Chapter Thirteen
To Do:
Paint
Go to bank
Pray hard and cross fingers and toes before
going to bank
Jenna didn’t go into the house right away. Instead, she plopped down on Aunt Edie’s front porch and did some more internet surfing, trying to figure out Seth Waters. One article backed up his story about the man he shot being a drug dealer. It played on the human-interest aspect of the story. A quote in that article jumped out at her. It was from his sister Monica, she of the drug problem.
The Waters family all broke down when the judge delivered his sentence this morning. Waters’s youngest sister appeared to be the most shaken, crying over and over, “He shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let him.” The family offered no further comment.
I shouldn’t have let him. Like she could stop her brother hunting someone down and shooting him? Like she’d have known?
Had she known?
Seth’s words came back at her. I found out where the rat bastard lived, went to his place and shot him as soon as he opened his front door.
He went to kill a man, got close and personal on his front porch and only managed to shoot him in the shoulder? Surely he could have done better at such close range. Okay, something was off here.
She looked across the parking lot. Seth was throwing his sleeping bag and cooler in the back of his truck, where he kept his power-washing equipment. She watched as he walked back into his room for the rest of his things. Was he a thug or a hero?
I shouldn’t have let him. Shouldn’t have let him shoot the man? Wrong, wrong, something was wrong.
He came back out, carrying his duffel bag. Another minute and he’d be gone.
Jenna bolted down the porch steps and raced across the parking lot. “Seth!”
He either didn’t hear her or was ignoring her. He walked around to the cab and got in. Jenna hadn’t run so fast in years. He’d started the engine by the time she grabbed the passenger door and climbed into the cab.
His eyebrows shot up. “What are you doing?”
“I want to talk to you.”
He kept his gaze straight ahead. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I think there is.”
“Trust me, there’s not. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get going.”
“Where are you going to go?”
His lips clamped shut. She could see the muscles bunching in his jaw.
“You just got here.”
“And now I’m just leaving.”
She took a shot in the dark, testing her theory. “You didn’t do it, did you?”
He looked at her as if she were nuts. “What?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t play dumb.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Would you mind getting out of my truck?”
“Actually, I would.”
He heaved a sigh and looked heavenward. “Jenna.”
“You can find anything online, you know. Recipes, old friends, old news stories.”
He made no reply.
She pressed on. “What your sister said—‘I shouldn’t have let him do it’—she wasn’t talking about you shooting the man. She was talking about you taking the blame for what she did. You took the fall for your little sister, didn’t you?”
He glared at her. “The hell I did, and don’t you ever say that to anyone. You hear me?”
Now he did look like a criminal, threatening and dangerous. Jenna scooted up against the door, but she kept going. “She was already on a bad path. How did it start, with some gateway drug?” His breath came out in an angry hiss, but she persisted. “Where was she getting the money for drugs? Shoplifting? Stealing from family and friends? Dealing?”
“Get out.”
She was right. He wouldn’t be reacting the way he was otherwise. She jutted out her chin. “No. Not until you promise to stay.”
His jaw was clenched so tightly she thought he might break it.
“Hey,” she said softly. “If you want the whole world to think you’re a badass that’s fine with me.”
“I don’t care what the whole world thinks. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.”
“Even if they think that was a pretty noble thing you did?” Jenna asked softly.
He turned his head away and looked out the window. “I told you what I did.”
“And isn’t it interesting that the police believed your stupid story?”
He turned back and glared at her. “It wasn’t stupid. It was true. What do you think, the guy shot himself?”
“No. Where’d you get the gun?”
“My dad had one. He left it behind when he split.”
“So, you took your dad’s gun, walked up on a man’s porch and, standing right in front of him, aimed to kill.”
“Damn right I did.”
“And missed?”
He let out a breath. “Okay, so I chickened out at the last minute and couldn’t do it. So, sue me.”
“Or how about this? Your sister took Daddy’s gun and went over there to get her fix. Maybe she was out of money and hoped to rob the guy. Whatever. The gun went off and she called big brother. You came running and took over from there. Who called the cops? The dealer? What kind of deal did you make with him? Not to rat him out if he didn’t press charges against your sister?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seth growled. “You don’t know anything.”
“Okay, then. How did it go down?”
“It went down the way I said it did.”
“Right. The cops had you, they had the gun, they had a confession. Everybody won.”
His jaws were clenched again.
“Except you.”
“I came out fine. And my sister’s fine now. That’s what matters.”
“How many years of your life did you lose?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that my sister’s okay.”
“Maybe it matters that you get to be okay now, too.” She reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t leave us, Seth. I won’t tell. Your secret’s safe with me.”
He shook his head.
“I need help. I’ll never get this place in shape without you. Please.”
