by Jan Moran
“Looks like you’ve done a lot here.”
“My family helped me a lot. Shelly moved in from New York, and our brothers helped us renovate. We converted the house to an inn and managed to make a go of it last year. The house has had quite a history, too.”
“I’m sorry about your husband,” Marina said, touching Ivy’s hand. Even eighteen years later, she still missed Stan and her parents. If not for Ginger, she and her sisters would have been adrift.
“I appreciate that,” Ivy said. “He died suddenly, and I don’t know what I would have done without Shelly and Poppy. I never dreamed I would return to Summer Beach, but I’m so glad I did. Are you married?”
“Not now. I was widowed when I was pregnant, but my twins are in college now.” She didn’t mention Grady; she’d wasted enough time on him. As much as that stung, she was more worried about her finances and finding another job. Time to move on, Ginger would say.
“I also have two daughters,” Ivy said. “We’ll have to continue this talk later. We have so much in common.”
“I’d like that. I remember we had such fun that summer.” Marina tried the yogurt, which was also delicious. “Do you remember lounging around the beach bonfire, listening to a surfer guy play the guitar?”
“Do I ever.” Ivy chuckled. “That surfer is now the mayor. Bennett Dylan. A wildfire swept across the ridgetop last year, and several locals moved in while their homes were being rebuilt. Bennett is living in the old chauffeur’s apartment above the garage.”
“No kidding?” Marina shook her head. “Guess we all grew up.”
“And what do you do now?” Ivy asked.
“I’ve been a news anchor on a station in San Francisco.” Marina hesitated. “I’m in the process of finding another position right now. Until then, I thought I’d check in on my grandmother.”
Ivy smiled. “Ginger is a sweetheart. And very interesting.”
“That she is,” Marina said, wondering if she could reach her on board the ship. Not that this was an emergency. If Marina put the situation in perspective, it was merely an inconvenience—on her part, not her grandmother’s. Why should she disturb Ginger? Still, it would be nice to know when Ginger was returning.
Ginger traveled often. She was fiercely independent and frequently left on holidays or work assignments on short notice. Even at her age, she was still in demand. Marina knew little about what her grandmother did, other than Ginger was a skilled statistician.
Just numbers, darling. Nothing as glamorous as what you do. No one is ever interested in what I do at cocktail parties.
Maybe that’s why Ginger loved to tell stories. Yet, Ginger was brilliant in math. She loved finding and explaining patterns, and she’d helped them all with their homework. If a kid from a farm in Oklahoma can be good in math, so can you. Marina had learned fractions at the age of five by helping Ginger bake cookies—she was that good.
“Would you like a refill on that coffee?” Ivy asked.
“I’d love one,” Marina replied. As she finished her breakfast, the two women caught up. Marina was fascinated with Ivy’s story of the valuable artifacts found concealed in the basement and throughout the house. Marina loved listening to people, which was one reason she’d made a good reporter—a job she enjoyed more than being a news anchor, but she’d needed the salary increase for the twins.
As they spoke and laughed over shared memories, Marina touched Ivy’s arm. “I’m so glad we’ve reconnected. It’s nice to find a friend here.” She saw kindness and strength in Ivy’s eyes.
“I think we’re going to be very good friends again,” Ivy said, smiling. “You’re going to like living here.”
“I wish I could, but I have to find another job soon.”
“Maybe you’ll find something to do here. Lots of people telecommute or run businesses from home these days.”
That was something Marina hadn’t considered, and it was intriguing.
A little while later, Poppy appeared holding Marina’s phone, her eyebrows arched in concern. “I found a charger that you can keep, but while I was helping another guest, a lot of messages poured through. It’s been dinging all the way here.” She handed Marina the phone and charger.
Marina sucked in a breath. She saw Heather’s number on the screen, as well as messages from Ethan and Brooke and Kai. Marina’s heart quickened. What on earth had happened? “I have to return these calls right away. Is there a place here…?” She glanced around.
“In the library,” Poppy said. “It’s private. Here, I’ll help you.”
Marina struggled to her feet and awkwardly made her way to the library. Ivy rushed behind with a glass of water for her, and Poppy plugged in the charger and the phone.
“Let us know if you need anything,” Ivy said, giving Marina a quick hug. She and Poppy closed the door.
What could have happened? Marina pressed a hand to her heart and called her daughter first. Heather answered on the first ring.
“Mom, where are you?” Heather’s words tumbled out. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. Aunt Brooke called the police, and the landlord let them into the apartment. You weren’t there, and I’ve been so worried, and—”
“Calm down. I’m in Summer Beach. I came down to see Ginger. I’m sorry to worry you, but I didn’t have a charger for my phone. What’s wrong?”
Heather paused. “So…you haven’t been on social media?”
“No, why? Should I check?” Marina shuddered, wondering if the news clip had gone viral.
Heather cried out, “No, Mom, don’t. Please, just don’t. It’s awful.”
Chapter 3
Alone in the library, Marina stared at the screen on her phone with a sinking heart. Her daughter’s voice floated to her, imploring her not to look.
She had to. And when she did, her self-esteem took a direct blow, leaving her gasping for air.
