Welcome to Moonlight Harbor

by Sheila Roberts

  “When did you last see her?” he asked.

  “This morning,” Jenna said, and burst into sobs. Now maybe she’d never see her daughter again. If only she’d let her stay behind with Mom. If only she could turn back time. If only, if only.

  “Okay. Any other place she could possibly be?”

  At seven-thirty at night? She should have been home, playing cards with Aunt Edie or scribbling in her journal. Her journal! Maybe that held a clue.

  Jenna gave the officer the picture she had of Sabrina in her wallet and an Amber alert was put out. Then she broke the sound barrier getting back to the house.

  “Did you find her?” Aunt Edie called as Jenna raced up the stairs.

  “Not yet,” Jenna called back. Please, God, let us find her. Let her be okay.

  Sabrina had left behind her journal. There it sat on her dresser. Jenna had never been one to snoop through her daughter’s things. Maybe she should have.

  She turned to the last page and read.

  My mom is the most selfish person in the universe. She could have let me go back with Aunt Celeste and then come and gotten me later whenever she wanted. Grandma wouldn’t care how long I stayed. I know Aunt Celeste would have taken me. She was just afraid to say yes cuz of Mom. It’s not fair. I want to go see Marigold. I want to see Daddy. Caroline says I shouldn’t sit around and feel sorry for myself. I should do something. I’m going to.

  Oh, Lord. Jenna bolted off the bed and ran back down the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Aunt Edie called.

  “To find Sabrina. Don’t worry!” As if telling someone not to worry ever worked. Especially when a child’s safety was at stake.

  A few moments later she was back at Nora’s house. Nora answered the door. “Did you find her?”

  “No, but I have a strong suspicion of where she’s gone. I need to talk to Caroline again.”

  Caroline was called back down. The smirk was gone now and she was looking sullen. Jenna guessed the threatened phone call had been made and the child was getting shipped off. Good. Even if she weren’t, there would be no more Caroline encounters at the beach for Sabrina. Ever.

  If Jenna could find her.

  She fought back a wave of nausea and forced herself to be patient. She sat on the sofa and beckoned Caroline over.

  The girl sat on the edge of the sofa and looked at her warily.

  “Caroline, I know you don’t want to rat out Sabrina, but I need to make sure she’s safe,” Jenna said, forcing herself to sound calm. “Can you just tell me, did she go back to her dad?”

  The sullen look was now replaced with something akin to pity. “She misses him. She wanted to go back.”

  “I know. I was actually going to surprise her and take her tomorrow.”

  “You were?”

  “I was. Did you girls by any chance walk down to the bus stop toward the end of town?”

  Caroline bit her lip.

  It was all the answer Jenna needed. She reached out and touched the girl’s arm. “It’s okay. You kept her secret. But you know what would have been even better? To tell me what she was planning. Now we don’t know if she’s safe.”

  Caroline’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she turned and ran back up the stairs to her room.

  “Good,” Nora said, watching her go. “Maybe she’s learned a valuable lesson today.”

  Jenna knew she had. She should have done a better job of meeting her daughter’s needs.

  Her phone rang. “Bad Boys,” Damien’s ringtone. She didn’t give him time to say anything. “Is Sabrina with you?”

  “Yeah, we’re driving to your mom’s place right now. What the hell were you thinking, Jenna?” he demanded.

  “She ran away. Didn’t she tell you that?”

  “What? Sabrina, were you out of your mind?”

  “She missed you and she wanted to see you,” Jenna said. “I’ve been making excuses for you and she finally got tired of being put off. I should have told her the truth. She’d never have run away if she’d known what a selfish shit you are, that you don’t want to see her.”

  “I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “Let me talk to her,” Jenna demanded.

  “I don’t think so. She’s upset.”

  “What do you know or care about our daughter’s feelings?” Jenna yelled. But no one was there to yell at. He’d ended the call.

  “Is she okay?” Nora asked.

