Welcome to Moonlight Harbor

by Sheila Roberts

  “But at least she’d be with her best friend if I stayed. At least I wouldn’t have to change schools on her.”

  Mel cocked an eyebrow. “And she’s doing so well where she is.”

  Jenna’s head suddenly hurt.

  “Honey, you have to think beyond these next few months,” her mother said as Jenna tried to rub away the ache at her temples.

  “I don’t know. It’s a big step.”

  “Most first steps are. And yes, you can stay where you are and play it safe. You can keep limping along with the clients you have. I can slip you money once in a while, and so can your grandparents. But it will never be enough to keep you very high above the poverty level. Once we die—”

  “Don’t even say that,” Jenna interrupted. Her mother and the grandparents had been her safety net over the last year, as well as her rooting section, coaches and therapists (and therapy with Mom had been free). She couldn’t imagine life without any of them. She especially couldn’t imagine life without her mother, who was both her role model and her best friend.

  “We’re not planning on it anytime soon,” Mel said. “Once I’m gone you’ll have my life insurance money. And you girls are in the grandparents’ wills. Although the recession dipped into Gram and Gramps’s retirement pretty heavily—but still.”

  “Can we not talk about this?” Sheesh.

  “My point is that, while down the road you’ll inherit a small nest egg, it doesn’t help you now. You have to live. Go to the beach and you can live comfortably. You can build a future.”

  Jenna tried to imagine herself getting her daughter on board with this plan now that she’d seen Sabrina’s reaction. She couldn’t. The motel had looked like such a godsend, but really...

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Mom said, making Jenna’s brow furrow and her lips turn as far down at the corners as her daughter’s had only a moment ago. “Stop it right now. You can’t keep doing what you’ve been doing and expect to do well, not with how your life’s changed.”

  Deep down she knew her mother was right. And deep down she did want to make a new start and do something special with the rest of her life. But...

  “You’re like a snail that’s outgrown its shell. You have to move on, expand your life. Adapt or die, darling.”

  “And is that what I’m supposed to tell Sabrina?” Jenna retorted irritably.

  “No. You simply tell her this is how it has to be. Children are resilient. She’ll adjust.”

  “I don’t know.” Only a moment ago this had looked like a great opportunity. What if it turned out to be a great mistake?

  “You’re not moving to the edge of the earth,” Mel said. “Her friend can come visit. She can come here and stay with me and see her father. Tell her it will be fine.”

  “Like you told me when I kept asking where Daddy was?”

  “Exactly. And it did turn out all right, didn’t it? You had a happy childhood.”

  She had. After her father died the relatives had circled around their bereft little family, making sure both Jenna and Celeste got plenty of love and attention. The grandpas stepped up to the plate, taking the girls to father-daughter dances and coming to their music recitals and volleyball games along with the grandmas. Uncle Ralph had made visits to the beach an adventure, teaching the girls how to bait a crab trap and how to work a clam gun. When they’d gotten older he’d also scared away boys he deemed unworthy of his great-nieces, which had turned out to be most of the boys they ever met. That had perturbed them both, but they’d loved him, anyway. And Aunt Edie, she’d always been there, smiling and ready to help the girls make wind chimes out of bits of driftwood and seashells or to bake cookies together. On rainy June evenings they’d all played hearts and crazy eights or, Jenna’s favorite, Monopoly.

  She’d always won at Monopoly. Now she had a chance to win in real life. But she didn’t want to win at the expense of her relationship with her daughter. Resilient or not, kids still paid the price for their parents’ mistakes.

  But surely living at the beach wouldn’t be a bad price to pay. Maybe Sabrina would love to dig for clams and make wind chimes. Maybe she’d be as in awe of the spectacle of waves racing to throw themselves on the sandy beach as Jenna had once been.

  If Jenna could just get her down there.

  “This could be good for Sabrina, too, you know,” her mom said, as if reading her mind. “Her father really isn’t a very positive influence.”

  “He’s still her father.”

