The Path to Sunshine Cove

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Rachel laughed and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re using a basketball analogy.”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Jess said again.

  Her sister rose and hugged her again. It felt so much like the old days, the Clayton sisters against the world, that Jess’s throat thickened and she almost started crying, too.

  “Thank you. I came here to apologize for the way I ruined your party and the terrible things I said.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” Jess assured her. “It was a wonderful party. I’ve never seen such a gorgeous birthday cake. I’ll never forget all the trouble you went to in order to make it special for me.”

  “We should get together again before you go home. What do you think about driving up to the Redwoods? It’s not that far.”

  “I would like that. I’m probably leaving Monday. Maybe we could go Sunday.”

  Rachel’s face fell. “I wish you could stay longer.”

  “I do, too,” she said, and was slightly shocked to realize she meant it.

  “Maybe we could meet up somewhere during the summer,” Jess suggested on a whim, without really thinking it through. “In late June, I’ve got two jobs in a row lined up in the San Diego area. The kids might like to come down and enjoy Southern California. I have a week on either end. Maybe we could find a vacation rental together and do all the touristy stuff. Legoland, the San Diego Zoo, Disneyland, Universal Studios. I don’t know if Cody could take the whole week away from work, but maybe he could fly down for a few days.”

  It wasn’t her idea of a relaxing vacation, but it would be fun to spend more time with her nieces and Silas, and she knew planning the trip would be Rachel’s idea of paradise.

  As she expected, her sister immediately lit up. “That would be fantastic! Oh, Jess. I would love it. Especially being with you.”

  “Good. Talk to Cody and let me know.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  Rachel hugged her tightly and Jess closed her eyes, feeling as if a small bruised corner of her heart had begun to heal.

  “I love you, Jessica Marie,” her sister said.

  She had to smile. How long had it been since someone called her by her full name? “And I love you, Rachel Elizabeth. You’re going to be okay.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know you will. You called me a badass. As far as I’m concerned, what you’re doing as a mom to those three precious kids requires next-level badassery.”

  Rachel laughed. “I might have to make a bumper sticker out of that. Motherhood. Next-level Badassery.”

  “It’s got a ring.”

  Rachel smiled, waved at her and climbed into her minivan, looking a hundred times better than she had when she showed up.

  As she watched her drive away, Jess felt as if they had turned a corner in their relationship. She and Rachel had been pulled apart by life and circumstances. She wanted to think maybe this time in Cape Sanctuary had helped them begin the process of finding their way back together.

  Now on to her next challenge: persuading Eleanor to let Jess tackle what the other woman had actually hired her to do.

  32

  Rachel

  As Rachel drove away from Whitaker House, the entire day seemed more beautiful, somehow. The sun seemed to shine more vividly on the water and the sky was a pure porcelain blue, with only a few puffy clouds above the mountains to the east.

  On impulse, Rachel pulled into one of her favorite spots in Cape Sanctuary, a pull-out along the cliffs overlooking the water and downtown.

  She didn’t do this enough. She was always rushing off somewhere and didn’t take time to stop and breathe and think.

  Maybe it was the good hard cry that, like the rain of the night before, had cleansed the sadness out of her system, leaving room for her to remember the joy. She felt a renewed sense of optimism about so many things.

  She loved and admired her sister. The strain between them over these past years had felt like another loss. That Jess had suggested a trip together, especially one with a theme park itinerary Rachel knew perfectly well her sister would never choose on her own, meant the world.

  It would be so much fun to spend that time with her sister. Rachel loved planning trips and couldn’t wait to get started on this one, though she planned to factor in plenty of downtime for all of them. Pool time at the hotel, walks along the beach for just her and Jess to talk.

  She couldn’t wait.

  How would Silas do on a trip like that? She would do everything in her power to make sure he had a good time. Jess, Cody and the girls would help. All the pressure didn’t need to rest on her shoulders alone.

  She had to remember that lesson, moving forward. Yes, Silas still faced an uncertain journey. But Jess had been right. She and Cody made an excellent team. She had to remember they were in this together, fighting to give their son the best possible future.

  She stepped outside her van, letting the sea air wash through her and the morning sun warm her shoulders.

  She loved the life she had created here. Why did she allow herself to get so caught up in the day-to-day rush that she forgot? She should make a date with herself monthly to come right here to this spot to recalibrate her soul.

  After a few more deep breaths, she felt more refreshed than she had in months. She even sang along to the car stereo as she drove through town.

  When she arrived home, the peace of the morning was broken by hammering, coming from the backyard. She followed the sound around the house and had to stop short.

  Apparently, Cody had decided to use his limited free time to finish the shutters on the kids’ playhouse, a job they had talked about a few days earlier. He was wearing his tool belt, the one she always told him looked sexy.

  And next to him was Silas, wearing an adorable little matching tool belt she hadn’t seen before.

  Her heart seemed to melt. Cody must have bought it for Silas, without telling her, just as he had bought one for each of the girls when they were about this age.