  “Yeah. My ex has got her. They’re on their way to my mom’s.” Jenna let out her breath and allowed her heart to slow down. She felt a million years old. She called her aunt to let her know Jenna had been found; then, after thanking Nora for her support, returned to the house.

  Aunt Edie looked like she, too, had aged in just one hour. “Thank God nothing happened to her,” she said after Jenna had filled her in.

  “I swear, I’d put her on restriction for life if I didn’t feel so guilty,” Jenna said.

  “Young girls don’t always think things through,” Aunt Edie said in Sabrina’s defense. “Their brains are still developing.”

  “And while her brain is developing I’m developing an ulcer,” Jenna said, leaning back against the sofa cushions.

  An hour later her mother called. “I wanted you to know that our girl is now in bed, recovering from her big adventure.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover,” Jenna said.

  “I guess she had one harrowing moment. It certainly scared me hearing about it. Some old guy tried to pick her up in Quinault where she had to change buses, but a woman took her under her wing and helped her transfer to the right one to get back to Seattle. She called Damien and you know the rest.”

  “All except for where she got the money. I never gave it to her.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t like this part. She stole it out of Aunt Edie’s purse.”

  Once again, Jenna felt ill. “Oh, no.”

  “We already had a talk about that. And about how worried you had to have been. She’s sorry she upset you and she promises to write Aunt Edie a note and ask her forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, well, she’ll be doing more than that. She’ll be babysitting and mowing lawns until she’s paid Aunt Edie back every penny.”

  “A good idea,” Mel approved. “Why don’t you let her stay with me for a while and I’ll supervise her rehabilitation.”

  “What, reward her for her bad behavior?”

  “No, just let the dust settle.”

  “You know what’s so sad about all this? I was planning to surprise her and you and bring her for a visit tomorrow.”

  “Maybe I’ll lay on the guilt and mention that. We’ll have another talk in the morning. And now it gets worse.”

  How could it?

  “She told her father that she knows you’ll pay Aunt Edie back since you won all that money at the casino and now you’re rich.”

  Another wave of nausea hit. Damien knew about the money. If he knew how much Jenna won she’d be hearing from his lawyer. That revocable settlement had sounded like such a good idea at the time. “This way, if your income takes a dip you can renegotiate,” her lawyer had told her. There’d be some renegotiating, all right.

  But maybe... “Did she tell him how much?”

  “I’m afraid she did.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Maybe he won’t do anything.”

  And maybe Jenna would wake up in the morning and discover she’d turned into a mermaid. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”

  “Of course. You probably need to process all this.”

  “No, I need to go throw up.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  To Do:

  Give up

  In spite of the fireworks up and down the beach
, the Fourth of July had been lackluster for Jenna. She’d sat on Aunt Edie’s back porch along with her aunt, Pete and Seth and stared unseeing at the enormous bursts of color splashing against a black sky. Aunt Edie had made Italian sodas and baked brownies. Jenna had passed on the brownies and only taken a couple of sips of her drink.

  “She’ll miss you and come back,” Aunt Edie had predicted.

  “I don’t know. She’s wanted to be with her father all along.” And, after the Fourth, that was where she was going. Damien’s parents were making room for her in the spare bedroom. It would be shopping trips with the rich grandma by day and horror movies at night with Damien and Aurora the princess. “He’s perfect, you know,” Jenna had added bitterly.

  “Perfect until he isn’t,” Seth had said. “If he’s anything like you say he is, her eyes are going to get opened pretty quick.”

  That made Jenna sad, too. She hated the idea of her daughter having to be disappointed in her father.

  “It will all work out,” Aunt Edie had assured her.

  Yes, one way or another. It was that “another” Jenna was worried about.

  Her worries increased when she got the letter from Damien’s lawyer on Friday. As there has been a change in your circumstances, it began, and then went downhill from there.

  She called her lawyer. “Well, this could be a problem,” he said, “because of the revocable settlement.”

