Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

by Laurie Larsen

  “Marianne,” he began, his determination to control his anger during this moment of togetherness clear, even to her ears. “You’ve done it again. This really surprises me about you. I’ve never seen you this out of control with Stella before.”

  She took a ragged breath, her stomach clenching and tears threatening her eyes. “You interrupted me before I could tell you — I know I was wrong. In fact, I told Leslie I knew I handled it all wrong. I didn’t stop and think, I just reacted. I’m hyper-alert to perceived danger now.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “It’s maternal instinct, but you really need to get control over these cases where you fly off the handle unreasonably. You just end up scaring Stella, and that’s the last thing she needs.”

  Marianne nodded. “And I was unintentionally rude to that poor couple. They were just trying to help, and a crazy mama comes flying in, chasing them away. Bad advertising for the Inn, at the very least.”

  Tom shrugged. “I’m not worried about that. My worry is for Stella. You’ve got to get a grip on your emotions, Marianne.” His massaging increased in intensity. “Everything we do, Stella is watching. She’s a very smart child, an observant child. Not only have we never been through a kidnapping before, but let’s not forget she never has either. She has no idea how to react. She’s taking her cue from us. If we freak out and go crazy, so will she. And that’s not healthy.”

  Marianne sighed. “You’re right …”

  “She seems to have taken this thing in stride. She wasn’t hurt, she was found quickly, she’s safe. Let’s not screw that up by our emotional over-reactions.”

  Marianne opened her eyes and directed them at his. “When you say ‘our,’ you mean ‘my,’ don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah. Don’t you think I have crazy paternal instincts urging me to protect our child? Go hunt down that guy and make him pay? But I control them. I have to act in a way that is right for Stella. And you do too.”

  His massaging had crossed the border into downright painful, so she pulled her feet away. “Okay.”

  “Just stop and think before you act. You’re a reasonable person. Don’t let instinct take over. You know what you have to do. You have to make a safe home for Stella. Now, do it.”

  She nodded. Time to put on her big girl hat and be a mom again. The adult who knew what she was doing. The one in charge.

  She cleared her throat and savored another sip of wine. “I think Leslie needs to get back to work. And I’m sure my dad’s put off enough of his jobs too. Do you think we’re ready to take over the responsibilities of the Inn?”

  He gave a firm nod. “Yep. We’ll thank them for their help and take over again tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t I invite them over for dinner tomorrow night? I think we’re having shrimp scampi. I can reserve a big table and have a family celebration.”

  Tom raised his eyebrows. “A big table? Just for us, Hank and Leslie?”

  “I was thinking Jeremy and Emma too. And maybe I’ll reach out to some of the volunteer rescuers we know personally. Make it a ‘thank you’ dinner for everyone who helped bring our Stella back.”

  Tom straightened in his chair and his face crushed into disapproval. “I don’t know about that, Marianne.”

  “Why not?”

  He paused for just a moment too long. “It might be hard on Stella seeing all those people again.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean, it would bring back bad memories?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head. “I’m confused. Didn’t you just lecture me about not being overly protective of her? To get life back to normal? Stella loves parties. She loves big family dinners. I think this would be just what she’d want.”

  She knew him well enough to know when he was biting his tongue. “What? You really don’t want to host a thank you dinner for all the folks who helped us with Stella?”

  His lips tightened, like they were holding in words.

  “What is it, Tom? You’re worried about something, but it’s not how Stella would react to a fun dinner in her honor.”

  He thought one more moment, then shook his head. “No, you’re right. Go ahead and plan it. You invite the folks, I’ll talk to Toby tomorrow about the menu.”

  “How’s seven?” she asked. By then, the Inn guests would be done with their dinners, and would have wandered out of the dining room, leaving more open space for their celebration. And less people to disturb if they got loud.

  He nodded.

