Chapter Twenty
To Do:
Make soup for Aunt Edie
Clean Roger’s cage
Cry
Jenna cleaned Roger’s cage and made some chicken soup for her aunt. It seemed silly to be making soup in July but it was all she could think to do to help Aunt Edie feel better.
Actually, the only thing that would make her aunt feel better would be to learn that Jenna had been able to catch hold of the money that was slipping away. She was going to try and dribble out money to Damien in as small amounts as possible, but he’d demanded a chunk up front. That coupled with what she owed in taxes had crippled them, blowing away much of her windfall. Herbie didn’t extend credit and her charge card was maxed out. And then there was that bank loan, lurking in the shadows.
“I’ve been a foolish old woman,” her aunt had said after the party broke up Friday night. “Trying to hang on to the past and drag it with me into the future. Things change. Things fall apart. Things die.”
And right there, before Jenna’s eyes, a part of her aunt had died.
She wasn’t interested in the soup when Jenna took some up to her. Pete, who was still sitting by her bed, passed up the offer of food also. He was almost in as bad a shape as Aunt Edie.
Jenna went back downstairs, did some paperwork, cried. Cleaned the downstairs bathroom. Cried. Baked cookies—they weren’t as good as Aunt Edie’s—and cried some more.
She checked on her aunt, who was awake but in no mood to visit and refused to take her medicine. Finally, she got in her car and drove to the pier, sat down and watched as a little fishing boat bobbed out to sea. How easy life looked out there on the water. No worries. No disappointment. Just the sun and the summer breeze.
Aunt Edie wouldn’t have any worries once they sold the place, Jenna reminded herself. She’d be able to live quite comfortably.
Comfortably, but not happily. Her life’s blood was the Driftwood Inn. She was fading away right along with their hopes for keeping the place going. If they lost the Driftwood Inn Jenna knew she’d lose Aunt Edie, as well. The woman would die of a broken heart. She already was.
Her mom’s shift at the grocery store had ended. Jenna put in a call. “Aunt Edie’s not doing well.”
“Oh, no,” Mel said. “What happened?”
Jenna relayed their latest misery and her mother listened, making the appropriate sounds of sympathy as she talked.
“How about you?” Mel said at last. “How are you doing?”
“Rotten. It seems so unfair. All that hard work and then that money came in, like a fairy tale. But instead of a happy ending we got hit again. And now, we’re almost back to square one.”
“Not quite. You have some money.”
“Not enough. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Do you want me to come down there? I have tomorrow off.”
There wasn’t anything her mother could do to improve their circumstances but Jenna said an emphatic yes.
“I’ll pack a few things and start down right away,” Mel said.
Her mother would have to work on Monday so it would be a short visit, but even a short visit was better than nothing. A shot of moral support and maybe Jenna could find a way to keep going.
A few minutes after she finished talking to her mom Jenna’s cell rang. Sabrina!
She pressed the phone icon and eagerly accepted her daughter’s call.
Sabrina barely gave her time to say hello. She was crying. “I want to come home.”
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“Daddy doesn’t want me here. All he cares about is Aurora.”
No, all he cared about was himself.
“Please, Mommy, let me come home.”
Mommy. She hadn’t been Mommy in a long time. Once more her daughter was a little girl. With a big hurt. What on earth had happened?
“Of course, you can come home. Grandma’s coming down. I’ll have her pick you up.”
“Okay,” Sabrina said, catching in a ragged breath.
“I’ve missed you. It’ll be good to have you back.”
“Oh, Mommy!” And the crying started again.
It took a few moments to calm her daughter, and several reassurances that no, Aunt Edie wasn’t mad at her for what she’d done. “But you’ll have to earn the money to pay her back.”
“I know. I will.”
“Okay. You get your things together and Grandma will be there soon.”
“Okay.” Sabrina sounded relieved.
She wasn’t half as relieved as Jenna. She put in a call to her mother and explained what had happened.
