* * *
The month hurried on and before Jenna knew it, Thanksgiving was almost upon them, and she was checking in their first guests, two twentysomething couples on their way to Grandma’s house in Montana, detouring for some fun at the beach. They had scruffy hair, scruffy clothes and a smell of smoke hovering over them. One of the men had meth teeth, rotting in his mouth.
Jenna told herself not to be paranoid. No judging books by their scruffy covers. She smiled and handed over room keys and reminded them that the Driftwood Inn was a nonsmoking facility.
“Well, shit,” muttered Mr. Meth Teeth.
“We can smoke outside, Lionel,” his lady informed him.
Lionel frowned, shook his head at the world’s prejudice against smokers, and lumbered out of the office to unload the trunk of an old car that looked like it wouldn’t even make Idaho, let alone Montana.
His buddy spied the plate with Aunt Edie’s freshly baked oatmeal cookies. “Are these free?”
“Yes, they are,” Jenna said.
“Awesome,” he said, and took four. The women each took two, and a moment later Lionel was back in search of free cookies. He cleared the rest of them off the plate. Cookie strip-mining.
Well, Aunt Edie would be pleased that her cookies had been a hit.
Courtney showed up as the new arrivals were hauling coolers and six-packs of beer into their adjoining rooms. “Keep an eye on those guys,” Jenna said to her. “They might get a little crazy.”
Other than some hooting and shouts around midnight, the foursome was well-behaved. Surprising, considering all the empty beer bottles Jenna found in the rooms when she went to clean after they’d checked out the next day. Someone, probably Lionel, had smoked in the room, and Jenna left it open to air out as she worked.
Stripping beds, vacuuming and cleaning toilets wasn’t bad when you only had a couple of rooms to clean, but Jenna wasn’t looking forward to the extra workload when they filled up for the festival in December. She’d have loved nothing better than to hire a new maid, but there was no point, not until May, when tourist season kicked off. Meanwhile, she was office manager, bookkeeper and maid at the Driftwood Inn. Livin’ the dream.
Actually, she was. She was getting to live at the beach. She had great new friends, and her daughter was thriving. And she loved the old motel and was proud of the job she’d done refurbishing it. People stayed with them, enjoyed the sun and surf and Aunt Edie’s cookies, and made memories.
And messes. She wrinkled her nose at the pile of exceptionally dirty towels in the bathroom in Lionel’s room. She was glad she was wearing plastic gloves. Ugh.
The rest of Jenna’s day was full with massage clients, all wanting the kinks worked out before climbing in the car to drive over to see the relatives, or needing a quick muscle fix before a day of cooking and baking. After that, she had to work the desk. She caught up on some paperwork and checked in an older couple. She wasn’t expecting any more people until later when Courtney arrived for her shift, but you never knew.
Surprisingly enough, she did get some more check-ins—a party of millennials, two women and three men on the way to who knew where and full of energy and raucous laughter.
“Are these cookies free?” asked one of the guys.
“Help yourself,” Jenna told him, and he did. To two.
“Billie, you are such a pig,” said one of the women, a cute brunette. She took a couple, as well. Skinny as she was, she probably needed the calories. And the treats were there for people to enjoy.
Not to be left out, the others swept in like herder ants and cleared the plate.
“I heard there’s a cannabis shop in town,” said one of the guys.
At the edge of town. Some of the citizens of Moonlight Harbor weren’t happy about it, but marijuana was legal in Washington, so, happy or not, Cannabis Central was part of the scene.
“Never mind that,” said the brunette. “Where’s the liquor store?”
Oh, boy, more party animals. Jenna gave them a list of all the shops in town, informed them that there was no smoking in the rooms, and sent them off with their room keys.
It was dark by the time she got back to the house. She walked into the kitchen for a mug of tea, where Aunt Edie and Sabrina were busy baking pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving and pumpkin cookies for the guests. The kitchen smelled of cloves and cinnamon.
