“Custody?”
“Eva’s father. You know, do you have to stay in Arizona?”
Maggie unplugged the flat iron, pretending to be distracted. She didn’t care to speak about Mick to anyone. He’d lied to her recently when she had given him credit for the financial help she thought he was giving her. As it turned out, Jake had been the one secretly depositing money into her bank account …
The last brawl she had with her ex-husband was too raw, too biting. She’d not ever shared it with anyone, and if she could manage to keep her mouth shut the next few weeks, she never would.
Slowly, she said, “Something like that. But really, Eva’s friends are there, and it’s the only home town she’s ever known.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. She seems to have taken to Colibri really well if you ask me. I know you guys were only around in the summers—”
“And sometimes during the year, when work was slow for my dad.” Maggie didn’t mention to Lea all of it—that they had lost their family home in a fire. The beach house had become all the more important to her parents after that tragedy. Unfortunately, her father could never quite dig up enough work here for them to put down deep roots. So they had become nomads of sorts.
Lea nodded her head. “That’s right. I think I remember seeing you other times of the year, too. All I meant was that, well, kids are so adaptable, you know? And Eva looks right at home here. So, if you ever change your mind about moving here for good, I’d love to be her auntie.”
Maggie was still thinking about her conversation with Lea as she cleaned up the bathroom-turned-salon and waited for Eva to arrive home. She grabbed a paint brush and began touching up an area around the new bathtub that she had missed. Her new-old friend was right—Eva did seem fairly happy here. And why not? No school, a big old beach out there, and nothing but time to spend. Maybe it was Maggie who couldn’t see herself living here, the heap of memories too high to conquer.
When her phone rang, she snatched it up, concerned about the time. “Hello?”
“Maggie?” Luke’s voice greeted her, mingled with the high-pitched laughter of girls talking over each other. “So, remember the ice cream place up the block from my shop? The one that’s only open in summer?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t thought of that place in years.
“We’re on our way there now to celebrate the end of surf camp for the day.” The girls squealed louder and Luke raised his voice. “Join us?”
“Yeah, Mom!” Eva called out. “Come with us!”
Maggie frowned. He was supposed to drop her off after camp, not take any detours. What if she didn’t want Eva to have ice cream before lunch? Then again, she knew how persuasive little girls could be. She pictured the impish pout Eva had mastered and suspected that Siena had dropped her own version of one on Luke.
“So you’ll join us?” Luke said, cutting back into her thoughts.
She wavered, not sure about indulging in time with Luke and his … daughter. What would CeCe have to say about that? She shuddered at the thought of running into Luke’s wife. Then again, he’d said something cryptic about her. Would Maggie’s presence make things worse?
And let’s be real, there was another pressing reason not to go to the ice cream parlor—all the fat that would go right to Maggie’s hips.
Then again, how often does a young daughter want to spend time in public with her mother? And exactly how many more years would that last?
“Okay. Sure. I’ll meet you there.”
Maggie would never forget the smell of old sugar in the creamery. How could she? It was one of the first places she and her siblings would run to after they’d rolled into Colibri Beach. Well, after they’d emptied their suitcases and put away their clothes neatly. “First things first,” their mother always admonished when they’d first walk into the beach house.
Maggie entered the creamery to an onslaught of familiar aromas, and two steps in, her flip-flops were already sticking to the floor. Another memory. Fortunately, the shop shined everywhere else with its seasonal coat of fresh white paint on the walls and gleaming lights over the single case of ice cream flavors, and for a quick second, the lack of change calmed Maggie’s nerves.
Eva waved at her from a twisted iron-backed chair across the shop. Luke sat across from her, and the girl standing next to him with an arm propped on his shoulder, she guessed, was Siena. She froze. Though older than Eva, Sienna was a wisp of girl who appeared much younger than her age. Her yellow-blonde hair was held back by a headband, and if Maggie had not known her mother’s identity already, she would have been able to guess.
Siena looked like a miniature version of CeCe.
