Cottage at the Beach (The Off Season)

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Julie had mostly gotten past the pain of realizing that Melvin had been having an affair during the last years of their marriage. Partly because she’d half known it already.

  What she hadn’t gotten past was her anger at Earl. He’d known, and hadn’t told her.

  “This place is adorable!” The squeals from a couple of new teenage guests were a welcome surprise. A lot of the younger customers weren’t too sure about the humble, retro motel Ria had taken over when its ninetysomething owner had retired at the same time Ria had gotten divorced. She’d done a little updating when she could, but not much; the place was a throwback to the 1950s.

  Julie hummed along to “Love Me Tender” as she filed receipts in the old-fashioned filing cabinet. She’d taken a long walk before church this morning, had been doing it most mornings, and her jeans were feeling significantly looser. Over the weekend, she’d gone out with Mary and they’d run into Earl Greene, who had complimented her on her new, colorful dress. She’d snubbed him, of course—he was just kissing up to try to redeem himself for keeping the truth from her—but the admiration in his eyes had still given her a little lift. The self-help book she was reading and the meditative yoga she’d been practicing seemed to be helping her to calm down and relax.

  Life was getting better. It was almost good.

  A throat cleared behind her, the sound rocking her with its familiarity, and she turned to see Melvin standing at the desk. Heat swept through her, just as it always did when she saw him—some mix of anger and embarrassment and remembered passion. “What are you doing here?”

  “Ria’s giving me a free room for the week.”

  “Really? Why?” She went to the computer and scrolled through their reservations, taking deep breaths in an effort to regain her composure. Melvin was staying here? Would his girlfriend be joining him?

  “I’m working on a project here in town,” he said, sounding peevish. “Besides, it’s too expensive living up in Saint Michaels. And Ria is my daughter, too.”

  She lifted her hands, palms out. “Of course she is. I’m not criticizing.” Even as she said it, she remembered Melvin’s annoying habit of taking everything she said as a criticism. Between him and her temperamental teen granddaughters, she’d been walking on eggshells for the past few years. No wonder she’d felt stressed and in need of comfort eating!

  “If you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” He held out his hand for the key.

  She lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’re seriously telling me to hustle faster serving you?”

  “Don’t get nasty. We’re going to have to get along if we’re both staying here.”

  His words made her feel the ramifications of his checking in. It was true; they’d be in each other’s faces every time they exited their rooms, because they were right across the parking lot from each other.

  “Or I should say, we’re all staying here. Ashley will be joining me.”

  “Is that so.” She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, and glared at him. “Let’s just hope your project goes quickly.”

  “We’re cleaning out Ashley’s place. She’s...she’s going to move in with me.” He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin, at the same time looking a little scared around the eyes.

  “Isn’t that sweet,” she said.

  His face flushed red. “I used to think you were a reasonable person.”

  No, you never really did. But you did used to love me.

  Someone else came into the lobby then, mom in designer duds, dad in golf clothes and a pair of adorable twins who looked like they could be in a magazine. The little girls ran immediately to the large, old-fashioned dollhouse Ria had set up on one end of the lobby.

  Rich people—and just as Julie predicted inside, Melvin stopped being a jerk. “Cute kids,” he said with a wide smile to the man. “I’m just finishing up here.”

  “No hurry, no hurry.”

  He smiled at the couple, ducked his head at the husband and left.

  Julie watched him go. So handsome. So confused.

  The truth settled into her very bones: she was better off without him. Her days were easier, less fraught. She could move comfortably through her own life.

  The awareness nudged at her while she checked the next couple of families in and described the nearby attractions and restaurants.

  She didn’t want him back, even though the idea of him having a young, pregnant live-in girlfriend—actually, wife, once he got around to marrying the poor child—scratched at her like an itchy tag in a new shirt.

  Mostly, she realized, that had to do with what people would think. They’d think Melvin had dumped her for a newer model, which in essence he had, despite his initial vague claims about not wanting to be married. Part of her effort to get him back had been about saving face. She wanted to be the one to leave him, not the reverse.

  She blew out a breath. Even though she was moving on in her life now, was happier than she’d been in a long time, it wouldn’t be easy to have her ex-husband staying at the same motel as she was. With his new squeeze.

  She was going to be facing that reality all day, every day.

  * * *

  AS ERICA AND Trey pulled up to the nicest restaurant in Pleasant Shores, Erica sucked in a breath.

  She was on an actual date with Trey. Wow.

  She was dressed up, wearing a floral summery dress with a full skirt that swirled around her knees, and high-heeled sandals that made her as tall as Trey’s chin.

  All the better to kiss him.

  No. This date wasn’t about kissing. She’d agreed to come so that she could tell him the truth about herself. It was high time, since his stint in the Healing Heroes program wouldn’t go on much longer. She had to do it, had to see how he reacted. Had to give a stab at opening herself up to love.