“I’m on my way,” Mel said. “See you soon.”
Soon couldn’t come soon enough. Sabrina wasn’t the only one who wanted her mommy.
Jenna called Damien and told him Sabrina had had enough.
“That’s fine with me,” he said. “She’s been a real handful. You’ve let her turn into a brat.”
“She wasn’t a brat before you left,” Jenna snapped, and cut off the call.
He didn’t deserve his daughter’s love. He didn’t deserve anyone’s love. She wondered how long before Aurora would figure that out.
Who cared? The important thing was that Sabrina would soon be back where she belonged. Jenna drove to the house feeling as jubilant as a woman who was about to see her dreams go up in smoke and possibly lose a dear relative could feel.
Maybe seeing Sabrina would perk Aunt Edie up, give her a reason to keep going. Jenna hoped so.
Back at the house, Pete was still sitting vigil and Aunt Edie was lying in bed with her eyes closed. “Why don’t you take a break?” Jenna suggested. “I’ll sit with her.”
He nodded. “I need a drink,” he said, and left the room.
“How about you, Aunt Edie,” Jenna whispered. “What do you need?” As if she couldn’t guess.
She fetched herself a glass of water and tried to coax Aunt Edie into trying one of her cookies.
“I’m not hungry,” Aunt Edie said, eyes still closed.
“I don’t blame you for not wanting one. They’re not as good as yours.”
No reply.
“Really, nothing I make in the kitchen’s going to be as good as what you make. You’re still the best cook ever.”
Still no reply.
“I have a little bit of good news,” Jenna ventured. “Sabrina’s coming home. I think she missed us.”
Aunt Edie responded with a light snore.
A snore was better than nothing. Hopefully, seeing Sabrina would perk her up.
It was nearly eight when her mother and Sabrina rolled in. Jenna had been sitting on the front porch waiting, and at the sight of them she raced down the steps.
Sabrina dashed from the car and into her arms. “Mommy! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
“I know,” Jenna said, and kissed the top of her head. “Now, come on. Let’s see if your grandma needs help with her suitcase.”
Her mother had packed lightly and so, other than a bag of groceries, her mom’s vintage train case and Sabrina’s backpack, there wasn’t much to bring in. “I’ll take your things up to my room,” Jenna said to her mother. “You can sleep with me. Sabrina, why don’t you go put that milk and orange juice in the fridge.”
Sabrina nodded and disappeared into the kitchen and Jenna led her mother upstairs. Once they were in the bedroom and out of earshot, Jenna asked, “How is she?”
“Pretty unhappy. I’m afraid she’s had a rude awakening.” Mel shook her head. “Every girl wants to think she’s her daddy’s little princess. Sadly, Damien has another princess.”
“So, they ignored her,” Jenna guessed.
“Pretty much, and the times they did take her out I guess Aurora got bossy. I think the final nail in the coffin came when she overheard them arguing about her. Aurora wanted her gone and I’m afraid Damien didn’t exactly stick up for her. He said something to the effect of them having to suck it up. At least, that’s what Sabrina heard.”
“Good Lord,” Jenna said in horror. How it must have hurt to hear that coming from the father she adored. “What did I ever see in him?”
“A handsome, talented man. One can hardly blame you for assuming he had a heart.”
“I hate for her to see what a jerk he is.”
“She was going to at some point. Find some good male role models down here and she’ll be okay.”
Jenna thought of Seth Waters, white knight. And Brody, who’d been unwilling to take so much as a penny of the money she’d won. Yes, her daughter did have some good role models here.
“How’s Edie?” Mel asked. “Any better?”
Sabrina was in the room now. “What’s wrong with Aunt Edie?”
Jenna’s right eye began to twitch. “She’s not feeling good.”
“Has she got a cold?”
“No, it’s a little more serious.”
Sabrina’s eyes got wide. “Is she going to be all right?”
