Winter at the Beach Page 11

  “You don’t worry about that at Thanksgiving, Mom,” Celeste told her. “Not when there’s mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits and dressing. And pumpkin pie. With whipped cream. Oh, my gosh, I’m drooling.”

  “Wipe the drool off your chin and come on downstairs,” Jenna said. “Aunt Edie’s probably taking the bread out of the oven now.”

  “Where’s our girl?” Mel asked as they made their way to the kitchen. “I thought I’d find her in her room.”

  “Out to dinner with her father,” Jenna said.

  Mel nodded approvingly. “That’s sweet.”

  “It would be sweeter if he hadn’t brought Aurora.”

  “Oh, he didn’t,” Mel said in disgust.

  “He did.”

  “Talk about a trashy move,” Celeste said, sounding equally disgusted.

  “But look on the bright side,” Mel pointed out. “He cared enough to come and get her.”

  “Yeah, that cost him a lot since it’s probably Jenna’s money that paid for the gas,” said Celeste. “And he’s gotten a free room for the night.”

  That wouldn’t be happening again.

  “Oh, well. Who cares?” continued Celeste, who wasn’t forking out any money and who didn’t have to share a child with a rat. “We’re going to have fun this weekend. And she’ll be back Saturday, right?”

  “That’s the plan. The grandparents are taking her shopping on Friday and then to see The Nutcracker ballet.” How did a single mom on a budget compete with that?

  “Well, we’ll have DVDs and popcorn,” Celeste said. “And, I assume, the boyfriend will be around on Saturday, once she’s back home.”

  Ah, yes, the boyfriend. No fancy ballet performance could compete with that, Jenna decided as they entered the kitchen.

  Pete, as usual, poked his head in the door just as Aunt Edie was dishing up the soup. He looked like a cross between Captain Ahab and the Ancient Mariner in his favorite old peacoat, a pair of worn jeans and a battered captain’s hat. His chin was crusted with gray five-o’clock shadow.

  “Thought I’d see if you needed anything done,” he said.

  At six in the evening? Who did he think would believe that? Certainly not Jenna, who was all too familiar with Pete’s subpar work ethic.

  “Pete, you remember Jenna’s mother and sister,” said Aunt Edie. “They’re here for Thanksgiving.”

  Pete took off his cap, sending wisps of gray hair in all directions. “Nice to see you.”

  “You’re probably on your way to The Drunken Sailor,” Jenna suggested.

  “Oh, I don’t have any plans,” he said, refusing to take the hint. He sniffed the air. “Something smells good, Edie, my girl.”

  “We’re only having soup tonight since our big meal is tomorrow,” Aunt Edie informed him. Of course, he’d be around for Thanksgiving dinner. Lucky them.

  “Pull up that stool and join us,” Aunt Edie said. “Pete’s my handyman,” she explained, just in case someone might have forgotten since the grand opening they’d attended.

  “I saw the float you’ve been working on as we came in,” Mel said as they settled around the table. “It looks like a lot of work.”

  “It is,” Pete said, tucking a napkin around his neck. At least he’d been helping with that.

  He was about to reach for the French bread when Mel asked, “Who’d like to pray?”

  Pete pulled his hand back as if he’d been about to commit blasphemy.

  “How about you, Mom?” Jenna suggested.

  Her mother nodded, and they all bowed their heads. “Dear Lord, thank you for getting us here safely.”

  The way Celeste drove, that was a miracle.

  “And thank you for watching over us and meeting our needs. Thank you that we can all be together this weekend. Keep us grateful.”

  Her mother’s words reminded Jenna that she did, indeed, have much for which to be grateful. In spite of the fact that her marriage hadn’t lived up to her expectations, in spite of the fact that she’d had some challenges with getting the motel up and running and that she was on a budget tighter than new braces, her life was good.

  “Amen,” she said when her mom had finished.

  “Amen,” echoed Celeste and Aunt Edie.

  “Amen,” Pete said, sounding rusty, then reached for the French bread again.

  After his free meal, he vanished, and the four women entertained themselves playing cards and drinking hot cocoa.

  Sabrina returned from her dinner, and when asked how it was merely shrugged and said, “Okay.” Aunt Edie gave her hot chocolate, too, and they switched from cards to Farkle, and soon she was giggling and happy. She wore a smile when she disappeared after the dice game to text with Tristan, who had been commanded to stay home with his family.

  “It’s a shame he had to bring her,” Mel said after Sabrina left, and they all knew to which her she was referring.

  “Yes, I’m sorry I’m not the only one who has to deal with the other woman,” Jenna said. “I wish, for Sabrina’s sake, that Aurora would go find some other struggling artist to bond with.”

  “Maybe she’ll get famous first,” said Celeste. “That’ll end things in a hurry.”

  It certainly would. Damien’s ego could never tolerate it if he got outshone.

  “If it wasn’t Aurora, it would be someone else,” said Mel. “He doesn’t appear to be wired for fidelity.”