  He’d been so, so good lately. When Amber had gotten sick, he’d acted like a boyfriend, like it was his job and his duty to help, and he’d brushed off her thanks. Then he’d been so helpful with the kids, especially with LJ. The boy might have run away, and certainly would have had a harder time reintegrating with the group, without Trey. When the school year had ended on Monday, all of the kids had said goodbye to Trey with what looked like real respect, and LJ had lingered behind for a few minutes to talk, almost missing his bus.

  Now Trey jumped out of the car, opened her door and held it, his eyes dark with appreciation. “Did I tell you how pretty you look?”

  “A couple of times.” She felt her lips curve into a smile.

  “Sorry, but it bears repeating. You should wear dresses more often.” He closed the car door and offered her his arm as they approached the restaurant. “Have you been here before?”

  She shook her head. “Couldn’t afford it. I feel funny about having you take me here. If you need me to help with the check—”

  He turned to her, reached up to put a finger ever so gently at her lips. It was a featherlight touch, but it made her suck in a breath and stop walking.

  He stopped, too, facing her. “I’ve got this,” he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. He pulled her ever so slightly closer. “I asked you out. I’m paying.”

  “O-o-okay.” She could barely breathe. He was going to kiss her.

  She was going to let him.

  Something hit her neck. A fat raindrop. Then another on her arm. She looked up.

  He tugged her closer to the building, under a small awning, and wrapped his arms around her.

  He wanted to hold her. Pure happiness. She snuggled in and, at that point, the hard angles of his body stole her breath. She looked up at him.

  “Kiss me?” he asked with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow. He was asking permission, and how many men were gentlemen enough to do that in this day and age?

  In answer, she stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. But when she was going to leave
it at that, out of nervousness, he caught her chin in his hand and tightened his other arm around her. He made a sound almost like a growl and deepened the kiss.

  Her heart felt like it was going to explode from pounding so fast. His touch was authoritative, his kiss masterful. He knew what he was doing. She didn’t, and she clung to his muscular back, trusting him not to take her anywhere she wasn’t ready to go.

  A huge gust of wind blew over a parking sign beside them. But she didn’t want to stop kissing him.

  He broke off the kiss, looked into her eyes for just a second. “We should go in.”

  “We should.” Her voice sounded breathless. Another gust of wind knocked over a trash can.

  “Come on. It’s gonna pour!” He took her elbow and they ran together to the restaurant’s door as the skies let loose.

  “So much for good hair,” she murmured as he held the door for her.

  He gave his name to the hostess and then turned back to her, tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ear. “You know what I’m going to say. You look pretty. Including your hair.”

  “Thanks.” Again, she felt breathless.

  “This way,” the hostess said, and Erica followed her as she led them to a table overlooking the bay. The clouds were thick overhead and the water choppy, but as they approached the table, a ray of light broke through the clouds near the horizon, illuminating the sky and bay and shining golden on Trey’s face. She sucked in her breath, and a moment later the golden light dimmed. He pulled out her chair for her.

  When she sat down, she leaned forward. “This is going to sound like a weird compliment, but you have the best manners. Where did you learn them?”

  “Not exactly what you’d expect from a guy with my background, huh?”

  “Not what I’d expect from any guy our age. That gentlemanly stuff is a lost art. Most men don’t even learn to hold a door for a woman, let alone pull out a chair. I just wondered who taught you so well.”

  His face relaxed into a smile. “That would be my dad. He wasn’t the best at taking responsibility, taking care of a kid, but he was a big charmer. Always had a lady friend, and he taught me that manners make the world go around. And make the girls come around.” He flashed a look at her that was almost shy. “Is it working?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, it is.”

  And then their eyes met and held and they just stared at each other like smiling fools until the waiter came to take their drink order.

  “Sorry,” Trey said, “we haven’t even looked at the wine list.” He looked at Erica. “Do you have a preference? I’ll order a bottle.”

  “No, really. I’ll have one glass at the most. Your house white,” she added to the waiter. Certainly, she didn’t want Trey to spend the kind of money a bottle of wine would cost here.

  More than that, she didn’t trust herself to stick to her plan of being honest with him about her situation if she had a couple of glasses of wine inside her.

  “You’re sure?” Trey asked, and when she nodded, he grinned up at the waiter. “I’m really more of a beer man, myself. What do you have on draft?”

  That made the waiter smile, and he named off the beers and discussed their merits with Trey. As they spoke, Erica looked out the window, needing to get a little distance from Trey. Talk about charm!

  Lightning flashed across the sky and she winced.

  “Storm warnings are coming true,” the waiter remarked. “It’s a big one moving up the coast, but it’s not going to hit here. Supposed to make landfall up north. So it just adds to the romantic ambience,” he added with a smile. “Here, let me light your lantern.” He produced a long lighter and the small storm globe at their table came to life.

  That brought them closer, somehow; they both leaned in. There were other couples in the restaurant, and one big family group, but everyone’s conversation was muted. Erica and Trey seemed to be in their own little world.

