by Lilly Mirren
"Just try to get it done as quickly as possible please. I can't be stuck without internet access, and there's hardly mobile phone coverage here. I didn't realise I was moving out of reach of technology, for heaven's sake!"
She turned off the phone and shoved it into her pocket with a groan. It was her third call to her internet provider in the past twenty-four hours, and she still hadn't made any headway.
"That sounds frustrating," said a man's voice behind her.
She spun about with a gasp, eyes wide to see a stranger standing in the open doorway.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. The front door was wide open, and I could hear you out here talking. Didn't realise you were on the phone. I'm Mick McIntosh. We spoke earlier?"
He shoved out a hand for her to shake, and she took it with a gulp of air.
"You scared the life out of me."
"Sorry about that." He chuckled. "You're Sarah Flannigan, right?"
She nodded, shook his hand. "Sorry, yes, I'm Sarah. Mick McIntosh…that name's familiar. Mum said we went to school together."
He nodded. "I remember you."
"Really?" She cocked her head to one side. "You do look vaguely familiar." Floppy dark blond hair fell over his green eyes, and he had a wide jaw and muscular build. Exactly the kind of man most women swooned over, but not her type. Still, she'd have thought she'd remember someone who looked like Mick did from her high school years.
He laughed. "I'm glad I made such a lasting impression on you."
Something in his smile sparked a memory.
"Oh yeah, I remember you now. You were shorter, and skinny…with braces."
His lips pursed. "Yep. That sounds about right. But you haven't changed a bit."
Her cheeks flushed with warmth. She wasn't sure why his words had such an effect on her, but she felt an urgent need to change the subject.
"I'm sure that's not true. Anyway, I think you can guess why I asked you to meet me here." She raised an arm and swept a wide gesture towards the cottage, the warped floor still cluttered with unopened boxes. Framed pieces of art leaned up against the stained walls, and broken shutters on dirty windows let in a few shafts of light that stabbed at the dreary darkness in the cramped space.
He nodded. "You want to remodel the place."
"Yes, I've recently bought it and want to make it liveable, light, airy - more modern but still with a hint of history. Does that make sense?"
He nodded. "Got it."
She walked him through the cottage, talking in detail about what she wanted changed, redone or built. She intended to extend the deck, since she wanted to spend as much time as possible out there taking in the spectacular scenery. Also, the kitchen, currently a single bench with a tiny and ancient stove in it and a half dozen cabinets, would need to be enlarged, and the space opened up to let in more light.
By the time they'd finished discussing the work she wanted done, her head spun.
She slumped onto a box, and he sat on one beside her, taking notes with a pencil in a notebook.
"Old school, huh?" she commented.
He nodded with a grunt. "Yeah, I prefer it that way."
"So have you lived in the Cove ever since high school?" she asked.
He shook his head without looking up. "Nope. I went to Canberra to study architecture, then worked in a firm there for about five years. Hated every minute of it." He laughed. "I missed the beach too much. So, I came back here. But as you can imagine, there isn't a lot of call for architects in Emerald Cove. So, I do some architecture, but mostly I do renovations and draft work."
She stood and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn.
"Tired?" he asked.
She smiled. "Actually, I feel great. I've slept the last two nights at Mum's place, in my old bed. There's something deeply satisfying about sleeping in your childhood bed, even if it is small. Except, the boy band posters on the walls give me the creeps. So many white teeth, and so very young!"
He chuckled, shoved the pencil behind his ear and stood. "I can understand that. All the brightly coloured clothing, perfectly combed hair and pouty smiles, it's freaky."
She laughed. "Yeah, it is. So, what do you think about this place? Are we going to be able to make it happen?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, we can definitely do everything you want done. I'll put together a quote and get it to you tomorrow. Does that work?"
She smiled. "Perfect. Although, how I'll get the quote without access to email is anyone's guess."
He cocked his head to one side. "How about I swing by with it. I can leave it at the front door if you're not home. Give me a call when you've had a chance to look it over."