  She smiled, a sense of giddiness invading her. “Great. I feel good about this.” This would help them get back to normal. She and Tom were a couple who loved to entertain. And since they’d bought the Inn, they had plenty of space for it. Stella was raised with people and friends all around her. Perfect remedy. She stood and leaned over Tom’s head, landing a kiss on top of it. “I’ll get busy with phone calls before it gets too late.”

  * * *

  It was shortly after 9:30 when she called her brother.

  “Marianne? What’s wrong?”

  She chuckled. She couldn’t blame him for assuming disaster. “No, no, nothing. I’m sorry for the late call, but Tom and I just decided. We want to have a little party tomorrow night. We want to invite everyone who helped search for Stella. I mean, those ones we know and are personally acquainted with.”

  “Oh,” he breathed, and she could hear the relief in his voice.

  “I’m sure you can remember more names of volunteers than I can.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” They brainstormed and after ten minutes, Marianne had compiled a list of at least a dozen. With spouses and significant others, if everyone could attend, they’d have a real hoe-down.

  “That’s nice of you, Marianne. Those folks give up their personal time, in addition to work time and all, and tromp around looking for lost people. They don’t always get thanked. I’m sure they’ll really appreciate it.”

  “Tom’s working with Toby to make sure we have a great dinner. We’re setting it for seven o’clock. I assume you’re available?”

  Jeremy went silent. “Me?”

  Marianne laughed. “Of course, you. You and Emma were the ones who found her. You’re the guests of honor!”

  Another pause. “Did you say Tom approved this party?”

  Marianne frowned. “Well, he did eventually. Why do you ask?”

  “He didn’t like the idea originally?”

  Her brother was hemming and she wanted to know why. Now. “He thought maybe it would stir up bad memories for Stella. He’s just being protective. But he’s wrong. This will be wonderful for Stella and remind her how much everyone loves her.” She wrapped the curly-que phone cord around her finger from the old-fashioned phone behind the guest desk in the lobby. “What’s on your mind, Jeremy? Why are you worried about what Tom thinks?”

  “No, nothing. It’s a great idea, sis, but unfortunately, Emma and I can’t make it tomorrow night. We’ve got plans.”

  “Ohhh,” Marianne groaned, disappointed. “How about Monday night then?”

  “Don’t change your plans for us.”

  “No, it’s okay. You two have to be there. You guys found her. It’s the whole point of the dinner. I’d be happy to adjust the date of the party around your schedule.”

  Jeremy let out a breath of air.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. Why don’t you just come clean?”

  Jeremy chuckled, but to Marianne’s ears it sounded nervous and forced. “You’re paranoid, sis. Listen, you go ahead and plan for tomorrow night and we’ll do our best to be there.”

  “It won’t be the same without you.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  Chapter Six

  The next evening, the Inn glistened from the last-minute scrubbing Marianne had given it. Toby had outdone himself with not only the earlier dinner for the Inn guests, but the spur-of-the-moment dinner party for what turned out to be thirty-five guests.

  Marianne had tele
phoned all the search and rescue volunteers Jeremy had told her about, and happily, the majority were free. Marianne worked with Stella during the day to craft little party favors for each guest — a conch shell filled with sand and a candle, the shell straight from the collection Marianne kept of all the treasures she and Stella had picked up straight from the beach on morning walks.

  “Everyone coming for dinner tonight helped look for you, and helped bring you home safely,” she explained to Stella. The little girl smiled and nodded as she worked beside her mom on the creations.

  At seven, the Inn’s dining room filled up with grateful, hungry people, thrilled about the happy ending. Marianne imagined not all of their volunteer searches ended as well as this one had.

  The tables filled and Tom got on the microphone and said, “Thank you so much for joining us tonight. And more than anything, thank you for your volunteer hours, searching for our daughter Stella last week. It was easily the most terrifying night of our lives, but because of you all, she was safely found and brought home. Stella?”

  Stella walked over to her dad, who lifted her up onto his shoulders. She waved and the room exploded in a round of applause. Stella smiled and giggled.

