“There’s just one more thing to add…” Ryan glanced at her. “You seem to really like working with Billy, and I remember how much you loved your job at Revere. If I stay home, you can see if the freelance job they offered goes anywhere? Or you can start something new, whatever you want.”
Stacy thought about how disappointed and angry Billy would be when he learned they’d miss the deadline. She closed her eyes to block it out but still, she saw his face. And that was her fault too.
“Thanks, but I don’t think Billy—or anyone—will work with me after this. Technically the deadline isn’t until tomorrow, but we’ll miss it. I had a hundred pages left to edit and Billy had more to write. We can’t do all that in a couple hours.”
Ryan laughed, shaking the bed.
“What’s so funny?” Stacy said, stung that he seemed to make light of this after everything that had happened.
He laid his hand on her knee. “Stace, you aren’t going to miss your deadline.”
“I will,” she insisted. “The manuscript is due at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I still have a hundred pages to edit and Billy has more to write. There’s no way to catch up now.”
He laughed again and stood. “You should talk to your mother.”
Stacy rubbed her face with her palms, not understanding the abrupt change of topic. “No. I can’t take a conversation with my mother right now.”
Ryan lifted a summer dress from the hook and brought it to her. “Trust me, you’re going to want this one.”
Twenty-Three
Kaye had asked the boys—Ryan, Chase, and Brad—to take the kids away, and they had agreed not to return until they heard from her.
She tidied the kitchen as she waited for her daughter to come downstairs; wiped down the kitchen counter, though it didn’t need to be done. The lunch dishes were on the drying rack, the floor mopped, everything put away. There was nothing that needed her attention. Nothing, except her daughter and a conversation that was long overdue.
The distance between them was Kaye’s fault; had always been her fault. She had been closer to Brad, probably because he’d been easier, willing to go along with anything Kaye decided. But Stacy had known her own mind from a very young age and that was difficult to control. The more Kaye tried, the further they had drifted apart, until they had become polite strangers. And that was Kaye’s fault too.
Kaye heard the back stairs creak as Stacy descended and she froze, unsure.
Stacy entered the kitchen, making her way to the table and the pot of tea Kaye had set out for her. “Everyone’s giving me tea today,” she said, her voice flat.
Kaye opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Are you hungry? Do you want a sandwich?”
“Where is everybody?” Stacy glanced toward the yard.
Kaye forced herself to the table, to a seat opposite her daughter. “They went to feed the ducks. I asked them to give us time to talk.”
Stacy’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t reply.
“How are you feeling?” It seemed to be a good place to start.
“I’m fine.” Stacy’s reply was clipped. “Let’s get this over with, Mom. I’m tired.”
“How long have you been afraid of the ocean?” Kaye blurted out.
“What?” Stacy glanced at her mother, and this time it was Kaye who looked away.
She folded her hands in her lap and forced the words to come. “The clues were there all summer. How upset you were when the club’s pool closed for repairs. That you’ll take the kids anywhere except the beach. Even today, Connor told me you don’t ever let either of them go into the water.”
Stacy’s temper flared. “I don’t have time to listen to you catalogue all my faults. I feel bad enough about what happened. I don’t need your judgment to add to it.”
“That’s not it, Stacy.” Kaye’s voice cracked. “I’m not judging you and I’m hoping you won’t judge me after you hear what I have to say.
“When you and Brad were little, I brought you to the beach one day. You loved the waves when you were little. You were three, I think, and fearless. Your brother was still an infant, so I left him on the shore with your grandmother and took you into the water myself. The swells were higher than usual, and I wanted to teach you how to jump the waves. It was early in the season and there weren’t many people in the ocean. I should have taken that as a sign, but I was a young mother. Young and ignorant.
“We walked into the surf, about chest high. I had you on my hip. We jumped the first wave. The power of the water lifting us from the bottom was exhilarating. It felt as if we were flying and you loved it. You squealed, patted the water with your little hand.”
Kaye felt her chest tighten with panic but pushed it away. She had to continue, for both their sakes.
“We jumped a few more waves before I noticed the undertow. Every time we jumped, the receding wave pulled us a little further away from the shore, a little further out to sea. And when it set me back down, I wasn’t as sure-footed as I’d been before. Very quickly, I could only scrape the sandy bottom with my toes. By then, the waves were coming faster. I held you tighter against my body and started to swim to shore but I couldn’t. The undertow was too strong. I knew I had to get the lifeguards’ attention.”
Kaye swallowed, clenching her fist as she finished her story.