What to say to that? “I hope so.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s wearing out, honey,” Mel said softly.
Sabrina’s brows knit. “No.” She shook her head. “No, she can’t...die.” She rushed from the room.
“Sabrina!” Jenna called, and ran after her, chasing her into Aunt Edie’s bedroom.
Aunt Edie was still as a corpse. Sabrina fell by the side of her bed and threw herself on the old woman’s arm. “Don’t die, Aunt Edie. Please don’t die. I’m sorry I took your money. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay you back every penny. I love you. Please don’t leave us. Please.” She started sobbing and, watching her, Jenna felt her own tears returning.
A moment later, an age-spotted hand with blue vein ridges lifted and rested on Sabrina’s pink hair.
“We need you. Don’t leave us,” she begged.
Jenna took her daughter’s arm. “Come on, let’s let Aunt Edie rest.”
Sabrina sobbed her way out of the room, ran into her own room and slammed the door.
“Let’s go downstairs and have some iced tea,” said Mel. In the kitchen, she found the cookies Jenna had made sitting on the counter and bit into one. “These are good.”
“Not as good as Aunt Edie’s.” Jenna fell onto a kitchen chair. “She’s dying, Mom. I let her down and I’ve done nothing but bring stress into her life. I got her hopes up when I won that money, and shot them down again. I don’t have enough money to fix the roof and get linens and...” She shook her head. “The vinyl in the bathrooms. I had myself convinced we could actually get people to stay here with that crumbly old vinyl. I just wanted a roof, damn it.”
Mel sat down next to her and laid a hand on her arm. “Honey, this isn’t about you failing. It’s about you trying. Your aunt knows that. We all know that.”
Jenna rubbed her face, trying to scrub away her misery. “I always loved it here. I wanted to be back. To stay back.”
“You can still stay. Yes, you may have to sell the Driftwood, but that doesn’t mean you can’t rent a little house down here, run your massage business. Date those handsome men your sister’s been telling me about,” she added, a smile in her voice.
Jenna dropped her hands and frowned. “She told you?”
“Of course. You know your sister can’t keep a secret. And you wouldn’t be able to keep it from me much longer, either, you know that.”
“I’m so done with love,” Jenna said.
“But maybe love’s not done with you,” said Mel. She got up, poured a glass of iced tea and set it in front of Jenna along with a cookie on a napkin. “Come on, drink up. Eat. Your adventure’s not over and I suspect you’re going to need your strength.”
She needed more than strength. She needed money.
And her daughter needed her. Sabrina surfaced from her room with red, swollen eyes. Cookies held no appeal and she didn’t want to text or watch TV. It seemed all she wanted was to stick to Jenna’s side. Finally, at ten, worn out by her emotions, she went to bed.
Pete came back shortly after she’d gone, wanting to know how Aunt Edie was doing. “No change,” Jenna said, and introduced him to her mom.
He doffed his hat and said the required, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Mel said. “And thank you for being such a comfort and help to my aunt these past few years.”
He shot a look Jenna’s direction as if wondering what she’d been saying.
Tonight she had nothing bad to say about him. She merely smiled.
“I try,” he said. “I care about Edie.”
“I can see that you do,” Mel said. “I’m sure she’ll be better in the morning.”
He nodded, looked at the floor, then left.
“He’s driven me nuts ever since we arrived,” Jenna said, “but tonight I feel sorry for him. He really does care about Aunt Edie.”
They sat up talking until almost midnight, when Mel finally yawned and said, “I think I need to go to bed. You coming?”
“In a little bit,” Jenna said, and let her mother go on up without her. She looked out the kitchen window. No fire on the beach tonight. Maybe Seth was over at the Drunken Sailor, playing pool.
Or maybe he was in his room. She slipped out of the house and across the parking lot to room number two, knocked softly on the door. No answer.
Maybe it was just as well. Who knew what she’d have done in her present state of mind.