  “Let him be her father from a distance. It’s what he wants, anyway.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Sad, but true. Damien and his slimy lawyer had done a great job of pulling the wool over the judge’s eyes. He’d come away with a very loose arrangement, visitation rights but no responsibility. He’d be the same father he’d been when they were together, barely involved.

  “Someday, she’ll figure out who the real bad guy is,” said Mel.

  Jenna sighed. “Part of me wants that, wants to be exonerated. But part of me... Jeez, Mom, he’s her dad. I hate the idea of her ever realizing what a pathetic one he is.”

  “She will, and it will be hard. But she’ll survive. She’s strong, like her mama,” Mel added with a smile. Then she sobered. “Meanwhile, remember who’s the child here and who’s the adult. It’s up to you to move you girls to a better future even though your daughter isn’t able to see it. You have to do what’s right even if it’s not what’s popular.”

  How many times had her mother told her that when she was young? She smiled. “How did you get to be so wise?”

  “Lots of stupid mistakes,” Mel replied, although Jenna couldn’t remember her mother ever doing anything stupid. “Trust me when I tell you that you need to take advantage of this. Don’t let the fear of the unknown keep you tethered in a place where you can’t prosper. And you know I’m not simply talking about money.”

  Jenna nodded. Mom was right. She’d fallen into quicksand and now someone was offering to pull her out. She’d be crazy not to take that helping hand. And she wanted this. She wanted to feel alive again instead of like one of the walking dead. And the move would be good for Sabrina, too. Fresh air, healthy outdoor activities, a summer of fun to distract her from the dark clouds her parents had blown over her life.

  How was she going to convince Sabrina of that?

  She took a deep breath and followed her daughter to the guest bedroom, praying all the way that somehow the right words would drop into her mind.

  She found Sabrina on the bed, listening to her iPod, tears streaking down her face. Clothes lay scattered around the floor. The book she’d been reading leaned against a corner, its pages fanned out, obviously hurled there in a fit of anger. Sabrina pretended not to see her mother, but the vicious kick at a pair of jeans gave her away.

  Oh, boy. Both eyes went into action. Blink, blink, twitch, twitch.

  Jenna forced her eyelids to stay in place and sat down next to her daughter on the bed. Sabrina shifted so her face was turned to the wall.

  Jenna laid a hand on her arm. Sabrina yanked it away.

  “Sabrina.”

  Sabrina took out her earbuds and glared at Jenna. “It’s not fair,” she spat.

  That much was definitely true. None of what had happened was fair. She sighed. “I know.”

  “You’re ruining my life,” Sabrina wailed.

  No. Damien was ruining her life. He’d ruined both their lives. But that wasn’t something she’d say out loud. “I’m trying to get us out of the ruins, Sabrina. I’m sorry Daddy and I couldn’t stay together.” I’m sorry your dad’s a shit. “But this is how things have turned out, and I don’t want us to keep sitting around being miserable. I want to do something that’s good for our future.” This was way too philosophical. Jenna tried a new tack. “I want to be able to afford nice clothes for you. I want
to be able to pay for all those school activities you’re going to want to do when you start high school. I want to be able to save for your college education. I want to try and make things better for us.” Sabrina was sitting with her lips pressed together, a river of tears flowing down her cheeks. “Can you understand that at all?” Jenna asked.

  Sabrina bit her lip and nodded. “But I don’t want to move,” she said in a small voice.

  “I don’t want to move you,” Jenna said. “But I think, in the long run, this will be good for us. Can you try and keep an open mind?”

  Sabrina burst into sobs.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Jenna said, and hugged her.

  At last Sabrina’s sobs began to subside. She wiped at her nose. “What if I hate it there?”

  “What if you give it a chance?” Jenna countered. “It really is a great town,” she hurried on. “They have this cute ice cream parlor where you can get about a million flavors of ice cream. And there’s miniature golf and go-carts. Lots of friendly people. Your aunt Celeste and I used to meet so many cute boys at the beach,” she added, sure that would clinch the deal. Her daughter was frowning, but at least she’d stopped crying.

