The Summer Retreat

by Sheila Roberts

  “You’ll be great,” Aunt Edie said, reading her mind.

  Celeste hugged her. “Go get ’em, sissy!”

  Sabrina hugged her, too. “I’m so proud of you, Mom.”

  How proud would she be if her mother lost the election? Now Jenna was even more nervous.

  “You can do this,” Brody said as he escorted her to the long table at the front of the room with three microphones sitting on it. Susan and Kiki were both already seated, Kiki smiling out at the crowd and Susan going over her notes.

  She looked up as Kiki greeted Jenna. “You’re almost late.”

  “I guess that means I’m on time,” Jenna said, refusing to be intimidated.

  “Political smack talk,” Kiki said with a smile as Jenna sat down next to her.

  Jenna couldn’t do much more than nod and fumble her notes out of her folder.

  Aaron Baumgarten from The Beach Times was going to be their moderator, and he was getting set up at a podium nearby.

  Jenna’s stomach did a nervous flip. What was she doing here?

  Making a difference, she told herself and made an effort to sit up straight and look unafraid.

  The whole unafraid thing lasted for all of five minutes. Aaron began to introduce the candidates and the fear came back, bigger than ever. Especially when she heard the other two candidates’ credentials mentioned. Both women had, at one point, served on council. Both had owned businesses in town for years.

  “And we have Jenna Jones, who runs the Driftwood Inn,” Aaron concluded.

  That was it. No previous experience in city government. Not even a longtime resident. She forced herself to remain upright but inwardly she was slumping, wishing she could slink away.

  “The first question for our candidates,” said Aaron, “is what do you offer to the community and what can you bring to the office of councilperson? We’ll start with Jenna Jones.”

  I don’t want to go first! Jenna cleared her throat. Remember your talking points. “I bring new ideas and a fresh perspective.” There. Succinct and to the point, just like she and Brody had discussed.

  “Thank you,” Aaron said. “And next, we’ll hear from Susan Frank.”

  Susan didn’t bother to clear her throat. She launched right in. “I bring experience and common sense. New ideas, of course, are always welcome.”

  Oh, yeah, I’ve seen how welcoming you are, Jenna sneered inwardly.

  “But they have to be balanced with common sense. Not all new ideas are practical and Moonlight Harbor needs people in leadership who understand the difference.”

  Boy, if that wasn’t a slam on Jenna’s Seaside with Santa disaster, she didn’t know what was. She ground her teeth.

  “And Kiki Strom, what do you bring?” Aaron asked.

  “I think I bring both new ideas and common sense,” Kiki said easily. “I’m sure you’ve all been inside a certain big fish here in town,” she continued, getting some chuckles and smiles from the audience, “so you know I’m an idea person. But I have some experience under my belt and I can also be practical.”

  Well said. Why hadn’t Jenna thought to mention that she, too, could be practical?

  “All right,” Aaron said. “Here’s our next question. What changes would you like to see taking place in Moonlight Harbor and how would you implement them? Kiki?”

  “I would like to see more tourist dollars come to town. To that end, I’ll work to make sure word gets out about us up and down the I-5 corridor. We have so much to offer. We simply need to market ourselves better.”

  Jenna’s thoughts exactly. Too bad she hadn’t been able to go first on that question.

  “And Susan?” Aaron asked.

  “Of course, Kiki’s right. We also have to get control of our deer population. We need to pass an ordinance prohibiting people from feeding them apples, which is, by the way, not good for them.”

  The town was divided on what to do about the exploding deer population. All the gardeners would have loved nothing better than to see them all magically vanish, while the animal lovers adored watching them stroll across their lawns. The tourists loved them, too, and often stopped their cars in the middle of the road for a picture. Taking a stand on whittling down the population would be popular with some but not with others. Bold move, Susan.

  “And Jenna,” said Aaron.

  “I agree that we need to attract more visitors to Moonlight Harbor. This is a charming town, and more tourist dollars can only boost our economy.”

  “And do you have an idea for how to make that happen?” Aaron prompted.

  Oh, yeah, that. “Uh, yes. I think we should seriously consider building a convention hall in town.”

  “That will raise taxes,” Susan argued.

  “Yes, but it will benefit us in the long run,” Jenna argued back.

  “This is a good example of the type of ideas that come from someone with no experience and no understanding of what’s practical,” Susan said.

  “A convention hall would be very practical,” Jenna insisted. What kind of debate was this anyway? They were supposed to be taking turns, not interrupting each other.

  “That’s an example of what’ll happen if you elect her, people,” Susan informed the crowd. “Convention halls cost money and we all know who will get the bill.”

  “And who will prosper in the end,” Jenna said hotly. “All of us.”

  “Okay, ladies, we’re going to move on,” Aaron said, finally getting a word in.

  The debate continued, but Jenna struggled for the rest of it, feeling she’d lost her edge.

  It came time for the final question, and Aaron asked each candidate to share why she’d decided to run for the position on city council. “We’ll start with Jenna Jones.”