Marina stared at an awkward moving image. After working hard for years to attain her professional status, she had been reduced to a meme, a silly video clip that played the worst blunder of her career over and over. She watched herself break into tears and flail at the desk. Below that, the ridicule was coming in fast.
Oops, she’s out of a job—forever! So, honey, was he worth it? Ha, ha, ha! Typical bubble-headed news anchor—not a brain in her head! What an idiot!
And worse. Much, much worse.
Marina squeezed her eyes against the hateful comments.
“Mom, are you still there?”
She sighed and lifted the phone. “I’m here.”
“You looked, didn’t you?”
“I did.” Marina hesitated, hating to tell her daughter about the late-night show, but needing to shield her from being blindsided by it. She quickly told her.
“That’s horrible, and I’m so angry,” Heather cried. “It’s all Grady’s fault. Ethan and I never liked him.”
“I know, sweetheart.” At the time, Marina had thought her children were jealous after having had their mother to themselves all these years.
“You weren’t on the air this morning,” Heather said softly.
“I turned in my notice. It was either that or wait ten seconds to be fired. Guess I should call Brooke, huh?”
“And Kai. I called her, too. And every friend of yours that I could reach. Oh, Mom, now I know how it feels when you can’t reach me. I’m so sorry I’ve worried you in the past. I really thought something had happened to you, that you might have had an accident…”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetie,” Marina said. She’d never heard such concern in Heather’s voice, and she felt bad for worrying her. “I’m going to stay here for a couple of weeks and sort out my life. I’ve booked into a pretty bed-and-breakfast called the Seabreeze Inn until Ginger returns.” She hesitated. “I should speak to Ethan, too. Is he around?” The twins shared an apartment near the Duke campus in Durham, North Carolina.
“He’s taking an exam right now, but you can call him later.”
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br /> “How’s Ethan doing in school?” Marina asked, worried about her son’s progress. Ethan had struggled with dyslexia throughout school. However, he had a natural talent for sports, and he’d received a golf scholarship, which helped. Heather had followed her brother to Duke to help him with his academics.
“Ethan is improving,” Heather said, sounding upbeat. “It’s tough for him, but he’ll be okay. His golf game is on fire, so he’s happy about that.”
“Thanks for helping him,” Marina said. However, she suspected that Ethan was struggling more than either of her children wanted to admit. She worried about Ethan. He was smart, but he simply needed more time to complete his studies, which frustrated him.
After calling her sisters and reassuring them, Marina dialed her agent’s number. “Hi Gwen, it’s Marina.”
“Hi, Marina. Figured I’d hear from you soon.”
“Well, it looks like I’m finally available,” Marina said airily, trying to diminish the severity of the situation.
“About that,” Gwen said, sounding uncomfortable. “ I think you need to take some time off.”
“I am, but I’ll be ready to go back to work in two or three weeks.”
Gwen sighed. “Have you been online? Watched television at all?”
“I have, and while those videos are unfortunate, I have a long career that speaks for itself.”
“In a few months, when this mess dies down, I might be able to place you in a smaller market.”
Marina pressed her lips together in a grim line. That would mean moving out of San Francisco. “How much smaller?”
“A lot. Look, given the recent events and your age—”
“I’m at the top of my game, and I look good for my age,” Marina shot back. She certainly did everything she could to keep herself camera-ready. Her male co-host could develop a little belly, but not her. And if her hair or dress weren’t to viewers’ liking, they’d hear complaints. Never mind the writing, interviews, soundbites, camera presence, and other things required of her. “I’m more than a news reader. You know I’ve always excelled at my job. This snafu was a one-off event that any guy would be forgiven in ten minutes.”
“You’ve known there would come a time,” Gwen said gently.
Marina grew quiet. “As it did for you.” Her agent had once been a top news anchor.
“Once this fiasco passes, maybe you could do special interviews. Softer news, celebrity interviews. You could still be a big fish in a smaller market. Of course, you’d have to move.”
“There’s nothing in San Francisco?”
“I’ve already checked,” Gwen said. “I knew you’d be calling. Take some time off. Six months, a year.”
“I can’t afford to. My twins just started college.”
“I’m sorry, Marina. Believe me, if I could create a position for you, I would. Tough break.” She paused. “If it’s any consolation, Babe was reprimanded, too. Though she’s still there.”
Marina clenched her jaw. “You’ll let me know if anything pops up?”
“Of course. Try something else for a few months. You could write a book, lecture at a college, or tutor.”
None of that would pay anywhere close to what she had been making. After Marina hung up, she sat in the stillness of the old mahogany-paneled library. Leather-bound books stared silently down at her.
As she had so many times since Heather and Ethan had been born, she thought about Stan and wondered what he would advise. He’d been her best friend from childhood. That was a lot like her parents, who’d known each other in school. Only she and Stan had waited to have children, unlike her parents, who married and started their family right after high school.
When Marina returned to college after the accident, Stan had been her rock. They’d married right after graduation, eager to start their lives. He entered an officer’s training program in the Marines, and they moved around the country as he was stationed at different bases. Marina always found work in restaurants, favoring quaint little cafes. And then just as they’d decided to start a family, Stan was deployed to Afghanistan.
