The Girl I Used to Be: A gripping and emotional page-turner

by Heidi Hostetter

  “I’ve been busy. I uploaded the video to someplace safe.” Ellie gestured to a flash drive. “I made a physical copy too, just in case.”

  “Thanks, Ellie.” Jill made her way to the couch and collapsed.

  “Can you believe he admitted to everything?” Ellie swept her hair back, her voice filled with excitement. “He’s not nearly as smart as he thinks, which makes me wonder what else he’s done. I wonder if we should look into it?”

  Jill closed her eyes. “Sure.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m just tired.” Jill straightened. They weren’t finished yet. “I typed up an explanation and I think we should attach the video and mail it to someone important, but I’m not sure who. What do you think?”

  “The judge, maybe? The one who mediated your divorce?”

  Jill took a minute to consider, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. What Marc did seems bigger than that.”

  “So what do you want to do?” Ellie rested her back against the couch. “Somebody needs to see this.”

  “I was kidding before, when I mentioned Chase Bennett, because it was fun to see Marc scared. But now I don’t think the idea is so crazy. Chase was a big deal before he retired, so chances are good that he’ll know what to do with it.” And even if the video wasn’t enough to trigger an investigation, Jill wanted Chase to know she’d tried. “If he doesn’t, he might know someone who does.”

  “On it. Do you have an email for him?”

  Jill rose to fetch a slip of paper from her camera bag: Ryan’s contact information. “Not directly, but if you use this one, I’m pretty sure Chase’ll get it.”

  “Okay. I’ll send it right now.” Ellie turned her attention back to the screen.

  As she returned to the couch, Jill’s cell phone rang with an incoming phone call. It was the real-estate office. “This is Jill.”

  “Hello, Jillian, this is Sheri from the Manhattan Group.”

  “Sheri, hi. How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you. And you will be too, in a minute.” Sheri’s voice was bright. “Seth asked me to call you with the good news. The client and his team finished their work sooner than they thought. He loves the house and wants to submit a formal offer. In fact, he and Seth are in the office writing it up now. Seth wants to present it to you tomorrow morning and asks if 8 a.m. at the house is convenient. Said he knows you’re an early bird,” she added with a chuckle.

  She wasn’t, but that was okay. The important thing was the offer. Could this really be the end?

  “Yes, of course,” Jill said. “I’ll be there.”

  “Great. He’ll see you then.”

  Jill disconnected the call and glanced at Ellie. “The house sold,” she said, stunned. “I’m supposed to meet the agent at the house tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m totally going with you.”

  Twenty-Six

  Because traffic on the Garden State Parkway was unpredictable and the agent appointment was early in the morning, they decided to drive down right away and spend one final night in Dewberry Beach. The idea of staying at The Monstrosity didn’t bother Jill as much as the thought that this would be the last time she’d ever visit the town. Once the rest of its residents found out who she was, she wouldn’t be welcome.

  They stopped for gas at a rest-stop on I95 and Ellie ran in for two coffees from The Dunk. As the rich scent filled the car, Jill’s thoughts turned to the morning she’d ordered coffee and muffins at Dewberry Beach, but she pushed them away. It was time for her to move on, and her new life wouldn’t include Dewberry Beach. It couldn’t. She paid the attendant for the gas and they continued on their way, the traffic unexpectedly light for a Friday afternoon.

  “So this is it, huh?” Ellie asked as she pried the plastic lid from her coffee. “You get the offer tomorrow and you’re done? Do you know how much it is?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll take anything that pays the mortgage and covers closing costs.”

  “Jillian.” Ellie lowered her coffee cup and side-eyed Jill. “That house is worth a fortune. A huge house on two lots of oceanfront? I’ve seen the listing. The money you get from that could be a whole new start—you could literally do anything you want—and don’t you deserve that? After what Marc did to you?”