“You don’t need a jailbird.”
“You’re not a jailbird anymore, and you’ve got a chance for a good life here. Don’t blow that just because I got nosy.” She wasn’t sure why she was arguing so hard. Maybe she felt guilty for opening Pandora’s box. Maybe it was something else. Maybe it didn’t matter why.
He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t stay.”
“You can’t keep running every time someone learns about your past. Didn’t you tell me only a few minutes ago to keep fighting, that the only way to go is forward? So, let’s go forward. Put your cooler back in your room and come over to the house. Aunt Edie’s making a tuna casserole.” He still hesitated, so she added, “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone about your bad aim.”
“Ha, ha.”
“You have to start over somewhere. It may as well be here. And besides, you can’t outrun the internet.”
She kept talking, kept pressing, until he finally said, “Okay, stop already. I give up.”
“Good. See you at dinner.”
She walked back to the house smiling, glad his past was out in the open, glad she’d gotten to the heart of the man. In a way they were kindred souls, each trying to make a new start, trying to get over the mistakes of their pasts.
What lay out there in the future? What was going to happen to her? It wasn’t prison, that much she knew. Seth was right. Things could always be worse.
* * *
The next day Jenna paid a visit to the bank to see if she could find a way to get more money.
Sherwood Stern, the bank manager, was a master at the regretful smile. He reminded her of the wizard in the old movie The Wizard of Oz. The great and powerful Oz.
Except Sherwood wasn’t acting very great and powerful. “I’m afraid your aunt’s been having trouble paying back the loan I already made to her.”
“Yes, but this wouldn’t be to my aunt. This would be to me,” Jenna told him.
“What collateral would you offer?”
He looked almost hopeful until she said, “The Driftwood Inn?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I’m afraid Edie already put that up as collateral.”
“Isn’t there such a thing as a second—”
“Mortgage? That doesn’t apply here.”
“Perhaps we could add on a little more to the loan.”
“I’d like to help you,” Sherwood said. “Really, I would. But I don’t think that would be wise, considering the current situation.”
“Another sixty thousand...” Okay, there would be other expenses. “Seventy,” Jenna corrected herself, “and we’d have the place up and running and would be in a position to pay back what we owe.”
He was shaking his head.
“How about this? Could we refinance? You could charge us more interest,” she added recklessly, hoping to sweeten the pot.
“I’m afraid your aunt’s credit score is too low. The bank won’t take the risk. Unless you yourself have something you could put up as collateral? Some property?”
“I have a business,” Jenna said.
“Then you have some assets?” he asked hopefully.
“Well, I don’t own a building.”
“Inventory?”
A massage table, stone warmer, desk and oils and towels and blankets wouldn’t exactly impress Sherwood. “Nothing worth more than a few hundred,” she confessed.
He looked so regretful. He probably practiced that expression in the mirror. “Ms. Jones, I would love to help you and your aunt, I really would.”
She doubted it.
“But I can’t take the risk. I have a board of directors to answer to.”
“But surely your board of directors all know my aunt. She’s been a member of this community since the sixties. Staying in business that long should count for something.”
“Her current situation is too big a problem.”
“But that’s why we come to banks, when we’re having a cash-flow problem.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am.”
Just not sorry enough. Jenna returned home feeling even more discouraged than she’d been the day before. All well and good to talk about keeping on fighting, but how could you do that when nobody even let you in the ring?
One look at Jenna’s face when she walked into the kitchen was enough to make Aunt Edie’s hopeful expression die a quick death. “That penny-pincher Sherwood,” she said in disgust. “And to think I gave him a special discount when he and his wife honeymooned here.”
They were going to have to have a serious discussion about what to do with the Driftwood Inn. “Aunt Edie, I don’t know what else to do,” Jenna began.
She had no idea how to rehab a motel. She’d jumped in with no clue and been in over her head from the beginning. Now she was going under and taking her poor aunt with her.
Aunt Edie quickly turned and pulled a casserole dish from the oven. “Don’t you worry, dear. We’ll think of something. Meanwhile, tonight we’re going to forget our troubles and have a bonfire on the beach. I went to the store and picked up marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers for s’mores. And we have hot dogs and my best ever beans to go with them. I got root beer for Sabrina and some of those wine coolers all you young people like for us grown-ups. Pete’s already making the fire and I sent Sabrina and that nice young man Seth down with the cooler. All we have to do is bring the bean dish.”
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Jenna sighed. Well, what the heck. They should probably enjoy the beach as much as they could. Who knew how much longer they’d be able to stay?
She resigned herself to having fun whether she wanted to or not, and escorted her aunt over the dunes, balancing baked beans in one hand and Aunt Edie in the other.
“I haven’t done this in years,” Aunt Edie said, sounding as excited as a child. “It does bring back such memories.”