Luke craned a look toward the door and flashed her a smile.
Maggie sucked in a breath and approached the group. “I thought you were all coming here for ice cream.”
“We are!” Siena said.
Luke’s expression had sobered. He put his hand on his daughter’s back. “Siena, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Eva’s mother, Maggie.”
Siena waved. “Hi.”
Eva cut in. “Can we get ice cream now?”
Luke tilted his head. “I told them we had to wait for you.”
Maggie smiled at Siena, who seemed genuinely smitten with her father. “It is nice to meet you, Siena.” She turned to Eva. “Be patient, you.”
Eva and Siena took off to the ice cream case and Luke stood. He gestured to his own nose. “You, uh, you have paint on your, uh …”
Maggie ran her fingers over her nose and peeled paint right off of it. “Oops. Sorry. After Lea left, I decided to do some touch-up. That’s what I was doing when you called.”
He grinned. “So you’ve been busy all morning. Sounds like you needed this break.”
Maggie felt her countenance cloud. For a quick second, everything about this moment felt normal. Just a couple of friends and their kids grabbing an ice cream cone. And in some ways, the last ten years had spun by like a blur. She wanted to harness all the good times, such as watching her sweet daughter grow up spunky and kind, but the angst of lost love and financial and career hardships was something she wanted to bury deep in the sand.
“Mom, can I have two scoops?”
Maggie rolled her eyes and followed Luke over to the case. Siena had already been served up a fat scoop of something pink and unappetizing-looking. Maggie put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Just one’ll do.”
Eva scrunched her nose and looked to the girl behind the case wearing a hat and holding an ice cream scoop. “I’ll have pistachio.”
“Good choice,” Luke said.
He gestured to Maggie to order, but she shook her head. “No, thanks.” She had cringed when passing the bakery on the way over here and realized she’d already been in that pink creampuff of a place twice this week.
Luke frowned playfully, but shrugged and looked to the server. “Okay, then, make that two scoops of pistachio.”
Eva gasped a little and Luke laughed. “I meant one for her and one for me.”
Maggie’s gaze caught on a lone gallon of frozen yogurt. She gestured toward it. “That any good?”
The server turned up both palms, including the one holding an ice cream scoop. “Moms like it, so I guess so.”
She bit her lip, resigned. “Okay. I’ll have a scoop of that, but in a cup.”
When she went for her purse, Luke held up a hand. “I’ve got this.”
Maggie shook her head. “No, that’s—”
Luke whipped out a bill and handed it to the waiting cashier. He dipped a look at Maggie. “I invited you. Remember?”
She let her purse swing out of her hand and took the cup from the young woman who had served them. Luke leaned toward her as they walked back to the table. “They’re best friends already.”
Maggie froze. The two girls sat, their heads tilted toward each other as they simultaneously ate their ice creams and talked about who-knew-what … like sisters. Uneas
e slithered through Maggie.
Luke stepped in front of her, his back to the girls. He spoke quietly. “You okay?”
She snapped a look at him, a sudden memory showering down on her like ice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Luke’s expression sobered. He took a bite of his ice cream, watching her.
Maggie huffed out a sigh and let her gaze wander across the shop where kids huddled together around summer’s favorite pastime. Why couldn’t she just relax and let the moment be? So what if she and Eva would be leaving soon? Maggie and her siblings had done this very thing for years—visit Colibri for a brief time—and it hadn’t scarred them for life or anything.
Of course, she had never made a bestie in her mother’s ex-boyfriend’s daughter, the one whose existence precipitated their breakup.
Even to her, that was a mouthful.
Maggie rolled a look up at Luke who ate his ice cream in stoney silence. Quietly, she asked, “How does CeCe feel about me being here?”
“She wouldn’t care, Maggie.”
“What do you mean? Doesn’t she know? Because I don’t feel right hanging out with a married man—”
“I’m not married.”
