“Good idea. Pete and I are going to do some clam digging later when low tide hits, so anyone who’s interested can join us. If Tyrella’s open, she’ll probably have rubber boots for sale.”
Jenna couldn’t envision the stylish and cranky Taylor in a pair of rubber boots out in the cold, digging in the mud for clams, or any of the other women for that matter, but she suspected the men and the kids would enjoy the experience.
“I’ll pass that on,” she said. “And thanks for everything you’re doing.”
“Going hunting for anything, especially clams, is no hardship for a guy,” he said.
“And here I thought you were being so heroic.”
“That, too.”
“Seriously, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you in all this.”
“I’m there for you, Jenna.”
When his voice softened and she caught the hint of tenderness in his eyes, she couldn’t help wondering if something could work out between them. Someday... “I owe you,” she said, her own voice getting a little mushy. Maybe, like Brody, he’d take that as an invitation to ask for a kiss. Or more.
He didn’t. “You don’t owe me anything and you know it. How about we build a beach fire tonight?”
That brought back memories and made Jenna’s heart skip. The last time she and Seth had sat on the beach together, their driftwood fire had been nothing compared to the combustion they were creating between the two of them. Was he remembering that?
She waited a beat in the hope that he’d allude to it. He didn’t. “A fire sounds good,” she said. “I’ll see if any of our other guests want to join in, as well.”
Although a fire with just Seth and her really sounded good. She told herself to stop indulging in stupid daydreams as she made her way to town. Her Romance Road was pitted with holes and lined with brambles, and she didn’t need to be dragging a reluctant Prince Charming down it. Anyway, he wasn’t the only prince out there. She had time to find her way to her fairy-tale castle and her happy ending.
Meanwhile, she turned her attention to the task of checking out the shopping. The air hummed with the sound of generators as she drove around town, and she saw a faint glow in the windows of the little cabana shops. Cindy’s Candies was open, and she stopped in to pick up some chocolate to replace Karen’s depleted stash.
“I’m glad to see you’re open,” she said to Cindy, who was bundled up in a jacket and fingerless gloves. She was wearing a headband with felt reindeer antlers and a smile.
“It’s freezing in here and we’re back to the Stone Age,” she told Jenna, “but we’re doing business.”
To prove it, a trio of women walked in. “Wow, look at all this,” said one.
“Better stock up in case we’re stuck here for Christmas,” said another.
Jenna decided to follow their example and filled a basket with saltwater taffy. At another shop she found some cheap Christmas stockings and bought those, too, just in case. Although she hoped it wouldn’t come to just in case. If only she’d set an earlier date for the festival. They wouldn’t be in this mess now.
“You couldn’t know,” Kiki consoled her when she stopped in at Something Fishy for some trinkets to stuff in those stockings. “Anyway, this is all working out. Thank God I still have my manual credit card imprint machine. It pays to hang on to things.”
It was certainly going to pay off for Kiki. The shop was crowded with people milling around, checking out the baseball caps, shot glasses, T-shirts imprinted with pictures of sharks, and abalone jewelry.
Her next stop was the hardware store where Tyrella was also selling merchandise the old-fashioned way. She, too, had plenty of customers.
“How are my people doing?” Jenna asked her.
“I left them eating the cinnamon rolls I took out of the freezer and drinking hot cider. I suspect by now they’re all out shopping or beachcombing for post-storm treasure. And that toddler, what a doll. Of course, we’re finding it a challenge to keep him away from the woodstove.”
“I don’t know what I’d have done without you,” Jenna said. How did you ever repay friends who went such a long extra mile?
Tyrella waved away her gratitude. “You’d have managed.”
“I think some of my people will be in later for rubber boots. Pete and Seth plan on leading a clam-digging expedition. And we’re going to build a bonfire on the beach, so if anyone at your end wants to come, they’re welcome.”
“Sounds like fun,” Tyrella said. “Can I come, too?”
“You have to ask? Of course!”
Jenna extended the same offer to Brody when she ran into him outside the hardware store. “Sounds great,” he said. “But even by the fire it’ll probably be cold. You might need someone to warm you up.”
“And you’re just the man for the job?” she joked.
“Glad to see you realize that.”
Maybe she was beginning to. Getting warm next to Brody was tempting, but with so many people around, the only sparks flying would be from the wood.
Jenna’s last stop was the food bank, run by Bob and Sandra Harley and staffed by volunteers from the various churches in town. It had been turned into an emergency supply depot, offering oil lamps, candles, socks, scarves and coats, as well as food. Most of the food was gone, but Jenna did manage to score a couple of cans of chili and another bottle of juice.
“How’s everyone doing over at the Driftwood?” asked Pastor Paul, one of the volunteers on duty.
“We’re surviving,” Jenna said. “But I’m praying hard that the road will be cleared by Christmas.”
“I think we all are,” he said. “But if that prayer doesn’t get answered, there’s probably a reason.”
Not what Jenna wanted to hear. She wanted her daughter back home.
And she wanted her mother. Funny how, even when you were a mother yourself, you never outgrew that.
She put in a call, in the hope that her mom was on break and could answer her cell.