It did for Jenna, too. All those evenings around the campfire, roasting hot dogs, listening to Uncle Ralph go through his repertoire of ghost stories—“The Man with the Golden Arm” and “Johnny, I Want My Liver Back” never failed to send shivers down her spine. And then, of course, there’d been all the silly songs, from “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” to “Found a Peanut.” Maybe she’d teach Sabrina some songs tonight. Maybe it would be good to forget her troubles for a little while.
The men had the fire roaring and Seth was helping Sabrina launch her kite.
“It’s a perfect night for a beach fire,” Aunt Edie said happily, settling on a log.
“I got a good blaze going for you,” Pete told her, as if he’d single-handedly collected the driftwood and started the fire, something Jenna highly doubted.
But, oh well. There would be no quarrels with Pete tonight. No frowns, no worries. Tonight she would hide from the ugly future.
She set the beans on a makeshift table the men had set up on a piece of driftwood and fell onto the blanket laid out on the sand. The sun was still high in the sky, the late-afternoon air was warm and the breeze was gentle. Her daughter was letting out more string on her kite and laughing as it dipped and soared. It was a perfect moment. She was going to stay in it and enjoy it.
Pete broke into the wine coolers and gave one to both Aunt Edie and Jenna.
“Don’t let me have more than one,” Aunt Edie cautioned. “I don’t want to be a bad example for Sabrina.”
“Aunt Edie, I never figured you for a wine cooler kind of woman,” Jenna said after they’d toasted each other.
“I really prefer iced tea to alcohol, but once in a while it’s fun to splurge. Party hearty, as they say. And at my age, you don’t know how many years you have left so you need to make the most of them.”
“You’ve got lots of years left,” Jenna assured her, and hoped she was right. It had felt so good to reconnect with her great-aunt. She wanted to be able to enjoy that connection for as long as possible.
Sabrina finally abandoned her kite in favor of hot dogs and s’mores and Seth pulled a beat-up guitar case from behind a huge piece of driftwood and began to play, his fingers flying over the frets.
“Wow,” Jenna said. “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Crap. Probably in prison. That would be the last thing he’d want to be reminded of.
“I had a band when I was in high school,” he said, and she relaxed.
Of course he did, with teenage girls standing in front of the stage drooling. He had to have been a cute teenager.
“Any requests?” he asked.
“‘Harbor Lights,’” said Aunt Edie.
“I’m afraid I don’t know that one,” he said.
“Of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “It would have been way before your time.”
“Sing a few bars,” he said.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she protested.
“Come on, Aunt Edie,” Jenna coaxed. “You used to have a great voice.”
“I still do,” her aunt informed her, and began to sing.
Her voice had gotten thready, but she could still carry a tune, and Seth picked up on the melody quickly and began to accompany her.
Jenna leaned back against a log, shut her eyes and let herself drift back in time. She was a kid again, hanging out with the grown-ups, no worries, no need for money. No need for anything but to enjoy life.
Aunt Edie and Seth finished, and Pete applauded. “That was real pretty.”
“Yes, it was,” Jenna said.
“Okay, what else?” Seth asked.
“‘Found a Peanut,’” Jenna requested. “It’s time Sabrina learned some classics.”
With Seth accompanying, she taught her daughter all the silly campfire songs she’d sung as a kid, including a few of her favorite Veggie Tales ditties. Pete knew some of the same ghost stories as Uncle Ralph had told, and regaled everyone with them as the twilight began to loosen its hold on the day. Then, once it became dark, Seth brought out some fireworks and set them off.
“Oh, this is fun,” Aunt Edie said, clapping her hands. “But you just wait until the Fourth of July,” she told Sabrina. “People from all over come to set off their fireworks here on Moonlight Beach. Miles and miles of fireworks going off—it’s lovely.”
Sabrina had been smiling up until then. “We always go to Green Lake with Grandma to watch the fireworks. We are going back for the Fourth, aren’t we?” She looked to Jenna in concern.
“Well.” No, Jenna hadn’t planned on it, not after her conversation with Damien. “I was thinking maybe we’d see if Grandma wanted to come down here. And Aunt Celeste.”
The plan didn’t meet with her daughter’s approval. “But I want to go home. I want to see Daddy.”
Him again. “We will.”
“When?”
“Soon.” As soon as Jenna could convince him to grow up.
Sabrina frowned at the fire and fell silent. Minutes later she stood and said, “I’m going back to the house.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t mind walking me back,” Aunt Edie said to her. “This log is getting a little hard on my bony old bottom.”
Jenna suspected the last thing Sabrina wanted to do was to be polite and escort her great-great-aunt back, but she bit her lip and nodded, and a moment later they were gone.
