Joe reached down and stroked Boris’s head. The sun had long set, and the stars were out in force. The cool breeze ruffled Boris’s fur. His ears perked up at every seagull call and his tail thumped in a steady rhythm against the wooden deck.
His mother set the puzzle aside and went into the house, the wooden screen door snapping closed behind her. She came out in a second with a container in her hand—one he knew held her family’s sauce recipe, handed down from generation to generation from Italy. He knew because there was always some in the freezer, just in case.
He never knew what the “just in case” his mother always talked about was, but it dawned on him what it might be now.
She held out the container and nodded her head in the direction of Jen’s house.
“Take it down there. They might be hungry.”
“Mom, I suspect they might just be drinking wine and catching up. I don’t want to interrupt.”
His mother stiffened a bit and squared her shoulders. “Are you implying that your great-great-grandmother’s sauce is an interruption?”
He noticed her sly smile before she turned back toward her crossword puzzle. He stood and stretched, reaching for Boris’s leash, which had the dog at his knee in a flash.
“I guess I could take Boris for another walk. He doesn’t seem quite tired enough yet.”
His mother smiled and picked up her crossword puzzle, leaning back in her chair.
He started down the steps, turning back to his mother before he headed to the beach.
“Thanks, Mom. I know you’re trying to help. And the word you’re looking for is ‘analogy’.”
“Hm, you’re right. Maybe you’d better stay after all,” she said, peering over her reading glasses.
“Save the hard ones for me. I’ll be back shortly, I’m sure.”
Jen said goodbye to Carrie after offering to walk her home. Carrie waved her off and said she knew her way home just fine, thank you very much. Carrie patted Daisy on the head and said, “See you guys later,” before she disappeared up the boardwalk.
Jen stood in the kitchen and stretched. Faith popped her head out of the stairwell and said, “I think I’m going to head up to the loft. Long day. Maybe check my email, see if there’s anything from Maggy. I’ll see you tomorrow. ”
“Night,” Jen said, and she laughed as Faith poured herself another small glass of wine to take with her, wiggling her eyebrows as she headed up the stairs.
A loud creak stopped Faith in her tracks. She took a step back and gingerly put her foot on the step in question. It creaked again, and a chunk of the wood popped out, rolling down the stairs.
Daisy made straight for it, grabbing it in her mouth like a prize.
“Oops. Sorry,” Faith said. She pulled a face to go along with her apology, and Jen took in a deep sigh.
“I guess we should add that to the list, too. Be careful on your way up. We can check out all the stairs in the morning.”
Faith nodded and climbed the stairs slowly, her hand sliding gingerly up the rail.
Jen re-filled the bowls with food and water for Daisy, and she looked around for the puppy. She probably needed to go outside before she went to bed. The last thing she needed was doggy piddles around the living room, even if the carpet was horrible and had seen better days.
The puppy hopped off the couch when Jen called her—tomorrow she’d have to start teaching her not to get on the furniture. Jen poured herself a small glass of wine and opened the door, sitting on the stoop as she pointed Daisy to the small patch of grass inside the white picket fence. While Daisy sniffed around, Jen sipped her wine. She leaned back, stars twinkling overhead like sparks of steel on black velvet, and let out a contented sigh.
“You always did love it here, didn’t you?” she heard from beyond the gate. It was pretty dark with no moon, but she recognized Joe’s voice instantly.
She leaned forward and smiled as he came into view under the streetlamp.
“Yes, this is true. My favorite place on Earth, I think.”
He nodded and waved at Daisy.
“Mind some company for a minute? We didn’t really get to have a proper conversation on the beach.”
Jen stood, glad that he seemed to be in a friendlier mood. They’d all been such good friends once. She really didn’t want to see him unhappy—and now he’d had his own challenges.
“Of course. Come on in. I’ll grab you a beer.”
He nodded in thanks and opened the creaky gate, raising his eyebrows. He let Boris off the leash to go play with Daisy and gratefully accepted the beer that Jen held out, exchanging it for the sauce his mom had sent.
“Your mom’s sauce?” Jen’s eyebrows rose in appreciation. “Wow, thanks.”
Joe nodded and smiled before looking back at the creaky gate and up at the awning with a hole in it.
“Looks like the old house could use a good once-over,” he said. He moved a brick to the side that had come out of the step. “Or maybe a ten times over.”
“Apparently. I haven’t been for a while, too busy with Max’s graduation. I knew there were big storms this year, but nobody mentioned we needed to do so much repair.”
Joe stared at Jen and blinked several times. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “Max graduated? From college?”
Jen nodded with a big smile. “Yes, with honors. He just left for a great internship in Boston. Which is why I have his new puppy, Daisy. She wasn’t welcome.”
Joe looked from Jen to Daisy, and while she wondered what had made him so quiet, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out.
“I…I can’t believe he graduated. I’m sorry I missed it. Seems like just yesterday he was three…” he said, his voice trailing off.
Jen knew exactly what he meant. Sitting here on the stoop with Joe, and all the memories that had flooded her when she was in the house, it did seem like it was just yesterday that they were all hanging out together, just teenagers.
