Seaside Romance

by Mia Ross

  “Good job. What else did I miss while I was gone?” Once she was up to speed, Julia rewarded Lauren with a proud smile. “You’re a real pro now. I won’t have to think about Toyland even once while Nick and I are away wherever he’s taking me.”

  “I try.” The praise settled nicely, and she returned the smile. “He still won’t tell you where you’re going?”

  “He’s determined to surprise me, so I’ll just have to wait and see. Since you’re doing so well, we can stay a whole month.”

  While she appeared completely serious, her crystal-blue eyes twinkled merrily, and Lauren laughed. “Don’t you dare! I like this place and all, but I’m not planning on making it a full-time thing.”

  It slipped out before she could stop it, and her friend’s expression perked with curiosity. “Does that mean you have something else in mind?”

  “Well, not really,” she hedged, unwilling to ruin her embryonic plan by saying it out loud. “Just something I’ve been kicking around.”

  “I’ve never heard you mention anything you wanted to do, other than travel.”

  “Like I said, it’s nothing right now.”

  “If that changes, you’ll let me know?” When Lauren nodded, Julia went on. “Good, because I want to be the first to jump in and support you. You’ve been disappointed a lot in the past, and you deserve to be happy.”

  As Julia pulled out her ringing cell phone, her words echoed in Lauren’s mind with the solid ring of the truth. Much to her surprise, Lauren realized she felt exactly the same way. It was time to put her failures aside and look to the future. The fact that she didn’t have all the answers yet didn’t intimidate her anymore. And that gave her hope that her difficult past had finally begun to let her go.

  When Julia ended her call, she turned to Lauren with the look of a child who’d just been handed her favorite treat. “Can you cover for me a while longer?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “That was Nick. The house we want to buy is about to go on the market. If we can get over there now, we can put in a private offer before anyone else even knows it’s for sale.”

  Lauren was thrilled, but she couldn’t quite believe their good fortune. “How does he know that?”

  “The owners are friends of his, and he’s been hounding them for weeks,” Julia explained with a quick laugh. “When he wants something, he hammers away from every angle until he gets it.”

  Her very cultured boss was pretty much bouncing with excitement, and Lauren couldn’t keep back a grin. “That must be how he ended up with you.”

  “More or less,” she confirmed on her way out. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “No rush! We’ll celebrate when you get back.”

  Julia waved in response, and the door jingled its own congratulations as it swung shut behind her. Alone again, Lauren roamed through the shop to make sure everything was neatly put away. When she reached the back corner, she paused near the velvet curtains she and Julia had put up, with a glittery sign hung on a gold cord: Surprises In Progress—No Peeking.

  Lauren ran a finger through one of the tassels, imagining how everything would look when Ben was finished with his super-secret project. Just beyond the curtain stood the door that led upstairs, and she strolled past it on her way through.

  An idea popped up out of nowhere, and she stopped to look back over her shoulder while a plan began spinning in her mind. She had no doubt Nick and Julia would end up with their dream house. When they moved into it, the apartment upstairs would become available. That meant that if someone wanted to make a permanent move to this charming little town, they wouldn’t have to hunt very long for a place to live.

  And if that someone was her, Lauren mused with a smile, she could make her fresh start right here in Holiday Harbor. Surrounded by good, caring people, with one of her dearest friends only a stone’s throw away. She had no doubt Julia would agree to it, or to her staying on as an employee and the coordinator of Playtime.

  Working with kids had become the passion she’d been searching for since college, and she couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for her, both professionally and personally. In fact, the only problem she foresaw was convincing the apartment’s very generous owner to set some kind of rent. The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. She’d come here with no goal beyond escaping her cage in New York, and now she had an honest-to-goodness strategy for moving forward.

  It felt fabulous.