  “Can Marigold come?”

  “She can visit as soon as we get settled. How’s that?”

  The frown shrank slightly and Sabrina said a reluctant okay. Then added, “But what if I hate it?”

  Back to that again. “You won’t,” Jenna assured her. Dear God, pleeease let me be right about that.

  Chapter Three

  To Do:

  Finish packing up kitchen and craft stuff

  Call Aunt Edie with ETA

  Rent trailer

  Buy chocolate for grumpy daughter

  The first Saturday in June found Jenna Jones and her daughter on their way to Moonlight Harbor, towing behind their car a tiny rented trailer filled with their most valued possessions—scrapbooks, crafting supplies, clothes, Sabrina’s bike and Jenna’s massage table and oils and other business necessities, just in case she needed to supplement their income from the motel. Or in case she got the itch to do massage, which was highly likely, since she loved what she did. Most of the furniture had been sold, and that had given her some extra cash. Her linens and the Wedgwood china Gram had given her had been stored in Mom’s basement, along with Sabrina’s bedroom set, after Jenna realized that would have been the final straw for her daughter.

  Big clue: “My bed? You’re selling my bed?”

  “Aunt Edie will have a bed for you,” Jenna had assured her.

  “But it won’t be my bed,” she’d argued. “And what if we don’t like it there? We won’t have beds when we come home.”

  “Honey, this is going to be our home.” At that, Sabrina had looked thunderous and Jenna’s nervous tic had reappeared. “Okay, we won’t sell your bed.” No bed selling.

  Taking Sabrina out of school early turned out to be the one thing Jenna had done right in her daughter’s eyes. Sabrina’s grades weren’t getting any better. Her teachers were all mean and she hated school. Jenna hoped she’d be in a better frame of mind come fall.

  Daddy didn’t bother to come see his daughter off. Instead, he’d texted her. Have fun at the beach. Keep an eye out for detritus for me. As always, all about him.

  “She doesn’t want to go, you know,” he’d told Jenna when he’d dropped Sabrina off the week before, after a father-daughter run to Dairy Queen that Sabrina had instigated.

  “She’ll like it once she’s there,” Jenna had insisted. If she kept saying it often enough surely it would become true. “And it will help the budget if we have a place to live rent-free while I help my aunt run the motel.” She’d conveniently neglected to inform him that she was going to inherit said motel. She may have been stupid when she’d married him, but she wasn’t going to be stupid now that she was divorced from him.

  “Well, at least that way you’ll have enough money to pay me what you owe me.”

  Yep, all about him. “You mean I’ll have enough to pay you what you’re leeching off me,” she’d said, which had sent him roaring off in his truck while Jenna was left steaming.

  Now, though, as they entered Harbor County, home of beachside towns, fishing ports and relaxation, the frustration and fury got left behind like unclaimed baggage. So what if the sky was gray and drizzly? The future was sunny. They crested the rise outside of Aberdeen and, in between the giant firs, caught sight of the Pacific Ocean in the distance.

  “There it is,” Jenna said, sounding like an Oklahoma land-rush pioneer pointing out the Promised Land.

  Sabrina was plugged into her iPod and ignored her. So far her enthusiasm for their new adventure had been underwhelming. But wait till she saw the town.

  Jenna could hardly wait. Other than one quick visit after her high school graduation and a honeymoon weekend with Damien, she’d been MIA since her sophomore year in high school. Her first real job, working at the local McDonald’s, had kept her away. Then came the friend with the house on Hood Canal where there were boys galore, followed by a couple of boyfriends. Then, of course, along came Damien, who didn’t fall in love with Moonlight Harbor like she’d hoped. After they married, it seemed as if every time she planned to visit her aunt something came up that prevented her from going. Damien demanded a lot of attention.

  Actually, more than a lot. Looking back on her life it seemed she’d married a psychic vampire. As their marriage progressed he grew bigger and she grew smaller, an insignificant planet orbiting him. Scrapbooking and various craft projects fell by the wayside. How could scrapbooking and refurbishing old furniture compare to Art? And, by the way, had she finished those posters for his exhibition?

