by Kay Correll
Wish Upon A Shell
Kay Correll
Rose Quartz Press
Contents
Lighthouse Point ~ The Series
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Also by Kay Correll
Series Reading Order
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 Kay Correll
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental
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Published by Rose Quartz Press
111416
ISBN: 978-0-9904822-9-1
Is it wrong to dedicate a book to a place? Well, I’m dedicating this book to Anna Maria Island and the Southern gulf coast of Florida. Walking along those shores brings me so much happiness and restores my soul.
Lighthouse Point ~ The Series
Wish Upon a Shell ~ One
Wedding at the Beach ~ Two (coming winter 2017)
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Find out about all my books, including the Comfort Crossing Series, at my website book page.
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Chapter 1
Tally had a love-hate relationship with the sea. Today it bordered more on the liked-quite-a-bit side of the scale. She stood on the beach at Lighthouse Point on Belle Island. The waves raced up the gentle slope of sand and lapped at her bare feet. This had to be her favorite spot, especially in the early morning hours when all she would pass was an occasional jogger or shell collector. The lighthouse was no longer a functioning lighthouse, but it continued to stand regally over the Florida beach, protecting the inhabitants of the island.
The sky slowly splashed into a wash of muted colors, as if someone had tossed watercolors across the horizon. She reached down and scooped up a handful of dry sand, letting the grains sift slowly through her fingers and into the waves. A lone shell tumbled around her feet, taunting her, but she refused to bend over and pick it up. Town legend held that by throwing a shell into the ocean and making a wish at Lighthouse Point, the wish would come true. Tally knew that whole town lore was a lie, a lie she no longer fell for. Not that she hadn’t used that very legend twenty-five years ago when she named her restaurant Magic Cafe. But that had been when she was young and still foolishly believed in all that nonsense.
A lone blue heron flew past her. She watched as it flapped its wings in a rhythmic motion, continuing down the beach until she lost it in the distance. The breeze tossed her gray-sprinkled hair this way and that. The gray she never considered coloring back to its original chestnut brown, there was no time for such frivolities.
She glanced at her watch. It was time to head back to the cafe. It might not open until eleven, but she had a ton of work to do each morning before she unlocked the doors. Plus, this was her monthly get-together with her friends Susan and Julie, a date that was never broken. Her friends would come by for a late lunch and they’d chat and catch up on each other’s busy lives. It was a precious few hours each month they would grab out of their single businesswomen lives and just relax.
Tally took one last look out into the ocean and watched the gentle waves roll in, lost in thoughts and memories and her ever-ebbing relationship with the sea. She turned and headed down the beach towards the cafe.
* * *
Julie Farmington slammed the door to the battered delivery truck. An hour for deliveries, then back to The Sweet Shoppe to open it by seven. She had a girl who helped her in the shop in the mornings, but the girl was kind of hit and miss on showing up. Julie hopped this morning was a hit, not a miss.
A light breeze blew in from the gulf, cooling her flushed face. Owning a bakery wasn’t for sissies. She’d already been up for two hours helping her cook, Nancy, with the morning baking and loading up the morning orders. She snatched off the cap she wore for baking, and her long brown hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She reached up and twisted it into a loose knot.
She swung into the van, glancing at the tear in the vinyl seat and wondering if she should duct tape it before it split all the way across. It was just one more thing on her already too long to-do list.
The van ground to life, and she headed towards Belle Island Inn with their daily order. She pulled up to the side door of the quaint inn, and her friend Susan hurried out of the propped-open kitchen door. “There you are. Let me help you.” Susan walked to the back of the van and tugged open the door. “You coming to Tally’s later this afternoon?”
“I will. Might be late if Chrissy doesn’t show up.”
“We’ve got to find you a more responsible worker.” Susan reached for a tray of bread and pastries.
“Once school is out, I’ll have more of choice. Always hard to find workers during the school year.”
“Tell me about it. I just fired a boy who was astounded it wasn’t okay for him to miss two days in a row without calling, then showed up to work like nothing happened. Kids these days.” Her friend laughed. “I sound like an old lady.”
Her friend was anything but an old lady. Susan might be over fifteen years Julie’s senior, but she had the energy of ten people and worked tirelessly trying to keep Belle Island Inn afloat. Julie followed Susan into the kitchen and placed her armload of boxes on the counter. Susan’s cook bustled in the kitchen getting ready for their breakfast crowd. Julie lifted a hand in greeting, then turned. “I’d better run. I’ll see you later at Tally’s.”
Susan nodded and started unpacking the tray of baked goods. “We’ll wait for you if you’re late.”
