by Judith Keim
Breakfast at The Beach House Hotel
The Beach House Hotel Series – Book 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Judith Keim | Wild Quail Publishing
For Joan and Charlie
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
About the Author
Acknowledgements
BOOKS BY JUDITH KEIM
CHILDREN’S BOOKS BY J. S. KEIM
Judith Keim
Wild Quail Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, public or private institutions, corporations, towns, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.
Wild Quail Publishing
PO Box 171332
Boise, ID 83717-1332
ISBN# 978-0-9964350-0-0
Copyright ©2015 Judith Keim
All rights reserved.
For Joan and Charlie
Thanks for being part of so many happy memories
including riding an imaginary train with me and Mrs. Eye-Jones.
CHAPTER ONE
I gripped the armrests of my seat as the jet accelerated down the runway with a roar of its engines. The plane lifted up into the air like an eagle in flight. I let out the breath I’d been holding and told myself to relax, that it was too late to make any changes, and I needed to escape the dreary weather of Boston and the drama of my recent life. And though I felt so vulnerable, so unable to find joy, staying with a total stranger wouldn’t be all that bad, would it? Not when it made Liz, my daughter, so happy.
She’d convinced me to fly with her to the Gulf Coast city of Sabal, Florida, to spend Thanksgiving as a guest of her freshman college roommate’s mother. I didn’t know Rhonda DelMonte, except through emails in which she’d chatted about the wonderful connection her sweet daughter, Angie, had made with Liz and me. She’d seemed friendly, but still ...
Tamping down my anxiety, I turned to Liz. “What are you reading?”
She held up her Cosmopolitan. “Not really reading, more like drooling over some sexy soap stars. One of them looks just right for you, Mom. Vaughn Sanders. He’s a real hottie.”
I gave her a weak smile. After all my heartbreak, the thought of dating anyone made my stomach curl.
Liz gave my hand a squeeze. “Mom, I’m so glad we’re making this trip. Dad is being such a jerk, and I can’t stand you-know-who.”
I gazed out the window at the clouds that caressed the plane with long white fingers. As I stared at the mistiness outside, I wondered what I was going to do with my life. The divorce had happened so suddenly I wasn’t ready for all that followed. I couldn’t help a snort of disgust. Breaking up with me, Robert had declared he no longer wanted to be a wallflower at the dance of life. As if he’d ever been that poetic! I knew very well it took two to tango, but I’d been caught off guard that he’d chosen a new dance partner—the young, voluptuous receptionist in his office just a few years older than Liz. “Kandie with a K” is what she’d called herself, flashing a smile and a generous peek at her implanted breasts. No doubt Roberts’s ridiculous wallflower comment had come from her and one of the silly magazines she constantly read at work.
Liz gave me a worried look. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. But inside, I was anything but okay. The divorce had left me without a home, a job, and with much less money than I’d thought.
Our landing was as smooth as the rest of the flight. Prepared to make the best of the situation, I gathered my things. This was the only vacation I’d have for months, perhaps years, to come.
We deplaned down steps onto the hot pavement of the airport apron. I drew a deep breath of the pungent, tropical air and stood a moment, admiring the tall Australian pines and palm trees lining the Sabal airport. I blinked against the brightness of the sunlight, and my heart lifted. I was so glad to be away from cold, gray New England.
“Hurry up, Mom!” said Liz impatiently. “Angie’s waiting.”
When we walked into the waiting area, Angie rushed forward and swept Liz into a warm embrace. Watching them, I smiled. With no siblings, they’d quickly become like sisters. I turned to Angie’s mother, and shocked, I rocked back on my heels. This was sweet, shy little Angie’s mother?
Wearing a bright-green, silk caftan and sparkly, gold and “diamond” sandals, Rhonda DelMonte stood before me like a large, tropical bird. Rhinestone-studded sunglasses rested atop her head, and huge diamonds, offset by a deep tan, winked at her ears, wrists, and throat. My gaze traveled up to Rhonda’s bleached-blond hair pulled away from her full face and gathered in a knot at the base of her head. Wide brown eyes, surrounded by lashes stiff with mascara, studied me openly.
“So, you made it!” Rhonda boomed, pulling me into a bosomy hug that reeked of Poison perfume. “Let’s see if we can put some color on that thin, little figure of yours!” She squinted at me. “And a sparkle in those eyes.”
Bowled over by her presence, I forced a smile.
She gave me a little jab in the arm. “Boy, have I heard a lot about you! But, don’t worry! It wasn’t all bad.” She let out a short burst of laughter and studied me. “Ann Rutherford sounds so formal. I’ve decided to call you Annie.”
“But ... but ...” I sputtered. I hated the name “Annie.” It reminded me too much of Little Orphan Annie. My own parents were killed in an auto accident when I was just five, leaving my strict grandmother to raise me. “I don’t ...”
“Don’t pay any attention to me.” Giving me a broad grin, Rhonda elbowed me playfully. “I have to dub people in my own way, and with those round blue eyes of yours, you’re an Annie if I ever saw one!”
