by Jan Moran
“Everything is thriving,” Marina said, spotting Jack at the door with his friends Vanessa, Denise, and John. The two children darted toward the cookies, and then made their way to the open doors to the veranda. “As long as Scout stays out of it.”
“What’s this about Scout?” Jack asked, joining them along with Vanessa, who had threaded her arm through his for support. “He’s more popular than I am.”
Marina’s heart went out to Vanessa. “Would you like to sit down? There’s a comfy-looking wingback chair where you can sit and still watch the kids outside.”
“I’d like that,” Vanessa said, and Jack helped her get settled.
“Can I bring a plate of hors d’oeuvres for you?” Jack asked. “Marina made them.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite right now, but I wish I did. The food looks delicious.” Vanessa touched Marina’s hand.
“Another time,” Marina said softly.
When Jack left to get a glass of water for her and check on the children, Vanessa trailed him with her eyes. “He’s such a good man. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Taking Marina’s hand, Vanessa went on. “He saved my life once, you know. We were reporting on a dangerous situation, and he threw himself over me to protect me from bullets whizzing overhead.” She gazed after Jack. “I’m afraid I might have underestimated him in the past.”
Vanessa’s words tore at Marina’s heart. This woman was suffering, and Marina felt for her and her son. More than that, Vanessa seemed very much in love with Jack.
Marina chatted with Vanessa for a while. “Will you be staying in Summer Beach long?” Marina asked.
“I’d like to say as long as I can.” Vanessa glanced through the doors that stood open to the beach and the sea beyond. “All I want is to feel the sun on my shoulders and my son’s arms around me.”
Jack returned with a glass of water for Vanessa, and her face bloomed when he handed it to her. After Denise and John joined them, Marina excused herself to check on the food. She made a mental note to ask Denise what Vanessa might be able to eat so that she could make something special for her.
Marina caught a glimpse of a guest picking up a few of the appetizers. She watched as the man ate a mushroom-walnut tart and nodded with pleasant surprise. He said something to the woman he was with before returning to get another plate for her.
Marina let out a sigh of relief. She would have to replenish the food shortly.
Ivy signaled to her, and Marina joined her.
“I’m going to welcome everyone and introduce Celia’s student musician, and then I’ll introduce you. Did you want to say a few words?”
“I’d like that, thanks.” Though Marina was a seasoned speaker, this was all new to her, and she felt jittery. She smoothed her yellow sundress and lifted her chin, summoning her professional presence.
After the applause subsided for the young pianist, Ivy turned to Marina. “Today we’re enjoying appetizers from Marina Moore, who has recently returned to Summer Beach. She’s organizing a food festival called Taste of Summer Beach this summer, and she has a new venture that I’ll let her tell you all about.”
“Thank you, Ivy,” Marina began, projecting her voice so those standing on the veranda could hear her. “Ivy and Shelly and Poppy invited me to share some of my favorite recipes, which I hope you’re enjoying. Along with the food festival, I’m also creating a fun, new concept in dining—pop-up dinners. Some will be held here at the inn, and others will be at the Coral Cottage—my grandmother Ginger’s home on the beach. I can also bring delicious dinner concepts wherever you like, in your home, or on your boat. The menu is ever-changing and customizable, and—”
Marina froze. She heard a male voice ring out. That’s her, the woman in the meme. And then the small group began laughing.
Struggling, she went on, “And we can accommodate…”
Imani turned to quiet the snickering guests, who looked like college students, but someone else picked up on it, too. Soon another group was laughing. Others were turning to look at them.
“Most any dietary…” Marina felt her face growing hot. She was accustomed to cameras and crews, not live audiences. With her heart racing, she gestured toward the group of people who could hardly contain themselves now.
“It’s true,” Marina said, acting more confident than she felt. “I’m the meme lady. The anchor from San Francisco that people have been laughing about all over social media.” People were laughing louder now. She had to wrap this up. “Well, I hope you enjoy the food.”