Julie headed back to the van, glancing at her watch. She was cutting it close today. She made her regular morning delivery to Magic Cafe, but Tally wasn’t there yet. She was probably off on her morning walk. Her friend did love her daily jaunt, only the very worst weather could keep her off the beach.
Julie made a delivery to Good Luck Mart by the bridge. She pulled into the parking lot behind The Sweet Shoppe with five minutes to spare.
“I’ve got the coffee started, but no helper today. Again. I’ll help at the counter as much as I can.”
“Thanks, Nancy.” Julie headed to the front door, flipped the sign to open, and twisted the lock with a metallic click. She smiled at Dan Smith as he walked into the shop, always her first customer of the day.
“You got those blueberry muffins today?”
“I do. I’ll get you one and your coffee.”
“Thanks, Julie.” Dan slipped into a table in the corner. His table. But then, since he was always the first one here, he’d have his pick of any spot.
Julie squared her shoulders in preparation for another day without enough help, and headed to the display counter to grab Dan’s order of his favorite pastry.
* * *
Tally fi
lled another shaker with sea salt and set it on the tray. The lunch crowd had died down, and she expected Susan and Julie any minute.
She was glad she’d made the decision, years ago, that the cafe would only serve lunch and dinner. As it was, it was open every day of the week. This at least gave her a brief bit of time to herself in the early mornings, and her monthly get-togethers with her friends were a not-to-be-missed-for-any-reason date on her calendar.
She looked up and saw Julie and Susan crossing the wide deck of the outside seating area of Magic Cafe. They waved to her and sat down at their usual table. Tally finished filling the last shaker and walked over to greet her friends.
“Hope you guys want grouper. I have an extra-large shipment. A group that was scheduled to come tomorrow just canceled. Last minute.” Tally slid into a chair across from her friends.
“Grouper sandwich it is, then.” Susan set down her menu without even looking at it.
Tally wasn’t sure why any of the waitresses gave her friends a menu. It’s not like Susan would need it after coming to the cafe for the last seven years, ever since she first moved to the island. And Julie practically grew up here, showing up her first day on the island when she was barely eighteen years old—lost, no job, and not knowing a soul.
“Grouper for me, too. Blackened.” Julie handed her menu to the waitress who had brought over sweet tea for the table.
Tally looked over at Julie, marveling at the young woman she’d become. She’d blossomed into a smart, confident business owner and Tally couldn’t be prouder of her.
Julie looked up and smiled. “Watcha thinking? I see that look in your eyes.”
“Thinking the three of us have come a long way together.”
“I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t taken me under your wing all those years ago. Given me that room in the storage building. I still kind of miss that place. It was the first time I’d ever had a room of my own in my whole life.” Julie leaned back in her chair
“It was pretty sparse.” Tally shook her head.
“It was mine. That was all that mattered.”
“You had it pretty well all dolled up by the time you moved on.” Tally smiled.
“I was so proud of those curtains I made and that old yellow bedspread. I still have it and use it as a beach blanket. Well, I would if, you know, I ever had time to go to the beach.”
Tally leaned forward. “That reminds me. My manager has a niece who’s moving to the island. Needs a job. Good worker. I said you could use someone, and I told her to drop by to talk to you.”
“That would be great, thanks. The shop finally makes enough so I can afford to hire more workers, but I just can’t find good help. Except for Nancy. She’s great.”
“I miss having you as our baker at Magic Cafe, but since I can buy my bread and pastries from you now, it all worked out.”
“I’ve been getting some catering business, too. I’m also hoping to do more wedding cakes.”
Susan set her glass on the table. “I’ve told our wedding planner at the inn to recommend you. We’re really working on ramping up the wedding business this summer. We do have a few booked in June. Just need to get our name out there as a wedding destination. Jamie’s been working on it.”
“That son of yours is a hard worker.” Tally had a momentary twinge of longing, a vague yearning of a dream long ago of sharing a business with a family member. That would never happen, of course.
“Jamie is a hard worker. I don’t know what I’d do without him. We still haven’t turned the inn around. It’s a daily struggle. It has to work, though. It’s Jamie’s whole life. Well, mine too, I guess. But I think Jamie wants to make it a success to make a point. Prove he can do it.” Susan looked out at the ocean. “He wants his stepfather to see we’ve been fine without him, even though the man is no longer his stepfather.”
“Nor is he your husband any longer,” Julie chimed in.
“Thank goodness. Even though the inn is grueling work hours, I love it. I love running it. And you both have been such good sources of help and inspiration. You practically adopted me when I moved here to help Jamie run the inn. I can’t believe it’s been almost seven years.”
