Chapter Three
To Do:
Finish packing up kitchen and craft stuff
Call Aunt Edie with ETA
Rent trailer
Buy chocolate for grumpy daughter
The first Saturday in June found Jenna Jones and her daughter on their way to Moonlight Harbor, towing behind their car a tiny rented trailer filled with their most valued possessions—scrapbooks, crafting supplies, clothes, Sabrina’s bike and Jenna’s massage table and oils and other business necessities, just in case she needed to supplement their income from the motel. Or in case she got the itch to do massage, which was highly likely, since she loved what she did. Most of the furniture had been sold, and that had given her some extra cash. Her linens and the Wedgwood china Gram had given her had been stored in Mom’s basement, along with Sabrina’s bedroom set, after Jenna realized that would have been the final straw for her daughter.
Big clue: “My bed? You’re selling my bed?”
“Aunt Edie will have a bed for you,” Jenna had assured her.
“But it won’t be my bed,” she’d argued. “And what if we don’t like it there? We won’t have beds when we come home.”
“Honey, this is going to be our home.” At that, Sabrina had looked thunderous and Jenna’s nervous tic had reappeared. “Okay, we won’t sell your bed.” No bed selling.
Taking Sabrina out of school early turned out to be the one thing Jenna had done right in her daughter’s eyes. Sabrina’s grades weren’t getting any better. Her teachers were all mean and she hated school. Jenna hoped she’d be in a better frame of mind come fall.
Daddy didn’t bother to come see his daughter off. Instead, he’d texted her. Have fun at the beach. Keep an eye out for detritus for me. As always, all about him.
“She doesn’t want to go, you know,” he’d told Jenna when he’d dropped Sabrina off the week before, after a father-daughter run to Dairy Queen that Sabrina had instigated.
“She’ll like it once she’s there,” Jenna had insisted. If she kept saying it often enough surely it would become true. “And it will help the budget if we have a place to live rent-free while I help my aunt run the motel.” She’d conveniently neglected to inform him that she was going to inherit said motel. She may have been stupid when she’d married him, but she wasn’t going to be stupid now that she was divorced from him.
“Well, at least that way you’ll have enough money to pay me what you owe me.”
Yep, all about him. “You mean I’ll have enough to pay you what you’re leeching off me,” she’d said, which had sent him roaring off in his truck while Jenna was left steaming.
Now, though, as they entered Harbor County, home of beachside towns, fishing ports and relaxation, the frustration and fury got left behind like unclaimed baggage. So what if the sky was gray and drizzly? The future was sunny. They crested the rise outside of Aberdeen and, in between the giant firs, caught sight of the Pacific Ocean in the distance.
“There it is,” Jenna said, sounding like an Oklahoma land-rush pioneer pointing out the Promised Land.
Sabrina was plugged into her iPod and ignored her. So far her enthusiasm for their new adventure had been underwhelming. But wait till she saw the town.
Jenna could hardly wait. Other than one quick visit after her high school graduation and a honeymoon weekend with Damien, she’d been MIA since her sophomore year in high school. Her first real job, working at the local McDonald’s, had kept her away. Then came the friend with the house on Hood Canal where there were boys galore, followed by a couple of boyfriends. Then, of course, along came Damien, who didn’t fall in love with Moonlight Harbor like she’d hoped. After they married, it seemed as if every time she planned to visit her aunt something came up that prevented her from going. Damien demanded a lot of attention.
Actually, more than a lot. Looking back on her life it seemed she’d married a psychic vampire. As their marriage progressed he grew bigger and she grew smaller, an insignificant planet orbiting him. Scrapbooking and various craft projects fell by the wayside. How could scrapbooking and refurbishing old furniture compare to Art? And, by the way, had she finished those posters for his exhibition?
She’d been crushed when he’d found another woman. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if Aurora had actually done her a favor and set her free, allowing her to come back to a place that had given her a happy childhood. Maybe it would give her a happy adulthood, too.