  Jill flicked her blinker and passed the sturdy Volvo in front of her. How could she explain to Ellie what she couldn’t understand herself? That she’d come to appreciate Dewberry Beach and liked the people in it. That she understood why they hated Marc’s house so much, that it was a symbol of greed built by a man who’d swindled them. And she hated it too.

  “No, I don’t want to profit from the sale.”

  “So what’s left? Keeping it? I thought you couldn’t afford that?”

  “Absolutely not. I can’t keep it,” Jill said quickly. “I can’t even afford the water bill in a house that big.”

  “Okay, so if you had a choice…” Ellie waved her hand dramatically in the air, caught up in the game of “what-if.” “If you could magically make anything happen, what would you do with that house?”

  “I’d raze it,” Jill said simply, and the truth of it surprised her. She told Ellie what Chase had told her that night at his house, and the things she’d overheard at the Yacht Club. Personal accounts of how horrific the hurricane had been and how Marc had made it so much worse. “That house will always be a reminder of how Marc cheated them and it’s painful for them to see it every day. Wouldn’t it be great to give them a do-over? After everything they’ve been through?”

  “Yeah, I guess it would,” Ellie agreed. “It sounds as if you really like Dewberry Beach, Jilly.”

  “I guess I do,” Jill replied. “The town, the people, they remind me of summers at Aunt Sarah’s.”

  They drove in silence for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Jill wondered about the art auction and if Brenda had found someone to fill her spot in the gallery. She remembered how carefully the volunteers had decorated the Yacht Club ballroom, the strings of white lights threaded through the tree branches outside, and she imagined their soft glow against the evening sky. It was a party and the whole town was invited. And then she wondered if Danny would be there.

  “Isn’t that house of yours furnished? With high-end stuff? And appliances too?” Ellie asked abruptly. “What if you sold all of it to pay for bulldozers and dump trucks or whatever? You could demolish the house. Wouldn’t that work?”

  Jill finished the last sip of coffee then returned her cup to the console. “Funny you should ask. I’ve thought of it myself, even went so far as to search resale markets to see how much the kitchen appliances are worth. In fact, I still have the list somewhere—on Marc’s desk at the Dewberry house, I think. Anyway, selling everything in that house, right down to the towels in the bathrooms and the platters in the butler pantry, would only be enough to pay off the mortgage. That still leaves the demolition, and I imagine bulldozers and dump trucks are expensive.”

  “Well, that’s it then. With all those bills to pay, there’s only so much you can do.” Ellie sagged against the door. “Razing that house was a good idea though.”

  Jill shrugged because there didn’t seem to be anything more to say. What she wanted to do and what she was able to do were two vastly different things.

  Twenty-Seven

  By the time they pulled the car into the garage at Dewberry Beach, the afternoon light had faded. Even before Jill switched off the ignition, she made sure the garage door was closed firmly behind them. This was the family weekend of the Light Up the Bay Festival, and activities would be scattered all over town. Besides the art auction she was hiding from, there were activities on the beach, and it was important that they didn’t draw any attention to this house. Jill needed the sale.

  They climbed out of the car and gathered their stuff.

  As they entered the house, Jill flicked on a kitchen light that couldn’t be seen from the street or the shore. Eve
n after just a couple of days away, it was jarring to enter The Monstrosity. The interior space was meant to be lavish, but Jill still found it overwhelming and ostentatious. She much preferred the coziness of Ellie’s apartment. They dropped their bags and Ellie asked for directions to Marc’s office, which seemed an odd request but Jill let it go.

  “Down the hallway, second on the left.” Jill moved to the windows, pulling the drapes firmly closed.

  Ellie returned, stuffing a paper in her back pocket. “How ’bout if I go pick up food for us? I can go into town—no one will know who I am. You think anything’s open?”

  “The deli should be.” Jill drew a map on the back of an envelope. “If you go there, be sure to bring back sides. The salads are really good.”

