Miracle Beach by Erin Celello

sky. “Perverse sense of humor those weather gods have, I tell you. I don’t know what I ever did to them.”
    “Well, if you could make amends by tomorrow, I’d really appreciate it.” Jack laughed again, accepting a tinfoil-wrapped sandwich from her. “Or this afternoon, even.”
    “I’ll see what I can do, Jackie.”
    Macy looked up from unwrapping her sandwich to see someone walking across the field toward them. Dirty overalls, knee-high rubber boots, strands of gray hair escaping at crazy angles. Macy recognized these telltale characteristics long before she could make out the woman’s face.
    Macy waved an arm high above her head. The figure waved back.
    “Who is that?” Jack asked.
    “That,” Macy said, “is Mama Sophie. She lives just down the road.”
    “You tryin’ to kill yourself out here in this bloody heat, girl?” the woman yelled.
    “You’re the one wearing swampers, you crazy ol’ coot,” Macy yelled back.
    Mama Sophie walked up to Macy and forced her into a half hug, shoulder-to-shoulder. “It’s good to see you out and about,” she whispered to Macy.
    “Good to be out,” Macy whispered back. Then she turned to Jack. “Jack, meet the infamous Sophie McLean. Mama Sophie, Jack Allen.”
    “Infamous, huh? I’m up to infamous now?” she said to Macy.
    Jack held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
    Mama Sophie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. Macy knew that the Allens weren’t a hugging family, which had always fit her just fine. Discomfort showed on Jack’s face. He looked like the cartoon characters who were squeezed until their eyes started to bulge.
    “Welcome to Campbell River, Jack. Or back to Campbell River, I guess. I know you’ve been here before, but it’s nice to finally get the chance to meet you. But don’t you dare go ma’aming me. It’s Sophie—just Sophie.” She patted him on the back, then took her arm from his shoulder and placed it on top of his hand, sandwiching it between hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here for the funeral. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said.
    “Thank you, Ms. McLean,” said Jack.
    “Is he a little slow on the uptake, darling?” Mama Sophie asked Macy, who smiled and shrugged.
    “How long you been here, Jack? How long you planning to stay?” Sophie asked.
    “Been here about a week,” Jack said, raising one finger, “and no real idea,” he said, raising a second finger.
    Sophie nodded. “I’ve been out guiding all week. Sorry I’ve missed you.” Then, turning to Macy, she said, “Caught some really nice sockeye this mornin’; you want some?”
    “Oh, is that the reason for the fabulous footwear?” Macy kidded her.
    “You want the fish or not, you little smart-ass?”
    “How about this,” Macy said. “You bring your catch of the day over about seven tonight and we’ll throw it on the barbecue.”
    “You like salmon, Jack?” Mama Sophie asked.
    “Love salmon,” Jack said.
    “Good.” Turning to Macy, she said, “He can stay awhile. Mends fence, eats salmon. We can work on the rest.”
    Jack chuckled.
    “I’ll see you at seven thirty, then,” Mama Sophie said, already walking away from them.
    Jack mouthed to Macy, I thought it was seven?
    She waved him off and whispered, “Mama Sophie does what Mama Sophie wants.
    “You going to change for dinner?” Macy yelled after her.
    “You going to have anything to eat if I decide not to come?” she called back over her shoulder.
    “Bye,” yelled Macy, feigning exasperation.
    Mama Sophie waved back at them without turning around.
    “Quite a character, that one,” Jack said. He and Macy watched the old woman tromp through the grass and weave herself limberly through the fence rails.
    “Just wait till she gets a drink or two in her,” Macy said. “You’ll be wanting a little stronger word than character .”
    Jack looked at Macy with his head cocked, seemingly surprised, though at what was hard to tell. That the