What a Girl Wants

by Jennifer Snow

  “The guy you drove two hours to get away from.”

  “What makes you think I’m hiding from a guy?” Bailey stalled, removing her jacket. “I just thought it would be a good time to visit, before the weather changes and I have to put the bike in storage.” That part was true, at least.

  Her aunt placed a box of stock onto the counter and leaned against it, moving closer to her. “Darling, you’re not the first person to come to Beach Haven with a broken heart reflected in her eyes. How do you think I ended up here?” she asked softly.

  Bailey’s eyes widened. “I thought you moved out here to be with Uncle Dan?”

  Her aunt’s smile was faraway as she said, “That happened later.”

  “Oh. I had no idea.” Bailey’s curiosity was overwhelming, but she waited. Her Sheppard DNA prevented her from asking any questions.

  Caroline opened the box of fall sweaters and sighed. “This is the one thing I hate about working in the clothing industry. The summer sun hasn’t even cooled yet and I have to start putting out the warmer clothing.” She reached into the box and pulled out a teal-green cashmere V-neck, folded it neatly and reached for another.

  Bailey shifted on the stool behind the counter and pulled out a sweater, as well. One thing she’d learned from the rainy summer days stuck inside the shop on family visits was how to fold.

  “Would it help if I told you about him?” Caroline asked after a long, excruciating silence.

  “Only if you want to,” Bailey said, not wanting to pry but desperate to hear a story that might make her feel better...or worse. After all, her aunt had obviously not ended up with the man she was about to tell her about. Bailey bit her lip as she waited.

  Caroline reached under the counter for a box of saltwater taffy, opened it and offered it to Bailey.

  Taking a pink one, her favorite, she popped it into her mouth.

  “Okay, but please keep in mind that this was a long time ago,” Caroline said. “The feelings I had back then have been long gone for quite some time.”

  Bailey nodded, eager to hear about the mystery man in her aunt’s past. Family secrets were rare in towns the size of Brookhollow and Beach Haven, so she could appreciate how much trouble her aunt must have gone to to keep this one.

  “Okay, well, the truth is...before your mom and dad got together, I dated Ben first.” Caroline paused and waited.

  Bailey’s mouth fell open and she quickly closed it. Swallowing the taffy, she said, “My dad broke your heart?”

  “Yes. I was eighteen and completely in love. We were in the same grade in school and I purposely selected all of the same classes. Your mom was a junior that year. On our third date when he picked me up, he noticed your mom drawing on the porch—she was an amazing artist even then—and that was it. The connection between the two of them was instant. They had so much in common and they even shared the same silly sense of humor. You know those jokes your father tells that no one else gets? Your mom did. Even I could see they were perfect together.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I broke up with him. It broke my heart to do it, but I couldn’t stand being in their company and seeing the looks they shared, obviously denying their true feelings for my sake.” She shook her head.

  “And they just got together...just like that?” It was hard for Bailey to believe that her parents could be so callous to her aunt’s feelings.

  “Oh, no,” Caroline insisted. “It took months of prompting and encouraging on my part for your mom to say yes to Ben’s requests.”

  “You pushed them together? That’s admirable. Most people would have been happy to keep them apart.” Bailey was seeing her aunt in a whole new light. She knew her mother’s older sister had always looked out for her, but this took a lot of strength.

  “I couldn’t,” she said, her voice not holding the slightest trace of sadness. “What the movie producers of every love story may fail to remind us is that for every happily ever after, there are a dozen broken hearts, but in my case my disappointment in love led me here to Beach Haven and your Uncle Dan.” Her smile was wide.

  “Wow,” Bailey whispered.

  Caroline reached forward and touched her hand. “No, sweet girl, the wow was what happened next—finding your uncle and having the boys. It turned out that was my happy ever after, I just didn’t know it.”

  “So what you’re saying is, this guy is not the one and something even more amazing is waiting around the corner...or in a different town?” she asked with a gulp. She seriously doubted there was anyone better than Ethan. As angry and hurt as she was over their situation, deep down she just admired and respected him even more for his decision.

  “What I’m saying is you have to figure out if Ethan is really Emily’s happy ever after or if he’s yours.”

  “How did you know it was Ethan?”

  “It’s always been Ethan, hasn’t it?” Caroline asked with a knowing smile.

  Bailey nodded and thought for a long moment, touching the soft cashmere on her lap. “But what if my heart and my head are telling me two different things?”

  * * *

  “IT WAS GREAT seeing you again, Bailey. You shouldn’t wait so long to visit next time.” Her cousin Troy hugged her tight with one arm as he carried a baby’s car seat in the other. The sleeping bundle of joy was oblivious to the noise of the farewells around her.

  “I promise to visit more often, especially now that I’ve met Ella,” Bailey said, bending to place a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead. Ella smiled in her sleep and a strange sense of longing stirred within her. Then the reminder hit. Ethan would have a baby soon.

  “Good night, Caroline,” Troy’s wife, Bridget, said. “Great meeting you, Bailey. Sorry to rush off, but this little princess needs to be in bed.”