“I thought I could hold you. I held you to my side with my arm and raised the other to get help. Then a rogue wave, bigger than any of the others that came before, picked us up and broke, sucking both of us under the water. The force of the wave ripped your body from mine. I couldn’t right myself, no matter how hard I tried. And I couldn’t find you. I remember clawing at the water, fighting the undertow, opening my eyes and seeing nothing but sand and foam, churning in the current. In reality, it happened quickly, but to me, it seemed to last a lifetime.
“After an eternity, I could finally feel the sand beneath my feet and I could stand. The ocean had spat you out too, further down the beach. Your hair was tangled, your suit was full of sand, your skin mottled with sand-burns. And you were hysterical, screaming and crying.”
“That was real?” Stacy drew a sharp breath. Her face was white. “I’ve had nightmares about being sucked into the ocean and drowning my whole life. I never once thought it really happened. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Honestly, I hoped that you were young enough that you might eventually forget.” Kaye swallowed and continued her story. “And for a long time, I thought you had. You went back in the water, were on the swim team. But that was the pool, not the ocean. I don’t think you’ve been in the ocean since that day. I should have known that but I didn’t. I guess I didn’t look closely enough. I suppose I didn’t want to.” Kaye looked away. “I’m so sorry to have put you in danger so many years ago.”
“Mom…”
Kaye glanced up, her vision blurred. Whatever punishment Stacy decided, Kaye would accept.
To her surprise, Stacy reached across the table for her hand. “That’s a terrible thing to live with.”
A sharp knock on the back door interrupted their conversation, startling them both.
“Hello?” The screen door creaked as it opened. “Anybody here?”
“Billy?” Stacy gaped at him.
Kaye slipped on her company manners, rising to welcome him. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
“Billy, you’ve showered,” Stacy said.
Billy glanced down at his clothing and smiled. “So I have.”
“And you look happy.”
A mischievous smile crept across his face. “I guess I am.” He slid a large envelope across the table, toward Kaye. “This is the last of it.”
“Thank you, Billy.” She moved toward the refrigerator, pulling out sandwich fixings. “Your sandwich will be ready in a minute.”
“What’s going on?” Stacy interrupted, frowning. “Billy, you should be furious at me f
or disappearing on you. Why aren’t you?” She poked the envelope. “And what’s—” Her voice faded and her expression cleared. “Wait. Is this the book? Are you finished?” she ended with a whisper.
“Yes, it is.” Billy slapped the table with an open hand. “All finished and ready to go.”
“How did you—” Stacy sputtered.
Billy giggled, clearly delighted with himself. “Your mother, Stacy dear, is a formidable woman. She came to my room day before yesterday and told me what had happened.” He straightened, reaching for a peach in the fruit bowl. “Then she demanded I finish the story right there and then, didn’t you, Kaye? She edited while I wrote.”
Kaye set a sandwich in front of him. “I did.” She turned to Stacy. “I won’t pretend to know as much as you about editing, but I gave it my best shot.” She touched Stacy’s shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave you two to work out the details.”
Twenty-Four
On the first Saturday of September, Kaye woke early and crept downstairs to a quiet house. She padded into the kitchen and opened the window to let the early morning breeze into the shore house. Throughout the morning, the salty fresh air would ruffle the curtains and fill the house with the scent of the ocean, and she would remember. On snowy winter days in Princeton, she would remember the smell of the ocean in Dewberry Beach.
She poured water into the coffee machine and made her way to the pantry. Pushing aside the tin of decaffeinated green tea she’d bought for Chase earlier in the summer, she reached instead for the strong dark roast he preferred. She slipped a paper filter into the basket and measured in the grounds. The aroma of rich coffee filled the room.
As she turned toward the bread box, a note on the kitchen table caught her attention. On top of a stack of printed pages was a bright orange sticky note written in Stacy’s hand.
We’re finished
You get the first read.
PS: Keep it secret.
She brushed the manuscript with her fingertips, proud that Stacy would choose to share such an accomplishment with her. Kaye intended to find a quiet moment and bring the book to the deck and read it all the way through. Their relationship had improved. Stacy had heard Kaye’s confession and had forgiven her. For that, Kaye was grateful.
Kaye glanced out the kitchen window at what had been Santos’s work shed, now gifted to Brad with Chase’s blessing. Brad and his grandfather had always had a special connection, and Brad seemed pleased to work where his grandfather had spent so much of his time.
What had started as a favor for Mrs. Ivey was beginning to grow into a small business. Brad had asked about staying on at the shore house after the summer season to explore the idea. Kaye had overheard Chase offering to help organize the financials, maybe even offer some seed money. Mrs. Ivey was all for it. As Brad’s first and best client she made no secret of her wish that Brad would put “those city people” out of business.
Kaye lifted the carafe and poured two cups of coffee, adding a bit of cream and a touch of sugar to both. On her way out the door, she paused to examine the butterfly costume she and Sophie had created for the Firefly Festival later that evening. Kaye reached to tap a streak of glitter with her finger and was pleased to see the glue had held.