Mortified, Marina managed a wan smile and hurried toward the door to replenish the trays and escape the spotlight of humiliation. As other guests shifted uncomfortably, the entire mood in the room seemed to plummet along with hers.
Kai stopped her at the door. “I’ll get this party back on track for you. Maybe the young pianist knows some show tunes or Disney songs.”
“That would be great,” Marina said. As she made her way through the hall, she could hear the strains of “Cabaret,” and soon, Kai was belting out the song to rival Liza Minelli. Thank goodness for sisters.
Ginger followed her into the kitchen. “That was quite rude of those people,” she said, folding Marina into her arms.
Marina blinked back hot tears of anger and hurt. “People have been so mean online, making ugly remarks. I don’t look at their comments anymore, but to say that to my face? When I’m speaking before a group? I don’t understand people like that.”
Ginger smoothed her hair and kissed her cheek. “If you’re in the public eye, people forget you have feelings. You can remind them of that, but they seldom care. They only feel powerful when they can crush another person.”
“I should know that from my old job.” At times, viewers had complained about a story they didn’t like or made comments about her clothing or hair. “But it always hurts.”
Ginger gestured with her hand. “Rise above it. When they go low, you go high.”
Marina managed a crooked smile. “That’s what you used to tell us when we were kids.” Ginger had always been there for her, just as Marina had supported Heather earlier today. As she thought of this, she saw her place on the ribbon of life.
Ginger placed her hands on Marina’s shoulders. “Same advice. Hasn’t changed.”
“I’ll try to remember that. I guess every industry has its critics.” She opened one of the refrigerators and pulled out another tray of canapés. “The cucumbers and crab spirals are going fast.”
“That’s it. Focus on the positive, my dear.”
“I’ll imagine that my first clients are out there.” Marina made a face. “Except for that young crowd.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ginger said. “You’re doing what you love. Now get back out there and spread your joy and good food throughout that room. And know that the people who matter love your work.”
“Rise above,” Marina said, freshly determined. She lifted the heavy platter onto her shoulder for extra balance and started through the hallway.
As Marina was turning into the music room, one of the twenty-something guys who’d been laughing at her suddenly reeled out of the doorway.
“Right behind you,” Marina called out, stepping back to avoid the young man. Spoiled frat boys, she thought. Then, when they go low, you go high.
He careened through the hall, probably drunk and oblivious to her. Marina pushed herself against the wall, but there was nothing she could do with the tray. He lurched against the platter, and suddenly, every cucumber roll took flight.
“No,” Marina cried as the silver platter clanged to the floor. “Why are you out to ruin my day?”
He turned and shrugged. “You should’ve gotten out of the way, meme lady.”
“And what if I’d been an elderly person? You have to watch where you’re going in this world.” Her mom instinct kicked in, and she pointed at the splattered food. “Now get down there and pick that mess up.”
The
young man—who’d probably started drinking early that day—snorted. “You’re the help now, meme lady. You do it.” He spun to leave.
But Jack was blocking his way. “It wasn’t enough to insult this woman in front of a crowd?” He put his hands on his hips. “Do as the lady asked.”
“Oh, yeah? And if I don’t?”
Chief Clarkson, who was in uniform this time, stepped behind Jack. “How does a charge of drunk-and-disorderly sound? Because we can do it that way, or you can make amends. Right now.”
Bennett and Mitch stepped up, too. Grumbling, the young man began scooping up food and slapping it onto the platter.
His friends spilled out of the music room, wide-eyed. But none of them lifted a hand to help him.
“I’d like an apology, too,” Marina said, folding her arms. She was grateful that Jack and the others were standing up for her.
“Sorry.”
“Like you mean it, you little scumbag,” Jack said.
The kid waved a hand. “Alright, I’m sorry. Happy?”
Ivy pushed through the crowded hallway. “You’re not staying here at the inn. Who are you with?”
One of the young women in the group slowly raised her hand. “My friend and I checked in this afternoon. We met the guys on the beach.”