She finally went to bed. Her mother was already asleep, breathing softly. Melody Jones never snored. She was much too ladylike for that. Everything she did, she did with grace and calm, even sleeping.
“Oh, Mom, if only I could be more like you,” Jenna murmured. She got ready for bed, then climbed in next to her mother and snuggled close. “Please don’t leave me for a long, long time. I couldn’t survive.”
Mel sighed as if to say, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Jenna closed her eyes and finally, finally went to sleep.
On Sunday morning she awoke to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes. Her mother was still next to her in bed, sound asleep. Had Sabrina gotten up?
She went to her daughter’s room and, finding it empty, smiled. This was a new and improved Sabrina, up early and making breakfast. Aunt Edie would be proud. She’d get some of that freshly brewed coffee and bring it up to her.
To her surprise, she entered the kitchen to find her aunt sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and offering instructions as Sabrina put together a blackberry coffee cake. Her heart caught in her throat.
“Aunt Edie!” She hurried over and hugged her aunt and Aunt Edie patted her arm. “You’re feeling better?”
“Yes, I am. I’m still a little tired, so our girl is making breakfast for us.”
“Blackberry coffee cake, your favorite,” Sabrina said over her shoulder to Jenna.
Jenna fell onto the nearest chair, relief washing over her. “I’m so glad to see you up. You gave us a real scare yesterday.”
Her aunt’s smile fell away. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me.”
“Selfish to not feel good? Hardly.”
“No, selfish to give up.”
Oh, boy. But what if they had to? “Aunt Edie...” Jenna began.
“Oh, I don’t mean on the inn. If we have to sell it, then we’ll sell it.”
“Sell the Driftwood?” Sabrina turned away from her project and stared at them in horror. “We can’t sell the Driftwood, not when we’ve worked so hard on it. Anyway, you have all that money, Mom.”
“It’s not turning out to be as much as I thought,” Jenna said, and left it at that. Much as she despised Damien she still couldn’t bring herself to paint a bad picture of him for her daughter. He’d already painted a bad enough one.
“Thanks to that horrible man of yours,” Aunt Edie said, and then, realizing what she’d done, looked horrified.
Jenna braced herself.
“Is it because of Daddy?” Sabrina asked, the disappointment plain on her face.
“Things don’t always go as you plan,” Jenna said evasively.
“I hate him,” Sabrina said with all the passion of angry youth, and turned back to her mixing bowl. Hate and love, how easily you mixed them up when you were a kid.
“You do now, but someday...” What? Jenna decided not to finish the sentence. “Anyway, things will work out,” she said, bringing them back to the subject at hand.
“It’s time to let go,” Aunt Edie said with a sigh. “We did make so many wonderful memories here, and I have to admit, the Driftwood Inn has meant a lot to me. I loved being able to meet people and, well, those guests almost became like family,” she said with a smile. “But they weren’t, not really. This is my family.” Her smile vanished and she dropped her gaze. “I so wanted to help you.”
“We wanted to help you, too,” Jenna said earnestly. And they’d all failed.
“I thought the Driftwood Inn could be useful again. I thought I could be useful.” Jenna was about to speak, but Aunt Edie held up her hand. “After Sabrina came to my bedside last night I had a lot to think about. And do you know what I concluded?”
Jenna was almost afraid to ask. “What?”
“That maybe I can still be useful. Just because we have to sell the Driftwood doesn’t mean we can’t stay here in Moonlight Harbor. We can keep the house and I can keep teaching Sabrina how to cook. We’ll all be together, and we’ll all be at the beach. And that’s what counts, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Aunt Edie,” Jenna said, tears in her eyes.
“I know it’s not much to give you.”
“It’s everything,” Jenna said, and hugged her.
Aunt Edie smiled and then heaved a sigh. “I’m still a little tired. I think I’ll go back upstairs and rest. Maybe Sabrina will bring me some of that coffee cake when it’s out of the oven.”