She felt a little overwhelmed, too, and couldn’t think of a thing to say that made sense. She was grateful when Joe broke the silence, avoiding things neither of them were prepared to discuss.
“Wind and weather are hard on beach houses, that’s true,” Joe said. “I haven’t been at my mom’s long, but there is the requisite list on the refrigerator that I’ll need to get to as well. You’re in good company.”
Jen laughed and nodded.
They sat on the stoop and looked up as the stars continued to multiply in the black sky, the warm breeze making Jen feel like no time had passed at all—but, of course, it had.
“The girls are gone already? I was hoping to say hello and catch up a little bit. I’m afraid I was taken a bit off guard running into you guys on the beach, and I—I guess I didn’t quite know what to say. It’s awkward to talk about somebody dying, you know? And with divorce on top of that—well, it makes everybody uncomfortable.”
Jen actually laughed and said, “Um, yes, I know. I know exactly.”
He turned toward her with a horrified look on his face—again.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Gosh.”
He dropped his forehead into his hand, his elbow resting on his knee.
Jen laughed again. “Don’t be sorry. It happens. A lot.”
She patted his knee, hoping he’d lighten up a little bit. The fact of the matter was that all of this…all the old memories, all the time, it was gone. Over. And they might as well just move on.
And it seemed to work. He looked at her and smiled.
“Thanks for that. It’s just everybody gets so—I don’t know, stressed. It’s been a while since Claudia and I divorced, and I’m really okay. Claudia and I had a good life before everything went south. It’s really all right. And then my dad—”
Jen smiled at him—he really did seem okay.
“It gets easier with time.”
Joe nodded and turned to look at Jen. “I see that. You look great. And my mom’s caught me up a littl
e bit, but I’d sure like to know how you are. I was sorry to hear about your mom passing, too. Shoot, there I go again.”
Jen laughed and took a sip of wine. “Seems like there’s no avoiding it. And I could say the same about your dad.”
They both chuckled and nodded.
“So, how about everybody else? The boys—how are Michael and Max? Beyond the graduation. Your brother, Greg. His kids. Your dad. Everybody good?” he asked, holding up both hands with his fingers crossed.
“Good job with that.” She smiled as she pointed at his crossed fingers. “You’re in luck. Everybody’s fine. Michael is married, Max just graduated from college, as you know, and Greg is—well, Greg is Greg.”
Joe leaned back against the house and stretched his legs, his arms crossed. “Yes, I remember. Some things never change?”
Jen shook her head. “No, they don’t. I don’t see them much. Even less lately.”
Joe let out a slow whistle. “Maybe for the best.”
“Maybe,” Jen replied with a nod. “I’m not really sure what’s up. They usually still come out at least once a summer to stay here, but this year they’re not.”
Joe took the last sip of his beer. “No?”
“No. Kind of strange, but Carrie and Faith and I are thrilled we get it all to ourselves for the summer. Faith has a part time teaching job, but will be here every weekend. I have a couple of design jobs to do for friends, but they should be easy. Carrie’s cutting back to summer hours at her clinic, and we plan to kayak and walk—just relax. Oh, and fix up the house a little bit. Another beer?”
Joe held up his empty bottle and nodded. Jen reached in the kitchen and grabbed him another one.
“I was wondering about that. If Greg and Sylvia aren’t using it, you think they might want to sell the place? How would that work?”
Jen took in a deep breath. “I don’t think anybody cares about it much. At least not right now. It’s not costing them anything. Greg comes, but even that’s not very often. They won’t green-light any repairs, though, and as you can tell from the gate, the list of things that need fixing is pretty long. I haven’t even had the chance to take a look around yet, but plan to first thing in the morning. Then Faith and I might go fabric shopping. I can pop for some new curtains, and nobody will be the wiser. And so far, nobody’s said a word about selling, and I hope to keep it that way.”
Joe leaned forward and peered in the windows. “Oh, wow, still the same orange and green ones?”
“Yep. Vintage 1970s. Only the best. And the shag carpet, too.”
“Good grief. Well, I suppose it’s practical, if not exactly appealing.”
Jen tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Hey, watch it. I love this place. I can’t even imagine it with a total makeover. It would lose all its charm.”
“Okay, whatever you say,” Joe said as he snapped his fingers, and Boris came right over and sat at his feet.
“Wow, I think I might need you to be the puppy whisperer with Daisy. She doesn’t know a thing. I’m not even sure she’s housebroken,” Jen said, then filled him in on how Daisy was even there to begin with.
Joe stood and stretched before clipping the leash to Boris’s collar. “At your service, ma’am. And I’m happy to help with the house if you need me to. You know where to find me. My mom would be thrilled to see you, too. Stop by sometime.”
“I will. Please tell her hello for me, and thank her for the sauce. It’s like gold, so I’m especially grateful.” She hadn’t seen Joe’s mom for years, and it would be nice to. “Thanks for stopping by,” Jen said.
They both stopped at the faint sound of fireworks in the distance. They shared a quick glance and smiled.
“Disneyland fireworks. Like clockwork.”
Joe nodded. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t stay up there long enough to watch from the deck. I find myself watching as much as I can.”