She nodded and shook his outstretched hand again. "Thank you. I really appreciate you coming. I already feel a lot better about the cottage. It was a little overwhelming at first, and I wasn't sure where to start or if my ideas for it were even possible. So thanks."
He smiled, revealing a set of his own white teeth - only, unlike the creepy teeth on her old bedroom wall, his weren't perfect. His two front teeth crossed a little in a cute, boyish kind of way. "No worries. I'm glad I can help." He started for the front door, then turned to flash her another grin. "Oh, and welcome home to the Cove."
"Thanks," she said.
He dipped his head, then left. Sarah watched his truck pull out of the driveway from her front door, her eyes narrowed and nerves, or something like them, spinning in her gut. Who would've thought Mick McIntosh would grow up to look like that?
She shook her head and was about to step back inside the cottage when another car pulled into her driveway. She hadn't seen so much traffic on her little street since she arrived.
She tented a hand over her eyes and squinted against the brilliant pinks and oranges of the sunset to see who it was. When Vicky Hawkins stepped from the car with a wave, a lump formed in Sarah's throat. She ran to her friend and threw her arms around her. She hadn't realised how much she'd missed Vicky until the moment she saw her sweet, round face.
Vicky laughed. "Hey, Sarah, how are you?"
Sarah inhaled a quick breath. "I'm good, how are you? I wasn't expecting to see you. I've really missed you."
"Me too, I'm so glad you've moved home. I didn't think I'd ever see the day when Sarah Flannigan would move back to the Cove. Everyone's talking about it. We haven't had this much excitement since Dotty Harris streaked nude down the main street after her Alzheimer's diagnosis."
Sarah laughed. "Great, so I'm listed in the gossip columns alongside Dotty Harris, huh?"
"You bet," Vicky replied with a grin. "I come bearing gifts!"
She pulled a bag of takeaway food out of the car, along with a bottle of sparkling wine.
"Oh, I could kiss you," Sarah said, reaching for the wine. "Let's go inside, I'll see if I can find some clean drinking glasses."
The overhead light blinked on in the kitchen. Sarah smiled in satisfaction. At least she'd managed to get the electricity connected, and she'd be spending her first night sleeping in the cabin tonight as a result. She told herself she couldn't stay at Mum's forever. She had her own place. Although it was hard to give up the fridge full of food and the comfortable furnishings for her box-strewn, mouldy, musty-smelling cottage.
"I really like what you've done with the place," Vicky said, glancing around the kitchen and living area. Both spaces opened into one another, providing a wide, spacious area that Sarah imagined would look great once Mick was done with it. But for now, it had the appearance of a homeless shelter.
"Thanks," Sarah replied, crossing her eyes.
She searched for some clean glasses for the wine and found two plates and a pair of forks as well, then carried them to her coffee table, which she'd managed to pull into the centre of the room. She set down the plates, glasses and wine bottle. Vicky added the takeaway bag and began removing plastic containers filled with Chinese food.
"Mmmm, Chinese. My favourite!"
"I know," Vicky replied with a grin.
She filled both glasses with champagne, handed one to Sarah and raised her own. "To new beginnings, and to my gorgeous friend moving back to town after so many years away." Vicky's eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and her smile wobbled. "It's good to have you back."
Sarah's throat tightened. "I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to be back."
She leaned forward to hug her friend, then they each toasted with a mouthful of the sparkling wine.
Sarah began spooning the steaming hot food onto their plates. "So, how are things in the veterinarian business?"
Vicky chuckled. "Business is booming."
"You're amazing. I don't know how you do it. Day in, day out, treating sick animals."
Vicky shrugged and took a bite out of a spring roll. "I love it. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. Today I got to help a prized mare give birth. She had a difficult time of it, would've died if no one was there to help her. There's definitely some satisfaction in that."