They drove through Aberdeen and then Quinault, a small town that had given up on logging and was working its way back to prosperity. “We’re almost there,” Jenna said to Sabrina after another few miles. “Beachcombing, whale watching, cute boys.”
That last item on the list made Sabrina smile, proof that she’d been able to hear her mother all along. She pulled out an earbud. “Can we get ice cream?”
“Of course we can. You can’t go to Moonlight Harbor and not get ice cream at the ice cream parlor.”
At last they reached their destination. There was the same white-rock gateway to the town that Jenna remembered, one of the first things to go up when the town was new.
Hmm. She didn’t remember the molehills rising like tiny mountains from the grass on both sides of the gateway. But there were flowers in the flower beds. Someone cared. And maybe they didn’t want to hurt the moles. She knew the many deer who roamed the town were a protected species, so why not the moles?
They turned in and started down the main road through town, Harbor Boulevard, named for the harbor that sat at the south end of town. Once a bustling harbor with a ferry service to Westhaven, a busy fishing town across the bay, it had gotten silted in over the years and was no longer viable for commercial use, although the pier was still there.
The town’s lifeblood was now tourism, and shops and restaurants abounded, with a couple of small, dated motels sandwiched in between. Many of the businesses were housed in buildings that had gone up in the sixties. But some new buildings had also sprung up, including an eye-catching group of cabana-style shops all painted in beachy colors of turquoise and mint green, yellow and an orange that made Jenna think of Creamsicles, offering everything from women’s clothing to kites. And there was a new addition, an art gallery. If Damien had known about that maybe they’d have made more trips to the beach. The seafood restaurant shaped like a lighthouse was still in business. Jenna had always loved the whimsy of that place.
In spite of the drizzle, people were out shopping. Many of them were seniors (hardly surprising considering the fact that there was a large retirement community there), but Jenna saw a few young families and some couples, as well. Where were the cute boys?
As if reading her mind, Sabrina asked, “Where are the kids my age?”
“They’re here.” Somewhere.
Jenna stole a look at her daughter. She was assessing the town and so far she didn’t look impressed.
Farther ahead, on the left, sat Good Times Ice Cream Parlor, one of Jenna’s favorite haunts when she was her daughter’s age. Right next to it was the Go-Go Carts go-cart track and the Paradise Fun-Plex, which consisted of a miniature golf course and an arcade. This should improve Sabrina’s mood.
Indeed it did. Her daughter was actually smiling.
“You ready for ice cream?” Jenna asked.
Sabrina nodded and they pulled in. The parlor itself was housed in one-half of the square building, painted pink with white trim. An arcade took up the other half. And next to that was the go-cart track and the miniature golf course. Good times indeed.
A giant cement strawberry ice cream cone sat out in front of the ice cream parlor, perfect for photo ops, although with the drizzle no one was bothering. Inside several people sat in booths or at little white wrought-iron tables and enjoyed double-scoop cones, sundaes and milkshakes. A retired couple frowned at a woman with a crying toddler who was trying to pay for ice cream for two little boys who were chasing each other back and forth. A middle-aged couple shared what looked like a hot-fudge sundae. A couple of teenage girls and a boy with scraggly hair, wearing a Seahawks sweatshirt over baggy jeans, stood at the counter, selecting ice cream while the pimply-faced boy behind the counter waited for them to decide.
He caught sight of Sabrina and his eyes widened in appreciation. She gave him a discouraging frown. His customers turned to see what he was staring at and the other boy smiled at Sabrina. She smiled back, but the two girls gave her the stare of death, which of course brought back her frown.
Meanwhile, the woman with the squalling child and rambunctious boys had finished paying and left, leaving the woman behind the counter free to wait on Jenna and Sabrina.
She was in her sixties with a smile as wide as her girth. Her hair was almost all gray now but Jenna would know that round, smiling face anywhere. Nora Singleton had been dishing out ice cream since Jenna was a kid.
“Hello, ladies, what will you have?” she asked.