  * * *

  The following Monday morning, Ben had mixed emotions while he headed north of town to begin a new roofing job. It was warm for the last week in April, and as he drove along the coast, the sun was just starting to peek over the cliffs. He glanced toward the lighthouse, which was shrouded in pink-tinged fog, waiting for the rising temperature to burn off the mist. It was a beautiful sight, and he understood why so many visitors set their alarms for dawn so they could admire it close-up before the tide swept in and swallowed up the beach.

  He was glad Boston had its own harbor, he thought with genuine gratitude. The picture might be a little different, but after growing up surrounded by the moody Atlantic, he had a feeling he’d miss the ocean if he went someplace where he couldn’t see it every day.

  Once he left the coastline in his rearview mirror, his mind returned to more practical concerns. With the Thomas and Sons trailer bouncing and rattling behind him, he wondered if his father would show up for work today. If he did, Ben wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  If he didn’t—well, Ben had given him fair warning. Sighing in resignation, he sent up a silent prayer for the strength to handle whatever was coming.

  When he rounded the bend that led to their customer’s home, he saw his father’s battered pickup already in the driveway. Breathing a “Thank You, Lord,” Ben turned in and parked beside him.

  Be cool, he cautioned himself as he stepped out. Make him think you expected him to be here. He appeared to be slightly worse for wear, but to Ben’s eyes, no sight had ever looked better. “Morning, Dad.”

  “Morning, son. I made my decision,” he added hesitantly.

  “I see that. Good for you.”

  They stood awkwardly at arm’s length from one another. Ben wasn’t sure what to say or do next, and evidently neither was his father.

  “I talked to Pastor McHenry yesterday afternoon,” he confided with a grimace. “It was hard, but you were right. He gave me a lot to think about. Reminded me I’m still God’s child, and they’ll both be there for me if I just ask them for help.”

  Ben was thrilled to hear that, but he said, “This isn’t about me being right. It’s about you getting strong enough to deal with Mom leaving so you can move on with your life.”

  “I didn’t want to talk about her,” his dad growled, “but the pastor forced me to think back over the years, how tough they were sometimes. Afterward, I realized she left me a long time ago. She just hadn’t taken off yet.”

  Sadly, Ben had experienced that particular epiphany as a teenager, and he had a pretty good idea how much it hurt his father to own up to it. “That’s real progress, Dad. I’m proud of you.”

  Another, more confident smile. “So’m I. I did everything I could to make her happy, but it wasn’t enough. That’s not my fault, or even hers. It just is.”

  That didn’t strike Ben as something the pastor would say, and he cocked his head with a grin. “That sounds like Amelia Landry talking.”

  “Yeah.” Dragging out the word, his father rubbed the back of his neck like a sheepish teenager confessing a crush. “She came over to check on me, and we talked about it for a while. She’s kinda loony, but that woman has a lot more sense than folks give her credit for.”

  Delivered with fondness, the compliment spoke volumes about how far his father had come in a few short days. Figuring it was time to build on that, Ben suggested, “They’re calling for rain day after tomorrow. How ’bout we set a new record in roofing?”

  “Sound
s good to me. One more thing, though.” Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a silver coin. On the front was a pyramid with Recovery and 24 Hours engraved on it, along with some other inspiring words. Ben flipped it over to find the Serenity Prayer, asking God for help in changing what we can and accepting the things we can’t. He knew a few people who had these, and he recognized it immediately. Stunned beyond words, he regarded his staunchly independent father with newfound respect. “You went to an A.A. meeting?”

  “It was Amelia’s idea, and at first I didn’t think it’d work for me. But she dragged me there and sat with me so I wouldn’t bolt. Some of the folks there used to be way worse off than me, and hearing them made me believe I can be the kind of man I used to be.” Pausing, he rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “The kind who runs his own business, instead of letting his son work himself half to death to keep things going. You stepped up when I needed you, but I can take it from here.”

  In that moment, everything Ben had done over the past several months was suddenly worthwhile. The long talks he’d begun to assume had amounted to nothing suddenly had value, and the gratitude shining in his father’s eyes was all the reward Ben needed. He couldn’t talk around the lump in his throat, and gladly went into his dad’s open arms for a fierce hug.

