“Thank you for saying so,” Pricilla said. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear that, especially from you.”
“You’re quite welcome.” LeeAnne continued to stand next to Priscilla, a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. “So, what do you know about the salt-and-pepper hottie at three o’clock?”
Dutifully, Priscilla glanced over her shoulder. Wade was standing next to a stocky man, a real estate investor she had heard would be here. As if to prove her wrong about his uptight wardrobe, Wade wore blue drawstring shorts, a white tee, and slip-on boat shoes. She wondered if he would thank her later ...
“So?” LeeAnne interrupted. “Is he single?”
Priscilla’s concentration broke. “Excuse me?”
LeeAnne nodded toward Wade. “You know him, right?”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Prince is a lovely man.”
“And?”
Priscilla shrugged. “I don’t have any insight into his love life. Sorry.”
LeeAnne licked her lips and cast a furtive glance toward Wade and his investor friend. “No matter. I’ll go on over and introduce myself.”
She watched LeeAnne saunter over to the men, clipboard in hand, expectancy on her face. Another whoop went out from the crowd and Priscilla flicked her gaze toward the sea again, with its blues and greens and saturation of wildlife. She inhaled and let her breath out, thankful for the opportunity to experience all of it.
For the next hour, Priscilla did what she came to do: She sang the praises of Sea Glass Inn to everyone she encountered. As their excursion took them out and around Anacapa Island, one of a string of islands off of the coast, she wandered around the deck of the boat, making conversation. She offered hellos and information, and occasionally snapped a photo of newly made friendships.
They were on their way back toward the mainland when Wade showed up at the railing next to her. “You’ve been busy,” he said.
She nodded, her eyes on the sea. “I did what I came here to do—and then some.”
“If the hairstylist career becomes tiring, you might want to take up sales and marketing. You’re good at it.”
“Thank you—hold on a second!” A young boy had darted for Priscilla, his skin as green as a pickle. He held one hand over his mouth and looked at her in horror. “I’ve got you,” she said assuringly, and quickly lifted him high enough to puke over the rail without falling in.
When he was finished, she set him back down on the deck and patted his head. “Feel better?”
He nodded vigorously and ran back to the adults who were sitting on a bench in the center of the deck, none the wiser.
Wade wore a comical smile. “Where did you learn to do that?”
Priscilla waved him off. “That was instinct.”
“Then I’m impressed with your instincts.”
She smiled. “You would have done the same.”
“Doubtful. If the child had run up to me, I would have stood by while he vomited on my shoes.”
“Well, now,” she said, her voice teasing, “maybe I should have let you step in. Ba dum bump.”
Wade held up his hands in surrender, laughter lighting his face. “Okay. All right. You obviously carry the mothering gene.”
She smiled at him, but had nothing to add. So she glanced toward the harbor mouth, where they were headed. A paddle boarder rode a shallow wake behind a boat that had slowed its pace after passing a sign on a buoy warning sailors of the harbor speed limit. Her mind went back to the early days with her husband, Leo.
* * *
“Let’s have a baby,” she said one Saturday after she’d put away lunch leftovers and loaded the dishwasher.
Leo’s right brow shot up toward the ceiling. He lurched forward, onto his feet, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her down onto the overstuffed couch with him.
He grinned, his skin unshaven. “Why would I need a baby when I’ve already got one?”
Priscilla ran a finger along his grizzled cheek. “I’m serious.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “I thought I was enough for you.”
“Of course, you are. A baby would enhance what we already have.”
Leo sighed. He held her in one arm while reaching for the remote in the other. “What we have is perfect already. Why mess with perfection?” Then he switched on their smart TV.
Priscilla lolled a look at the screen over their fireplace. It was early afternoon, which meant the game was about to start. She snuggled in closer to Leo, whose touch on her waist had loosened some.
“I agree that this is perfect, but I want you to think about it. Will you do that? For me?”
He forced his gaze away from the television and found her eyes. In them she saw uncertainty, but he relented. “Sure, baby. I’ll think about it.” He kissed her cheek. “Are we good?”
Before she could answer, he’d already turned his attention to football.
* * *
“What do you prefer, Italy or California?”
Priscilla’s mind returned to the present. She blinked and took in Wade’s expression. He had just asked her a question. “Excuse me?” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get that.”
His laughter rolled out comfortably. “It was a rhetorical question, really. You mentioned your trip to Italy, where you met Meg. And I asked which you prefer—Italy or California?”
Priscilla flashed back on her meeting with Meg at the top of a steep hill. What a gorgeous day it had been. She had climbed all those stairs, hoping to sweat out her pain. And then she’d met Meg, who was dealing with her own kind of discomfort.
She nodded, remembering. “It was kismet, meeting Meg out there. Brought me here to California, well, eventually it did. And I’m quite content here in my new surroundings.” She inhaled more sea air and looked at Wade. “Because of that, it’s very difficult to choose one over the other—though I know you probably thought I’d say Italy.”
He shrugged good-naturedly. “That sounds fair.”
The man Wade had been talking to earlier joined them.