Before I could respond, Liz tugged on my arm. “Mom! You have to come see what Angie got for an early Christmas present!”
She led me outside. A shiny, little white convertible was parked in the waiting zone.
Liz grinned. “Neat, huh? I’ve always wanted a Beemer!”
“It’s just perfect!” Angie gave her mother a quick hug. She might be a little spoiled, but she was a sweet girl. Dark-haired and quiet, she was a perfect match for my more outgoing blond daughter.
We loaded the car with the suitcases, and I squeezed into the backseat of the BMW with Rhonda. As we drove through town, it was difficult to hear Rhonda’s chatter above the rush of wind in my ears, but I strained to listen.
“Palm Avenue is one of the nicest shopping districts in Sabal. They have some beautiful
things.” Rhonda gave me a meaningful look. “You’ll be able to buy some bright, fun clothes, and not be quite so beige.”
Dismayed, I glanced down at the simple beige dress I was wearing.
“Don’t worry.” Rhonda winked. “We’ve got plenty of time for shopping.”
I sat back in my seat, realizing this short visit wasn’t going to seem short at all.
We left the commercial area and drove along a winding street lined with large, palatial homes. Angie slowed, entered a drive between two huge pillars, and pulled up in front of an enormous stucco mansion. Liz and I exchanged looks of amazement. Awed, my gaze swept across the extended façade of the house, and I wondered how many rooms it contained.
“This is The Beach House,” Rhonda announced proudly, indicating the lovely estate that belied its simple name. “It used to be a small hotel at one time, but now it’s where we live. Someday I may turn it back into a hotel—a kind of place for classy people. Your kind of place, Annie. Come on in! Manny will get your bags.”
Angie shook her head. “Mom, Manuel and Consuela are off for the holiday.”
Rhonda gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.” She turned to me. “Manny is my right-hand guy. You know what they say, every woman needs a Manny around the house!” Rhonda roared at her own joke, and I couldn’t help chuckling.
We entered the house through double, carved-wooden doors. As I stood in the tiled entry, I looked across the living room through a wide expanse of sliding glass doors that led to a lanai. It held a magnificent spa and an infinity-edge pool that appeared to be one with the sparkling blue water of the Gulf of Mexico just beyond. I was captivated by its beauty.
“It’s wonderful, Rhonda!”
She grinned. “Get comfortable. Then we’ll swim and have lunch.” With a flash of green silk, she disappeared into the back of the house.
Angie took the suitcase from my hand. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”
She led me upstairs into a sizeable room overlooking the broad expanse of beach and Gulf water. The walls, a rich cream color, were enhanced at the baseboards and the ceiling with wide, carved wooden moldings painted a contrasting stark white.
I set my bag down on the bed. The green in the plush, quilted bedspread was repeated in the mini-print draperies and, again, in the cream, patterned carpet.
“Lovely,” I murmured.
“A professional did it.” Angela gave me a knowing look. “My mother would go for pink flamingos on the lawn if you know what I mean.” Even as the corners of her mouth lifted, unconditional love shone in her eyes.
I smiled. Angie and her mother seemed as close as Liz and I.
Angie left, and before I unpacked my suitcase, I yanked off my beige, knit dress. I’d never wear it in Rhonda’s presence again. No doubt she’d order me to take it off. The woman had no idea about boundaries.
After settling in, I pulled on my new bathing suit, loving the thought that, while Robert and Kandie were coping with sleet and an early snow back home, Liz and I were able to enjoy tropical warmth in a gorgeous setting far away from them.
Standing on the balcony off the bedroom, I gazed down at the pool. The waterfall at one end sent glistening ripples dancing across the pool’s surface. The sound of the tumbling water was almost drowned out by the lapping of the Gulf on the broad, white beach beyond the house. Peace such as I hadn’t known for a long time wrapped around me, and the headache I’d developed after meeting Rhonda eased.
Downstairs, I walked outside and blinked rapidly from the glare off the water. I was pleased now I’d splurged and bought a new beach cover-up. After the cool November days up north, the sun felt especially hot.
“Hey, Mom! Come on in. The water’s great!” Liz looked up at me from the pool with a happy grin.
At her smile, I was happy I’d agreed to come to Florida. The divorce had rocked her too. I dipped my toe in the sparkling water and let out a contented sigh. It was pleasantly warm. I took off my cover-up and opened my bottle of sun block.
“Is that a new suit?” Liz asked.
“Yes. Do you like it?” I’d chosen a tasteful, black, one-piece bathing suit.
Liz wrinkled her nose. “Mmm, not exactly.”
Rhonda approached us, munching on a carrot stick and carrying a plate of sandwiches. “It looks like you’re going to a beach funeral. You’d look great in a bikini! Why are you wearing that?”
For a moment, I was too surprised to say anything. “But it’s a nice traditional suit.”
“I bet that’s just the kind of thing your ex liked to see you in. Right? From what I’ve heard, he was an uptight asshole.”