“I think I’ve had enough, too,” Pete said. “These girlie drinks aren’t doing it for me.” He followed them back through the beach grass.
“I guess we’re in charge of putting out the fire,” Seth said to Jenna, and came to sit next to her on the blanket.
Putting out the fire? With him sitting so close? Not likely.
He turned to her. The firelight danced on his face and she thought of pirates and buried treasure. Sex on the beach.
“No regrets about my staying?”
Those eyes. She felt like a marshmallow in the flame. Her throat was suddenly dry. She swallowed. “Why should I? We both know the truth.”
“The truth is what you read in the paper,” he said sternly.
“Right. Whatever. Anyway, we need the help around here.”
“You’ve got Pete.”
“Yes, and we both know how helpful he is. I’m glad you stayed.”
“Yeah?” He was looking at her lips. Then he was looking lower and she felt like Lois Lane with Superman checking out her boobs with his X-ray vision. If she moved one inch closer...
She made herself stay rooted right where she was.
He got the message and looked back into the fire. “Yeah, you’re right. Probably not a good idea. You can do better.”
Pity flooded her heart. Once upon a time this man had plans for his life. Now here he was, staying in a dump, sleeping on the floor and reading Shakespeare. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Okay, now he was feeling rejected. Next he’d get up and leave. She didn’t want him to.
“What did you want to get your degree in when you were saving to go back to school?” she asked.
“I was going to major in English lit. I’d have gone back as a junior. Planned to get a teaching certificate, maybe a master’s.” He took a deep breath. “I won’t be teaching kids now, not with my background.” He gave a bitter laugh.
“Maybe what happened to your family is a way of teaching, too.”
“I’m not broadcasting my past, Jenna. I hope you won’t, either.”
“Of course not,” she said, shocked that he’d even think her capable of doing that.
“Don’t look so outraged. People gossip. Things slip out.”
“Well, not from me,” she said, and took another draw on her wine cooler.
“I wish I’d met you fifteen years ago,” he said softly.
For a moment, so did she. And for another minute she thought maybe now was the perfect time to meet. They could both make a new start together.
She had a pleasant buzz going from her wine cooler, and her hormones had an equally pleasant buzz going from such close proximity to him. She was beginning to feel a little off balance. She started to list in his direction.
This time he was the one who put on the brakes. He tapped her on the nose. “That stuff’s going to your head. Come on, time to pack it in.”
He hauled her to her feet and together they doused the beach fire and covered it with sand, effectively smothering it.
That only took care of one fire. She was still smoldering when she went to bed.
* * *
Brody stopped by on Thursday to see if Jenna wanted to go to lunch. A shrimp Louie at the Porthole sounded a heck of a lot better than the tuna sandwich she’d just sent her daughter to the house to fetch. But she was a mess—sweaty and dotted with paint, in faded sweats and a T-shirt.
“I’m a disaster,” she said, wiping at her damp forehead.
“Even as a disaster you look good,” he said. “But go ahead and get cleaned up. I can visit with Edie while I’m waiting. Anyway, you deserve a break.”
Yes, she did. She decided to ignore the fact that she’d have to get right back into her gunky clothes and start painting again once she returned. The sun was out, the day was pretty and the view from the Porthole would be more than worth changing clothes.
“You talked me into it.”
They were leaving when Seth pulled up in his truck. Ready to work. With Jenna. She felt suddenly guilty and self-conscious with Brody next to her.
“I’d better tell Seth I’m leaving,” she said.
“You have to ask his permission?” Brody taunted. “You’re the owner. You get to go to lunch whenever you want.”
“I know. But we’ve been working on the rooms together. I want him to know I’m coming back.”
“Whatever,” Brody said, and leaned against the building, crossing one ankle over another. He looked like a misplaced model in his Dockers and blue polo shirt. Was he aware how well that color set off his eyes? Probably.
“Hi,” she greeted Seth as he sauntered up to them. Her cheeks were hot. Why was she blushing? What did she have to blush about? “I’m going out to lunch, so how about we start work around one?”
“Better make it one-thirty,” put in Brody. “It can get busy at the Porthole.”
And he could always get a table. She suspected he was angling for more time, and felt both flattered and embarrassed. Oh, if Damien could see her now.
“No problem,” Seth said. “I’ll go ahead and start on my own.”
“You don’t need to,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Great. “I feel guilty,” she said as she and Brody made their way to the house.
“Because you’re taking time for lunch? Come on, Jenna, as hard as you’re working, it’s allowed.”
“I guess.” Still, it didn’t seem right that she was skipping off and leaving Seth to do everything on his own. She was the one with skin in the game. She should be working every moment.
“So, how’s it going with the handyman?” Brody asked as they went up the steps to Aunt Edie’s house.”