Jenna helped herself to a cookie and pronounced it fabulous. “I’d better get some of these over to the office for Courtney’s shift and our next arrivals. We had some unexpected check-ins, and they inhaled the others.”
Aunt Edie was pleased to hear that her cookies had been a success. “We’ll have to bake some more, won’t we, Sabrina?”
Sabrina, who knew that cookie baking meant cookie dough snatching and cookie sampling, agreed.
Jenna returned to the office with the fresh treats just as Courtney was checking in a couple in their fifties. Both were a little hefty but neither was scruffy, and the car parked outside, while not new, looked like it had been kept in good running condition. No hint of smoke lingering on these two, thankfully. They should be nice and easy. She hoped the partying millennials didn’t drive them nuts.
She joined Courtney behind the desk, set out the cookies, and welcomed them to the Driftwood.
“Thanks,” the man said briskly. He took the room key and left for the car.
The woman took a cookie, and, with a nod, followed him out.
“Mr. and Mrs. Friendly,” said Courtney.
“Oh, well. Heads in beds, and that’s what matters. Anyway, they look like they’ll be quiet.”
“A good change from the partiers,” Courtney agreed. “Hey, what kind of cookies are these?”
“Pumpkin,” Jenna said, and proffered the plate.
Courtney selected one and took a bite. “These are deadly,” she said with a groan. “Your aunt’s a sugar pusher. She’s turning me into a cookie addict.”
“Be glad you’re not living with her.”
“As if you have to worry,” Courtney said, eyeing her. “Do you ever diet?”
“Who needs to diet when I can work off the weight cleaning up after the Lionels of the world?”
At that moment, the older woman who’d checked in earlier with her husband came in. “I was just wondering if you had an ice machine,” she said, holding up a small black ice bucket.
The information was printed on a card hanging on the door, but no way was Jenna going to embarrass her by pointing that out, so she directed her to the far end of the motel. “There’s also a pop machine.”
“Thank you, but we won’t need that. My husband brought some juice. We’ll be fine.” She spotted the cookies and looked longingly at the plate.
“Would you like another one of my aunt’s cookies?” Jenna asked, picking up the plate.
“Oh, I would. May I take one for my husband, too?”
“Of course,” Jenna said. “They’re here for our guests.”
“What a lovely touch. By the way, the Sunrise room is simply charming. I love the orange carpet and all the sunrise pictures. It’s aptly named.”
“Each room has a different theme,” Courtney explained.
“Well, we’ll have to come back and try a different room next time and see what its theme is,” the woman said with a smile. Then she took her cookies and left.
“Another satisfied customer,” said Courtney.
“I hope they do come back,” Jenna said.
“Speaking of customers.” Courtney pointed to a shiny, gunmetal gray new model car of some sort pulling up. “I didn’t think we had any reservations.”
“Only my ex, but he’s got an old truck.”
Not anymore, it would appear. The door on the driver’s side of the car opened, and a beautifully carved specimen of manhood stepped into the light from the outdoor
lamps. He had straight, dark hair, artistically long and slicked back. He wore jeans and trendy sneakers and an equally trendy-looking coat.
“Damien.”
“The ex? Uh, that’s some truck he’s got.”
When did he get a new car? And was he paying for it with the money Jenna sent him? When she was driving a beater?
But it wasn’t the sight of her former husband’s new ride that had her grinding her molars. It was what she saw emerging from the other side of the vehicle—a slender woman with delicate features and long, coppery hair, flowing about her shoulders. She wore leggings and boots and a brown suede coat. Black leather gloves. She looked like a fashion model, but in fact she was a man thief.
Aurora. What was the girlfriend doing here? Jenna had invited him to spend the night at the Driftwood. She hadn’t offered a couple’s getaway.
She should’ve known he’d bring her, though. She ground her teeth harder.
“The ex and the bitch,” Courtney murmured. “If you want to leave, I can take care of them.”
“No, I need to stay and...”