"Good for you. I can't even imagine how stressful that must be. I get to deal with egotistical authors all day long." Sarah chuckled.
"It's not that bad. Is it?"
Sarah sighed. "No, of course not. When I say egotistical authors, I really mean my ex-fiancé. Unfortunately, even though I ended our engagement, I'm still his editor. And since I'm currently avoiding his calls, it makes for an awkward editor-author relationship."
Vicky's eyes widened. "I'd say so. Wow, how do you navigate that?"
"Move to a small seaside town as far away from him as possible…" Sarah laughed. "Seriously, it's been challenging. I'm hoping a little bit of distance will help. He won't accept that the relationship is over, but it is. We couldn't make it work. He's too much…"
"What?" Vicky asked.
"Never mind, tell me more about you. What's going on in your life?"
Vicky inhaled a sharp breath. "Actually, you know how Meg and I have become good friends…?"
Sarah nodded. "I remember her - she was a sweet little girl. Isn't she dating Brad Taylor?"
"Well, she's not a girl now, and they were married last week."
"Wow, I feel old." Sarah grimaced. "I remember her riding her bike around town, her little red pigtails bouncing on either side of her head. She was very cute."
"She's still cute." Vicky sighed. "She and Brad have been so happy together, so in love, and they're on their honeymoon…"
"That sounds nice," Sarah said.
"It would be, except Brad's had a surfing accident. They're in Hawaii, and I haven’t had a recent update, but I think it's bad."
Sarah's eyes widened. "What? Oh no!"
"Yes, I'll let you know when I find out more, but I feel so bad for poor Meg. She was so excited about their trip. The wedding was lovely, they're head over heels for each other. I hope he doesn't…anyway. No point talking about what might happen or could go wrong. We have to stay positive until we hear more." Vicky's voice broke, but she coughed to clear her throat and kept going. "So, as you can see, it's never dull around here, even if it is a small town."
"You know what they say about small towns…" Sarah began, still shaking her head over Vicky's news.
"No. What?"
"Small town, big drama."
Vicky dashed a tear from the corner of her eye and chuckled. "I've never heard that."
"I made it up. I think it's going to catch on." Sarah smiled and patted Vicky's arm. "I'm sure he'll be okay. He's young and strong. We should check the news later, maybe they'll have a story about what's happened. After all, he's a big-time surfing star these days." She inhaled a slow breath, eyes narrowed. "It's still hard for me to comprehend, little Brad Taylor is a superstar."
Vicky took a bite of chow mein and chewed thoughtfully. "I know. I used to babysit him."
"Really?" Sarah laughed.
"Yeah, and now his wife is my best friend. Who would've thought?"
Sarah's smile faded. It was childish to hold onto a title, but she'd always been Vicky's best friend. Moving away had meant losing that closeness over a period of time. It'd been her own fault; she'd been so caught up in studying, building a career, falling in love, climbing the social ladder…she hadn't looked back. She'd neglected their friendship. It was one of her biggest regrets.
"Well, please let me know if you hear anything."
"I will," Vicky said. "I tried calling her back a few times, but she's not answering her phone. I don't know if that means she wants to be left alone, but I need her to know I'm here for her. It's so hard to know what to do."
Sarah nodded, then continued eating her meal. There were so many people she'd lost touch with over the years. It was strange to be back in town, strange to be eating takeaway with her childhood friend in her very own beachside cottage. She wondered how long it'd take her to get used to it.
And would she ever get used to the fact that her father had abandoned his family for his assistant, stranding her mother with a mountain of surprise debt?
At least there was something concrete she could do to help Mum on that score. She couldn't fix Mum and Dad's relationship. She couldn't bring him back or mend their family. But she could do her best to figure out why the cafe was losing so much money, plug the leak and work out a payment plan for the bank.