“I’ll have a big order of sunshine,” Jenna said, quoting what she used to tell Nora whenever it was raining.
Nora squinted at her. “Jenna?”
Jenna nodded. “I’m back.”
“Well, welcome back. We haven’t seen you around here in ages.”
“It’s been too long,” Jenna agreed.
“Your aunt said you’d be coming to help her. I’m so glad. The poor thing’s been struggling ever since Ralph died.” She shook her head. “Hardly any of her family even made it down for the funeral.”
Jenna had been one of the ones who hadn’t made it. But life had gotten in the way. When Uncle Ralph died, she’d been too busy coping with a miscarriage to want to go anywhere. Instead, she’d sent flowers. It was the best she could do at the time. Anyway, she was here now, and that was what counted.
“It’s good you’re here,” Nora said. She turned her hundred-watt smile on Sabrina. “And who is this?”
“This is my daughter, Sabrina,” Jenna said, and Sabrina murmured a polite, “Nice to meet you.” She may have been unhappy about getting uprooted but it wasn’t stopping her from showing good manners, and Jenna was proud of her.
“You are just as cute as your mom was at your age. You’ll have all the boys after you,” Nora predicted, making Sabrina blush. “What kind of ice cream would you like?”
Sabrina looked down the rows of tubs. “Bubble Gum?”
“One of our most popular. How about we top it with a scoop of Deer Poop?”
Sabrina’s eyes shot open. “Excuse me?”
“Chocolate with chocolate-covered raisins,” Jenna translated.
Sabrina smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
“And how about you, Jenna? No, wait, let me guess. One scoop of Sand Pebble for you.”
“Sand Pebble?” Sabrina scanned the tubs.
“Butter Brickle with peanuts.”
“What’s Butter Brickle?” Sabrina asked.
Nora rolled her eyes. “What have you been feeding this poor child?”
“Obviously, not enough ice cream,” Jenna said.
“Obviously,” Nora agreed. “And how about a second scoop?”
Neither Jenna’s budget nor her waistline needed a second scoop. “I think one will do.”
“I hope you’re not passing up a second scoop because you’re dieting. You obviously don’t need to.”
“If I eat too much of your ice cream, I will,” Jenna said.
“I can’t think of a better way to get fat,” Nora said with a grin, and got busy scooping out their treats.
“It looks like you’ve expanded,” Jenna said, motioning to the neighboring fun-plex.
“Yes, we have. My boys, Beau and Beck, run all that. In fact, adding the arcade and the bumper cars was Beck’s idea. Needless to say, it was a good one.”
“So your boys are still here?” Jenna asked.
“Oh, yes. You can’t take fishermen away from the beach. My daughter moved away but she comes down to visit. Okay, Bubble Gum and Deer Poop,” she said, giving Sabrina two giant scoops in a waffle cone. “That’s our welcome to town serving,” she said with a wink.
She refused to take Jenna’s money once she’d handed over the cones. “Consider it a welcome home gift.”
Back in the car, Jenna offered her cone to Sabrina to sample. “Good, isn’t it?”
Sabrina nodded. “I like Bubble Gum better.”
“I did, too, until I discovered Sand Pebble and Wild Huckleberry,” Jenna said, and started the car.
They continued down Harbor Boulevard past more shops and restaurants, many looking a little tired and in need of paint, and a place to rent bikes and mopeds. “Can we do that?” asked Sabrina.
“When you’re old enough to drive,” Jenna said, making her frown.
Off-shoot streets with names like Beach Way and Razor Clam led to the other main drag, Sand Dune Drive, which ran parallel to the boulevard. The streets also took people either to the beach in one direction, past more shops, or away from the water to the neighborhoods where the natives lived. On Sand Dune Drive visitors could find a grocery store and pharmacy, as well as the library and the police and fire departments and city hall, and the Seaview Medical Building, which wasn’t much bigger than a house, to name a few. Jenna pointed to a restaurant in a faded red building. Red-checked curtains at the restaurant windows gave it a homey, welcoming look. “The Pizza Palace has the best pizza in the world. We’ll have to go there.”