  Marianne scanned the people in the room. Although Tom was thanking everyone for bringing her home safely, the two people who found her and actually brought her home, were glaringly absent. A stab of disappointment pierced her heart. Where was Jeremy? And what could he possibly have going on tonight that was more important than this? What was it that he couldn’t miss?

  Maybe he was just running behind schedule. If that was the case, she was sorry he’d missed Tom’s speech, but at least he’d still be here for dinner. She pulled out her cell phone and called him. The phone rang three times, then went to his voicemail. She waited for it to end, then said, “Jeremy, you should be here. Tom just thanked everyone for bringing Stella home safely. You’re missing this. Hope to see you soon.”

  Tom and Marianne helped the normal Inn wait staff in bringing out steaming plates of fresh shrimp scampi over rice, spinach salad and warm rolls to all the tables. Although Leslie insisted on helping, Marianne forced her to sit and enjoy her meal like the honored guest she was. Hank chuckled and patted his bride’s hand.

  Stella loved being the center of attention, and Marianne smiled watching her soak in the love and affection from all the folks who came over to their table to talk. She glanced at Tom. He didn’t seem in the least worried or anxious about the dinner anymore. She supposed he could see firsthand that Stella was blossoming.

  Homemade cheesecake with strawberry sauce ended the meal, along with coffee and cream. Marianne helped pass them all out, then sat to enjoy her own. Stella yawned and toyed at hers with a fork, then pushed it away.

  “What’s the matter, honey?”

  “I don’t like this,” she said.

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  She shook her head.

  Marianne scooped a tiny bite on her fork and directed it to Stella, but she shook her head. Poor little thing was tired out and getting grumpy. “That’s okay, sweetie, you don’t have to eat it.”

  “I want dessert, though!” she moaned.

  Marianne looked around. Last thing she needed was an emotional meltdown courtesy of the guest of honor. “We have vanilla ice cream. Do you want that?”

  Stella’s eyes lit up. “Ice cream!”

  Marianne pushed her chair back. “Okay, I’ll get it for you.”

  “But not vanilla.”

  Marianne swung her head back. “That’s the only flavor we have, honey.”

  Stella stuck her bottom lip out. “Chocolate peanut butter cup.”

  “We don’t have that.”

  Stella rolled her eyes and flung her body forward so fast she bumped her head on the table.

  Marianne never intentionally spoiled her child, however, she knew the beauty of picking her battles. If a quick trip to the grocery store would stop an inevitable over-tired temper tantrum, she’d rather pick the lesser of two evils. Stella sat upright, tears in her eyes. Marianne patted her hand. “All right, listen. I will go get you chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream, and you will continue to be a polite, happy little girl, you got me?”

  Stella pulled herself together and delivered a brave nod.

  Marianne glanced around the crowded dining room and found Tom a few tables away, talking. She stole over in his direction and clued him in on her sudden need to visit the grocery store. He frowned but nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  A few minutes later she was driving to the grocery store. It didn’t take long — nothing on Pawleys Island took long to reach. From tip to tip, it covered three miles, and only a quarter of a mile wide. Her car was a convenience, but certainly not a requirement here on the island.

  She pulled into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, grabbed her purse and trotted through the glass doors. She headed straight toward the freezer section and took only a moment to locate Stella’s favorite flavor. She grabbed it and turned, single-minded in her goal. She could return and slide a bowl of scooped ice cream in front of Stella not ten minutes after she left. She wasn’t counting on colliding with someone on her way to the same freezer. She dropped her carton. Apologizing for her clumsiness, she watched the tube-like container roll away on the floor. Marianne darted after it, bent and retrieved it before connecting eyes with her victim.

  “I’m so sorr …,” she came to a halt mid-sentence. “Emma!”

  Marianne had to hand it to her — her brother’s girlfriend managed to pop a happy smile on her face, even as she was rubbing her forehead from the conk it received against the freezer door. “Oh, hi Marianne.”

  “I’m so sorry I ran into you. I wasn’t watching. I was so excited to find this flavor. It was exactly what I needed.” She held up the carton with diminishing glee.