  “Okay, it’s your turn to hammer again,” Cody was telling their son. “I’ve got a nail started for you right there. Here you go.”

  Silas grabbed the child-size hammer with both hands and started whacking at the nail his father had pointed out. He missed more times than he made contact with the nail, leaving divots in the soft pine, but Cody didn’t seem to care. He just beamed at the boy, sunlight gleaming off the lighter strands in his hair.

  “That’s the way. Good job, kiddo. Keep going.”

  Silas looked at his father with all the trust in the world and continued hammering with far more enthusiasm than skill.

  “That was our last one,” Cody said. “Look how nice they look. Now we just have to clean up before Mommy gets back.”

  “Mama,” Silas said. He had spotted Rachel before his father did and came toward her, hammer still in his hand.

  “I’ll take this,” Cody said quickly, grabbing it away.

  He gave Rachel that sheepish smile that made her insides quiver.

  She loved this man. The man who had patiently and lovingly taught his toddler son with autism to use a hammer was the same one who had helped a fourteen-year-old girl learn how to shoot free throws so she wouldn’t embarrass herself at a new school.

  He was the best husband and father she could ever wish to find and she loved him with all her heart.

  She picked up Silas and went to Cody. With her free hand, she touched his face and then kissed her husband with all the fierce tenderness burning through her.

  “Down,” Silas said, using yet another new word. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan of his parents’ public displays of affection. She lowered him and he immediately went to his sandbox and started playing with his trucks, which left her free to kiss Cody again, this one more lingering and tender.

  “What was th
at for?” Cody somehow managed to look both confused and aroused.

  “Because you’re amazing. Because I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Because I love you more than life itself.”

  His expression blazed with heat and an answering tenderness that slid through her like healing balm. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her with so much love that Rachel felt tears rise again.

  These were happy tears. Cleansing tears. How had she forgotten how much safety and peace she found in her husband’s arms?

  “Any chance your mom could watch Silas for an hour or so?”

  He looked a little dazed. “Probably. Why?”

  “Oh, I’m sure we could find something to do.”

  “I’ll check.” He stepped away and whipped out his phone so quickly she almost laughed.

  He texted his mother and she responded almost instantly.

  “She said she would love to watch him. She didn’t ask why.”

  “Tell her I need your help with a project that requires both of our undivided attention.”

  He grinned, looking so much like the sixteen-year-old boy she fell in love with that everything inside her seemed to sigh with happiness.

  While he and Silas left, Rachel went inside to shower and change into some sexy lingerie she bought a long time ago and hadn’t worn yet.

  This was an important part of their life together and both of them had neglected each other for too long.

  Her joy seemed to bubble over. She loved her husband. She loved their children, she loved their home, she loved the life they were building together.

  Like the children’s playhouse that now had hammer-sized indentations on the shutters, it might not be Instagram perfect.

  But it was as close to it as she could ever need.

  33

  Jess

  “We’ve cleaned out every other space in the house, Eleanor. I’ll be leaving in only a few days so I can move on to my next job.”

  The older woman’s mouth drooped. “Oh, don’t remind me. I don’t want you to go. I have so loved having you here.”

  “I’m sorry. You know I can’t stay here indefinitely, though.”

  “I know. You have other obligations. You’re a busy woman.”

  This was Friday. If she and Eleanor worked hard that day and Saturday, they could finish. That would give her Sunday to spend with Rachel, Cody and the kids before she drove south Monday.

  Technically, her next job wasn’t scheduled to start until a week from Monday, but she had planned to spend a few days at her long-neglected apartment, catching up on paperwork and doing some strategic planning with Yvette.

  They needed to make a decision about adding another person to their team. She and Yvette had more work than the two of them could handle and she hated turning down clients.

  That was a worry for another day. Right now, she needed to focus on finishing this job.

  “Eleanor. Today’s the day. We’ve put it off long enough. It’s time to start going through Jack’s clothing.”

  She tried to use the gentlest tone she could manage, but Eleanor still tensed.

  “Today? I don’t know if I’m up to it today.”

  Jess frowned. “That is your decision, of course. You can leave things like they are, with his things taking up half your closet and an entire chest of drawers. If you want my help, I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

  Eleanor pressed a hand to her heart, as if the gesture could ease the ache there at missing her husband. “I know. It’s just so hard to think about boxing up his things for the last time. Not being able to stand in the closet and smell him. It makes everything feel so...final.”

  “I understand. We don’t have to do it at all. I told you that. If you would rather tackle the job on your own once I’m gone, that’s totally fine. It’s your choice.”

  Eleanor sighed. “Without you to push me, I would probably leave his clothes in there forever.”

  “If that would make you happy, there’s nothing wrong with keeping his things close to you.”

  Eleanor gazed off into space, her lined face etched with vast grief. After a moment, she shook her head. “No. It’s only his clothing. It’s not him. I won’t forget him. I don’t need some dusty old sweaters to remind me how much I miss my husband. He’s with me constantly, right here.”