“Either they go, or you go,” Ivy said. “And I suggest you find a higher class of men next time.”
Marina was silently cheering Ivy on. She watched while the young man slopped the rest of the food onto the tray.
Poppy appeared behind her. “I’ve seen you picking up girls on the beach. You should be ashamed of yourself.” She plopped a roll of paper towels down before him. “Don’t forget to wipe the floor before you go,” she added, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Marina turned to Jack and her other new friends. “Thank you,” she said, grateful for their intervention. Not that she couldn’t have ignored the situation and taken Ginger’s high road, but it meant a lot to her that her friends held that young man accountable. Maybe he even learned a valuable lesson.
Satisfied, Marina went back to the kitchen for another tray of food.
Jack followed her. “Rough debut. Are you okay?”
Nodding, Marina said, “Thanks for what you did back there.”
“The kid had it coming to him. Too much sun, too much beer, but no reason to act like a jerk. At least he didn’t ruin that beautiful dress.” He touched her hand and held her in his gaze a little longer than usual. “Your food is truly a work of art—and delicious. What can I do to help you now?”
Jack’s simple touch sent a spark through her, and she took a step forward, toward the warmth and safety that his arms seemed to promise. But then she thought of Vanessa and how the poor woman looked at Jack with so much love and admiration. Marina would never do anything to hurt a woman who had such a heavy burden to shoulder.
Catching herself, she averted her eyes and stepped back. “I’ve got this.”
Looking at her with concern on his face, Jack reached for her arm again. “Marina, you’re not alone.”
Outside, a child’s scream drew their attention, and they both dashed to the window, alarmed.
“You’re it now,” Leo cried, having found Samantha hiding behind a chaise lounge.
Samantha dissolved with laughter and then covered her eyes and started counting.
“Whew,” Marina said. “Looks like a rousing game of hide-and-seek.”
“Glad they didn’t see that fiasco in the hall,” Jack said, clearly relieved. “Not the kind of role models they need.”
“Kids learn from witnessing good and bad behavior. I’m glad they’re having fun.” Marina returned to the counter and lifted a tray. Jack picked up another one and followed her to the music room.
After the gathering had thinned out, Marina stood at the sink to wash the serving dishes she had borrowed.
A glass of red wine appeared on the counter beside her.
“I think you’ve earned this,” Kai said. “Wish I’d been there in the hallway to give that snotty kid a piece of my mind. But I was well into the Phantom of the Opera score by that time.”
“I’m glad you distracted the crowd.” Marina shook soapy water off her hands and took a sip of wine, breathing a sigh of relief. “Now, I just have to wait and see if this event generates any business.”
Kai brightened. “Denise asked if you could prepare picnic baskets for the beach. I told her I was sure you could. She’s going to call you.”
“That’s wonderful, thank you.” Marina hugged her sister. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you and Ginger here today.”
Shelly joined them in the kitchen carrying an empty platter. “I’d hoped for leftovers, but the guests didn’t leave a scrap. That’s a good sign.”
After the kitchen was clean, Ivy and Shelly walked Marina to the car. Shelly glanced at Jack and Vanessa, who were sitting on the terrace with Denise and John watching the children. “Jack and Vanessa both seem so nice, and it’s sad that she’s ill. At least they’re on good terms for Leo’s sake. A lot of exes never make up. Poor kids.”
Marina listened, intrigued.
“I don’t think they’re a couple,” Kai said. “Just old friends.”
Shelly shrugged. “Maybe not anymore, but Leo looks exactly like Jack. And the way Jack looks at that boy with such pride, there’s no doubt that’s his son.”
Marina had noticed the resemblance, too. And Vanessa seemed besotted with Jack. He was warm and respectful, but that was all. She wondered what had happened between them.
Ivy poked her sister. “No gossiping about guests.”
“He’s not a guest anymore,” Shelly said, making a face.
“That doesn’t mean he’s fair game,” Ivy shot back. “And you will not repeat that, especially not at Java Beach. People deserve a little privacy, even if this is a small town. Do you want everyone gossiping about you and Mitch?”