She pushed open the screen door and took the coffee to the deck.
“Caffeinated?” Chase glanced up from his morning newspaper, one eyebrow raised.
“Not a chance.” Kaye set the mug on the table beside his chair. There were some concessions she wasn’t willing to make.
“Just checking.” Chase folded his paper and set it down. “Are we the only ones up?”
“So far.” Kaye sipped her coffee and looked past the bank of cattails to the pond. The ducks were stirring, quacking loud enough to let everyone know they were awake and ready for bread. The morning air held the first hint of fall, and it wouldn’t be long before they’d need sweaters to sit on the deck. “Stacy’s author friend was over again yesterday.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. And what’s more, I think they might work together on a third book. And I overheard Stacy tell Ryan that Billy might be interested in buying that motel property, can you believe it?”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is.” Kaye smiled into her coffee cup. “If Billy decides to settle in Dewberry Beach and starts work on the third book, it just might be easier if Stacy, Ryan, and the kids stay too, don’t you think? Maybe Ryan can even lend a hand guiding Brad’s new business.”
“What are you planning?” Chase’s eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
“Nothing at all.” Kaye shrugged. “I may have mentioned what a good school Dewberry Beach Elementary is, but that’s all.”
Chase’s laugh warmed her heart. “I just bet that’s all.”
“I spoke to Nancy and George the other day. Their Christmas plans for Austria fell through, something about finding dry rot on the riverboat. They’re renting a cabin in Maine instead and want to know if we’d like to join them.”
“Maine in December?”
“Not December. They moved it to October instead, to see the fall foliage. I thought you might want to go.”
Chase reached for her hand. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Nancy’s bringing over the details this afternoon.” Kaye sipped her coffee, felt the warmth spread throughout her body. “I think it might be fun, but we’ll see. If this doesn’t work out maybe we can go somewhere else, just the two of us.”
“I’d like that.”
Outside, she heard a work crew blocking off streets for the Firefly Festival later. Inside, there was a hum of conversation coming from the kitchen and the clatter of pans on the stove.
It looked as if Labor Day at the shore had begun.
“I’d better go inside, start getting ready for the parade. Connor asked me to walk with him.” Chase beamed as he rose from his chair and gathered his things. “You coming?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there in a minute,” Kaye replied.
She heard the slap of the screen door as Chase went into the house, and the buzz of conversation as he chatted with his grandchildren. She listened to all the sounds inside and smiled. This was exactly what she wanted, her family around her at the shore house. She wanted just one more minute to soak it all in.
Finally, she rose and went to join them.
It had been a wonderful summer.
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Books by Heidi Hostetter
Dewberry Beach
The Shore House
Lowcountry
Things We Surrender
Things We Keep
Inlet Beach
The Inheritance
A Light in the Window
A Letter From Heidi
Thank you so much for choosing to read The Shore House. If you enjoyed it and want to keep up to date with all my latest releases, please sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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The best stories come from writing what you know. For me, writing about the New Jersey shore felt like coming home. I grew up in New Jersey and spent summers at my grandparents’ shore house in a town very much like Dewberry Beach. I remember sparklers and fireflies at night, the ice-cream truck making the rounds in the evening, and daily trips to the salt pond to feed the ducks. My grandfather taught us to crab off the pier, using fish heads tied to the end of a long string because he insisted old ways were the best ways. Applegate’s Hardware is gone now, but when I was a kid, i
t sold everything you could possibly need—or want—for a summer at the shore. It’s not a stretch to imagine Ryan buying an antiquated fire extinguisher there.
As I wrote this story, I wondered what it would be like for a family coming together after a sudden illness and a long recovery. And because no family is perfect, I knew there would be bumps in the road, old hurts to address, misunderstandings to clear up. With a little time and a lot of work, they’d remember what made them a family in the first place. I didn’t know when I started writing that the Bennett family would stay at the shore house after the summer was over, but I’m happy they did.
My next book will be set in Dewberry Beach too, this time with a different family and different circumstances to address. I’m looking forward to visiting the shore again and I hope you’ll join me.
I hope you loved reading The Shore House. If you did, would you mind writing a quick review? It doesn’t have to be long and I’d be so grateful. Reviews make it so much easier for new readers to discover my books for the first time. Thank you again.
If you want to contact me directly, that’s great too—I love hearing from readers. You can find my author page on Facebook or you can join my reading group on Facebook. You can also find me on my website. The links are below.
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And, my website: www.heidihostetter.com
Again, thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoyed the story.
Warmly,
Heidi
Acknowledgments
The Shore House: An emotional and uplifting page turner (Dewberry Beach Book 1) Page 25