The Summer Retreat

by Sheila Roberts

  Jenna didn’t say anything as they made their way to Brody’s car, but Celeste knew she would the minute they were in the house.

  Sure enough, she began as soon as she’d shut the front door. “Look, I know you have to make your own choices, but I thought you and Paul were an item.”

  “We are,” Celeste insisted.

  “Then what were you thinking back there?” Jenna scolded.

  “I wasn’t thinking.” That was for sure. “I was just dancing.”

  “Just dancing? You looked ready to peel your clothes off.”

  “Honey,” their mom added, “if Paul’s the one for you, you can’t be dancing like that with other men.”

  “Dancing? That wasn’t dancing, that was foreplay,” Jenna snapped.

  Yes, it was. But instead of making her feel penitent, her sister’s words turned Celeste defensive. “Since when is that any of your business?” she demanded. “I can dance with whoever I want. I’m not married. I’m not even engaged.”

  “At the rate you’re going you won’t be,” Jenna retorted. “You’d better hope nobody tells Paul about this. He’ll dump you in a heartbeat.”

  “He doesn’t own me yet.” Own her? Where had that come from?

  “Girls,” Mel said, stepping into the fray, “let’s calm down. Things will work out with the man they’re meant to work out with.”

  So there. Celeste almost stuck her tongue out at her big sister.

  Until her mother looked at her sternly and added, “But meanwhile, don’t go rushing into anything with that man. That will only confuse you further.”

  It didn’t seem she could get any more confused than she already was. She stamped upstairs to bed as irritated with herself as she was with her sister.

  “I’ll clean his room from now on,” Jenna called up after her.

  “Fine,” she hollered back. “You can clean all the rooms.”

  By Sunday morning Celeste’s brain had decided to function again. She apologized to her sister, sent her mother home with promises that she was going to be wise, then rented kayaks and took Paul kayaking out in the bay after church. The water was sparkling and the sun was out. The gulls were wheeling on the breeze, calling to them. Across the bay they could see Westhaven, catch a glimpse of a boat or two headed for open water to fish. It felt so...companionable.

  After they returned the kayaks, she brought him back to the house to have dinner with the family. Tristan was present, too, and they all settled in to watch a vintage movie with Aunt Edie.

  Paul said nothing to indicate that anyone had gossiped about her dancing with Henry after he’d left the night before, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief. By the time he’d kissed her good-night and gone home, she’d gotten her world back on its axis and all was well.

  She assured her sister that she had her head on straight again and that she’d be fine cleaning Henry’s room. But in spite of her assurances, she was very aware of her heart trampolining around in her chest as she parked her supply cart outside room twelve the next morning. The day before he’d hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. She wished it was still there.

  She knocked on the door. “Housekeeping.”

  No answer. Good.

  She went inside to find both Henry and his laptop missing. He’d gone somewhere else to write. That saved her from an awkward scene or, even worse, having the bees start buzzing again. The bees would wait. There’d be plenty of buzzing once she got together with Paul.

  She couldn’t help wondering why he wanted her when they were so different. He was more serious. She was more fun-loving, a little more out there. Okay, a lot more out there. Who would have thought they’d get together?

  But what was it people always said? Opposites attract. They had definitely attracted and she shouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth, whatever that meant, but simply take what she’d been given—and be grateful for it. They would each bring something unique to the relationship, one complementing the other. They’d be happy together.

  * * *

  Henry camped out in Books and Beans most of the day, writing and drinking enough coffee to keep himself awake for the next forty-eight hours. He half wished he’d stayed in his room, confronted Celeste or at least given her another love scene to read. These days he was much more interested in writing those than in putting his killer to work. In fact, it seemed that sex was all he could think about. Sex with Celeste. He could have seduced her. If her family hadn’t come along when they did, the two of them would have wound up in his room, and they wouldn’t have been reading.

  Oh, yeah, Don Juan him. He picked up his coffee mug. Empty. Just the way he felt. What was with him, anyway? He could plot an entire book, dream up a clever way to catch a killer, but he couldn’t figure out how to get the woman he wanted.

  He’d waited long enough. It was time. She must die.

  Henry frowned at the screen and shut his laptop. Okay, that was plenty for today. What was Celeste doing? Probably something with the preacher. Maybe giving him a dance lesson.

  Dancing, don’t think about that. If he shut his eyes he could still see her face, feel that soft little bottom under his hand, could still hear her laugh when he spun her out, see the sparkle in her eyes.

  What a fool he was. He’d gone and fallen in love again. With another woman who, in the end, didn’t want him. Once more he didn’t measure up.

  * * *

  “I wish you didn’t have to go back to Seattle,” Paul said as he and Celeste sat side by side on a log, watching the sunset turn the sky orange.

  “I do have a job,” she said.

  “What if something else came up? Here?”

  She turned to him. “Like what?”

  “Like someone asking you to stay. Could you see yourself living in Moonlight Harbor?”

  With Paul. “Maybe. Do you want me to stay?”