“Pete? He’s not quite as useless as he first was.”
“I meant your other handyman. The mold guy.”
Mold guy, there was a flattering nickname. Of course, Seth hadn’t been much more complimentary of Brody the house peddler.
“Seth’s great.” He was more than great. He was noble.
Brody frowned. “Just how great is he?”
“He’s a hard worker and he’s really helping out.” And no, he hasn’t kissed me. Darn.
Brody gave a grunt. “There’s something about that guy.”
There sure was.
“You don’t know him very well.”
She knew him better than Brody could even begin to imagine. “When it comes right down to it, I don’t know you very well, either,” Jenna pointed out.
“I’m working on changing that,” he said with a smile. Brody Green had a gorgeous smile.
They entered the house as Sabrina was coming out of it with Jenna’s sandwich.
“Hi there, kiddo,” Brody greeted her.
“My name’s Sabrina,” she said, filled with umbrage.
“Sorry. Sabrina,” Brody corrected himself.
She ignored both him and her mother’s scolding look, holding the plate out to Jenna. “I made your sandwich.”
“Thanks,” Jenna said. “I’ll have it a little later. I’m going to run out for a bite.”
“Together?” Sabrina managed to look both shocked and displeased at once.
“Yes, together. Put it in the fridge for me, please.”
“Fine. I don’t know why you had me bother to make it if you weren’t going to eat it,” Sabrina grumbled as she turned back to the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Jenna said to Brody. “She’s a little grumpy today.” There would be a talk about manners a little later and a reminder that pink hair was on the line.
Or maybe she’d let this one slide. Both she and Damien had put their daughter through so many changes she probably had emotional whiplash. So maybe she was allowed some grumpiness.
Anyway, Brody didn’t seem to be offended. “It’s okay,” he said easily. “I’ve got a girl. Remember?”
Aunt Edie hurried out of the kitchen now, wiping her hands on her apron. “Brody, how nice of you to stop by and take Jenna out to lunch. Would you like some iced tea while you wait for her to freshen up?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Yes, he was.
“Well, sit down and make yourself at home,” said Aunt Edie, gesturing to Uncle Ralph’s old recliner.
Jenna needed more work than a simple freshening up, but she promised not to be long.
“Take your time,” Brody told her. “Edie and I can catch up on what’s been going on around here.”
They caught up, all right. Jenna came back downstairs dressed for lunch just in time to hear him say, “If worse comes to worst, I can help.”
And she knew exactly how he wanted to help. The skunk! The minute her back was turned, there he was, working on Aunt Edie, trying to convince her to sell.
“Were you just trying to talk my aunt into selling the Driftwood?” she demanded as soon as they were out the door.
He held out both hands in a gesture of innocence. “I was only reminding her that it was an option.”
Jenna developed sudden amnesia regarding that huge chunk of money she didn’t have. “It’s not,” she said firmly. “And now I can’t help but wonder if there’s another reason you’re being so nice to us.”
“Oh, come on. Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“Jenna...” he began.
She didn’t let him get any further. “You just don’t get it, do you? This place is important to us.”
“Of course it is. And I do get it. But sometimes you have to be practical and face reality.” He pointed to the roof, all dressed up in blue tarp. “You’re going to have to do something about that roof. And what about the mattresses for all those beds? What kind of condition are those in?”
“I know we need to do some work.”
“And that takes money. If you’ve got it, great. Go for it.”
The drive to the restaurant wasn’t exactly a companionable one, and Jenna failed to dredge up a smile as Laurel the hostess seated them. But then Laurel wasn’t smiling, either. You can have him, thought Jenna.
“Look, I’m sorry I brought it up,” Brody said after their waitress had taken their orders and left. “I just hate to see you guys go under and lose the opportunity to come out well-off.”
“We wouldn’t go under if we could get an infusion of cash.”
She must have been looking at him speculatively, because he frowned and said, “My money’s all tied up in other real estate here around town. I can’t afford to take on a money pit like the Driftwood.”
Neither could she. She sighed.
He reached across the table and laid a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Jenna. Sorry your aunt got you into this. Edie’s a doll, but she’s not very practical.”
He was right. Uncle Ralph had been the practical one, the one who kept things maintained, paid the bills. The condition of both the motel and Aunt Edie’s bank account were proof that her talents lay in a different direction.
“I know she’s not. But she’s got vision. You know, the Driftwood was one of the first motels down here. She saw what the town could become. And she sees what the old place could be again with just a little loving care.”
“And a lot of money.”
“I’ll have to find a way to get it.”
“I like you a lot, Jenna, but I’m not driving the getaway car if you rob the bank,” Brody said, making her smile. “But if you need more help around there let me know. I’ll come swing a hammer anytime.”