“Be civil?”
Jenna frowned. “Something like that. But hide the cookies.” She didn’t have to be that civil.
Chapter Eight
Jenna put on a smile. It didn’t fit well. Leave it to Damien to take advantage of her kindness and bring along the woman he’d left her for. Tacky. Very tacky. But then so was hitting her up for spousal support, dinging her earnings as a massage therapist. Why be surprised by this? Thank God Aunt Edie was keeping the motel in her name until she died. At least he wouldn’t be able to get his greedy mitts on that.
He took Aurora’s hand as they walked into the office. How touching. They floated in on a cloud of perfume, with her wearing a smile almost as ill-fitting as Jenna’s, him looking serious and brooding like the artiste he was. Or thought he was.
Normally Jenna would have offered a cheery greeting to a new arrival. This time she stood at the reception desk and waited for him to speak.
“We’re here,” he said.
No. Really? “I see that. I figured you’d be coming down on your own.”
“It’s a long way,” put in Aurora the princess. “He needed someone to take a turn driving.”
“Of course, he did.” Because at forty-two he was so old and infirm.
If Aurora caught the sarcasm in Jenna’s voice, she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she smiled at Damien as if they were newlyweds. Ugh.
“I see you got a new car,” Jenna said. With whose money?
His cheeks suddenly looked sunburned. “Don’t worry. I didn’t spend any of the money you sent,” he said, reading her mind. “My parents helped us out.”
“Mommy and Daddy still paying your way, huh?” Jenna said under her breath. Oh, yeah. Let the fight begin.
Courtney stepped into the ring before anyone could get bloodied. “Let’s check you in,” she said to Damien, and Jenna went to her corner.
If only they still had a nice, leaky room for the rat king and his consort.
No, no, no. Living well was the best revenge, and Jenna was living well. She wished he could see just how well she was living. If only Brody or Seth was around. She’d have loved to parade either of those two in front of him. See who wants me now?
But Brody was in Seattle with his family, and Seth had left for his brother’s in Tacoma.
“Put them in a Beach room,” she told Courtney.
“Has it got a view of the beach?” Aurora asked eagerly.
“No, but it has a beach-themed décor,” Jenna replied. “Sabrina took the pictures on the wall,” she told Damien. There. See? She could be civil.
“Sounds like she inherited some of your talent,” Aurora said to him.
Jenna was a pretty good photographer, too. What was that noise? Oh, yeah. Her teeth, still grinding.
“Can you walk to the beach from here?” asked Aurora.
“Yes, just follow the path.” Feel free to keep on walking once you hit the beach. Right into the water. Up to your neck.
Stop already, Jenna scolded herself. Did she really need to be jealous of this woman? Damien was no prize. He was a leech and a loser, and she was well rid of him. She probably owed Aurora chocolate for life.
“Where’s Sabrina?” asked the leech.
“She’s in the house, finishing up her homework.”
“I thought we’d take her out to dinner,” Damien said. “Can you send her to the room when she’s done?”
“Sure.”
“Where’s the best place to go?” Aurora asked.
“Does she have a favorite place?” Damien wanted to know.
Okay, good for him. He was actually thinking of their daughter. Iceberg Jenna thawed a little. “She loves the Seafood Shack.”
Aurora wrinkled her nose. “Is there someplace in town that doesn’t serve seafood?”
“This is a beach town,” said Jenna. “Everyone serves seafood.”
“You’re not gonna find much else here,” Damien sneered, and the thawing stopped.
“But all the restaurants have other options, as well,” Jenna said. Sadly, none of them served rat poison.
Courtney handed over the room key, and Damien took it without another word and left with Aurora and her perfume trailing behind.
“I can see why you fell for him when you were young and stupid,” Courtney said after the door shut behind them. “He is gorgeous.”
“Yes, he is. Just ask him.”
Courtney gave a snort. “You’re well rid of him. Almost,” she added.