  Emma peered at the packaging. “Oh my, that does sound good. I think that would be worth a bump on the head.”

  Marianne groaned. “I feel so awful. I know we haven’t spent much time together. I’m really not this dangerous all the time.”

  Emma laughed. “No, not at all. Don’t be silly.”

  “Stella’s a little overstimulated from being the center of attention all night, and although I’m sure a sugar overload is the opposite of what she needs right now, I didn’t want to deal with the meltdown that was ensuing when she looked at her cheesecake.”

  Emma furrowed her brow, looking very much like a young woman who was trying to follow the train of thought but having absolutely no luck.

  Marianne sighed. “Listen to me babble.” She gave her head a brisk shake to try to clear it. “Never mind. What are you doing on Pawleys tonight?” Emma lived in Myrtle Beach, which, although not far, was much better stocked with grocery stores than their little island.

  Emma smiled. “Hanging out with Jeremy tonight. He made us burgers on the grill, and we both had a little sweet tooth. So I offered to run out for ice cream.”

  Marianne blinked, stared at the girl’s pretty face and massive mound of curly brown hair. “Tonight? You and Jeremy are hanging out at his house tonight?”

  Emma nodded happily.

  “Did you have plans earlier?” Her ears were starting to pound with the implication of what she was hearing. Jeremy had told Marianne he couldn’t come to Stella’s party because he and Emma had plans. Plans they couldn’t break to come to Stella’s party. But no, according to Emma, they’d been hanging out at his house eating hamburgers.

  What the heck?

  Emma shook her head, looking a little uncertain.

  “Emma, let me ask you something. Did Jeremy mention Stella’s party tonight?”

  “Stella? No. No, he didn’t.”

  The ice cream carton she had tucked under her arm was causing her skin to turn numb. She pulled it out, shifted it to her other hand. “Well, you have a nice night now.” She took off, only vaguely regretting the look of complete confusion on the girl’s face.


  * * *

  The guests were gone. Stella was in bed, sound asleep after enjoying her bowl of specially ordered ice cream, the kitchen was clean enough that Marianne could retire and finish putting all the clean dishes away tomorrow. She and Tom were in the bathroom, going through their bedtime routine.

  “I ran into Emma Slotky in the Piggly Wiggly tonight.”

  She glanced over at her husband. He was brushing his teeth, stopped momentarily, then shook his head, pointing at his ear. He mumbled something, leaned in and spit. “Couldn’t hear you. What?”

  “I said, I ran into Emma Slotky in the Piggly Wiggly tonight while I was getting Stella’s ice cream.”

  His expression tightened. He was quiet a moment, then stuck the toothbrush back in his mouth, brushing slowly. His eyes squinted. “Who?”

  Marianne scoffed. “What do you mean, who? You know who Emma Slotky is.”

  “Oh,” he said, awareness dawning. “Jeremy’s girl?”

  “Of course.”

  “Ah. That’s nice. Did you talk to her?”

  Marianne sighed and gave his arm a gentle but well-deserved punch. “Yes, of course I talked to her, and no, it’s not nice that I saw her there. Remember Jeremy told me that he and Emma had plans they couldn’t easily break, and that’s why they couldn’t come to Stella’s party tonight. But when I talked to Emma, she said they had just grilled hamburgers at his house, and he’d never even mentioned the party to her.”

  Tom spit again, rinsed out his mouth and the brush, and placed it carefully back in the stand. He started to walk toward the door and Marianne reached out and grabbed the tie belt of his bathrobe. “Don’t you think that’s rather odd, Tom?”

  Tom turned and shrugged. “No, not really.”

  Marianne frowned. “No? Why not?”

  “They’re a young couple, just getting to know each other. Spending an evening surrounded by people, when they could be home alone together, isn’t all that odd. In my opinion. Is all I’m saying.”

  Marianne shook her head. “Jeremy is big into family. I don’t buy it.”