Maggie searched his face. She saw no hurt there, but instead, a kind of steely resolve. “I-I didn’t know.” She looked down into her cup. “How long have you been divorced?”
“I’m not.”
She snapped a look up, her voice quieter still. “You mean, CeCe, um—”
“She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Something harsh flared in Luke’s expression. As quick as it appeared, it left him and she knew this was something he didn’t care to talk about. But she pressed on. “Then why do you say you aren’t married?”
“Because CeCe left us a long time ago.”
“Oh. So, she’s gone? How-how does that work for Siena?”
His voice quieted more. “CeCe is an addict, Mags.”
Maggie covered her mouth with her hand.
“The divorce is just a formality. I’ve been pursuing it, but she hasn’t been much help.”
Maggie nodded, a million questions in her head, most that she would never ask. Finally, though, she asked, “Does Siena live with you full-time?”
Instead of an edge, a downcast look rolled through Luke’s features. “Yes, she does.”
Maggie stole a look at the girl with the flyaway hair who looked just like her mother. Without all the Mean Girls-type drama, that is. She lifted her gaze back to Luke. “We should probably talk sometime when it’s less … public.”
He licked the pistachio ice cream from his lips. “I think I can handle that.”
“Good.”
Luke flashed a sad little smile then and led them both to the table. The girls were in full chatter mode, like sisters. Maggie nearly felt short of breath.
“Hey, Mom? Why didn’t the beagle want to go to the beach?”
Maggie scrunched her mouth, her mind struggling to move from heavy thoughts to those that were far lighter. But she tried. “Hmm. It wanted to stay home and sleep?”
“No. It didn’t want to be a hot dog.”
Maggie smiled, grateful for the freeing feeling of it.
Siena looked at her. “Maggie, do you know what the beach said to the surfer?”
“I’m really not sure.”
“Nothing! It just waved!”
Luke threw back his head and let loose that deranged laugh of his, which cracked Maggie up. When the laughter quieted between them, Luke said, “You always were a good listener.”
“Thanks, although I’m not sure my parents would have always agreed with that.”
Luke glanced at the girls, who had fallen back into their own pre-teen conversation. “Yes, well, parents have a lot to compete with.” He winked at her. “Seriously, I bet that listening ear of yours has served you well as a hairstylist.”
“Yes, I suppose it has.” She fiddled with the spoon in her cup, but didn’t take a bite. Those persistent questions hung on the edge of her tongue, but she pushed them away. Instead, she asked, “How about your job? Do you have someone watching the shop for you?”
“I do. A couple of avid surfers come in several times a week. Pay isn’t great, but the discounts are.”
“I’m sure that goes a long way.”
He leaned forward, grinning, but before Luke could say a thing, a woman’s voice broke into the conversation.
“Well, well, well, look at all of you!”
All four chins turned toward the woman who had joined their circle. Lillian Madsen, the town’s most notorious realtor, stood there looking highly bejeweled and smugly happy with herself.
“If I did not know better, I’d say that you look like one happy family sitting here.”
Luke’s expression was a mask. “Hello, Lillian.”
The woman nodded, her Cheshire-cat smile growing longer still. “Luke.” She turned to Maggie, a sad pout suddenly appearing on her face. “Dear Maggie. I was so terribly sorry to hear about your parents’ accident. Such a tragedy. How are you doing, dear?”
“We are all managing very well. Thank you.” Maggie hoped her answer was enough to make the vulture fly off to her cave. She had been warned by her siblings that Lillian would show some sort of sympathy, but that the woman was really only after one thing: her family’s beach house listing. The woman had no shame—she’d even tried to talk Daisy into selling her mother’s home while Wren was still in the hospital after her stroke.
Lillian nodded, a heavy frown pulling at the corners of her lipstick-layered mouth. “That’s good to hear.” She presented a card as if it were a sleight of hand trick. “I understand that you and your siblings are hard at work improving the beach house. I am here to list it for you, when you need me.”