  The cursed revocable settlement! That had been meant to work in her favor. Now it was screwing her over. “What do you suggest I do?”

  “You could go to court and fight him. Of course, you’ll spend some money doing that,” the lawyer cautioned. “I suggest you pay him to make him go away. We can negotiate something with the stipulation that he can’t increase the maintenance. No coming back to the well again.”

  “Okay, make a deal,” she said, and ended the call with a frown.

  “Is he going to take all your money?” Aunt Edie asked, making Jenna almost drop her phone.

  She’d been sitting on the back porch, sure her aunt wouldn’t hear, but there Aunt Edie stood in the doorway, her brow furrowed.

  “Have you been eavesdropping?” Jenna teased. That would teach her not to go far away from the house for important calls. She’d been so caught up in her anger she’d never even heard the door open. She managed a smile. See? Everything’s fine.

  Aunt Edie didn’t smile. Who do you think you’re kidding?

  By the time their friends arrived for the usual Friday night gathering neither of them was in a party mood. In fact, Aunt Edie didn’t look well.

  Their discouragement didn’t go unnoticed. “Has something bad happened?” Nora asked.

  “You could say that,” Jenna replied, and shared the latest development. She tried to gloss over the dire implications, but her aunt wasn’t stupid. Watching the old woman’s lower lip tremble made Jenna want to cry.

  “It’s sick and wrong,” Courtney said. “What are you going to do?”

  Jenna knew what she’d like to do. Send the poor excuse for a man that was her ex a bomb in the mail. “I’m going to settle before he hauls me into court.”

  “Men are such bums,” Courtney said in disgust.

  “Not all men,” Nora corrected her.

  No, only the ones in Jenna’s life.

  “Between Damien and Uncle Sam I’m not going to end up with enough money to put the roof on the Driftwood,” she confided to Tyrella when her aunt wasn’t listening.

  “Don’t you give up. We’ll go back to praying.”

  Jenna was too discouraged to pray and said as much.

  “That’s why you’ve got friends,” Tyrella said.

  “And which one of you has a big pile of money sitting around with no place to go?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something,” Tyrella said, and hugged her.

  Short of robbing the bank, Jenna didn’t see any way of getting that money.

  After the women went home and Aunt Edie went to bed, she made her way to the beach with some newspaper, matches and kindling. With the aid of the moon she found a couple of pieces of dry wood and made herself a fire. Who knew how much longer she’d be able to stay, how many more beach fires she could enjoy?

  “I thought this fire belonged to you,” said the familiar deep voice. Seth sat down on the log next to her.

  “I needed a beach fire.” Actually, she needed a fairy godmother.

  “There’s something about the beach,” he said. “You come here and your troubles can’t find you.”

  “Yeah, right. Mine found me just fine.”

  “Only temporarily. The tide can wash them away.”

  “That was very poetic,” she complimented him.

  “Yeah, that’s me. Poetic.” He draped an arm around her. “What’s wrong now? Your kid’s safe, you’re rolling in dough. How come you’re not smiling?”

  “Because my ex found out I was rolling in dough. There won’t be enough left to roll in by the time he’s done.”

  “That sucks,” said Seth, the master of understatement.

  “I needed that money. Oh, Seth, what am I going to do?”

  “I wish I had a solution for you.”

  “Nothing’s turned out the way I expected. I thought we’d all be so happy here. I thought I could help Aunt Edie. Instead, we did all this work for nothing and I can’t finish the renovations. Nobody will stay at the Driftwood and we’ll lose the place and that will break Aunt Edie’s heart. And my daughter...” Didn’t want to be with her. Jenna’s throat constricted and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Seth tightened his hold on her and pulled her against him. “I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m really, really sorry. I wish I could make it all better for you. I wish life was like the movies.”