“For sure,” Sabrina said. “Do you want me to help you upstairs?”
Aunt Edie waved away the offer. “I’m not dead yet.”
Thank God.
Mel came down just as Sabrina was taking out the coffee cake. “I looked in on Aunt Edie. She’s in bed but she says she’s feeling better.”
“She is.”
“Good,” said Mel. “Then I can go back and not worry about you.”
“But you just got here,” Sabrina protested.
“I know. Sadly, I have to work tomorrow. But I’ll stay for lunch. How about a beach walk? Then I’ll treat you girls to some popcorn shrimp at the Seafood Shack.”
They gave Aunt Edie some coffee cake and then played hooky from church, something that was more than okay with Sabrina, and walked the beach, looking for agates. This time they didn’t find any, but Sabrina was happy with the beach glass she discovered.
“You’ll have to show her how to make wind chimes,” Mom said to Jenna.
“Can we do that today?” Sabrina asked eagerly.
“Probably,” Jenna said, and her daughter smiled, then raced ahead in search of more beach treasure.
“Being down here is going to be good for her,” Mom predicted.
“I hope so,” Jenna said.
Her mother put an arm around her. “It will be. Things will work out.”
One way or another, Jenna thought wistfully.
They returned laden with beach treasures and, even though her circumstances hadn’t changed, Jenna felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from her shoulders.
“You’ll be okay,” her mother told her, giving her one final hug before leaving.
Yes, she would. If only...
She steered her thoughts away from the Driftwood Inn.
Mel had barely left when the doorbell rang. Jenna went to answer it, figuring it was one of her aunt’s friends. Instead, she opened the door to find a chunky forty-year-old man with brown curls in the process of curling their way off his forehead. He wore jeans that were sure to show a butt crack if he bent over and a faded Nirvana T-shirt. Next to him stood a short, roly-poly woman with stringy, long brown hair and glasses. She was holding a squirming three-year-old boy with hair the same color as his father’s.
The man looked at Jenna in confusion but she’d have known that snub nose and those big, brown eyes anywhere. “Winston. What are you doing here?”
His brows shot up. “Jenna? I haven’t seen you in years.”
“It’s been a while.”
“I want down!” cried the little boy, straining against his mother’s arms.
She set him down and he raced past Jenna into the living room. Oh, boy.
“We came to see Aunt Edie,” Winston said. “Thought she’d like to meet the wife and see Winston Junior.”
Oh, yes, that was just what Aunt Edie needed when she didn’t feel well. “Actually, she’s not feeling too good.”
“Is she okay? Is she dying?”
Did he sound hopeful? “No,” Jenna said, disgusted. She could hear Roger squawking and decided she was stuck letting the invaders into the house. “Come on in,” she said, and stepped aside.
“Call the cops!” shrieked Roger. “Call the cops!”
Jenna got to the living room in time to see little Winston Junior shaking the base of the cage. She rushed over and pulled his hand away. “We don’t do that to Roger. He gets seasick.”
“Give me whiskey,” Roger begged. Jenna knew just how he felt.
Sabrina had come out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was all about and stood staring at the little terror, who was now jumping up, batting the base of the cage like a piñata. “Hey, don’t do that!” she snapped, and the boy pulled his mouth down at the corners with two fingers and stuck his tongue out at her. Such an adorable child.
Winston was in the room now, along with the missus, and he flopped onto the couch. “I see she’s still got the bird.”
“Yes, she does. So, Winston, what brings you to town?”
“Oh, we were just driving through on our way to Oregon.”
Moonlight Harbor wasn’t on the way to anything.
“Thought we’d stop in. I haven’t seen Aunt Edie in a while.”
“You caught her at a bad time,” Jenna said. Meanwhile, Winston’s son was using the seashell chair for a trampoline.
“Can you make him stop doing that?” Jenna asked.
“What? Oh, sorry. Win-Win, sit down.”
The child plopped onto the chair, crossed his arms and scowled.