A month after Stan left, Marina discovered she was pregnant. Marina was delighted. She had told him what she suspected, and he was thrilled. Get a test and make sure, sweetheart. Can’t wait to hear the news. The day her test results were confirmed she could hardly wait to tell him.
Instead, two uniformed officers knocked on her door. She could still hear their words: The Commandant of the Marine Corps has entrusted me to express his deep regret…
As she thought about Stan—and his sense of honor and duty—she was even more ashamed of her relationship with Grady. How could she have been so gullible as to fall for someone like that?
Never again.
Marina pushed herself up onto her crutches. As devastating as the events of the past two days had been, she would not buckle—not this time, not any time.
That afternoon, Dr. Russell Stein had stopped by and recommended icing, elevation, and compression. Now, with her ankle wrapped, Marina decided to make the best of the situation and sit by the pool, deserted on this midweek day.
Ivy helped Marina outside and found a spot for her under a marine-blue umbrella on a chaise lounge.
“What spectacular architecture,” Marina said, gazing up at the old grand dame of a house surrounded by tall palm trees as stately as sentinels on guard. She wondered what this place was like in its heyday in the 1920s and 1930s, although it was still an elegant old home.
“Julia Morgan designed it,” Ivy said. “She was the first licensed female architect in California, and she also designed the Hearst Castle for William Randolph Hearst, the newspaper magnate. This house belonged to the Ericksons of San Francisco. It was their summer home.”
“What a great location on the beach for you,” Marina said. Wide stone steps from the veranda and terraces led right to the sand. Statues stood around a pool decorated with marble and serpentine tiles. “Although I can’t imagine what the electricity bill runs.”
“That’s why we run it as an inn,” Ivy said. “Still, the ocean breezes keep the house fairly cool for most of the year.”
Marina put a cushion under her leg to elevate her ankle. “I’m impressed with how you handled the situation after your husband died. How did you know what to do?”
“We didn’t,” Ivy said, perching on a chair next to her. “Shelly and I had our share of challenges, but we also had a lot of fun getting the business underway. And I love getting up every day. It’s not like work at all; it’s just what I love to do.”
Marina grew quiet, listening. She could hardly imagine feeling that way about work.
Shelly came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a tall drink on it. “Here at the inn, we have a delicious concoction called a Sea Breeze. Grapefruit juice and cranberry juice and a splash of lime.”
“Is that virgin or fully loaded?” Ivy asked. “Meaning vodka.”
“Optional by request,” Shelly said.
Marina took a sip. “It’s perfect as it is. So refreshing.”
“Call us if you need anything,” Ivy said before she and Shelly left.
As Marina sipped on the cool juice cocktail, she tried to call Ginger, but the call went straight to voice mail. She left a message, trying to sound upbeat. Thought I’d surprise you.
“Well, you look comfortable,” Jack said, strolling past her chaise lounge.
“You couldn’t give me a break?” Marina waved at her ankle, which was propped up on cushions and covered with an ice pack.
“Since you brought it up, did you find out if it’s a break or a sprain?”
“Mild sprain, the doctor says, although it sure hurt. Evidently, I have youthful ligaments.” She made a face and tugged the straw sunhat Ivy had given her lower over her sunglasses.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Jack grinned and stripped off his T-shirt.
“What are you doing?”
A shadow of a smile crossed Jack’s face. “Going for
a swim. Don’t get any ideas.”
Marina rolled her eyes. Behind her dark sunglasses, she caught a glimpse of his muscular back before looking away. Not too bad, she thought, grudgingly. Seconds later, he splashed into the pool and began swimming.
Folding her arms, Marina watched him plow through the water. Here she was, trapped with a boy-man with no means of a rapid escape. At least he was underwater. Marina eased back on the chaise lounge.
At once, her phone rang.
“Darling Marina, I just heard your message,” Ginger said over the phone. “I’m so glad you’ve come for a visit. How long can you stay?”
“Oh, a couple of weeks or so.” Marina tried to sound nonchalant.
“Is anything wrong?”
She couldn’t fool Ginger. “It’s a long story, but I quit my job.”
“I see. Well, I’ll be home tomorrow. I’m glad you’re at the Seabreeze Inn. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
After she hung up the call, Marina leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to doze off under the soft sway of palm trees, their rustling fronds lulling her into a relaxed state she hadn’t known in a long time. In the distance, she could hear a dog barking. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere on the property.
She was almost asleep when she felt droplets of water land on her face and sunglasses. “Hey,” she cried.
“Oh, sorry,” Jack said. He slung a towel over his shoulders and brushed his wet hair back. “Are you in town for long?”
“Not really,” she said, trying to be noncommittal.
“I just realized I don’t know your name.”
She sighed. “I’m Marina. And what brings you to Summer Beach?”
“I’m working on a story.”
“Hmm. Journalist or a novelist?”
He looked impressed. “Investigative reporter by trade, now on a sabbatical. Tossing around some book ideas.”
“About what?”
“I’d rather not say.”
Marina eased her sunglasses down and glared over the top of them at him. “It’s not like I’m going to steal your idea.”