Sabrina nodded eagerly. Pizza was her all-time favorite food.
Next to that sat a low building that housed Sunken Treasures Consignments and a new shop called Cindy’s Candies, which was sure to be a hit with Sabrina. Across the way sat the Drunken Sailor, the town’s popular pub, and here was something new, Cannabis Central. Well, there was a good pairing. It was hardly surprising that the town would now have a pot shop. Ever since Washington legalized marijuana, pot stores had been popping up all over like acne on a teenager’s face.
More tourist treats awaited them past the roundabout. “What’s that?” Sabrina asked, staring at the building with an entrance shaped like a giant gaping shark’s mouth. A young family stood posing inside the mouth while the dad snapped their picture.
“That’s Something Fishy. It’s a souvenir shop. They sell everything from saltwater taffy and postcards to preserved baby sharks in a tube.”
Sabrina made a face. “Ewww.”
“Yes, ewww to that, but they have a lot of fun things in there. Tomorrow I’ll take you in and you can check it out. In fact, we’ll do a tour of the town. How’s that sound?”
Sabrina nodded. “Good.”
Good? That was good. Jenna smiled.
More motels began to appear—a Quality Inn, a Best Western with a restaurant sandwiched between, and a beautiful old Victorian B and B with a long front porch, complete with wicker chairs for lounging. It was painted white with blue trim. One word summed it up: charming.
Sabrina’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. “Is that our motel?”
“No. That’s the Oyster Inn. It’s gorgeous inside. I remember eating in their restaurant for Gram’s birthday one year when we were all down visiting. I was ten and it was the first time I’d been in such a fancy place. Linens on the tables, fine crystal, my first ever crab cocktail. From what I hear the restaurant’s still as nice. We’ll have to go there and order you a crab cocktail.”
“Does our motel have a restaurant?” Sabrina asked.
“No, but there’s one next to it. And the motel has a pool.”
Sabrina smiled and took off a big bite of her ice cream. Ice cream, pizza and a pool. Jenna had scored some major points.
The two cars in front of them began to slow down. “Why’s everybody stopping?” Sabrina asked.
“Look,” Jenna said, pointing.
Farther ahead a deer and her fawn strolled across the road. A woman in the car ahead of them leaned out and snapped a picture with her phone.
“Wow,” Sabrina breathed, impressed.
Mama and baby made it to the other side and traffic—all three cars—began to move again.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Jenna said, and Sabrina nodded.
Good. Another favorable impression made.
Until they got to the end of Motel Row and finally came to the Driftwood Inn. Charming it was not. What had happened to it? If not for the sign hanging askew and blowing in the wind Jenna would have thought she was at the wrong address. The roof covering the long string of twenty rooms was missing shingles and one of the rooms had a board where there should have been a window. Once the place had been the color of a cloudless sky. Now it was faded and the paint was peeling, and a blackish mold was forming colonies on the walls of the motel. As for the promised pool, she didn’t dare look. The chain-link fence around it was bent and sad. A couple of ancient lounge chairs sat on the cement deck. One was tipped over. If there was water in that pool it was probably contaminated. A lone car, a gas hog from another era, brave enough to traverse the potholes in the parking lot, was camped at an end unit.
Sabrina looked around them in horror. “This place is a dump.”
It was. And the small, two-story gabled house next to it, Aunt Edie’s home, wasn’t in much better shape. Its paint, also once a cheery blue, was as faded and chipped as the motel’s. The long porch and its railing needed painting and a couple of the steps were leaning at a slant like something in a carnival fun house. The trees and bushes had been taken over by some kind of hanging moss. The lace curtains at the windows and the big pot of flowers on the porch made a vain attempt to dress up the place.
Sabrina had followed Jenna’s gaze. “That’s where we’re gonna live?”
Jenna’s right eye twitched. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix it up.” Blink, blink.
