a while,” Hailey begged. “Just until we get too many?”
It was hard to say no to them. “Yes. If you want to. That seems fair.” She had no intention of leaving hers outside either.
Jesse placed his on the corner of the flower box that Amanda had hung over the hose bib. “Mine.”
As they ran ahead to go inside, she took the purple shell from her pocket. Help me stay focused on