  She’d been crushed when he’d found another woman. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if Aurora had actually done her a favor and set her free, allowing her to come back to a place that had given her a happy childhood. Maybe it would give her a happy adulthood, too.

  They drove through Aberdeen and then Quinault, a small town that had given up on logging and was working its way back to prosperity. “We’re almost there,” Jenna said to Sabrina after another few miles. “Beachcombing, whale watching, cute boys.”

  That last item on the list made Sabrina smile, proof that she’d been able to hear her mother all along. She pulled out an earbud. “Can we get ice cream?”

  “Of course we can. You can’t go to Moonlight Harbor and not get ice cream at the ice cream parlor.”

  At last they reached their destination. There was the same white-rock gateway to the town that Jenna remembered, one of the first things to go up when the town was new.

  Hmm. She didn’t remember the molehills rising like tiny mountains from the grass on both sides of the gateway. But there were flowers in the flower beds. Someone cared. And maybe they didn’t want to hurt the moles. She knew the many deer who roamed the town were a protected species, so why not the moles?

  They turned in and started down the main road through town, Harbor Boulevard, named for the harbor that sat at the south end of town. Once a bustling harbor with a ferry service to Westhaven, a busy fishing town across the bay, it had gotten silted in over the years and was no longer viable for commercial use, although the pier was still there.

  The town’s lifeblood was now tourism, and shops and restaurants abounded, with a couple of small, dated motels sandwiched in between. Many of the businesses were housed in buildings that had gone up in the sixties. But some new buildings had also sprung up, including an eye-catching group of cabana-style shops all painted in beachy colors of turquoise and mint green, yellow and an orange that made Jenna think of Creamsicles, offering everything from women’s clothing to kites. And there was a new addition, an art gallery. If Damien had known about that maybe they’d have made more trips to the beach. The seafood restaurant shaped like a lighthouse was still in business. Jenna had alw
ays loved the whimsy of that place.

  In spite of the drizzle, people were out shopping. Many of them were seniors (hardly surprising considering the fact that there was a large retirement community there), but Jenna saw a few young families and some couples, as well. Where were the cute boys?

  As if reading her mind, Sabrina asked, “Where are the kids my age?”

  “They’re here.” Somewhere.

  Jenna stole a look at her daughter. She was assessing the town and so far she didn’t look impressed.

  Farther ahead, on the left, sat Good Times Ice Cream Parlor, one of Jenna’s favorite haunts when she was her daughter’s age. Right next to it was the Go-Go Carts go-cart track and the Paradise Fun-Plex, which consisted of a miniature golf course and an arcade. This should improve Sabrina’s mood.

  Indeed it did. Her daughter was actually smiling.

  “You ready for ice cream?” Jenna asked.

  Sabrina nodded and they pulled in. The parlor itself was housed in one-half of the square building, painted pink with white trim. An arcade took up the other half. And next to that was the go-cart track and the miniature golf course. Good times indeed.

  A giant cement strawberry ice cream cone sat out in front of the ice cream parlor, perfect for photo ops, although with the drizzle no one was bothering. Inside several people sat in booths or at little white wrought-iron tables and enjoyed double-scoop cones, sundaes and milkshakes. A retired couple frowned at a woman with a crying toddler who was trying to pay for ice cream for two little boys who were chasing each other back and forth. A middle-aged couple shared what looked like a hot-fudge sundae. A couple of teenage girls and a boy with scraggly hair, wearing a Seahawks sweatshirt over baggy jeans, stood at the counter, selecting ice cream while the pimply-faced boy behind the counter waited for them to decide.

  He caught sight of Sabrina and his eyes widened in appreciation. She gave him a discouraging frown. His customers turned to see what he was staring at and the other boy smiled at Sabrina. She smiled back, but the two girls gave her the stare of death, which of course brought back her frown.