  Again, she pressed her heart.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Let’s do it. Though I confess, I’m not sure I can watch.”

  “Then you don’t have to,” Jess declared. “As you and Nate have already taken out the things you want to keep, the rest is simply sorting through what should go to the charity shop and what they likely won’t take. It shouldn’t take long at all. Why don’t you go to your craft room and work on your knitting and watch the sea? I think another storm might be coming and I know how much you enjoy watching them.”

  Eleanor looked tempted, then shook her head. “I can’t abandon you like that.”

  In some respects, the job would be easier, the decisions more clear-cut if she didn’t have Eleanor standing over her shoulder.

  “I don’t mind. But you could also sit in your chair by the window there and knit. You still would have a view and could offer input if I need help. But that way you wouldn’t have to be as hands-on.”

  “That would work.”

  Eleanor left the room. When she didn’t return immediately, Jess started folding up clothing and sorting items into piles. Some for the charity shop, some for a consignment store Yvette liked to use and a few for the rag pile.

  When Eleanor returned after about fifteen minutes, she carried her knitting bag and her eyes appeared suspiciously red-rimmed.

  Oh, poor dear. Eleanor was torn between needing to move forward with her life and wanting to hold tight to the past and the memories and these tangible things that represented Jack Whitaker’s life.

  If she died, who would mourn her like this? Rachel would miss her, certainly. And Yvette would be sad, as well. But not with this bone-deep grief.

  Jess wasn’t that important to anyone.

  A sobering thought the day after her thirtieth birthday.

  “Which do you prefer? Being closer to the closet so you can see what I’m doing or sitting out here by the window?”

  “Closer to you, I think.”

  Jess moved Eleanor’s favorite ergonomic recliner and footrest from its usual spot looking out to sea to the other side of her bed. Fortunately, it wasn’t heavy. “There you go.”

  “Oh, thank you, my dear. You’re so thoughtful.”

  She didn’t necessarily agree but appreciated Eleanor’s opinion.

  They slowly worked their way through Jack’s side of the closet. Like his book collection, Jack had many items of clothing, some more worn than others. He didn’t seem to have discarded many things over the years. The wardrobe spanned several different decades.

  After a few hours of work, they still had most of the large walk-in closet to go.

  Jess pulled out a suit with wide pinstripes and even wider lapels. “Wow. This is very cool. This looks like it’s from the ’40s.”

  “That suit belonged to Jack’s father, who was quite a dapper fellow in his day. Jack couldn’t part with it, though I begged him. He said it was a part of his father, one of the few he had left.”

  She gave a distant sort of smile. “They were much the same size and Jack would wear that for certain occasions. He looked great it in, let me tell you. So handsome. Like a more distinguished James Dean. One year for Halloween he wore it and dressed like a gangster. I went as his moll. I had the whole fancy outfit, including a fake derringer in my garter.”

  Jess had to smile. “I wish I could have seen that.”

  “I’ve got pictures somewhere. Maybe I’ll look through them this afternoon and see if I can find o
ne. We were something.”

  “I bet.”

  Eleanor pressed a hand to her chest again, which made Jess frown. Did the other woman have any idea how often she did that? Was it only because of her emotional heartache or was something physical going on?

  “I used to love to go out dancing with Jack. There was a place down the coast that had live music—the big band stuff, not rock and roll, though we liked that, too. We used to dance all night. That was before our Nathaniel came along, of course. He was such a miracle that I didn’t like to leave him, even for an evening, especially at first.”

  “A miracle?” She had to ask.

  “Completely. We tried for ten years to have a child. It was our greatest sorrow. Jack and I were so happy together and we knew a child would only add to our joy.”

  Jess listened, fascinated, while she folded and boxed clothing they had sorted into piles.

  “I had three miscarriages before Nathaniel came along and also one late-term miscarriage that was considered a stillbirth. I lost a baby girl at twenty-four weeks. She was perfectly formed in every way and doctors never knew why she didn’t survive. We named her Jennifer.”

  “Oh, Eleanor. I’m so sorry.”

  This woman had endured so much sorrow and loss in her life, yet she was still warm and gracious to those within her orbit. She made Jess feel small and petty in comparison.

  “Doctors warned us I shouldn’t get pregnant again, that it would probably end the same way.” She continued knitting, not breaking the flow of her work while she spoke. “Jack didn’t want to try again. He wanted to start the process of adopting and I finally agreed. I knew I would love any child, whether or not I gave birth to him or her. We were only just beginning to fill out the paperwork and had decided to stop trying ourselves to get pregnant.”

  She chuckled. “Would you believe that after all those years of infertility, the minute we stopped trying, I got pregnant within the month?”

  “Wow. That’s amazing!”

  “Right? Wouldn’t you call that a miracle? And the pregnancy was easy the entire nine months. No morning sickness, no early contractions. He was just a joyful baby.”