A furious retort died on my lips as old memories came back. It was true. Robert had a fit if I wore anything he considered too “daring” at the country club pool. Especially after one of our neighbors, drunk at a party, told Robert he was lucky to have me in his life and in his bed.
“I knew it!” Rhonda gave me a smug look. “Tomorrow we’ll get you a new suit. I’ll even pick it out.” She grinned. “Boy, have you got some changes coming. You’re going to have a ball! Or should I say balls?”
I swallowed hard as Rhonda roared with laughter. What, I wondered, had I gotten myself into with this visit? Rhonda and I were like night and day, totally out of sync with each other. I could almost hear my grandmother say, “You’re in trouble now, young lady.” And, for once, she’d be right.
Rhonda threw an arm around me and grinned. “I knew we’d get along.”
“Yes, of course.” I ordered myself not to roll my eyes and wondered how many hours until my flight home. Our first day together was not half over, and I had another five to go.
By the time I crawled into bed that night, I was too tired even to continue counting the remaining hours of the visit. The sun had overheated my skin, and my trying to remain an enthusiastic guest as my grandmother had taught me had fried my mind.
I awoke and stretched. The sun peeking through the drapery caused my lips to curve happily. It was another beautiful day in paradise. Vowing to relax and get along with my hostess for the next few days, I climbed out of bed and got dressed.
Downstairs, I took in the view from the living room and let out a sigh of pleasure. As I walked into the kitchen, Rhonda greeted me with a smile. “Today, we’ll go to the Shops at the Lagoon for a bathing suit for you. It’s time to liven you up a bit.”
I could well imagine what Rhonda would pick out for me and pressed my lips together. The neon pink tank top she was wearing outlined every one of her curves, and her orange shorts were ... well, too short.
“Yeah, Mom, liven up, as Rhonda says.” Liz beamed from Rhonda to me. “I’ve tried to tell you ...”
At my warning look, she stopped talking.
Rhonda rose and put an arm around me. “I just want to see you have some fun, hon. I know what it’s like, following a divorce. Now, do as I say and go take that skirt off. We’re wearing shorts today.”
“But ...” I looked down at the filmy skirt I’d bought on sale last summer—I’d been so excited about a chance to wear it.
“Go on now,” urged Rhonda.
“Hurry, Mom! Rhonda’s taking us out to breakfast.”
Deciding not to make a scene, I headed back upstairs praying I could make it through the next few days without coming to blows with Rhonda. She was so ... so ... damn ... bossy!!
###
Thanksgiving was another beautiful, tropical day. I pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and padded downstairs. Rhonda was already in the kitchen finishing a pumpkin pie.
“Happy Thanksgiving! Can I help?”
Rhonda shook her head. “Maybe later. Right now, I’m ordering you out of the kitchen. Go for a walk on the beach, and then you can relax by the pool.”
More orders. I took a deep breath. Two and a half more days to go. “Okay, let me know if you need me to do anything.” It was, I now knew, useless to argue with her.
As I strolled along the beach, the sound of the wav
es lapping against the shore eased the tension in my shoulders. The cry of a gull swooping above me caught my attention. I waded into the water, letting the salty froth wash over my feet and cool me before I headed down the beach. My muscles stretched as I picked up my pace. It felt so good.
After a quick bite to eat back at The Beach House, I changed clothes and lay on a chaise lounge next to the pool. In my new, lime-green bikini—the skimpy one Rhonda and the girls insisted I buy—I immersed myself in a book, unwinding for the first time since I’d arrived in Sabal. The television blared from the kitchen, announcing cold, rainy weather for Macy’s New York Thanksgiving Day Parade. I thought of all Robert had done and hoped it was just as miserable in Boston.
Liz took a seat on the lounge chair beside me. “I love being down here in Florida. How about you?”
I nodded. The thought of still being at home, facing my first big holiday as a single, sent a chill racing across my warm skin.
“It hasn’t been so bad then?” Liz studied me.
“Rhonda drives me crazy, but I’m glad to see you happy.” I was learning to cope with Rhonda’s bossiness. Growing up as I had with my strait-laced grandmother in Boston society, Rhonda’s salty language still jarred me. Rhonda didn’t even notice, and I doubted she ever would. But she was tender-hearted, and that went a long way with me.
Later, Rhonda came out to the pool. “All right, ladies, it’s time to go upstairs and get dressed for dinner. Wear something nice for the holiday. We’re celebrating!”
With thoughts of Thanksgivings in the past, I slowly climbed the stairs. It would take me a long time to get used to all the changes in my life. I undressed and stepped into the shower. The cool water felt good on my skin as I soaped my body, removing the last of the suntan lotion.
Drying off, I glanced at my reflection in the glass shower door. Though the big four-oh would happen in another two years, I didn’t look close to my age. At five-three, and with my shoulder-length black hair hanging straight, I looked more like an older sister to Liz. Had I been such a disappointment to Robert? We’d married young, right after I discovered I was pregnant. I’d accepted that time had cooled things down. But after all I’d done for him as a lover, a mother, a business partner, I’d thought our marriage was solid.