Too young for a vote of confidence, Sabrina said, “I want to go home.”
“Hey, now. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Sabrina looked at her as if she were insane. “You’re kidding, right?”
“At least it’s got a restaurant next door.”
All right, not really a restaurant. The Seafood Shack, situated on the other side of the parking lot, was barely big enough to support the giant wooden razor clam perched on its roof. But it was a novelty. People liked novelties, and having a place to eat right next to your motel was a bonus. Guests could just walk over and grab something.
Not that there was anyone walking across the parking lot or anyone inside the Seafood Shack grabbing. Well, lunch hour was past, so that was hardly surprising.
The gentle rain was becoming less gentle, pouring down in an angry patter. “Come on,” Jenna said. “Let’s go see Aunt Edie. And don’t say anything rude about the motel,” she added as they walked up the front steps. “Okay?”
“I wasn’t going to,” Sabrina said irritably. “You taught me better than that.”
The doorbell didn’t appear to work, so Jenna knocked on the door. She heard the chattering of a bird, and then muffled footsteps. “I’m coming,” called a thready little-old-lady voice.
“When?” Sabrina muttered.
It felt like forever standing on the porch with the rain soaking their sweaters and hair. “You don’t move so fast when you get to be Aunt Edie’s age,” said Jenna.
She’d barely finished speaking when the door opened. There stood her great-aunt. She was wearing jeans and tennis shoes and a sweatshirt with a seahorse on it that had Moonlight Harbor scrawled across it. Her hair was the same tightly permed cherry red it had always been, and she was still wearing her usual coral lipstick on lips that had grown thin with age. Silver earrings shaped like sand dollars hung from her ears and a collection of rings decorated her hands. To top off the ensemble, a pair of red reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck.
“Jenna!” She held her arms wide and Jenna bent to step into her embrace. Aunt Edie had always been petite, but it seemed she’d shrunk since Jenna last saw her. She still smelled like White Shoulders, her favorite perfume.
Aunt Edie turned her loose and smiled at Sabrina. “And this must be your lovely daughter. Sabrina, I’m so happy to meet you at last.” She held out her arms, giving Sabrina no polite option but to also accept a hug, which, well-mannered child that she was, she did. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have you both coming here to live with me.”
“We’re not staying for sure,” Sabrina said as she pulled back, and cast a look at her mother that begged her not to make any wild promises.
Aunt Edie’s brows pinched together. “You’re not?”
“Don’t worry, Aunt Edie, we’re here to stay,” Jenna said, and shot Sabrina a warning look. The way her eye was twitching, she hoped Sabrina didn’t think she was winking at her.
The look she received in return spoke volumes about parental betrayal, even though Jenna had not made any promises about returning to Seattle. That option was all in her daughter’s mind.
“Well, come on in. I made oatmeal cookies just this morning, and I’ve got pink lemonade.”
Her aunt’s oatmeal cookies had been a childhood favorite. “Thanks,” Jenna said.
“It’s not a very nice day,” Aunt Edie observed as she led the way into the living room, “which is a shame, because it’s so pretty here when the sun’s shining. June’s a little iffy weather-wise,” she told Sabrina, “but in July it’s heaven.”
Sabrina was polite enough to nod but she didn’t look all that thrilled to see heaven in July.
The living room was almost as badly in need of paint as the outside of the house, but it was cozy, with its furniture arranged for conversation, the old woodstove in the corner ready to take off the chill on a winter’s day. Jenna remembered the braided throw rug on the hardwood floor, and there was the same old brown sofa sleeper bed that cousin Winston had often occupied when there was an overload of girls in the house. One of Aunt Edie’s hand-crocheted afghans was draped over the back of it. She still had the little stuffed chair upholstered with a sand-dollar-print fabric that Jenna had always favored. And there sat Aunt Edie’s antique rocking chair and Uncle Ralph’s old recliner. Seeing the recliner empty put a lump in Jenna’s throat. As they entered the room a parrot with plumage in varying shades of green perched inside a giant cage in the corner fluttered his wings and greeted them. “No solicitors!”