Maggie took the card and tucked it into the pocket of her hoodie without looking at it. “I’ll keep you in mind.”
Lillian wasn’t deterred. “Perhaps we can meet this week, say, tomorrow at ten a.m.?”
Luke spoke up. “That won’t work. I need her at surf camp. She has your card, Lillian. I’m sure she’ll call you if your services become necessary.”
Lillian pooched her lips tightly, the lines in her upper lip deepening dramatically. She thrust her chin forward, her brows raised. “You mean when they become necessary, Luke.” She winked at Maggie and mouthed call me before turning on her shiny black heels and leaving them alone.
Maggie owed Luke one. He had managed to get rid of that pesky real estate agent without being rude. Her family had warned her about the woman, but she had not prepared herself for the woman’s lack of manners masquerading as concern. Shew! That woman offered up condolences and a contract in nearly the same breath.
When the girls were finished with their ice cream, Maggie said, “Thanks again for picking up Eva. I appreciate it.” She turned her attention to her daughter. “Ready to go and get some real food in you?”
Eva shrugged. “I guess.” She and Siena walked on ahead of them.
When they reached the door, Luke held it open for Maggie. “Speaking of real food,” he said quietly, “I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. Go with me?”
His sudden invitation stopped her. Not more than ten minutes earlier, Maggie thought Luke was a married man. Well, he sort of still was, and that truth alone left lingering questions. Maggie blocked the doorway now, her mind a tangle of thoughts.
“Excuse me.” A woman and her toddler were attempting to enter so Maggie slid out of their way, bumping into Luke as she did. He caught her, his warm hand settling on her lower back. She flicked him a quick smile and continued through the doorway and out onto the sidewalk. Luke’s hand found her side, and he touched her briefly. She spun around.
“So. Dinner tonight?”
Maggie licked her lips, thinking. She glanced at Eva, who continued to chatter on with Siena near Luke’s car.
Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, his warm expression cooling some. “I thought maybe we coul
d have that talk you mentioned earlier.”
“Yes. Sure. I’ll check to see if Eva can hang out with Daisy tonight.”
He grinned. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”
Five
Maggie stood back, admiring a job well done. She had just finished applying a coat of paint in the large first floor bathroom, which, unfortunately, included more than one dollop of drying paint on her sweats. As her eyes roamed around the room, checking the corners, she became vaguely aware of girlish chatter coming from Eva’s room. After Luke had chased off Lillian and they all had finished their ice cream and yogurt, and after he had nudged her into saying yes to having dinner with him, the girls begged to hang out.
More than once she’d had to question her sanity.
Eva appeared in the doorway. “Mom? We’re still hungry. Can we have the rest of the mac and cheese? I promise to eat the tomatoes.” Her daughter flashed her a wide and somewhat fake smile.
Chopped tomatoes was Maggie’s way of making macaroni and cheese somewhat healthy. But Eva had long ago figured out how to smoosh the tomatoes against the side of the bowl, making them look half eaten. She had always figured that at least her daughter would be getting the essence of a vegetable in her body …
“Of course,” Maggie said. “You know the drill, though: Clean up after yourselves.”
Eva took off, her footfalls heavy across squeaky old floorboards, the sound bringing back memories in torrents. Maggie scooped up a few rags and dropped them into a bucket. As she listened to Eva banter like a mini-me and Siena giggle in response, she remembered the days of eating breakfast before the beach, lunch after the beach, and being called in for dinner at twilight by the commanding voice of their father … after their mother’s less convincing voice had been ignored.
Oh, there were other memories, ones far less soothing. Like the times work dried up for their dad and they’d have to pack up and move off to wherever the next meal came from. Eventually, they all settled outside of Phoenix, which is where Maggie eventually put down roots. Her siblings, though, ran off to where school and work took them. And soon after, her parents decided to do missionary work for a few years. When Maggie’s husband left, and with her family flung farther than a quick drive away, those carefree days of running around the old beach house seemed more like an old black-and-white movie than real life.
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