  “I love you, son,” he murmured in a watery voice. Holding him away for a long look, he added, “You’ve got real talent, and it’s wasted on the projects we get around here. I know you’re gonna do a bang-up job in Boston with Davy.”

  Totally stunned, Ben couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But the confident gaze never wavered, telling him this was truly what Dad wanted for him. Still, their recent history was fresh in his mind, and he wisely hedged. “He won’t need me till June. In the meantime, I’ll keep on with you, if that’s okay.”

  “Fair enough, but end of May I’ll be helping you pack for your trip.”

  “Sounds good,” Ben agreed with a grin. “For now, we should go warn these poor people it’s about to get pretty loud.”

  They both laughed and headed inside as if they’d never had a care in the world. Still uneasy, Ben hoped the upward spiral would keep going. He’d had enough of the downward one to last him the rest of his life.

  Chapter Eight

  “Bowling? Nick said they’re going bowling?”

  Laden with sarcasm, the question came from Bree Landry, who sat in the backseat of Julia’s car. A petite woman with auburn hair and dark, intelligent eyes, Lauren had connected with her when she stopped in to visit Julia on her way to her husband Cooper’s law office. The three of them had ended up chatting like long-lost sorority sisters, and Lauren had learned more about Cooper, Nick and Ben than she technically needed to know.

  “That’s what he said,” Julia confirmed. “Why?”

  “You know why,” Bree scoffed. “When Nick’s involved, you never know what’s really going on.”

  “His brother-in-law, Todd Martin, is the best man, so he’s in charge of the bachelor party,” Julia reasoned. “I’m sure he’ll keep things mostly under control.”

  “Todd will,” Lauren agreed, “but will the rest of them go along? When Ben gets something in his head, there’s no talking him out of it.”

  It was suddenly so quiet in that car, the chorus of some oldie’s pop song came through the speakers loud and clear. Bree and Julia traded a look in the rearview mirror, and Lauren realized they might misinterpret her comment. “It’s such a pain,” she added in hopes of diverting any big—and incorrect—romantic ideas they might be spinning.

  Fortunately, Bree let her off the hook. “Tell me about it. I love Cooper, but sometimes he drives me completely bonkers. Like this past weekend...”

  She went on to describe his latest project at their house, and Lauren let out a relieved sigh. She’d have to be more careful about discussing Ben, she cautioned herself. If she didn’t watch what she said, people were going to get the wrong idea about the two of them.

  When they arrived at the café, a silver stretch limo was parked beside the curb. Tiny white twinkle lights adorned the slender trees out front, and the deep-set mullioned windows were hung with ivy and roses twined with more lights. Small tables and chairs stood on the sidewalk, and Lauren’s mind flashed back to the darling bistros she and Julia had visited in Paris. Gisele couldn’t have found a more perfect spot for this evening if she’d tried, and Lauren was certain she’d tried very, very hard.

  There wasn’t another car in sight, and as the girls stepped out, Lauren grinned at Julia. “Looks like your mom’s here.”

  “She hired the limo to pick up Ann, Lainie and the others in style.” Giggling, she said, “I can just imagine the look on Mavis’s face when this monster showed up at the lighthouse.”

  Laughing, the three of them entered the restaurant. It wasn’t very big, and a quick glance around showed Lauren it was completely empty except for a large round table in the center of the room. The sound of a joke told in a French accent reached them at the door, and they followed the sound of laughter to where the party had already begun.

  “Ma pétite!” Gisele exclaimed, rushing to hug Julia as if she hadn’t seen her earlier that day. In a blink, she reached out to embrace Bree and Lauren, giving each of them a two-cheek kiss. Stepping back, she motioned with a graceful wave. “Please, join us. Now that we’re all here, the fun can start.”

  Julia let out a mock groan. “What did you do? I asked you to keep things simple.”

  “I did,” she insisted with an Oscar-winning look of complete innocence. “I invited only your closest friends for a wonderful meal. How is that complicated?”