“Now, Roger, behave yourself,” Aunt Edie scolded.
“Roger, behave yourself,” echoed the bird, who’d obviously heard that a few times.
Sabrina walked over to the cage to get a better look and Jenna followed her. The parrot was walking back and forth on his perch now, excited over having an audience.
“Are you a pretty bird?” Jenna asked him.
“Roger’s a pretty bird,” he said. “Give me whiskey,” he added.
That had always made Jenna giggle. In her present mood, Sabrina wasn’t about to even smile. “Weird,” she said.
“Uncle Ralph was a bad influence,” said Aunt Edie. “You girls sit down and make yourselves at home and I’ll fetch the cookies. Would you like milk or lemonade, dear?” she asked Sabrina.
“Milk, please.”
At last her daughter was managing to remain polite. Jenna smiled at her encouragingly. Sabrina didn’t smile back.
“And, Jenna?”
“Cookies and milk sounds great.”
“All right, then.” Aunt Edie nodded and started for the kitchen.
“Do you want some help?” Jenna asked.
“No, no. I can manage,” she said, and disappeared.
“Isn’t she sweet?” Jenna said to her daughter.
Sabrina’s polite mask fell away. “Why did you tell her we’re staying? We’re not for sure staying.”
“Sweetie, we don’t have a house anymore. Remember?”
“You said we didn’t have to stay if I didn’t like it,” Sabrina said, eyes flashing. “You lied to me.”
“No, I didn’t. I said give it a chance.”
“Well, I have.”
“No, you haven’t. We just got here.”
“I don’t want to be here,” Sabrina said, her voice rising.
Aunt Edie picked that moment to return with a tray bearing a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk. Her steps faltered and for a moment Jenna thought she was going to drop everything.
She rushed over to her aunt and took the tray. “Here, let me help you with that.”
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Aunt Edie said, looking flustered. If only she didn’t still have such good hearing.
Sabrina clenched her jaw and plopped onto the sand-dollar chair and Jenna joined Aunt Edie on the couch. Two against one. The atmosphere felt charged as if there was about to be a squall of epic proportions right there in the living room.
Aunt Edie cleared her throat and picked up the plate, offering it to Sabrina. Sabrina shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“We just had ice cream,” Jenna said.
“Oh.”
“But I’d still love a cookie,” Jenna hurried to say. “Your oatmeal cookies are the best.”
That brought out a smile. “You always did like them.”
Jenna helped herself to one and took a bite. Aunt Edie hadn’t lost her touch. “It’s as good as I remember.”
“And you’re just as sweet as I remember.”
Not for the first time, Jenna found herself wishing she’d made the time to come down and see Aunt Edie. If only she’d come to visit when Sabrina was younger maybe her girl would have fallen in love with the place, too. Maybe then she’d have been happy to be there.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here for Uncle Ralph’s funeral,” Jenna said.
“You wrote a lovely note, and you sent those beautiful flowers. Anyway, I know you’ve been busy, dealing with...” She cleared her throat. “Things.”
Like crummy husbands. Jenna nodded and took another bite of cookie and Jolly Roger informed them all that he was a pretty bird. “Give me whiskey. Pretty bird, pretty bird. Roger’s a pretty bird. Ralph? Ralph, where are you?”
Roger was certainly contributing more to the conversation than Sabrina. Jenna sighed inwardly. This house felt like a haven to her, but Sabrina was looking at it like it was prison.
Jenna and her aunt visited a few more minutes, while Sabrina sat in her chair and brooded.
“Maybe you’d like to see your rooms,” Aunt Edie suggested.
“Good idea,” Jenna said. “Want to see your room?” she asked her daughter, keeping her voice gentle and coaxing.
Sabrina bit her lip and nodded. She was close to tears. Now, so was Jenna.