  “Desperately,” he said. He touched a hand to her cheek and looked into her eyes. It wasn’t a look that said, “Let’s get naked, babe.” No, this was a look that said, “Let’s take this to the next level and really get serious,” and she loved him for it.

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Now, that was the kiss she’d been waiting for. It promised passion and happily-ever-after and everything she wanted.

  “I’m in love with you, Celeste,” he said after he ended the kiss. “I want something lasting. I’m hoping you feel the same way.”

  “How could I not?” she replied and kissed him again.

  “Will you stay?”

  “Yes, if you want me to.”

  And so it was settled. He didn’t come right out and propose but she knew a proposal was just around the corner. Some people would tell her she was crazy to quit her job when she didn’t even have a ring on her finger, but she knew that was coming, too. She could find work in Moonlight Harbor as a substitute teacher and keep helping Jenna at the motel. Yes, everything was working out. Finally. She was smiling when they finally walked back to the house, hand in hand.

  “I’m staying,” she told her sister gleefully after she’d said goodbye to him. “I’m quitting my job and staying.”

  “Did he propose already?” Jenna asked eagerly.

  “No, but he will. He said he’s in love with me and asked me to stay.”

  Jenna hugged her. “I’m so happy for you. You’ve finally found the man who’s right for you.”

  Yes, she had.

  It wasn’t until late that night as she lay in bed and listened to the sound of the waves hitting the beach that she realized Paul had told her he loved her, but she hadn’t actually said “I love you” back to him.

  Well, she would, because she did.

  But if she loved Paul, what was Henry doing in her dreams all of a sudden, dancing with her at some laser-lit dance club?

  “Come on over to my place,
” he said. “I have something special for you.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yes. You’re going to love it.”

  He led her outside the club and she realized they were in Vegas. “What are we doing here?” she asked, gazing around.

  “We got married here,” he informed her. “Now it’s time for our wedding night.”

  His car looked like the Batmobile. She got in and music started playing—“Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera. She began to feel a little creeped out.

  She was even more creeped out when they arrived at their honeymoon destination. The sign said The Driftwood Inn, but it looked like The Bates Motel, complete with the looming dark Victorian behind it.

  “Let’s go get something to eat,” she said, not wanting to go in.

  “What we’ll get here is better than anything you’ll find in a restaurant,” he said and smiled at her. Maniacally.

  Wake up. Time to wake up!

  He got out of the car, came around and opened her door. “Come on. You’re going to love what I’ve got waiting for you.”

  “Is it chocolate?”

  “Better.” He took her by the hand. She tried to draw back, but he was too strong, and next thing she knew he was pulling her to their room. He unlocked the door and swung it wide. “After you.”

  She looked in. The room had a bed, a nightstand and a single lamp with a frayed shade. It had something else, too. A big, body-size sheet of plastic on the floor. Her eyes shot back to the bed, where a huge hunting knife lay, along with a pair of rubber gloves.

  “Oh, no!” she cried.

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “She must die.” Suddenly, he’d lost his glasses and he looked like Paul.

  Aaaaack!

  Celeste woke with a gurgle, her heart beating as fast as it could. She told it to settle down. She was safe in Aunt Edie’s house, her sister next to her in the bed, sound asleep. Only a dream. You’re all right.

  But she didn’t feel all right. Why had Henry morphed into Paul?

  Unsettled and with no desire to go back to sleep, she got out of bed. The room was still dark. She checked the time on Jenna’s bedside clock. 5:00 a.m.

  She went downstairs and made herself a mug of coffee. Drank it. Okay. Five-thirty. It was still ridiculously early, but she didn’t want to wait any longer.

  Paul’s phone went straight to voice mail. Of course he was still asleep, enjoying the sleep of the righteous.

  “Hi, it’s me,” she said. “I know you aren’t up yet, but I just wanted to call and tell you I love you.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out again. There. She’d said it. Paul was the man for her. And now all would be well.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Celeste resigned from her teaching job and gave up her apartment. “We’re sure going to miss you,” her principal said when she came back to clean out her classroom.

  She was going to miss the school, too, and all the kids. But there were kids in Moonlight Harbor and, much as she loved where she’d been, she knew she’d love where she was going even more.

  So when another text from Emerson showed up on her phone, she could read it with nothing more than a shake of her head over how stupid she’d been. There was no ache, no yearning, no anger. He didn’t matter anymore, not even enough to hate.

  Gonna be in your town this weekend. Can we meet?

  It had been a while since he’d contacted her.

  Between women again? she texted. Sorry. No, wait. She wasn’t remotely sorry. She erased the words and simply texted, Can’t. I’m with someone now.

  Someone who was a million times better than he could ever hope to be.

  Is it serious?

  Yup.

  You sure?

  Yup. Bye.

  She ended the conversation and blocked him, something she should have done ages ago. You are past history now.

  And she was all about the future.

  She stored a lot of things at her mom’s, but still came back with her Prius loaded with dishes, clothes and crafting supplies. This was it. New life, new beginning. Finally, everything was working out.