“I was just going to call you,” said Mel. “Are you doing okay? You’ve made the local news up here, and it looks awful.”
“We’re making do,” Jenna said, and filled her in.
“How nice that everyone’s pulling together,” Mel said. “What an experience for your guests. They’ll be talking about their storm adventure for weeks.”
“Not all of them in a good way,” Jenna said, then went on to tell her mother about the unhappy Taylor.
“It sounds like something’s amiss there,” Mel said. “People aren’t unhappy for no reason.”
“You’re right. I think they’ve got some money problems. I just wish she’d keep her misery to herself. She and her sister got into it this morning, and it was really uncomfortable to be around.”
“That is awkward,” Mel agreed.
“I don’t remember Celeste and me fighting like that,” Jenna said.
“That’s because you didn’t. Well, rarely,” Mel amended. “You two were always there for each other. Maybe that was because of losing your father so young. We were all we had and we had to stick together. Family’s important.”
“Maybe somebody needs to tell that to Taylor Marsh,” Jenna said.
“Let’s hope at some point she’ll figure it out for herself, which is the best way to learn those life lessons.”
“As in don’t butt in? Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to. I’ve got my hands full keeping everyone fed and entertained.”
“I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job.”
“Between Celeste and Aunt Edie and me, I think we’ve got it covered.” And Brody, Tyrella, Courtney and Seth. Even Pete, who was pitching in, not to mention all the volunteers in town doling out emergency supplies, and the businesses doing their best to stay open for the trapped festival attendees. Talk about a group effort.
�
�I’m afraid my break’s over,” Mel said. “I need to get back to work.”
Jenna was reluctant to let her go. “I wish you were here. Well, except we don’t exactly have the best living conditions at the moment.” So, it was just as well she wasn’t.
“I’ll be there for Christmas,” her mom promised. “Or as soon as the road’s clear.”
Oh, please let that be by Christmas.
Jenna said goodbye to her mom and made her way back home. She arrived to find Celeste had the kids bundled up and ready to go beachcombing. “We’re going to see if we can find some good crafting material so we can make some special presents for the parents,” she told Jenna.
“Fabulous!” When it came to keeping kids busy, Celeste was a regular idea factory. Of course, it helped that she was a teacher.
“We wrote letters to Santa,” Miranda told Jenna, “and Miss Celeste mailed them Reindeer Express.”
“That’ll get them there,” Jenna said. Reindeer Express, the same mail service their mother had used when they were little and writing to Santa. Mom would love it.
The thought of her mom possibly not making it down for Christmas saddened her. The idea of her daughter not being home at Christmas was downright depressing. Santa, please come through for us all and get that road open.
“Reggie Hinkle says there’s no such thing as Santa,” announced Christopher, the oldest boy.
Was it Jenna’s imagination or did kids stop believing in Santa at increasingly younger ages? “Those presents must come from somewhere,” she said. Kids should believe in magic and happy endings as long as possible.
“And he who doesn’t believe doesn’t receive,” added Celeste.
He smiled and shrugged. “That’s why I wrote the letter.”
Hedging his bets. Good plan.
“Okay, guys,” Celeste said, “let’s go see if we can find some rocks and shells to paint.”
She took the kids out for their field trip, and Jenna shared the news that the shops were open, and her guests scattered like leaves in a strong wind. Except for Kat, who decided she was perfectly happy parked on the couch by the fire with a book.
“You won’t miss me, then,” Darrell told her. “I have to run a secret errand for Santa,” he said with a wink.
“Don’t go spending a lot,” she cautioned.
He made no promises, just kissed her goodbye and scooted out the door.
Jenna found herself feeling a little jealous. As far as men were concerned, there were still plenty of winners out there. What had she done to deserve a loser?
You picked him, she reminded herself. And at least they’d had a lovely daughter. Feeling the need to connect with her baby, she put in a call.
Sabrina sure wasn’t suffering stuck up north with Daddy and the grandparents. “We’re going to Disney on Ice this afternoon,” she informed Jenna. “Then Grandma and Grandpa are taking me to Red Robin.”
Obviously, her daughter’s life wasn’t being ruined by the fact that she couldn’t get home. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” Jenna said. And it was probably just as well Sabrina wasn’t stranded without her hair dryer or a way to charge her iPod. She certainly wouldn’t have been thrilled at having to share her room. Jenna wisely chose not to mention the fact that it was currently overrun with strangers.
Still, even though it was all for the best... “I sure miss you, sweetie.”
“But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Daddy will be bringing me back then, right?”
“If the road’s finally clear.”
“It has to be,” Sabrina said. “I don’t want to spend Christmas up here with Aurora. I want to be with you and Grandma and Aunt Celeste and Aunt Edie. All my presents are down there,” she added. “And Tristan was going to come over.”
This was news to Jenna.
“It’ll be clear by tomorrow,” Sabrina insisted as if saying would make it so.
“I hope it will,” Jenna said. “But if not, we’ll do Christmas as soon as you get down here.”
“With eggnog cake?”
“With eggnog cake.”
“Don’t open my present to you until I’m there.”