Shelly dipped her head, looking sheepish. “Forget I said anything.”
But Marina couldn’t. Is that what Jack is keeping secret? And if so, why?
Chapter 19
Jack threw covers over the bed, stashed a pile of dirty dishes in the oven, and stuffed dirty clothes in the closet. He didn’t usually clean house like this, but Ginger would be here any second.
Jack had called her to ask if they could meet to talk about his book proposal this morning. He suggested coffee at Java Beach, but she didn’t go for that. I have time now. If you’re decent, I’ll be right over.
As Ginger knocked on his door, he kicked Scout’s ragged chew toys under his dog bed. Scout cocked his head in confusion, so Jack ruffled the dog’s ears. “Sorry, bud. You’ll get them back later.” He pointed to Scout’s bed and snapped his fingers. “Stay.”
With reluctance, Scout curled up on the dog bed.
Jack ran his hand over his hair and opened the door. “Good morning. Come in.”
“Hard at work, I see.” Ginger chuckled and gestured at his desk.
Jack felt his insides implode. Cartoon sketches he hadn’t thought to put away littered his desk. Hardly the work of a serious writer.
“Ah, that.” Jack shuffled the pages together in a stack. “Some silly drawings for my nieces and nephews.”
“May I?” Ginger held out her hand and wriggled her fingers.
Jack could hardly refuse. Justly cornered, he gave her the pages.
Ginger slipped on the half-glasses she wore on a glittery chain around her neck, magnifying the intelligence glimmering in her eyes. The color of Colombian emeralds—that’s how he’d describe them in his book.
“Why, these are delightful drawings,” Ginger said. “This is Scout, isn’t it? And Leo and Samantha. How charming. Have you ever done anything with your illustrations?” She looked up expectantly.
“That’s just for fun.” Jack hooked his thumbs in his jeans and rocked on his heels. “I never had any formal training, but I enjoy it a lot. Makes the kids happy.”<
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Ginger tapped the pages. “Creative in one area, creative in others. The forms creativity can take are exciting, don’t you think?” Without waiting for a reply, she went on. “Drawing, writing, singing, cooking. The sciences and maths. Even international business and diplomatic negotiations. Today, that’s called thinking outside of the box. Every generation has its buzz words, I suppose.” She shrugged and continued to flip through his drawings.
Remembering what else might be in that stack of sketches, Jack reached out. “I’ll take those now. There’s nothing much more.”
“No?” Ginger came to the last sketch. “Now, if I didn’t know better, I’d think this might be Marina.” With a little smile, she handed the pages back to him.
The tips of Jack’s ears were burning, a sure sign that she’d gotten to him. He’d sketched Marina one day while she was outside. That wasn’t a cartoon character, but one of his more serious drawings.
Jack cleared his throat. “Now, about this book I’m working on. I’d like to schedule some time for interviews to talk about some of your accomplishments.”
“Enough of that,” Ginger said. “I’m not interested in that project. As I told you, I’m not finished with my life yet, so what’s the point?”
Jack felt like a helium balloon with the air whooshing out. He’d already pitched this concept to his agent. However, he could still go ahead without Ginger’s involvement, but that would make him feel uneasy—as if he were sneaking around. “Won’t you reconsider? I’d like to work with you on this.”
Jack heard something and looked down. Scout had chosen this inopportune moment to drag out his chew toys from underneath his bed.
Ginger dismissed the thought with an imperious wave of her hand. “I’ve heard that Denise and John are thinking of staying in Summer Beach. Leo, too?”
“That’s right, but—”
As Ginger glanced at his illustrations again, a smile grew on her face. “Perhaps I have another idea.” She paused by the door, looking at Scout, who was happily shredding a chew toy. “What a wonderful companion. I have a fastidious housekeeper who comes every other week. Perhaps she can fit you into her schedule. After all, you’ll soon have a great deal of work ahead of you.”