  Because nobody wanted Susan and I was an idiot. Jenna cleared her throat again. “I’ve been coming to Moonlight Harbor ever since I was a child. Many of you know my aunt, Edie Patterson, who was one of the first business owners here.” Jenna Jones, endorsed by Edie Patterson. “I decided to run because, like all of you, I’m invested in this town and its future, and I want what’s best for it.” There. Top that, Susan Frank.

  “I, too, love Moonlight Harbor,” Susan professed. “I want what’s best for this town and I think I’m the logical choice. We need rational heads at the helm and I can provide that.”

  Rational heads. More like hardheads. Still, it was a good sound bite. Why hadn’t Jenna thought to say something like it?

  Kiki was last to speak. “I love Moonlight Harbor, also. How can you not? And I love its people. We have a great history and I believe we have a great future. I think I bring a rational mind to the table, as well as experience. Vote for me. I won’t let you down.”

  There it was, the perfect combination, wisdom and heart. With that one closing remark Kiki had just won the debate, hands down.

  Kiki was well-liked and hardworking. Jenna had become enamored with the idea of getting on city council, rolling up her sleeves and making things happen. But Kiki could also do a lot of good. At this point, if Jenna stayed in she’d only take votes away from her friend and Susan could win by default.

  That would not be good for Moonlight Harbor. Two days later Jenna did what she knew she should have done the minute Kiki announced that she was standing for election. She withdrew from the competition.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” her sister protested.

  “I think it’s best for the town,” Jenna said simply. And wanting what was best for the town—wasn’t that why she’d decided to run in the first place? “Kiki will be great.” And boy, did Jenna hope she won.

  Come election night, she and her team, minus Sabrina, who’d lost all interest after her mother pulled out of the running, sat in Aunt Edie’s living room, monitoring the results on the local TV station. It looked like Kiki was, indeed, goi
ng to win.

  “Well, that’s something,” Aunt Edie said and headed off to bed.

  “It all worked out the way it was supposed to,” Jenna told the others when the winner was finally announced.

  “Consider this a temporary reprieve,” Brody told her. “We’ve still got some turkeys on council who need to go. You can run again.”

  “Oh, no. Once was enough. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to make everyone give up so much time and money again,” Jenna said. She pointed to Brody. “Next time you run for city council and I’ll doorbell for you.”

  “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Nice try, but you don’t get off the hook that easily. All in favor of making Jenna run in the next city council election, say aye.”

  “Aye,” everyone chorused.

  “I need the deductions,” Ellis added.

  “There you have it,” Brody said.

  “We’ll see,” she said. “Meanwhile, let’s call the winner and congratulate her. When she answers, everyone yell ‘congratulations.’” She dialed Kiki’s number and put the phone on speaker.

  Kiki answered on the second ring and everyone did as instructed, Jenna shouting the loudest.

  “That’s so sweet of you all,” Kiki gushed. “Jenna, I hope you’re really okay with how things turned out.”

  “I absolutely am. I stand by what I told you. You’re going to do a wonderful job of watching out for us all.”

  “You know, if I hadn’t had people fretting that someone else would win, I’d never have stepped in.”

  “I get it,” Jenna said. “I’m a newcomer and I realize a lot of people felt I wasn’t that well-known.”

  “You got out a lot and stumped, though,” Kiki said. “There’ll be a slot opening for the next election. You run and join me on the council and we’ll do great things together.”

  Brody leaned over Jenna’s shoulder and said into the phone, “She will,” and Jenna smiled and shook her head at him.

  * * *

  “Just between you and me, are you disappointed?” Celeste asked after the party had broken up and they were getting ready for bed. Her sister had worked so hard and all for nothing.

  Jenna shrugged. “Maybe a little. I do have ideas about what we could do for this town.”

  “Then you should run again.”

  “I have to admit, I’d like to get out there and do something important.”

  That was Jenna. Never thinking she was doing enough.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re raising a great daughter, running your massage business, looking out for Aunt Edie and keeping the Driftwood going,” Celeste said, ticking off the list of accomplishments. “You’re my superhero. If I can make half the success of my life that you’re making of yours I’ll be happy.”

  “You will,” Jenna said and hugged her. “You’re well on your way.”

  Yes, she was.

  * * *

  Celeste had tried to talk Paul into taking dance lessons with her but failed, even after reminding him that they’d be doing the traditional bride and groom dance at the reception. “I’m not that into dancing,” he’d admitted. She gave up. Most guys weren’t into dancing. There were plenty of other fun things to do in life.

  They’d nailed down the local Elks hall, which was available for parties, for the reception. Not the elegant reception hall she’d always envisioned, but her mom and Jenna had promised they’d make it look spectacular. Sabrina, who had been mooning around since Tristan left, was commissioned to search for decorating ideas online and she’d been happily researching fall themes.

  “It’s going to be great,” Jenna said for the hundredth time as they drove to The Drunken Sailor, the only place where Celeste was getting to do any dancing. “And we’ll all look great in those chocolate-brown dresses. A good color pick.”

  Chocolate-brown and rust, a color combination Celeste had decided she could live with.

  “Yeah, it is,” Celeste said, and tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

  “How about a little excitement here.”