  Bailey covered her own yawn with her hand. “Looks like Ella isn’t the only one.” The terrible night before with little sleep and the early-morning road trip were catching up to her and she’d struggled to keep her eyes open during her aunt’s salted-cod-and-potato casserole. She’d forced her troubles away for her family’s sake, but she hadn’t been able to shake the nagging loneliness as she’d watched the loving affection between Troy, Bridget and baby Ella. She wanted all of that. With a man she couldn’t have.

  “Bye, you guys. Drive safe.” Caroline blew several kisses before closing the door behind them.

  Bailey scanned the messy kitchen and dining room. Her aunt didn’t believe in cleaning as she cooked. Nor did she allow her guests to help tidy up. Countless plates, cups and pots and pans littered the counters. At least an hour of cleanup awaited Bailey before she could be reunited with the down-filled pillows she remembered from the guest room upstairs. Tying her hair back from her face, she filled the sink with soapy hot water.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to clean up,” her aunt said, entering the kitchen and taking her hands from the sink.

  “It’s no problem,” Bailey said through another yawn.

  “Look at you. You’re dead on your feet.” Tossing Bailey a dish towel to dry her hands, Caroline opened the fridge. She grabbed a bottle of Reisling and two glasses. “Come on, let’s have a drink before I kick you off to bed. It will help you sleep.”

  “Oh, I doubt I’ll have any trouble....” Bailey could barely force her eyes to remain open.

  “You will once the quiet hits and you’re once again alone with your conflicted heart and troubled thoughts.”

  “Wow, you really have been through this before.” She accepted the wineglass, suddenly not so eager to retire to the solitude awaiting her in the room upstairs. Her aunt was right. As tired as she was, unanswered questions would keep her awake most of the night.

  “Let’s go sit on the porch. It’s beautiful out there as the sun sets.”

  “Okay,” Bailey said, following
her aunt outside and taking a seat on the wooden porch swing on the white wraparound patio of the two-story beach house. The view from the front porch was a familiar one as her mother had painted a picture of it on a family vacation to Beach Haven the summer before she got sick. The painting hung above her fireplace at home—a reminder of those family vacations.

  Her aunt lay back in the hammock on the deck several feet away.

  The warm breeze drifting off the water and the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the beach rocks were enough to lull Bailey to sleep right there on the gently swaying, creaking swing. Kicking off her shoes, she leaned her head back and relaxed her tense shoulders, desperate to find the sense of calm that eluded her despite the serenity of her surroundings. “Maybe I should just move out here.”

  “Uh-uh,” her aunt said, her eyes glued to the setting sun as she swayed in the hammock.

  “Why not? It worked out well for you. You have a wonderful life out here—beachfront property, a great shop and a fantastic family.”

  “That’s all very true, but it was because my prince charming was waiting for me here. Believe me, yours is elsewhere. There are only three single men in this town under the age of fifty and let’s just put it this way—they are not Ethan. Besides, you made a promise to your mom.”

  “To look after Dad and the boys. I remember.”

  “In her final days, your mom asked everyone she knew to be a source of support for your dad, but to let him figure things out in his own way, on his own time. She made all of us promise not to help too much in raising you three or with the housework. Technically I guess Tina Miller from the diner broke hers by bringing food, but you kids needed to eat, and Lord knows Ben was so lost without Candy those first few weeks that food would never have crossed his mind. Anyway, Candy knew Ben needed to learn how to cope as a way to heal. He had to prove to himself that he could take care of things the way she did and raise you three the way they would have together. Keeping Ben busy was the only way she knew to help bring him back to life after hers was over.”

  “I know.” A memory struck Bailey with a soft blow. “The mailbox,” she said with a nod.

  “What about the mailbox?”

  Bailey swallowed the lump in her throat. “I remember coming home from school to find a post office slip stuck to the front door saying that no more mail would be delivered until Dad cleaned out our mailbox across the street. He looked at me and all I wanted to do was go get the mail for him, but I heard Mom’s voice and I realized this was what she’d meant. Dad had to figure out these day-to-day things on his own, so I handed him the mailbox key and went inside.” She paused, taking a sip of her wine.

  Her aunt’s eyes misted. “That was exactly the kind of stuff your mom wanted—no, needed—your dad to learn how to do on his own. In nine years of marriage, he’d never once checked the mail or bought the groceries or paid bills, but it was something he would need to do going forward.”

  “I watched him from the window,” Bailey said, “trying that key in every slot. Mentally I was screaming, ‘It’s the second row of boxes, number twelve,’ but I stayed silent. When he finally found the box and opened it, the mail just flew out, scattering across the ground. His shoulders slumped and shook for just a second, but when he turned, he was smiling and he held up the mail as a sort of victory.” Bailey laughed through the lone tear streaming down one cheek. “I’d totally forgotten about that until now. Thanks, Aunt Caroline.”

  “Your mother had been right, as usual. Your dad needed the confidence that accomplishing even the smallest tasks would give him, the confidence that he could survive without her and needed to for his sake and yours and the boys.” Caroline drained the contents of her wineglass and swung her legs over the side of the hammock. “I’m going to go clean up, leave you to your thoughts.” She stared out at the ocean. “This place always has a way of helping me figure things out. Hopefully, it will have the same effect on you.” She kissed Bailey’s forehead and disappeared inside.