  And it was too romantic. Erica cast about for a nonpersonal topic, hesitant to possibly ruin the evening by bringing up her real agenda right away. “So O’Neil is even more determined to end our program,” she told Trey.

  “Because of LJ?”

  “That’s his latest excuse.”

  “What’s really behind his dislike of the kids?”

  “Mostly,” she said, “it’s that he wants to recruit more of the wealthy students who can pay full tuition. That’s what he was hired to do, when the school expanded.”

  “Is there more?”

  She frowned. “He likes to be in control, and he likes to look good. Our program threatens both of those goals. Because he’s not technically in charge of it, and because he doesn’t know anything about working with troubled kids.”

  “Why did he even agree to it?”

  “He didn’t,” she said. “It’s been part of the school for ages, certainly since I was a kid spending vacations and summers here. That was before all the tourists came. We’re privately run, and we were the place all the local districts sent their problem kids.”

  “What happened?”

  She propped her chin on her hands. “When the wealthier residents started building here, they liked the idea of a school right in town—well, on the edge of town—in walking distance of their homes. The academy was struggling, so we became just a small part of a mainstream private school. Which is nice in a way, because it helps the support kids integrate into the community, but...” She shrugged.

  “But at what cost?” He frowned.

  “Right. If the focus is going entirely toward the mainstream kids, then our program goes. So it’s at the cost of the kids,” she said, then added, “and of my job.”

  He reached out and put his hand over hers, like he knew what that meant to her. “How’s Amber doing?”

  She lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping a little. “They’re still trying to figure out the source of her abdominal pain,” she said. “She’s on some strong painkillers right now.” Her voice choked on the last words and she pressed her lips together. The painkillers were taking her sister—the sharp, witty, edgy sister she knew and loved—away from her.

  He squeezed her hand. “That’s got to be tough.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  A group emerged from a private room at the back of the restaurant, and Erica waved when she saw Mary. Then she realized that Kirk was there, as well, and a couple of her fellow teachers, and Principal O’Neil... Oh. It was the school’s board of directors.

  And they were arguing as they walked out.

  “What’s wrong?” Trey asked.

  “Well...the board just saw us out on a date, for one thing. Not that we’re breaking rules, not now, but... Wow. I wonder if they were meeting to talk about the fate of our program.” She bit her lip, watching the group leave the restaurant. “Could this be the last meeting before they vote? Or did they just now vote?”

  “Hey,” Trey said. “Don’t worry about what you can’t control. You’ve done terrific things at the academy. Take a break tonight.”

  She inhaled and let out her breath and smiled at him. “Good advice,” she said.

  Their drinks came then, and they ordered food, Trey urging her to get an expensive seafood dish rather than the pasta she’d initially ordered. And he was right; she’d only ordered it because it was the cheapest item on the menu, and she really did want to try out one of their seafood specialties, so she finally agreed.

  He was taking care of her, and it had been so long since someone had done that. Not since her mother had gotten sick and she’d become the caregiver, first of her mother, then of Amber. Even when she’d had her own surgery, she’d gotten by with the bare minimum of help from Hannah and then sent her away, hobbling around her apartment, fixing food and washing dishes when she absolutely had to.

  To have someone look at her needs fir
st, try to help her rather than asking her to help them, was not just a big relief; it was intoxicating. If only she could be open to it, revel in it, enjoy it.

  But the cost was being close to Trey, and that wouldn’t work. Not for long; not in the end.

  Would it?

  Trey seemed to sense that her mood was slipping again and began to talk about lighter subjects, asking her about her childhood spending time here at the shore, about her mother, about how she’d gotten into teaching. Then they talked about his father, how Trey didn’t see him much anymore, since he loved to travel, finding jobs where he could, living a carefree and pretty wild lifestyle. He dropped by to see Trey every now and then. His last visit, when he’d come to the school, had been a good one.

  Watching his face, Erica was impressed that he didn’t seem to be bitter about his father’s failings, but accepted him as he was.

  The restaurant was quieter now, and the storm outside made their little circle of light seem warmer, more protected.

  Their meals came, and Erica reveled in the buttery explosion of taste that was the Maryland rockfish topped with some kind of delicious crabmeat mixture. They enjoyed their food in companionable silence, watching the clouds thicken and the rain wax and wane.

  When Trey insisted that they share a chocolate dessert, Erica didn’t even protest. She just savored the velvety sensuousness of the chocolate decadence cake, melting on her tongue, and smiled at him when he play-fought her with his fork for the last bite.

  When he smiled back, he was so handsome that her mouth went dry.

  Once they’d finished, Trey pushed the dish out of the way and reached forward to take both of her hands. “I have some dreams,” he said. “Do you mind if I share them with you?”

  Erica’s heart began a steady, dull pounding, because of the way he was looking at her. “What kind of dreams?” she managed to ask.

  “I really want to marry and start a family,” he said. “I want a do-over on my childhood. A couple of kids at least.”

  What was he saying? Was he actually asking her to...? And then the meaning of his words slammed into Erica. Children were the one thing she couldn’t give him.