  Now she was sobbing, and he kissed the top of her head and continued to murmur that it would all be okay. But it wouldn’t. The fire finally died and she stopped crying. He put out the embers, took her hand and led her back through the dunes to the house, neither one speaking.

  Finally, at the stairs to the back porch, he turned her to him and kissed her. It melted her, not with passion but with tenderness. Yes, if only they’d met years ago, before Damien, before Seth’s troubles. He’d have become an English teacher and they’d have come to the beach every summer. He’d have helped Uncle Ralph keep the place up and they’d have both been there for Aunt Edie and there’d have been no need for huge chunks of money to repair the damage done by the sands of time. If only you could go back.

  But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even hang on to the present. That quickly moved into the past, slipping away. She clung to Seth in an effort to hold the moment, but at last he broke them apart.

  He held her firmly by the arms. “You’re a brave woman, Jenna. Remember that. No matter what happens, remember that.”

  No, she wasn’t brave. She bit her lip and nodded and went into the house. She wanted to climb into bed and pull the covers over her head just like her daughter would.

  Her daughter.

  Jenna cried herself to sleep.

  It was a troubled sleep, with her on the beach, trying to run in the sand and getting very little traction. People kept rushing past her—Damien, holding hands with Aurora and waving and laughing, her daughter chasing after them.

  “Wait, Sabrina!” she called. “Don’t leave me.”

  But Sabrina kept running, her hair, once again reddish gold, flying in the wind.

  And there went Aunt Edie. She was a wraith, floating on the wind, crying. Her cries turned into howling and the wind picked up and Jenna whimpered, “I’m sorry, Aunt Edie. I’m sorry.”

  She was crying when she woke. The sun was streaming in her window and the dolls on the window seat were smiling at her, mocking her. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew her nose, pick
ed up her cell phone and checked the time. Nine a.m.

  Nine in the morning and she didn’t smell breakfast. That wasn’t normal. She went downstairs and found the kitchen empty. No Aunt Edie making bacon or sitting at the table sipping coffee.

  Filled with dread, Jenna ran back up the stairs to her aunt’s room. She knocked on the door, then opened it and stepped inside. Aunt Edie was still in bed. Oh, dear God.

  Jenna ran to the bed. “Aunt Edie!”

  Her aunt opened an eye and looked at her. “What time is it?” Her voice was so weak.

  “It’s nine.”

  Aunt Edie sighed and the eye shut again. “I’m tired, Jenna.”

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Aunt Edie was never tired.

  “Are you okay?” What were the symptoms for a heart attack again? Sweating, headache, confusion. No sweat on her aunt’s forehead. “What day is it?”

  “It’s Saturday, dear. Let’s sleep in.”

  Okay, no confusion. Still. “But you never sleep in.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to get up.”

  Her aunt was, indeed, sick. Sick at heart.

  “You stay in bed and rest,” Jenna said. “I’ll make you some tea and toast.”

  Aunt Edie said nothing, just lay there.

  Jenna tried not to sob as she went downstairs to the kitchen. Her poor aunt. She’d looked to Jenna to rescue her and this was what she’d gotten.

  Pete banged on the kitchen door and Jenna let him in.

  “You’re not dressed,” he said accusingly, taking in her sleep T-shirt.

  “We slept late.”

  “Where’s Edie?”

  “She’s in bed.”

  Pete’s cranky expression turned to concern. “In bed? Is she all right?” His voice was threaded with panic.

  “She doesn’t feel well.”

  “Why haven’t you called the doctor?” he demanded, marching to the kitchen phone. “Edie’s never in bed at this hour of the morning. You should have known something was wrong.”

  She’d been in bed herself, so how could she have known? She kept the retort to herself. Pete was worried. She got that.

  “Lizzy,” he growled into the phone. “Get ahold of Doc and tell him to come over to Edie’s place. Something’s wrong... I know it’s his day off. So what? Tell him to get out of his damned golf cart and get over here right away.” He hung up and glared at Jenna. “You should have called the doctor.”