“I have you in the blue room and I thought Sabrina might enjoy being in the doll room,” Aunt Edie said, and started to get up.
“Don’t bother to get up,” Jenna told her. “We can find our way.”
Aunt Edie nodded and subsided back against the couch cushions.
Jenna led the way upstairs, bracing herself for what would come once they were out of earshot.
Sabrina didn’t wait until they were in her room. She started in as soon as they reached the landing. “I don’t see why we have to be here.”
“We have to be here because right now we need to be here. Sweetie, Aunt Edie is letting us stay rent-free. That’s going to really help with the budget and right now I need help with the budget. I’m doing what I think is best for us.” Honestly, how many more times would they have to have this conversation?
“Daddy’s paying child support. We can live on that.”
Child support? With what? “Who told you that?”
Sabrina blinked. “He is, isn’t he?”
Of course he wasn’t. He was still just a child in a big body. Jenna wanted to scream, No, he’s not paying anything. I’m supporting him and his new girlfriend while he pretends to train for life in the real world. I’m carrying the load and he’s sitting around making statues out of old shoes. This was what happened when you didn’t listen to your mother and your grandmother. This was what happened when you fell stupidly, besottedly, in love with an illusion masquerading as a man. Now she had to foot the bill while he supposedly trained for a new job.
She reined in her temper. Hard. “No, he’s not.” The words came out like chipped rock.
“But he said—” Sabrina stopped midsentence, seeing the expression on Jenna’s face.
“What did he say?”
“He said he gave up a lot for us.”
Oh, yes, he’d have been famous by then if it hadn’t been for the burden of caring for a wife and child. Damien Petit, thwarted genius.
“He did,” Jenna said. “And he loves you.” Not as much as he loved himself. There was no one he loved as much as he loved himself.
No, wait. Maybe that wasn’t fair. He loved art. He lived it and breathed it. Damien hadn’t been cut out for a normal life. Maybe this mess was as much Jenna’s fault for not seeing that as it was Damien’s for being who he was.
“You know your dad’s a great artist,” she said. “But he’s not famous yet. And he’s struggling.” How cliché, but it was the best she could do. “Right now, we’re all struggling. But things are going to get better.”
She opened the door to the room that would be her daughter’s. Sabrina looked in and took a step back. “It’s creepy.”
Maybe it was a little if you weren’t into dolls. They were everywhere, crowded into a curio cabinet, lolling on the bed, having a tea party in the window seat. Even the antique dresser hadn’t escaped. A clown doll was making himself at home there. The room housed every imaginable type of doll—baby dolls, porcelain costumed ones, Barbies, even a three-foot-high little girl from the fifties that had fascinated Jenna when she was young. That one was standing in the corner, ready to play.
“Am I supposed to be able to sleep in here?” Sabrina asked, eyeing the collection as if they were all about to come to life. That was what happened when you watched too many horror movies.
“I’ll take this room. You can have the blue room,” Jenna said, and led her to the next room.
It was well named and sweet with its blue walls and the blue bedspread with a seashell pattern stitched into it covering an antique iron double bed that had been painted cream. White sheer curtains at the window framed a mesmerizing view of the Pacific Ocean, its giant swells frothing their way to the beach.
Sabrina walked to the window and looked out silently. No comment on the room or the view.
Jenna came and stood behind her and put her hands on her shoulders.
Sabrina covered her face. “If you’d been nicer to Daddy he’d have stayed and we wouldn’t be here.”
There it was again, the familiar chorus. “Sabrina, sometimes things don’t work out between people and it has nothing to do with anyone being nice.”
“Go away!” Sabrina cried, and began to sob.
Jenna sighed and obliged.
Back in the living room Jolly Roger greeted her. “Give me whiskey, give me whiskey.”
I could use one, too. Did Aunt Edie know how to make mojitos?
This will work, Jenna told herself sternly. Aunt Edie needed her help. Sabrina needed her to be wise and carve out a secure future for her.
And, darn it all, she was going to do both.