Two and a half more years of spousal support left. Then she’d be free of him. But only financially. Down the road Sabrina would fall in love, and there’d be a wedding, followed by grandchildren and family events to which both Jenna and Damien would be invited. She pulled the plate of cookies back out and grabbed one. Self-medicating with sugar.
She left Courtney in charge and went to the house to tell Sabrina her father had arrived. “He’s going to take you out to dinner.”
“All right! Where?”
“I told him the Seafood Shack.”
“Awesome.” Sabrina snapped her textbook shut.
Jenna considered telling her that the girlfriend would be joining them, then changed her mind. As far as Sabrina was concerned, Aurora was the Antichrist. Better that she not know the woman had come along. She’d refuse to go out, maybe even refuse to go back with her father. And they needed the time together.
“At least he wants to be with his daughter,” Aunt Edie said in Damien’s defense after Sabrina had left. “A father-daughter dinner together will be nice.”
“A father-daughter-girlfriend dinner.”
Aunt Edie frowned. “Oh, no. He brought the other woman?”
“Yep.”
“Call the cops,” suggested Roger, pacing inside his cage. “Call the cops!”
Aunt Edie shook her head. “I hope they manage to enjoy themselves.”
“I hope they manage not to kill each other,” Jenna said. Although there were still times when she thought death was too good for both Aurora and Damien. Ah, well. Moving on.
And it was easy to move on when her sister and mom arrived. Celeste was her usual gorgeous, bubbly self, wearing a winter jacket accented with a scarf that she bragged about having knitted herself.
“When did you take up knitting?” Jenna demanded.
“Last month.” Celeste held out the furry-looking pink scarf. “You like it?”
“I do.”
“Good. Try to act surprised when you get one this for Christmas.”
Melody Jones was her usual serene and beautiful self, and a simple hug from her was enough to chase away the fumes of irritation left from Jenna’s encounter with her ex and the princess. How great it would be if her mo
m would retire early and come live with her and Aunt Edie at the beach. Mom would love living in Moonlight Harbor, and everyone would love her.
How old was Ellis West? He looked to be about her mom’s age. Maybe they’d hit it off.
Except her mom had been widowed too many years. She’d lost the love of her life, and probably no man would ever measure up. So here they were, a family of single women, all together for the holidays, the only hint of testosterone in the house a grizzled, old mooch. Speaking of testosterone...
“I can’t believe you’re not having Thanksgiving with Mr. Amazing,” she said to her sister as Celeste stowed her overnight case in Jenna’s room. “You could’ve brought him, you know.”
Celeste shrugged. “He’s off seeing his family.”
“He didn’t want you to meet them?”
“We’re not rushing into anything,” Celeste said. “Except bed. Don’t tell Mom,” she added.
Yes. Their mother wouldn’t approve. Jenna wasn’t so wild about her sister’s impetuousness, either. She knew Celeste was smitten, but she wondered about the new man in her life. Something was off.
“Don’t you think, if you’re getting that close, it’s kind of weird that he doesn’t want you to meet his family?” she asked.
“No. He hasn’t met mine yet, either.”
“Yeah, and what’s with that?”
“I don’t want to scare him away,” Celeste said with a grin.
“Oh, ha ha.”
“Seriously, things keep coming up. But I’m sure we’ll get to the family meet and greet soon.”
“You’d better. Mom’s going to want to inspect him, you know.”
“I know. Meanwhile...”
Jenna held up a hand. “If you’re going to start bragging about your sex life I don’t want to hear it.”
Mel, who was going to be in Sabrina’s room for the weekend, walked in as Celeste was giggling. “Now, what are you two talking about?”
Celeste gave Jenna a warning look. “Nothing,” Jenna said. “I hope you guys are hungry. Aunt Edie’s made a huge pot of potato soup and some of her amazing cheese bread.”
“I remember that cheese bread,” Mel said. “You could get fat just looking at it.”
Winter at the Beach Page 10