“Maybe he’d like a cookie,” Jenna said. “Sabrina, can you take Win-Win into the kitchen and give him a cookie?”
Sabrina looked at her mother as if she’d just told her to get on out there in the Coliseum and fight the lions. “Do you want a cookie?” she asked the boy grudgingly. Jenna’s cookies may not have been as good as Aunt Edie’s but she suspected that Winston Junior, like his father, wasn’t that discriminating when it came to food.
“Yessss!” And Win-Win was off and running.
“I wouldn’t mind something to eat myself,” said Winston. He sniffed. “Something sure smells good.”
The aroma of coffee cake still hung faintly in the air. Jenna said nothing. That had been for Aunt Edie. If Winston got near it, the rest would be gone before you could say oink.
“I’ll go get us a plate,” offered his wife, and waddled off to the kitchen.
“Have Sabrina put some cookies in a container to take with you,” Jenna called after her. “That way you’ll have something to eat on the road,” she said to her cousin.
“We’re not in that big of a hurry,” he said. “So, what are you doing here, Jenna? Visiting?”
“I’m living here now,” she said, making his easy smile shrink. “I’m running the Driftwood Inn for Aunt Edie.”
“Looks like you’re in over your head. The place is a dump.”
“I only got here last month,” she said. “It’s taking some time to pull it together.” No way was she telling him they were going to have to pull the plug on it. He’d be all over that, happy to help her sell it and hold his hand out for a chunk of the money. Whether it was food or money, Winston didn’t care. He’d always been greedy for both. She could still see him when they were kids, whining to his parents that they hadn’t given him enough spending money. It had seemed to Jenna, whose piggy bank was always starving, that he had plenty to spend, even when his father wasn’t working. Which was a lot of the time.
“How are Aunt Grace and Uncle Arthur?” Her mom kept in touch with her brother even though they had little in common. Mel was a hard worker. And Uncle Arthur? He’d spent more time drawing unemployment than he had working. Last Jenna had heard he was getting ready to retire from his job as a tire salesman.
“Dad’s retired now. Mom’s still working.”
“And how about you, Winston?”
He shrugged. “I’m in between jobs.”
Of course. Which would explain why he’d stopped by to see good old Aunt Edie. Jenna knew her aunt had loaned him money over the years. Judging from the letter her aunt had included in Jenna’s birthday card she was about through doing that. Which was just as well, considering the fact that they didn’t have any to loan.
“Thought we’d take a run down to see Kelly’s folks while we’ve got some time,” Winston said.
And suck them dry for a while. Jenna was so sick of mooches.
“Well, Winston,” she said, “I hope you guys weren’t planning on staying here. There’s no room.” No room at the inn. Ha, ha.
He frowned. “You can probably find a corner for us somewhere. Aunt Edie’s got that spare bedroom.”
Jenna shook her head. “It’s my office now and I can’t have you sleeping on my massage table.”
The frown dipped lower. “You’ve kind of taken over, haven’t you?”
“No kind of about it,” she said sweetly.
He pointed a pudgy finger at her. “You know, you always were bossy.”
She had to smile at that. “That’s because I’m the oldest.”
“Only by six months.”
She sighed. “Look, if you want to go up and see Aunt Edie, I’ll take you. But she really hasn’t been feeling well, so you can’t stay long.”
“Maybe we’ll let Aunt Edie be the judge of that,” he snapped. He marched up the stairs, Jenna following in his wake. “You’ve probably been telling her all kinds of lies about me,” he muttered.
“What would I tell her? I haven’t seen you in years.”
“Your mom’s probably told you stuff.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Winston. Don’t be so paranoid.”
He stopped on a stair and whirled around to glare at her. “Paranoid? You’re moved in here, happy as a clam and telling me I can’t stay and you’re calling me paranoid?”
“I was invited to move in,” she said.