“To us.” Julie raised her glass.
“To us,” Tally and Susan joined in.
Tally looked at her friends, a strange mix, each born in a different decade. But, somehow, they made it work. Friends through it all, ready in an instant if any of the trio needed help, advice, comfort, or the occasional glass of medicinal Chardonnay or two.
Tally was lucky, she was, she knew that. She might not have a family anymore, but she had these two women. They were as close to family as a person could get without being blood-related.
Chapter 2
Reed Newman watched out the side window of the town car as the driver headed over the bridge to Belle Island. What was he doing here? What had possessed him to think this was a good idea, to travel completely across the country?
A vacation.
Like he even knew what that was.
But he had a month off, courtesy of his boss. To be honest, his boss had insisted. Reed had briefly toyed with sitting in his Seattle home the entire time, to spite his boss’s order or because it just seemed like an enormous effort to plan a vacation, one of the two.
After three days of stewing in his house, he’d switched on the television, a rarity in and of itself. A program of best beaches to visit in the U.S. flashed on the screen. He watched as the show jumped from a honky-tonk boardwalk beach to a peaceful island on the gulf in southern Florida.
He’d flipped open his laptop, searched for the island, and booked a month’s stay at Belle Island Inn. It was the most spontaneous decision he’d made in years.
One he was regretting right now.
The driver pulled up in front of a large shingle-sided inn with a wide porch sprawling across the length of the building. Reed climbed out of the car, and the driver handed him his suitcase.
“Thanks.” Reed slipped the man a tip on top of the fee he’d paid to be driven from the Sarasota airport. An airport that had taken two plane changes, a book he wasn’t really reading, and countless cups of coffee to reach from Seattle.
A young couple came out the door with a small boy skipping by the man’s side. The boy looked up, and the man leaned down and swooped the child up into his arms. The boy laughed, and the woman smiled and rested her hand on the man’s arm.
Reed paused, debating flagging the driver and heading back home. Was it going to be an inn full of happy families? Romantic couples? He sure hadn’t done his research this time. This is why he should never make spontaneous decisions. Ever.
A young man in a yellow shirt came walking up to the car. His shirt was embroidered with Belle Island Inn.
Tell me yellow is not going to be the shirt color of all the workers at the inn.
“Can I get your bags for you?” The young man asked.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks anyway.”
The late afternoon sun danced among the fronds of the palm trees lining the drive. The town car pulled away and Reed climbed the steps, passing the happy family with a brief nod, and headed in for his month-long sentence.
* * *
Susan looked up from the reception desk to see a man stride into the lobby of the inn. He was dressed in business casual, had an air of solitude wrapped firmly around him, and looked distinctly out of place.
“May I help you?”
The man crossed the lobby and came up to the desk, setting his suitcase on the floor beside him. He reached into his pocket and fished out his wallet. “Newman. Reed Newman.”
“Mr. Newman. Glad to have you stay with us.” Susan coaxed the cranky computer to pull up the reservation. It didn’t seem very happy to comply with her command, because it flickered once then slowly—oh, so slowly—surrendered the information. “Ah, you’re here for the month. The corner suite, top level. That’s a wonderful room. Great view.”
“We have a restaurant that has a buffet breakfast. We do box lunches you can order the night before if you want one any day. The dining room is open every night except Monday. There are a lot of other places to eat here during your stay. I can recommend some.”
“Are they within walking distance?”
“Some are, but we have a free trolley that travels the length of the island that you can use if you don’t have a car here.”
“I don’t.”
Susan handed the man a trolley stop map with a list of places to eat, public beaches, and other sites of interest.
“Your room is up those stairs, to the left, last door.” Susan pointed to the main staircase off the side of the lobby. “I’m sorry, we’re having a bit of trouble with the elevator. It should be fixed tomorrow. You’ll have to use the stairs for now.”
“Not a problem.”
Mr. Newman reached for the key and headed across the lobby with brisk, determined steps. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he reminded her of a little-lost boy, which was ridiculous because he was a grown man. She watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared. She wondered what brought him to the inn for a month. They didn’t often get month-long visitors. Most people who came to the island for a long stay leased a house or condo. Not that she was complaining. A month-long customer in the off-season was nice. Every customer in off-season was nice.
Chapter 3
The next morning Reed stood at the french doors to the balcony and stared out at the ocean. The windows were covered with a fine layer of salt, slightly softening the view. The sea here on the gulf was so different from the sea near Seattle, not that he made the drive to the ocean from Seattle anymore.