And since he’d helped before, she knew she could count on him to do it again. “I’m sorry I reacted the way I did back at the house,” she said once their food had arrived. Her shrimp Louie did look good. Maybe if she could clear the air with Brody she’d actually enjoy it.
“No worries,” he told her.
“I thought...”
“I know. Hidden agenda. Except, that agenda is pretty much out in the open. If you decide you need to sell, I’ll help you. And I’ll kick over my commission to your aunt.”
She set down her fork and gaped at him.
“Oh, come, Jenna, do you think I’m such a greedy bastard that I wouldn’t want to help a sweet little old lady like Edie?”
“Well...” It had crossed her mind.
“I only have one other thing on my agenda,” he continued.
“What’s that?”
“You,” he said with a grin that made her cheeks sizzle and her heart rate pick up.
“Of course, I like to make money as much as the next guy,” he confessed. “It comes in pretty handy when you’re paying child support.”
Or spousal support. There went Jenna’s appetite.
She managed a couple of bites, then gave up and let the waitress box her salad and had Brody take her back to the motel. She felt like she had a giant hourglass strapped to her back, with sand quickly running out. She had to find a way to make money and fast. And she had to get as much done on the motel as soon as possible. If she could get everything done but the roof...
She’d still have a problem.
She could hear voices in the kitchen. Aunt Edie probably had Sabrina busy with some culinary creation. Which was good, as Jenna didn’t particularly want Aunt Edie asking what she and Brody had talked about at lunch.
She slipped upstairs, put on her grubby paint clothes and hurried back to work.
Seth had painted an entire room in her absence and started on the next. She was both grateful and mortified. “I’m sorry I left you on your own,” she said as she joined him.
“Don’t be. I don’t need supervision.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s that this is my place. I shouldn’t have other people doing my work.”
“Nobody with eyes could accuse you of that.” He stopped and studied her. “What’s got you wound so tight?”
“Nothing,” she said, dipping her roller in the paint tray.
“Okay. If you say so.”
She managed to go a whole five minutes before saying, “We should sell this place.”
“I wonder where you got that idea.”
She frowned at him. “Brody’s not trying to make me sell. It’s just that...”
“I know. You’re up against it.”
“Where am I supposed to come up with the money to replace that roof? I can’t have people staying here and putting out buckets to catch the rain.”
“So maybe you just patch the roof this year.”
“The roofer said the whole thing needs replacing.”
“That’s what roofers say.”
“We need mattresses and bedding and...” Her eye was twitching.
“Hey, hey, deep breath,” he said gently. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you how to eat an elephant?”
She frowned at him. “No.”
“Well, that’s your problem.”
“Okay, how do you eat an elephant?”
“One bite at a time. Let’s get these rooms painted and your furniture back in them. That’s a big enough bite for right now, don’t ya think?”
She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
They got two more rooms painted that afternoon and Jenna found she was actually smiling by the time they were done. She managed to give Aunt Edie a vague answer at dinner, and she did manage to have a talk with her daughter and reassure her that she wasn’t importing a new man into their life.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t dream, but dreaming was as far as her wounded heart was willing to go.
An occasional hiccup or two aside, Sabrina did manage to find a better attitude, so Friday afternoon, after Jenna had painted another two rooms, they made a run into nearby Quinault, where they found a beauty supply store and a clerk who was happy to sell them everything they needed for Sabrina’s new look and to give Jenna several tips, as well.
“Start with something temporary until you find the color you really like,” she advised. “Then once you do, you can go with—
“Not something totally permanent,” said Jenna, making her daughter scowl.
“A demi perm is good,” the woman said. “That will last twenty to thirty washes. Oh, and speaking of washing, don’t wash your hair the day you’re going to dye it,” she advised Sabrina. “That will strip all the oils you need to protect your scalp from irritation.”
The products began to mount up. They needed to bleach Sabrina’s hair first, then they needed a purple toner to ensure a perfect pink. Dyes, bleach, cape...money. Yikes!
But Sabrina was beaming when they left the shop. “I can hardly wait till tomorrow,” she said.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Jenna reminded her. “I have to work in the morning.”
“I know,” Sabrina said, resigned but happy.
* * *
“I hear you’re going to get all gorgeous,” Tyrella said to her later when the women started arriving for their Friday night gathering.
Sabrina nodded eagerly. “Mom’s doing it tomorrow. It’s gonna be awesome.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Tyrella said, smiling at Jenna. “Good for you,” she added, once Sabrina had disappeared upstairs with some of the cheese and crackers Nora had brought and saltwater taffy from Cindy. “You’re a sport.”
“Hair grows,” Jenna said, quoting her mom. Mom was right. Pink hair would be fun. In fact, she wished she was brave enough to do something crazy with her hair. But all her bravery was needed for pulling the Driftwood together.