“I won’t,” Jenna assured her.
“I wish I’d stayed home,” Sabrina grumbled.
“Come on, now,” Jenna coaxed. “You’ve had fun with Daddy and the grandparents, right?”
“Yeah, but Aurora doesn’t like me, and she hogs him. And I miss Tristan. And Jennifer and Hudson and I were going to do presents tomorrow, and I was going to ask Seth to build us a beach fire. And the youth choir is supposed to sing for the Christmas Eve candlelight service.”
Ah, yes, her daughter was definitely plugging in here at the beach. “Well, let’s hope they get the road cleared,” was all Jenna could say. She decided not to share that there’d be clam digging and a beach fire later that night. Then her daughter, who was being taken to an ice show and a popular restaurant chain, would feel deprived. “But if they don’t, we’ll make up for it when you’re back.”
“Okay,” Sabrina said, resigned to her fate.
“I love you, baby. I’m sorry you’re not here.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Jenna ended the call with a sigh. She’d envisioned a very different holiday than the one she was getting.
* * *
Taylor picked up a pair of silver earrings shaped like sand dollars from a display in Beachcomber, a shop with all manner of chick-centric treats. Two years earlier she would’ve bought them. Now she could only wish to buy them. Aware of her sister hovering at her elbow, she put them back.
“Would you like those?” Sarah asked.
“No. I don’t need them.” It almost felt good to be noble. (Did passing up cute earrings qualify as noble? She hoped so.) She’d apologized to Sarah but still felt guilty over her behavior, and it was making their shopping outing more uncomfortable for her than pleasant.
“I didn’t ask if you needed them.”
Sarah picked up the earrings, and Taylor laid a hand on her arm. “No, don’t. Really.”
“I want to. For Christmas.”
“This trip was our Christmas present,” Taylor said.
“And some present it turned out to be. Let me buy the earrings, Tay. I can afford it.”
There it was again, the reminder that at least one of them had her act together. “No, don’t, please,” Taylor said, and then distracted her sister by directing her attention to a display of candles embedded with shells that Taylor would’ve loved to be able to afford. Sarah snapped one up, as well as a dish towel with a quarter moon on it that said I Heart Moonlight Harbor. Taylor drifted over to another section of the store and checked out a collection of party dip mixes, all the while wishing she’d stayed at the house.
She hated going from store to store, each visit a reminder that she had no money to spend and no way to pay the bills they already had.
At the kite shop Sarah purchased kites for the boys and a little mermaid doll for Miranda and a puzzle. “In case we don’t make it home in time for Christmas.”
“Please don’t say that,” Taylor said.
“It could happen. Best to be prepared.”
At Books and Beans, Sarah bought them both lattes. All purchases made with cash, because of course credit was for losers who had to live from paycheck to paycheck. That, according to Chris, Mr. Knows Everything.
Maybe Chris had the right idea, though. After all, who could afford earrings and who couldn’t? Still, if Greg hadn’t quit his job...their finances still would’ve been a mess. They’d been living beyond their means long before that final nail hit the coffin.
And had that all been Greg’s fault? How many unnecessary purchases had she charged while rationalizing why she needed them?
Okay, so she’d played her part, but he was still the archvillain. Than
ks to him and his stubborn refusal to sign the death certificate for his dead company, she was trailing her sister from half-lit shop to half-lit shop, watching her spend money on kites and candles while Taylor wondered how they were going to make their next house payment. No matter whether she was marooned here at Moonlight Harbor or at home surrounded by presents she couldn’t afford and shouldn’t have bought—either way, her life was a mess.
They were walking to the car when Chris called Sarah to tell her a clamming expedition was planned for later and asking her to pick up rubber boots for him and the boys at the hardware store. “I guess we’re having a beach fire tonight, too,” she said to Taylor once she’d told her about Chris’s request.
That should have sounded like fun. Taylor frowned.
“I have to get rubber boots for the clam diggers. Want to come in?” Sarah asked as they pulled up in front of the hardware store.
Taylor had seen enough things she couldn’t afford. She shook her head. “No. I’ll wait here.”
“Okay. I won’t be long.”
Taylor watched as her sister ran into the store. She seemed positively lighthearted, which was funny considering the fact that Sarah had always been the more serious one.
She’d gotten married long before Taylor had met Greg, putting her in a different world. Then she’d had the boys and moved to a different universe, where life was about back-to-school shopping, staying current on immunizations, trying to find an SUV they could afford. Back then, it seemed that her sister’s life had consisted of penny-pinching and drudgery. Taylor had found it hard to identify. She and Greg had student loans, but Greg had made good money. She’d worked part-time and had plenty to spend. Even after Miranda came along, they’d been okay. Some hospital bills to pay that insurance hadn’t covered, but so what? They had money. Funny, now they didn’t, and she was the one whose life consisted of penny-pinching and drudgery, and her sister was carefree, happily running into stores to drop a wad of bills.
Actually, it wasn’t funny. Not at all.
Sarah was back out in ten minutes, carrying a big, plastic bag filled with rubber boots. “I got some for Miranda, too,” she said as she tossed them into the back seat.
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