  “Sides? Sure.” Ellie looked at her quizzically. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Just tired.” On second thought, Jill switched off the kitchen light. “Go get the food. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back soon.” Ellie made her way to the front door, then turned. “I’m curious about something. That man you told me about—the one who didn’t like Marc? Chase something? What did you say his last name is again?”

  “Bennett.” Jill pulled a blanket from a wicker basket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Yeah, he didn’t like Marc at all. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.”

  After Ellie left, Jill made her way upstairs, intending to take a hot shower, but when she couldn’t summon the energy to stand, even for a few minutes, she drew a bath instead. She added the lavender bath salt that was meant for show and watched the ocean waves on the horizon. And when finally she wasn’t able to hold them back a minute longer, she let her thoughts drift to the art show at the Yacht Club. To the auction that was happening right this minute, and to the empty spot that should have been hers. She wondered if anyone would have liked the bridal portrait she’d planned to show, and then because it was too painful to think about, she decided it didn’t matter.

  She stayed in the tub until the water grew cold, then toweled off and wrapped herself in a thick robe.

  The real-estate agents were due to arrive early the following morning. They’d present the buyer’s offer and Jill would accept it, whatever it was. This time tomorrow, she and Ellie would be far away from Dewberry Beach. They might even be celebrating the start of Jill’s new life.

  That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? A fresh start?

  So why wasn’t she happier?

  Ellie returned with food a while later, her hair and clothes windswept and her face pink from the cold. She nudged the door open with her hip, her arms filled with bags. As she entered the house, a gust of wind pushed past her, bringing with it the scent of woodsmoke and ocean air.

  “You won’t believe what’s going on in town—the place is packed.” She set the bags on the table and peeled off her coat, tossing it on a chair. “I thought you said town would be deserted tonight.”

  “I thought it would be. The art show is at the Yacht Club and that’s over by the bay.”

  “That might be true, but there’s also some kind of street fair going on.” Ellie began unpacking the food: fat sandwiches and soda and tubs of salads. “Kids are running everywhere. Every shop door is propped wide open, and there are pumpkin string lights draped across the street.”

  Jill had been there when the volunteers had strung the pumpkin lights and she remembered wondering what they would look like at night. She hadn’t been to a street fair since she was a kid. It sounded wonderful, and more than anything, Jill wished they could walk back into town to be part of it. But that wasn’t possible of course. Ellie could, but Jill wouldn’t be welcome there and the realization stung.

  “Is that why you were gone so long?” Jill pasted on a smile she didn’t feel. “I thought you’d gotten lost.”

  “What? Oh, yeah. I guess I did.” Ellie’s hand hovered over the light switch. “On or off?”

  “Off,” Jill blurted with more force than necessary. “Definitely off. I’m sorry, do you mind?”

  “Of course not, but it seems unfair.” Ellie sighed, resigned. Suddenly, she gathered everything up. “No. Forget this. You didn’t do this. You didn’t build this house. You’re just selling it because you can’t afford not to. There’s a deck up top of this palace, isn’t there? Let’s go there. No one can possibly see us up there.”

  They carried their dinner and a couple of blankets up to the rooftop deck. In the waning light, they watched a trio of seagulls glide across the horizon as the waves rolled gently to shore. They tracked the surfer with the faded green board riding one final wave to shore. Absurdly, Jill felt an odd sense of pride at how hard the surfer had worked in the few days she’d been in town, how dedicated he was to his craft. She would have liked to have met whoever it was. Further up the beach, a man who had been throwing a driftwood stick for his dog decided to call it a day. He whistled and his dog came running. Jill would have liked to have met him too.

  She and Ellie spent their last night at the shore outside, watching the moon rise over the sea. They stayed on the rooftop deck even when they could no longer see the ocean. They listened to the waves roar and the murmur of families on the beach calling out to each other as they walked along the shore. It would have been wonderful to have become part of this community. The idea was unexpected. She hadn’t anticipated becoming so attached in such a short time.