  She got back in time to help Jenna with the final plans for Aunt Edie’s birthday party. “I’d love to have surprised her,” Jenna had said, “but I thought it might be too much. I don’t want to give her a heart attack.”

  Heart attack...death... She must die. How was Henry’s book coming along? Oh, honestly, who’d invited thoughts of him into this conversation?

  “Can you order the cake?”

  Cake, yes, a much better thing to think about. “Sure,” said Celeste. “What are we going to give her for her birthday?”

  “She says she has everything and doesn’t want any presents.”

  “You can’t have a birthday and not have presents. How about some scented soap and perfume? A woman’s never too old for that.”

  “Good idea,” said Jenna. “Want to pick some up when you’re out?”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I finish cleaning rooms. Bet you’re glad to have your maid back,” she teased.

  “I am. Although the rooms are probably a lot cleaner since I’ve been doing them.” She sobered. “Seriously, I really appreciate how you’ve pitched in. It’s saved me a bundle.”

  “No problem. You can thank me by giving me an expensive wedding present.”

  “How about a honeymoon in Hawaii?”

  “Sure, and pay for the airfare, too,” Celeste joked as she left to do room patrol.

  “I’ll get right on it,” Jenna cracked.

  Henry was in his room, working. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the street dance and felt awkward as she entered.

  He was obviously determined not to look at her, keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop screen. “The bed doesn’t need changing,” he said shortly.

  “Fine with me.” She went into the bathroom and got busy scrubbing the toilet. She straightened to find him standing in the doorway.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked. “Your sister just said you were away for a while.”

  “Packing up my stuff. I’m relocating to Moonlight Harbor.”

  For a moment his face lit up, then a frown descended. “I guess you’re really getting serious with the preacher.”

  “I guess so,” she said lightly.

  He caught her arm. “Don’t do it, Celeste. You’ll be making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “Are you nuts?” she said, shaking off his hand.

  “No, you are. You aren’t a match with this guy. He’s not what you need.”

  “He’s exactly what I need.”

  “Oh, yeah? How do you know?”

  “I just know, so stop it, Henry. Stop trying to confuse me.”

  “If you were sure, you wouldn’t be confused. Come on, Celeste, he’s not the right man for you.”

  “There is no right man!” she cried. How many “right” guys had she dated over the past few years? “There are only smart choices and stupid choices, and I’m done being stupid.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re up to your chin in stupid. Climb out before it’s too late.” His voice softened. “Let me pull you out.”

  Before she could say anything more he pulled her, all right—up against him. He threaded his hands through her hair and kissed her, making her drop her scrub brush. Henry Gilbert sure could kiss.

  No, no, no! She unlocked their lips and pushed him away. “Stop it, Henry!”

  He glared at her. “You’re an idiot.”

  She glared back. “Paul would never say something like that to me.”

  “That’s because Paul’s a wuss. And you’re a fool.”

  She grabbed her scrub brush and pointed it at him. “And you’re a jerk.”

  He leaned in the doorway. “Not a ve
ry creative epithet, Happy Clam Girl. You can do better than that.”

  She was going to ram a toilet plunger down his throat if she stayed a minute longer. “You know what? From now on you can clean your own toilet,” she snapped. “And while you’re at it, drown yourself.”

  “Not bad,” he called after her as she stormed out of the room. “But you could still do better.”

  She had done better. She was so glad she’d chosen Paul.

  * * *

  “Your lady’s gonna love this,” the jeweler said to Paul as he handed over the black velvet ring box.

  “I think so,” Paul agreed. He could hardly wait to give it to her. He’d considered all kinds of scenarios and finally settled on having the big reveal at her great-aunt’s birthday party. Celeste loved parties and they’d be with family, which would make the moment extra special. But he wanted to be creative in how he did it. At last he’d hit on a plan.

  “I’ll bring the marshmallows for s’mores,” he told Celeste as she was finalizing details the Friday before the big day.

  “Cake and s’mores. What more do we need?” she quipped.

  “Oh, I might be able to think of something,” he said, enjoying his own private joke.

  He arrived at the party with his bag of marshmallows and his present for the guest of honor promptly at five to find that Jenna’s handyman, Seth, already had a fire going. The family and several guests stood around it, wearing sweaters and windbreakers over their jeans in readiness for when the sun waned and the temperature dropped. Everyone was drinking beer, wine coolers or soda pop. Someone had placed a couple of boards between two logs, making a sort of table, and a bakery box containing Edie Patterson’s birthday cake sat on it, along with packages of hot dog buns, condiments, a pot of baked beans, paper plates and plastic utensils. The cooler sitting nearby most likely held hot dogs.

  Celeste was looking beautiful in a pink sweater, short-cropped jeans and flip-flops that showed off pink toenails and an ankle bracelet. She took a drink from her wine cooler and laughed at something Brody Green said to her, giving him a playful swat on the arm.

  Celeste Jones was a man magnet. If Paul hadn’t known that Jenna and Brody were seeing each other, he’d have been a little jealous. Pretty women attracted attention; there was no getting around it. And Celeste wasn’t really flirting. She was simply being friendly. She was friendly with everyone.