  “And what else?” When Gisele merely smiled, Julia shook her head and opened her menu.

  Lauren couldn’t believe her friend had given up so easily. Apparently, she was more concerned about this setup than the bride was. Leaning in, she whispered, “Why did she close down the restaurant?”

  “I guess we’ll find out later.”

  Chuckling, Bree said, “Your mom reminds me of Amelia. A big heart and full of surprises.”

  The two women in question had their heads together over the dessert menu, discussing which they wanted to try so they’d know how much of an entrée they should order. Munching on fresh bread and salads, they chatted about the wedding and easily settled into a rhythm of group discussion and whispered comments to each other. When the chef came out to check on them, the usually gruff Mavis charmed him by proclaiming his escargots the “best little garden critters I ever ate.”

  Gisele’s surprise turned out to be a small jazz combo who not only knew Gershwin and Ellington but also an impressive array of pop and classic rock songs. Once they’d finished dessert, their hostess nodded to the conductor, who cued the band for some kind of jive. Clearly delighted with his choice, Gisele jumped up and urged everyone to dance.

  “I won’t forget that anytime soon,” Bree murmured, nodding to where Chef Henri was jitterbugging with Mavis. Holding her phone at a discreet height, she winked at Lauren and hit the record button.

  Lauren appreciated being included in the joke, and she laughed. “You’d better not let her find out you have that. She’d kill you.”

  Clearly unfazed, Bree linked arms with Lauren and Julia, steering them out to the dance floor. “Come on, girls. If Mavis can do this, so can we.”

  Now it made sense that Gisele had chosen to empty the place, Lauren thought, while they joined the dancing. None of them would have done this in front of strangers, but since it was just them, no one felt too self-conscious to let go and enjoy themselves. Lainie was sandwiched between her mother and Amelia, trying to learn the steps while all three of them laughed nonstop at her efforts. Finally, she gave up and settled for shuffling along to the beat.

  Surrounded by lighthearted people and beautiful French artwork, Lauren was struck by a sudden realization.

  These women were her friends. In a few short weeks, she’d made more of them than she had in nearly a year in New York.
Not by impressing them with her wit or blinding them with her looks, but simply by being herself.

  And tonight was only the beginning, she reminded herself. The wedding was next weekend, and then Julia would be gone for however long her secret honeymoon lasted. That meant Lauren would be on her own in Holiday Harbor for the first time. Not long ago, just the thought of it would have filled her with dread.

  Now she was pleased to find she was actually looking forward to it.

  * * *

  The day of Nick and Julia’s wedding couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Lauren sat on the aisle so she had an unobstructed view for herself and the pictures she was snapping about every thirty seconds. With her father’s guidance, she’d splurged on a jazzy 35mm digital camera, and she planned to get the most out of it. When the organist switched over from background music to one of Mozart’s more uplifting melodies, everyone turned toward the open double doors expectantly. Mindless of etiquette, Lauren stepped into the center of the chapel to get a clear shot of Hannah Martin and her basket of rose petals.

  Dressed in pink organza with a garland of delicate roses and baby’s breath in her hair, she resembled a life-size china doll. No skipping today, Lauren noted while she snapped frame after frame of the flower girl’s dignified march toward the altar. When she was close to her father, Todd, he reached over to hug her and pointed Hannah to her spot as Lainie came down the aisle behind her. Ben was holding baby Noah, who chirped his approval of the opening act.

  The organist, who had the timing of a real pro, waited for the laughter to die down before starting the wedding march. While everyone else stood and watched the doorway, Lauren took the opportunity to focus her lens on Nick. Standing there in his black tuxedo with his hands folded in front of him, he was the picture of decorum.

  The moment he saw Julia, his expression softened into a smile full of love and admiration for the woman he was about to marry. Lauren’s eyes welled with delighted tears, and she blinked them away while she stepped out of the aisle to give Julia and her father a clear path.