  When the chill of the late October evening became too much for even the blankets they’d brought outside, they decided to call it a day.

  As Jill helped pack everything up, she felt a painful tug of regret. Dewberry Beach was a sweet little town and it had come to occupy a special place in her heart.

  She would be sorry to leave it.

  Twenty-Eight

  The following morning found Jill at the dining table with Ellie on her left, the real-estate agents on her right, and a daunting amount of paperwork in front of her. Neither she nor Ellie had ever bought or sold real estate before, and it wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.

  “This is a solid offer, Jill.” Seth tapped the balance sheet for the second time, pleased with himself. “It’s even better than I’d hoped. They want to start construction immediately so they’re willing to pay a premium for a fast close.”

  Jill lifted the spreadsheet from the pile and looked at the numbers again. Seth was right—the offer was substantially over list price. If she accepted, she’d walk away with more money than she’d ever seen—enough to last for years. She could go back to school, get that art degree Mrs. Brockhurst had insisted she needed. She could afford to buy all new camera equipment—anything she wanted. All she had to do was sign the papers to accept the offer. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to pick up a pen, and her hesitancy was frustrating everyone at the table.

  “Tell me again who these people are?” she asked, though she knew the answer because she’d asked twice before.

  To his credit, Seth offered a patient smile. “It’s not a person, Jill. It’s a company—Shore Parties Unlimited.” Seth slid their brochure across the table. “They specialize in corporate events and retreats. Off-site executive experiences are the next big thing, and this company wants to be ahead of the curve.”

  “They want this house to be a ‘venue’? You mean, for parties?” Jill glanced at their brochure, though she didn’t need to.

  “Their only shore venue, as a matter of fact. This house was built for entertaining, so why not put the space to work?” Seth shrugged. “It’s a solid business plan.”

  “I haven’t heard of this company before. Are they new?” Ellie asked, and Jill was grateful for the extra time to think.

  Seth’s expression flickered with annoyance and Jill couldn’t blame him. They’d been at the table far longer than they should have been and the questions she posed were ridiculous, even to her. What did it matter who the buyer was? She wasn’t rehoming a puppy—she was selling a house.

  Seth re
covered and answered. “Shore Parties may be small, but they have money to spend. They’re funded out of Atlantic City—one of the casinos, as I’ve said—and their parties are legendary. They set up lights, speakers, DJ equipment—and this location is perfect for pyrotechnics. The house itself has no restrictions and they plan to expand their events to use the beach as much as they can. Luckily, the front driveway is big enough to accommodate their party bus.”

  “Party bus?” That was new. Jill glanced at the circular driveway in front of the house.

  “They liked the house quite a bit, but what really sold it was the lack of restrictions attached to the deed—that almost never happens.” When Jill didn’t respond, Seth continued. “They’ve drawn up plans to expand the house. I can show them to you if you’d like.”

  “Expand?” Jill parroted. “You mean beyond just the widow’s walk?”

  “Oh yeah,” Seth said. “You should see. They plan to build right up to the property line. There’s no reason not to, right?”

  Jill frowned. Was that really the legacy she wanted to leave—that she had made Marc’s Monstrosity even worse?

  Seth misunderstood her hesitation and pressed forward. “This offer is good, Jill. Really good.” He found the closing statement and slid it toward her again. “All-cash offer, twenty percent over your asking price, and we close in two weeks.”

  “To give them time to expand before next summer, I bet,” Jill muttered. “They probably even have their own work crew, just like Marc did.”

  Seth pressed his back against his chair, exasperated. “I’m sorry, Ms. DiFiore, but I don’t understand why you’re not happier about this offer. It’s exactly what you asked for. You wanted a quick sale; we have one. You wanted the furnishings to go with the house; they will. In fact, they want everything in this house—right down to the forks in the kitchen and the food in the pantry; something about feeding the contractors when they come.”