“Priscilla, I’d like you to meet Samuel Facet,” Wade said. “Sam, Priscilla is a friend from Sea Glass Inn, a marvelous property and one of today’s hosts.”
Samuel shook her hand then turned to Wade. “I’ll be disembarking the moment we reach the dock. But I’d like to speak to you more about EduCenter and the predicament you’re in over there. A mighty worthwhile endeavor. I’m not sure if I can help, but we’ll see.”
Wade thanked him and they watched as the man made his way through the crowd toward the exit where he would have to wait until they were safely moored.
“EduCenter? What is that?” she asked.
Wade flicked a glance her way, his expression a mask. She did notice, however, a dip of concern hovering above his eyes, his brows lowering. “Listen, about that. I wonder if you could pretend you did not hear any mention of it.”
She turned fully to him now, her eyes questioning.
“It’s a charity for teens in need, most who are in foster care. We’re giving them practical, financial education. It’s not math—”
“Which they likely would hate.”
“Precisely. I try to teach them ... we teach them about finances in the real world. Some kids are falling asleep in Algebra, so we give them tools that excite them. Or try to, at least.”
“So ... you’re a teacher too?”
His chin dipped and he flashed a look up through guarded eyes. “It’s new for me, but yes, this is something I am passionate about.”
“And if you’re passionate about it, and you know your stuff—which you clearly do—then you are qualified to teach.”
“I try. One thing we also do is make sure the kids have access to full meals when they’re on-site. Helps them stay awake.”
“Kind of like the two-handed Bible—teach them the word and meet their physical need. That’s really beautiful, Wade.”
“Thank you.” He rubbed his lips together, silently watching her
before saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d like to ask that you not share what I’ve told you with anyone else. I prefer to be as anonymous as possible regarding the center.”
“Oh I can’t imagine why. It’s a worthwhile mission, so why not shout it from the balcony?”
He frowned. “I suppose I didn’t phrase it well. It would be perfectly fine mentioning the center as a worthwhile organization with a mission to help children. But I don’t care to draw attention to myself in any way.”
“I see.”
“So we’ll keep this between us, at least for now? I only mentioned the situation to Sam because he was a past supporter and had asked for an update.”
Priscilla continued to eye him. She turned her back on the sea and leaned against the railing as the chartered boat rolled closer to the landing dock, connecting her gaze with his. “On one condition.”
“Of course. What is it?”
She crossed her arms. “I would love to see the center. Maybe I can help. Will you take me there?”
Wade hesitated, his mouth unreadable, his eyes showing a hint of a surprised smile. “If that’s what you want, then of course, I will take you to the center sometime soon.”
“Soon” came along faster than he had expected.
For nearly an hour, Wade and Priscilla had been on the road from the coast to a small inland town off the I-5. He pulled his BMW into a parking space at the center and attempted to walk around the car to open Priscilla’s door, but she had already exited. She had a look of anticipation on her face and a bag full of who-knew-what on her shoulder as she waited for him to lead the way.
“The entrance is over here,” he said.
She followed him into the building, past the lobby where he said a quick hello to Mandy, the receptionist, introduced Priscilla, and then continued down the hall. They reached an open door that said Director and stepped inside.
Empty.
Wade turned around. “I was going to introduce you to Candace, our director, but she must be working with the kids right now. Would you like a tour?”
“Please.”
They wandered down the first corridor and peeked into a youth room filled with tables and desk chairs, the kind that might be found in a plush office. The whiteboard had a handwritten table with columns of words at the top, such as cellphone, gaming, car expenses, and food.
Priscilla looked up at him. “Part of your Money Smarts course for teens, I take it?”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
“Oh good, you’re here.” Wade turned to find Candace marching up to them, her sleek ponytail bobbing to the beat.
“Hi, Candace. I’d like you to meet my friend, Priscilla. She asked to see the center.”
“A pleasure,” Candace said, offering a hand. Then she turned her attention back to him. “Wade? I wonder if I could speak to you in my office for a moment?” She didn’t add “privately,” but it was understood.
Thankfully, Priscilla appeared to understand and not take offense. She touched the crook of his arm. “I’ll be fine on my own. Am I okay to wander?”
After she had gone, he ducked inside Candace’s office.
The director whirled around to face him, her fist stuck hard into her waist. “They really are pulling funding.”
“You’re sure.”
She turned up a palm, her expression exasperated but resolved. Her brows reached higher than anyone’s he had ever seen. “That’s what Rosario told me on the phone today. She said that their bottom line was down, so they were making cuts. And we, apparently, are the first to go.”
Wade pressed his lips together. He understood the ups and downs of bottom lines. His father had gained and lost so many that those wins and losses had shaped him—and scared him. This was different, though. What he found hard to understand was the reneging of a promise. It ate at him.
He snapped a look at Candace who looked as if she had no hope. Her downcast eyes and frown brought him to his senses. “You do not have to worry about this, Candace. I will take care of everything.”
“But ... but our budget depends on these promised funds. The rest of the board has already told me they have nothing to contribute.” She exhaled and looked around before looking back to him. She stepped closer and lifted her chin. “What will we do?”