Chapter 8
Cindy
Cindy stared wistfully at the copy of People magazine on the small, rectangular table in the centre of the waiting room. There were several stories inside the magazine she'd love to read - one in particular about the Duchess of Cambridge and a lovely cerulean dress - but she didn't dare pick it up. She'd made it a rule, years earlier after a particularly nasty bout of gastro, never to touch magazines at a doctor's office.
She sighed and stared instead at her own hands, twisted together in her lap. She could do with a manicure. But that was always the case since she worked at a cafe. It was impossible to keep her hands and nails in good shape when she washed them so often and used them to carry, wipe and scrub all day long.
It was worth it though. She loved her restaurant - the Emerald Cafe. Her parents had named it that when they'd first opened it fifty-five years earlier. She remembered the day. They'd buzzed with excitement. It'd been smaller then, more cramped, with a kitchen that would barely count as anything more than a sink and a cupboard. But they'd been so proud of it.
Of course, since then it'd undergone several remodels and upgrades, until now it was the largest and busiest cafe in the small tourist town.
"You can go in, Cindy," Helen said. The receptionist was seated behind a long mahogany desk and doubled as a nursing assistant whenever Dr Miller needed one.
Cindy smiled and strode towards the closed door with a nameplate on it that read, "Dr Athol Miller M.D."
She knocked once, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Good morning, Cindy. How are you today?" Athol stepped towards her, kissed her cheek.
She blushed. It was awkward seeing her doctor again after everything that'd happened. Athol and Andrew had been best friends. For all she knew, they were still. Maybe he talked to Andrew; they could still be in touch. Part of her wanted to know, wanted to corner him until he confessed. The other part of her wanted to stay naïve. Athol was her friend as well, had been for thirty years. She'd been the one to comfort him and ferry him meals every week a decade earlier when Cheryl died, after more than twenty years of marriage.
She offered him a hesitant smile. "Hi, Athol. I'm fine, thanks."
"Take a seat," he said, returning to his own seat behind a desk with a glowing computer monitor.
"Thank you." She sat, crossed her feet at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap. She stared at her wrinkled fingers. When had they gotten so old? One of the strangest parts about growing old was not recognising parts of your body when you looked at them, thinking for a moment that you were seeing someone else.
Athol's mouse clicked a few times, his eyes on the screen. "Let's see…the last time you came in was a year ago for your annual chec
k-up. Is that what we're doing again today? Or is there something else?"
She inhaled a quick breath. "Just the check-up. I had this appointment set months ago…or I wouldn't have… I'm sorry this is a little awkward."
He studied her, his brow furrowed. "Because of Andrew? Is that what you mean?"
She nodded.
"Well, I haven't spoken to him since right after he left. I called him one time to give him a piece of my mind and haven't spoken to him since."
Cindy's eyes narrowed. "You haven't?"
He smiled. "Nope."
"I thought…that maybe you were still in touch. I wasn't sure I should even come today." Her lips pursed.
"Well, I'm glad you did. Now, let's take that blood pressure of yours. It's always perfect, I'm sure it will be again today." He fitted the cuff round her arm and pumped the bladder.
Cindy studied the floor by her foot, then glanced at Athol's face. He was studying the numbers, his blue eyes narrowed behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses.
"You really gave him a piece of your mind?" she asked.
He nodded, smiled. "Yes, I did. After I realised he'd run off with Keisha, I called his mobile. He answered, told me we should catch up sometime, stay in touch, you know how he is - always smiling, always ready to have fun. I used to love that about him." He hesitated, then unwound the belt from her arm. "Perfect blood pressure, as always."
She nodded, rubbing her arm where the belt had been. "Yes, he was good at that. Not so good at being a faithful husband, or dedicated father, it turns out."
Athol tapped at the keyboard with a nod. "I told him I thought he was a fool to leave you for someone as vain and vapid as Keisha. That she was bound to leave him the moment someone richer and younger came along, and he should turn around, speed home and beg you to take him back. He didn't listen, of course. He laughed and told me to relax, that life was like a theme park, and if you didn't change rides every now and then, you could get sick."