Jen smiled. “We had an extra long day and I guess we forgot. We’ll try to make it tomorrow.”
“Remember all those times when we all snuck out and watched them from the roof? Allen was always game for that. And I think my dad actually knew anyway, even though he never said so.”
Jen looked in the direction of the sound. “I do remember. I was always afraid we’d get caught but we never did.”
Joe shook his head. “There’s no way the parents didn’t know what we were doing. Maybe they just wanted to let us see the magic anyway.”
“Could be. So many memories like that,” Jen said, looking slowly back at the house.
“Yeah. Lots of memories,” Joe said as he headed toward the beach, and he waved just before he and Boris disappeared around the corner.
“All right, Daisy,” Jen said as she opened the door for the new puppy. “Guess it’s just you and me. Let’s go get comfy and get some rest. We’ve got the whole summer ahead of us.”
Chapter Eight
Jen slept like a log, the breeze billowing through the open windows and the waves lapping at the shore. Daisy had slept all night long, but as soon as the sun began to stream in, Daisy was up, too. Jen woke to a panting dog right in her face and knew from experience that it was in everybody’s best interest for her to take the dog out right away.
They’d been at the beach house for almost a week, and they’d only had two accidents which weren’t really Daisy’s fault at all, as Jen hadn’t taken her out as regularly as she could have. Overall, she’d been a good influence, forcing regular walks on the beach morning and evening. Jen felt like she was even getting in a little better shape—walking on sand was tough on the legs, and she’d definitely felt it.
She checked the gate to make sure it was secure and let Daisy find her way around the patio to do what she needed to do. She waved at Mrs. Grover, who was looking out of her window, and Jen smiled when the older lady looked startled that Jen could see her. Jen was sure that she thought she was invisible, but there was no way to miss the twitching curtains. There’d been quite a bit of activity at the house the past few days, so Jen wasn’t surprised she’d be curious.
When she got back with Daisy, she glanced at her phone and groaned. She’d left the phone on the counter, and her father had called while she was gone. They’d been playing phone tag for days, and while Jen knew she should call him back, she just didn’t want to. So she didn’t.
She hadn’t heard Faith stir yet, and glancing at the clock, Jen realized she might not see her friend for a while as she’d be leaving soon to go set up her classroom for the start of summer school. At least it would only be for a day, then she’d be back before summer school started in earnest.
She started the coffee, turned on the oven and took out the batter she’d made the night before for Nana’s muffins. She’d called the basic recipe her “endless” muffins—a delicious white muffin base and she was always changing what she added to it. One day, it would be blueberries, another chocolate chips. Jen’s personal favorite was cinnamon with crumbly topping, which was what she was making today.
Grabbing Nana’s apron, she looped it over her neck and tied it behind her. Hands of Gold, it said in embroidery, and it was one of the things she remembered most about her grandmother—anything she cooked was fantastic, and she never cooked without her apron. Jen didn’t think she was quite as good, as it was a pretty high bar, but when she’d found Nana’s muffin recipe while she and Faith were going through every inch of the house, she thought she’d give it a try.
As she sipped her coffee, she flipped through the two pages of things she, Faith and Carrie had found that they needed to do at the house. They’d searched every square inch. Jen had no idea how things had gotten so bad, but she guessed Joe was right. Wind, rain, sun and sand were tough on houses, especially wooden ones. And after years of her family objecting to repairs, it had caught up with them.
She looked up as Faith descended the steep, narrow stairs, both hands on the railing. They’d both learned from the first night that they were a good thing to use if you
wanted to make it all the way down still on your feet.
Faith yawned and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“How’s the list coming? Need any help?”
Jen pushed the legal pad in Faith’s direction and swept her hand through her hair.
“In addition to the actual things we really need to fix, I listed out the stuff we’d need to buy for each project. The total has too many numbers in it.”
Faith’s eyebrows rose and she reached for her reading glasses. She whistled slowly when she took a look at the total.
“That’s not very good. I mean, really not very good at all.”
Jen nodded. “No kidding. And that’s just fixing things that are already broken. It’d be more if we fixed things that were also ready to break.”
Jen pulled on the oven mitts with seahorses embroidered on them and took the muffins out of the oven. She set them on the counter beside a stick of butter and sat back down, her chin resting on her hands.
“What are all these?” Faith waved a stack of something she’d picked up from the counter.
“What are what?” Jen replied as she reached for napkins and set them on the table.
“All these postcards. Did you get stuck in a chain mail thing again?”
Jen laughed. “No. I don’t know what they are. I got the mail, but I didn’t look at anything.”
Faith flipped through them. “They’re all from realtors, wanting to represent you with the sale of the house. Man, there are a ton.”
“What?”
Jen pulled off the oven mitts and took the stack of postcards Faith held out to her. She flipped through them and groaned.
“Oh, my gosh. Look at these. These are some of the realtors who have signs everywhere down here. Look at this one—Dirk Crabtree. What a name.”
Faith took a look at the postcard. “Kind of handsome, though, don’t you think?”
“What? I didn’t even notice. I’m just glad Greg and my dad didn’t see those. That wouldn’t work in our favor.”
Newport Harbor House Page 4