“Caroline is bound to be impressed,” said Nora. “She arrives tomorrow. Maybe we can get the girls together for a visit on Sunday.”
“Good idea,” Jenna said. Her daughter finding someone to hang out with would take one big worry off her mind.
Chitchat and fun eventually turned to sharing and dreams. It started with much raving over Courtney’s latest design, a dress with a vintage flair and a scalloped neckline.
“How I wish I was young again,” Aunt Edie said. “I would certainly wear something like that.”
“I’d wear it now,” Annie said, looking longingly at it.
“I’m glad to hear it, because guess what you’re getting for your birthday,” Courtney told her.
“Really?” Annie was practically glowing.
“You need to hurry up and go into business for yourself,” Tyrella said to Courtney.
“Once I get some more money together.” She frowned. “Coming down here after my divorce was the right thing to do, I know. I’ve felt so free ever since. But staying... I’m not exactly getting rich at Beach Babes. I’d talked with Susan when she first hired me about maybe selling some of my designs, but that never seems to get off the ground. Maybe I should go back to Seattle and get a job in an office somewhere. Or at Nordstrom’s.”
“It costs a lot more to live in Seattle than it does here,” Nora said.
“Yeah, but I’d make more.”
“But you’d lose all of us,” Annie reminded her.
“True. And when it comes right down to it, friends are worth more than any amount of money. Still,” she added wistfully, “I’d sure like to have both. Maybe I should play the lottery.”
“There’s a good way to throw away your money,” Tyrella said in disgust.
“Oh, but if I won... Mega Millions is up to fifty-two million, but I’d settle for Lotto. That’s up to eight.”
“I’d settle for a million,” said Annie.
“What would you do with that million?” Patricia Whiteside asked her. Patricia, herself, was looking elegant in white slacks, wedge sandals and a red top accented with a red-and-white polka-dot scarf. Patricia didn’t need to win the lottery. She was doing fine.
“I’d buy myself a food truck and sell wraps and croissant sandwiches and cookies,” Annie said.
“And I’d give you the recipe for my oatmeal ones,” Aunt Edie told her.
“I’d quit dishing up ice cream and make wind chimes and cute ice cream dishes decorated with shells,” Nora said, “and hit all the arts and crafts stores from here to Seattle.”
“You love your ice cream business,” Edie said in surprise.
“Yes, I do,” Nora admitted. “But I’m tired of being on my feet all the time, and I want more time to be creative. In fact, maybe I won’t wait to win that million. Maybe I’ll turn the business over to the boys and let them get plantar fasciitis. Beau and Beck are already managing the fun-plex. They could handle the parlor, too.”
“You could open up an arts and crafts store here,” Jenna said. “I’d sure love to do something like that. In addition to managing the Driftwood,” she quickly added lest her aunt worry she was planning on defecting.
“Is that what you’d do with a million?” Courtney asked her.
Jenna shook her head. “I don’t know what I’d do with a million. In fact, I don’t know if I’d even want a million. But I’d love to come up with enough money to put a roof on our motel. If I could find money for that and a few other things we need I’d be one happy camper.”
“You will,” Tyrella assured her. “I’m praying about it. That money’s gonna come. I don’t know from where, but it’s gonna come just when you need it.”
“Can you pray me a big win in the lottery while you’re at it?” Courtney asked, making Tyrella frown and shake her head. Tyrella obviously didn’t believe in gambling.
The party broke up around ten and Jenna spent the next hour chatting with her sister via text, then went to bed. The next morning the sun was shining and she could see blue waves curling their way to the beach. Her first client—the mayor!—was coming at ten. She had time for a beach walk.
She donned shorts and flip-flops and made her way through the beach grass to the sandy shore. The air was so clean down here. She greedily gulped it in, then took off her flip-flops and started down the beach barefoot. What a gorgeous morning! What a beautiful scene! How could a woman not feel positive, hopeful even, on a day like this?
Speaking of beautiful, here came Seth, jogging her way. He was something to watch, those leg muscles flexing, arms pumping. Not a spec of fat on the man.
He slowed down at the sight of her, a sure sign he was going to stop and say hello. “Don’t stop on my account,” she called.
“Not planning on it,” he called back. He caught up with her, turned her around and started moving her his direction. “Run with me.”
“I don’t run,” she explained as her klutzy feet struggled to keep up. That afternoon in the parking lot had been an exception.
“Sure you do. Everybody runs. You ran as a kid, right?”
“Yeah, playing tag. But that was a long time ago,” she said, gasping for breath.
He on the other hand was having no trouble breathing. “Gets your heart pounding.”
“It’s pounding.” Right about out of her chest. She pulled up, bent over and sucked in more air to her poor, starving lungs.