A beat of silence fell between them and he began to pace. After a silent minute had passed, Wade walked toward the exit and stopped. With one hand on the door, he turned to Candace. “Go home and pour yourself a glass of wine and don’t worry. I have a plan and will call you tomorrow with details.”
Chapter 4
A strange kind of peace filtered through Priscilla as she moseyed down the hall, peeking inside various rooms. This center was more like a big, comfortable home made for a family with many children. Unlike the classroom she first poked her head inside, the other rooms were outfitted with couches and throw rugs, recliner chairs, and low tables. One had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves fully stocked with reading material. Another had a small kitchen carved into a corner.
Female laughter led her to a room at the end of the hall, but when she arrived, no one was there. More peals of laughter bubbled up. She leaned into the sound, searching for its source. At the end of the hall she encountered a circular staircase and wound her way upstairs.
“So this guy was, like, you know, saying that I had beautiful eyes, and I was like, what’re you smokin’, dude!”
More hilarious laughter.
Priscilla poked her head inside. The room fell quiet. “Hi, there,” she said.
Four teenagers stared back at her. Not one returned the greeting.
“I’m Priscilla.”
“Pri-scilla?” The young girl with vibrant brown eyes said her name like a scowl. “What kind of name is that?”
“My mother always thought it sounded like royalty.”
Another girl, this one with stringy strawberry-blonde hair, crossed her arms. “Sounds snooty.” Her eye roll much more pronounced than it needed to be.
A girl with dark chocolate skin stuck out her lip and shrugged. “I like it. Sounds all girly-girl.”
Priscilla smiled. “May I come in?”
“Yeah, whatever,” the brown-eyed girl said.
She stepped inside, ever aware of the flush of estrogen in the room. Her eyes struggled to take in the various kinds of makeup, the brushes and combs, the products—most of them low-end toxic sprays and lotions that would do more harm than good to the girls’ locks.
“What are you—a teacher?” the strawberry-blonde asked.
“Actually, I’m a hairdresser.”
“Yeah, I figured that. Your hair is kinda perfect.” She said that with a turned-up nose.
“So you don’t like my hair?”
The girl shrugged. “It’s fine. You just look rich.”
“I see.” She paused. “What are your names?”
When no one answered right away, the brown-eyed girl spoke up, leading the introductions. “I’m Mari.” She pointed around the room to the strawberry-blonde, the dark-skinned beauty, and the blonde-haired girl that had yet to say anything. “And that’s Amber, Staci, and Morgan.”
“You from around here?” Amber asked.
“No, I’m from Virginia. I just moved here a few months ago, well, to the beach.”
“See? I told you Priscilla was rich.”
Though an invisible wall had been erected in the room, Priscilla determined to lower it, inch by inch. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never told my new friends in California,” she said.
“What’s that?” Mari wore suspicion on her face.
Priscilla laughed. “Well, when I was young, the kids in my neighborhood called me Cilla.’”
“That’s much better than Priscilla,” Amber said.
Priscilla laughed. “I figured you’d like that.”
“So if you’re a hairdresser, what are you doing here?” Staci asked. “Did you come to teach us about hair?”
“Yeah, Amber can do braids real good—” Morgan said.
“But only certain kinds.” Staci quirked her head to the side, assessing Priscilla. “Want to teach us other kinds?”
“If you’d like, I can do that.”
Nearly the entire time they talked, Morgan was holding her hair up with one hand. “I wish I could put my hair up.”
“Well, you certainly could.”
Morgan frowned. “I don’t have the profile for it.”
Priscilla laughed. “Oh, honey. I’ve heard that so many times, it isn’t funny.” She stood and walked over to the girl, then gently reached for the spray of hair she held above her head. “May I?”
Morgan released a dramatic sigh, her shoulders drooping. “Okay.”
As Priscilla set out to make a messy bun out of Morgan’s hair, she talked her way throughout. “Part your hair as normal, like so,” she said. “Then use your fingers to make a line down behind your part. You’ll want to leave these front pieces hanging in front, okay?”
The other girls began to step closer, peering over the process.
“Then use your finger and thumb to create a hole at the top of your ponytail, like this.” She demonstrated and waited for all of them to acknowledge that they understood. “Now here’s the fun part. You’ll want to flip your ponytail upward like this and stick it right into the hole you made. Then pull it all the way through.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” Staci said.
“Isn’t it?” Priscilla grinned. “Okay, Staci, reach into my bag over there—I should have done that first—and pull out the pink zippered bag. Inside you’ll find bobby pins and some small elastic circles.”
Staci rummaged through the bag and found the elements Priscilla asked for. “I have a whole bunch of ’em in my hand.”
“Good. Now, we’re going to repeat the process a couple of times, like this.” She continued to demonstrate, patiently anchoring several layers of ponytails and flipping them upward. When she was done, she said, “Now let’s create a bun by rolling the last ponytail into a circle. But first, Morgan’s hair is long, so I’m going to put some bands on the last ponytail, like so.”
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