“Yeah, right,” he said, and started stamping the rest of the way to the landing. “I heard you and the artist were splitting. You probably came down here and gave her some sad sob story about how you couldn’t make it.”
Ah, yes, good old Cousin Winston. He hadn’t improved with age. “I’m making it. I have a business. How about you?”
“I’m going to be doing an internet start-up. I’ll be rich enough to buy this place in two years.”
“Well, go, Winston,” she said, reverting to her thirteen-year-old snotty voice.
“You should be glad I came down,” he said as he marched along the landing. “It’s obvious you need help here.” He pushed open Aunt Edie’s door without bothering to knock. “Aunt Edie,” he greeted her in a hearty voice.
Jenna was right behind him and saw the expression on her aunt’s face. Unpleasant surprise.
“I tried to tell him you hadn’t been feeling well,” she said.
“Winston, what are you doing here?” Aunt Edie asked wearily.
“I was passing through and wanted to stop by and see you,” he said. “You haven’t met my wife yet.”
“No. And I sent you a wedding present four years ago and am still waiting for a thank-you.”
The tips of Winston’s ears went red and even though Jenna couldn’t see his face she knew it matched them. “We’ve been busy,” he said.
“I imagine. With your little boy. I sent a card and twenty-five dollars and never heard a peep.”
Cousin Winston was in deep doo-doo. “Auntie, we really did appreciate that.”
“Yes, I could tell,” she said. “But it was nice of you to stop by. How many years has it been now? Let’s see. I think the last time I saw you was about five years ago. You wanted to start a business designing websites and asked me for money. Which I gave you. And I didn’t get a thank-you for that, either.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Edie. I had my hands full trying to get it off the ground.”
“And did you?”
“Uh, no. That didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Winston.”
“But hey, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry you haven’t been feeling well.”
“I’m better now,” she said.
“That’s good. We wouldn’t want to lose you.”
“I wasn’t planning on getting lost,” she said shortly.
He manufactured a laugh. “Well, I thought maybe we’d hang around for a couple of days, catch up, give you a chance to meet Winston Junior.”
“I don’t think so, Winston,” Aunt Edie said. “I’m not feeling that much better. And really, we’re not in a position to entertain at the moment. Jenna has her hands full renovating the inn.”
“It looks like she could use some help.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Jenna said, and he scowled at her over his shoulder.
“It was nice of you to stop by,” Aunt Edie said, “but I’m sure you need to get on the road to your next adventure.”
“Jeez, Aunt Edie, we just got here,” he protested.
“Winston, this is what happens when you drop in on people unannounced. They can’t always entertain you. I suggest the next time you take it into your head to come butter me up you at least call and see if it’s convenient. And maybe, if I ever get a thank-you for everything I’ve done for you these past few years or hear from you when you don’t want something from me, I’ll be more inclined to entertain you.”
Ouch. This was a side of her aunt Jenna had never seen.
Winston bristled. “If that’s the way you feel I guess we won’t stay.”
“I’m sure you’ll be happier somewhere else,” Aunt Edie agreed.
Winston said no more. He left the room in a huff.
“I never liked that boy,” Aunt Edie said. “He’s always been selfish. Go hustle him out before he eats everything in the cupboard.”
Jenna snickered and followed her cousin out of the room.
He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. “You’ve poisoned her against me,” he accused.
“I don’t know, Winston. I’d say you’ve done a pretty good job of that all on your own.”
“Fine. Let this whole place fall down around your ears. And when you need someone to come help you, don’t be calling me.”
“I promise I won’t,” Jenna said.
Win-Win and the missus were coming out of the kitchen now. The child had a cookie in each hand and his mother held a paper plate piled high with them.
“We’re leaving, babe,” Winston said to her just as she started to sit down.
“Leaving? I thought we were going to stay for the week.”
“We’re not wanted here,” he said, looking loftily at Jenna. “And I never stay where I’m not wanted.”
And here was yet another thing for which to be thankful.