  Bailey reached for her phone and tossed it between her hands. There were several frantic voice mails from Victoria wondering if Bailey planned to be back in time for the wedding, but no messages or calls from Ethan. Disappointed, she put the phone down. Although she wasn’t sure what she wanted or expected from herself or Ethan.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ETHAN PULLED INTO the parking lot behind Brookhollow High School, on the opposite side of the soccer and football field. Draining the contents of his Red Bull, he grabbed the duffel bag of soccer balls and slid his baseball cap over his head. A sense of relief washed over him as he noticed the Myerses’ van parked several spots away. His star players were here for his last game as coach. He hoped Melody planned to stay. He could use her support in the stands that evening.

  The game against the Camden Crushers started in an hour, but he wanted to talk to the boys first. In truth, he didn’t want any more time than necessary alone with his thoughts. Or rather, one consistent thought—Bailey. When he was working or coaching, he had little time to think about her...or at least she wasn’t the only thought driving him to the brink of insanity. Four days without her and he already felt lost. He had so much to tell her and he longed to make her listen, but more than that, he missed his best friend. Without being able to see her or hear her voice whenever he wanted, he realized just how big a part of his life she really was. How was he going to live in Miami and not see her every day?

  Readjusting the bag on his shoulder, he made his way around the side of the high school. As he rounded the corner, the large crowd gathered on the soccer field began to cheer and clap. Squinting in the early-evening sunlight, he read the banner hung across several cars parked in front of the field. “We will miss you, Coach Bishop” was handwritten across the paper. The gesture had caught him completely off guard and he smiled, momentarily forgetting the troubles that had plagued him all day.

  Balloons were tied to the fence and bleachers, and a table was set up under a small white tent with cookies, cupcakes and refreshments. His nephews were the first to approach him with a large construction-paper card, the rest of the junior boys team following. The parents waved from the sidelines and Melody smiled at him from her spot behind the food table.

  “Hey, guys. What’s all this?” Ethan asked, setting the duffel bag down on the grass and bending to accept the card from the boys.

  “We all just wanted to say goodbye...before you left,” David said.

  Ethan opened the card and smiled at the boys’ signatures and their heartfelt messages. Setting the card aside, he hugged the boys, swallowing a lump in his throat, thankful for his dark sunglasses. Kids had a way of reducing even the toughest man to a softie. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Come on. We have cake,” Josh said.

  Ethan let him lead the way. “Hi, Mel.”

  “Hey, Coach, can I interest you in a cupcake?” Melody extended a cupcake with a candy soccer ball on top.

  Ethan eyed the chocolate treat suspiciously, remembering her casserole. “Did you bake these?”

  Melody raised an eyebrow. “We wanted to say goodbye, not poison you. They’re compliments of Ginger Snaps.”

  “In that case, I’d love one.” He’d barely eaten in days and his stomach growled.

  “I also have something for you,” she said, retrieving several folded papers from her pocket. “I had a lot to say and I’m not great with words. I wrote it down.” She hesitated before handing him the pages.

  Biting into his cupcake, Ethan opened the letter to see her loopy handwriting and began to read.

  Melody reached out and took the papers back. “That’s just embarrassing, and it’s too long and you probably can’t decipher my handwriting anyway.” She paused, then folded the pages and put them back in her pocket. “What it basically says, in a nutshell, is this—you will make a terrific father and Emily and the b
aby are lucky to have you. The boys are really going to miss you, so keep in touch. Okay?”

  “You got it. Thanks, Mel.”

  Melody’s eyes grew shiny and she waved him away as she cleared her throat. “Don’t you have to go coach that team one last time?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “WHY EXACTLY ARE we here again?” Kayla Dawson asked, examining a perfectly manicured hand where she sat next to Bailey on the love seat in the main sitting room at the Brookhollow Inn. Also present were Luke’s other sister, Alisha, and Rachel’s sister-in-law Lindsay.

  “I’m not sure,” Bailey said. “Rachel didn’t say. She just texted everyone that it was important for all of us to show up later than seven, once Vic had left for the day. It must be some wedding surprise.” When she’d gotten the text, she’d rushed back from Beach Haven a day earlier than she’d planned.

  “Hi, everyone,” Rachel said. “Thank you all for showing up on short notice. I had to wait till the last minute to call this meeting to be sure Victoria didn’t find out about it. Some of you have trouble keeping things to yourselves.” she added with a pointed look to Lindsay.

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “I can keep a secret.”

  “Really? Who told me my husband was going to propose a week before he planned to do it?”

  “I thought maybe you needed a warning,” Lindsay said with a look of innocence.

  “And you told everyone I was pregnant with the boys before I had a chance—”

  “Okay, look, I guess I just have a different idea about what constitutes a secret than you do. Everyone was going to find out eventually. What was the big deal?”

  Rachel placed her hands on her hips and shook her head, then turned her attention back to the group. “Anyway, I promise this won’t take long.”