  “I am excited. I love my dress, the cake will be gorgeous and I’m happy we’re doing a cookie bar, too. I just wish we weren’t having the party at the Elks.” And that I was getting married at the beach and that I liked my mother-in-law’s gown. And that... She didn’t go any further. She was afraid to.

  “It’ll be fine,” Jenna assured her. “You’ve got pre-wedding jitters is all.”

  Yes, that was it. Which was stupid, really, considering whom she was marrying.

  The minute they were in the door, she ordered a wine cooler. Then kept Brody company at the bar, drinking it and then a second one, as well.

  “Hey, go easy,” he cautioned. “You’re gonna fall on your ass when you try to dance.”

  “Maybe I won’t dance,” she muttered. “What’s the point? Paul doesn’t like dancing. I’ll never dance again after I’m married.”

  “Sure you will,” he said.

  “Can you see him here?”

  “Well, no. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come. Sister time and all that.”

  “True,” she said, and took a long draw on her wine cooler. “But you’re supposed to do stuff with your husband when you’re married.”

  “Don’t you guys already do stuff together?”

  “Of course we do.” They took walks on the beach, went out to eat, played games with her family, watched baseball on TV. She’d get into baseball. Eventually. There would be church events to plan, family to hang out with and then kids to raise. They were going to have a wonderful life.

  “Then don’t worry if there are some things you don’t do together,” Brody advised. “You’re still a person in your own right after you get married, Celeste.”

  Maybe that was what had been bothering her. Maybe, deep down, she was wondering if she would be.

  But Brody was right. She knew that.

  “How come you’re not out there dancing?” Victor King asked her when the dancers took a break and came to the bar for drinks.

  She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.”

  He looked surprised. “Since when?”

  Since I got engaged.

  Celeste ordered another wine cooler, and later that night, after she and Jenna got home, she ate half a bag of Dove chocolates.

  * * *

  Cold feet, that was all it had been. Not even that, just nippy toes, a condition brought on by the wedding gown affair. Now that things were all resolved and Celeste had her wedding gown and the date was growing near, she was excited about becoming Mrs. Paul Welch. Their November wedding date was fast approaching and, as far as she was concerned, it couldn’t come soon enough.

  Julia had finally given her the sizes for her flower girl and ring bearer, and her bridesmaids, Vanita and Sabrina, and Jenna, her matron of honor, had their dresses and shoes. All that was missing from the wedding picture was the groom’s family.

  They flew in the week before the big event, in time to offer hugs and congratulations and to sample Celeste’s cooking, which her father-in-law-to-be praised highly. “Those cookies were really good,” he told her, then said to his wife, “You should get the recipe.”

  They had rum in them. Would Saint Angela approve? Stop it! You have to stop calling her that. Celeste doubted it. Angela had already told her she and her husband didn’t drink and that she hoped Celeste and Paul wouldn’t be serving alcohol at the wedding.

  “We’ll have a nonalcoholic punch,” Celeste had said. “And just champagne for the toast.” And if Saint... Angela didn’t like that, she could toast the happy couple with punch.

  “I see,” Angela had said in a tone that implied she’d rather not know.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Paul told Celeste. “No one’s going to be bothered if we have champagne for a wedding toast. If my mom gives yo
u any more grief, remind her that Jesus’s first miracle was turning water into wine at a wedding.”

  At least there was no alcohol served at the bridal shower, which took place on the Sunday afternoon before the wedding. The same woman who’d hosted the Fourth of July party opened her home for the shower, and even her big house had trouble accommodating all the guests. Everyone loved Pastor Paul and had turned out to support his bride-to-be.

  Celeste was nearly overwhelmed at the turnout and had to dab her teary eyes. Even Hyacinth, who had to be a masochist, was there and trying to smile.

  “Thank you all so much for coming,” she said. “It means a lot.” And it did. These people were going to be an integral part of her life soon. She’d wanted to belong and seeing so many smiling faces encouraged her to believe that she could, indeed, fit in. It also went a long way toward warming up her nippy toes.

  “Of course,” said her hostess. “We all love Paul.”

  And we love you. That was implied—wasn’t it?

  In addition to the church women, Paul and Celeste’s families were present and so was Vanita, who had come down specially for the occasion. It took an hour to open all the gifts, which ranged from Crock-Pots to gardening tools and paper products.

  Her mother gave her a selection of spices along with a cookbook and a Safeway gift card, and Aunt Edie had put together a recipe box filled with all her specialties. “Now you’ll be able to make all kinds of tasty dishes for your husband,” Aunt Edie told her.

  “She needs all the help she can get in that department,” Jenna teased.

  Her future mother-in-law and Julia, her future sister-in-law, gave her a gift card and a framed picture of Paul. “Every woman should have a picture of her husband on her nightstand,” Angela told her.

  “Here are some other things every woman should have,” Vanita said with a wink as she handed over a giant gift bag.

  The bag was filled with thongs and lacy bras in Celeste’s size and a filmy black nightgown that brought some jealous oohs from the younger women. It also had some sex toys that Celeste decided not to put on display.