He, too, stopped. “After all the work you’ve been doing I’d think you’d be in great shape.”
“I guess you’d be wrong,” she said. “The only way I ever plan to run is if a bear is chasing me.”
“I heard someone spotted one over on Razor Clam last week,” he said. “Better stay in shape,” he added with a wink.
“I’ll stay in shape my way. You stay in shape yours,” she said.
“Okay, suit yourself. But there’s nothing like a morning run on the beach.”
“Or a walk,” she said. “And don’t come haunting me if you keel over dead.”
He chuckled, then was off again.
She stood for a moment, watching him go. Yep, the beach was sure beautiful in the morning.
By the time Jenna had finished her walk and showered Aunt Edie had bacon and eggs frying on the stove. Sabrina was nowhere in sight. No surprise. Teenagers excelled in sleeping away a morning.
Once Jenna was showered and dressed, she did check in on her girl, kneeling by the bed and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“What time is it?” Sabrina mumbled. She was splayed out across the bed, one foot sticking out from under the covers.
“Almost ten. Are you planning on getting up anytime soon?”
“There’s nothing to do.”
“The library will be open in an hour. Or you could do some sketching at the beach.”
“When are we going to dye my hair?”
“This afternoon, after I’ve finished with my clients. Meanwhile, see if you can find something to do besides lying here like something dead washed up on shore.”
“You’re always wanting me to do things,” Sabrina complained.
“That’s because there’s so much to do in life. You don’t want to miss out on anything.”
Sabrina grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her head. “I won’t cuz there’s nothing to do here.”
Jenna wished she could have a moment with nothing to do. “Well, I can think of something. You could pick up your room, Miss Piggy.”
Sabrina clamped the pillow more securely over her ears. Jenna gave her foot a playful tickle, then left to start her day.
She’d gotten the massage table warmed up and her towels ready to go when her first customer, Parker Thorne, the mayor of Moonlight Harbor, arrived.
Parker was a compact woman who looked to be in her early sixties. No hint of gray in the mayor’s brown hair, though, and it was cut short and stylish. She had a toned body that proclaimed her a devotee of the gym, and a kind of friendliness that felt a little on the slick side.
“We’re all so happy that Edie has help now,” she said to Jenna. “It will be wonderful to see her little place all fixed up again.”
“We hope to get there,” Jenna said as she worked on Parker’s shoulder.
“I’m sure you will, and that will be a boon for both yourselves and the community. It’s nice when everything looks shiny penny pretty,” Parker continued.
Shiny penny pretty?
“It leaves a good impression on our visitors.”
Ah, and right now the Driftwood Inn was looking more like a penny someone had set on the railroad track to get squished by a train. Jenna frowned and concentrated on not letting her hands dig too deeply into the mayor’s oh-so-trim, shiny-penny-pretty bod.
But she couldn’t resist saying, “I can see how it might be a challenge for some of the businesses to stay shiny penny pretty when it’s hard to get a loan.” Hmm. Maybe the mayor could talk to good old Sherwood at the bank.
“Yes, that is a challenge. Some of our businesses struggle. It’s difficult when so many visitors are seasonal.”
“Maybe we should try and find a way to get them to come down more throughout the year,” Jenna suggested.
“Oh, we’re working on that,” Parker said breezily.
“Yeah? What’s being done?”
“We have all kinds of plans in the works.”
Very comforting. And very evasive. Jenna wasn’t so impressed with the mayor of Moonlight Harbor.
But she liked getting paid, and she was happy to take the woman’s money.
She was also happy to take money from one of the cops who’d come to rescue her from her fake burglar. It turned out Officer Mushroom’s name was Frank Stubbs. Poor man. At all of five-five, he probably took plenty of teasing over that.
It turned out Frank was single. “Been on my own for the last three years, ever since the wife and me split,” he said, and groaned as Jenna worked a knot out of his back. “Man, you’re good.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. Then, before he could get any further into discussing his single state, or hers, she asked, “How long have you been on the force down here?”
“Too long. I’m ready to hang up my handcuffs and spend my days fishing. Well, on second thought, maybe I’ll keep the handcuffs,” he added with a chuckle.
Oh, yes, Frank was a witty one.
“Sounds like a great life. Fishing, that is,” Jenna added.
“It is. You can’t go wrong living at the beach. But my old place gets lonely. It needs a woman’s touch.”
And here it came. Jenna braced herself.
Sure enough. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Jenna was spared answering by a screech coming from the living room. “Get out!” cried Aunt Edie. “Get out, you horrible thing! Help! Help!”
Jenna tore out of the room, leaving Frank to fumble for his pants. “I’m coming, Aunt Edie!” Why, oh, why had she tossed that pepper spray?