  “A lot of men aren’t,” said Aunt Edie.

  “But there are still plenty of fine men out there,” said Mel. “I doubt either of my girls will end up alone,” she added, smiling first at Jenna, then Celeste.

  “I’m already not alone,” Jenna said. “I have all of you and my friends back home and here in town.”

  “And two of them are very handsome,” Aunt Edie added with a sly smile.

  “Life’s good at the beach,” teased Celeste.

  “It always has been,” Mel said. “You’re giving Sabrina a good life down here,” she said to Jenna.

  “You’re giving us all a good life.” Aunt Edie smiled at Jenna. “Now, let’s start a new game. I’m feeling lucky.”

  They played one more game, then Aunt Edie went to bed. “I’ve got to get up early and get the bird in the oven,” she told them.

  Mel made it through a game of cards and one last cup of hot chocolate, then she, too, vanished, tired from having worked a shift before she and Celeste came down, and that left the sisters to snuggle at opposite ends of the living room sofa with glasses of wine.

  “Just like when we were kids,” Celeste said as she poured herself a second glass. “Well, except for the booze. You’re so lucky to be down here.”

  “We have a school in Moonlight Harbor,” Jenna said. “I bet they need teachers.”

  “Do they need cops?”

  Ah, yes. Mr. Perfect. If he was willing to relocate for her sister, that would go a long way toward proving his love. “I can find out,” Jenna said. “It would be great if you lived here.”

  “You’ve got it pretty great already,” Celeste told her. “Now, if you could just get something going with your love life.”

  Ah, yes. The love life. Her sister never tired of trying to run it.

  Her cell phone interrupted just as Celeste was getting warmed up. It was Courtney, calling from the office. At midnight. Not a good sign.

  “I think maybe you should come over,” she said. “Mr. Petit is here.”

  “Damien? What’s his problem?”

  “Noisy neighbors.”

  Jenna could hear Damien shouting in the background. “Noisy? It’s beyond noisy. It’s a war in there.”

  The millenials. “I’ll be right there,” Jenna said.

  “What’s going on?” Celeste asked.

  “We’ve got some people who need to settle down for the nig
ht. I’ll be back,” Jenna told her. She slipped on her coat and hurried over to the motel.

  She could hear yelling before she even hit the parking lot. Whoo, boy. But as she got closer, she realized it wasn’t the rooms the twentysomethings were in. In fact, Billie was hovering in the doorway of his room, as if trying decide what to do.

  He looked relieved at the sight of her. “These guys won’t shut up,” he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the offenders’ room.

  Jenna nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Sorry you were disturbed.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Damien marching toward her like a fire-breathing dragon. “What kind of hot sheets dump are you running here, Jenna? These people have been going at it like rabbits since ten, and now they sound like they’re about to kill each other.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said again. He didn’t move. Was he going to shadow her to the door? “You can go back to your room,” she added. “I’m on it.”

  He scowled at her and shook his head. “Great place to raise a kid. Good influence.”

  “Oh, don’t start,” she said, her voice rising. “As if it was a good influence on our daughter for you to take up with another woman while we were married? As if it’s a good influence for you two to be living together in your parents’ basement?”

  “Hey, this is not about me.” His voice, too, began increasing in volume.

  Billie stuck his head back out his door. “We’re trying to sleep in here!” he shouted.

  Jenna waved a calming hand at him and called, “It’s all right.” Between gritted teeth, she said to her ex, “Will you please go back to your room?”

  Now the screaming and yelling in Room Ten had stopped, and that door, too, opened. The middle-aged man who had checked in earlier, a sight to behold with a hairy chest and pot belly hanging over flannel pajama bottoms, leaned out and demanded to know what was going on. He was what was going on.

  Jenna hurried over. He smelled like the inside of a whiskey bottle. “Actually, I was just coming to see if everything was all right with you, sir. We had some complaints about noise.”

  He reared back and looked at her with shocked, bleary eyes. “It wasn’t us.”

  And here was Damien, by her side. “The hell it wasn’t.”

  Jenna turned him toward his own room and gave him a shove. “Good night, Damien.”

  He pointed at the offender. “You better shut up or I’m calling the cops.”

  “I’m sure there’s no need to do that now, is there?” Jenna said to the offender.

  “Of course not,” he slurred. “My wife’s not feeling well.” The unmistakable sound of said wife parting with her dinner could be heard in the background.

  Jenna had a sudden vision of a very unpleasant cleanup. Oh, please, let that noise be coming from the bathroom. “I hope she feels better soon and that you can both get a quiet night’s rest. We hate having to bring in the police when there’s a problem.”

  “There’s no problem here.” He grabbed the Do Not Disturb sign and after a couple of attempts finally managed to hang it on the doorknob. “Good night,” he said and, with as much dignity as a man who was drunk could manage, shut the door.

  Jenna heaved a sigh and trudged to the office, where Courtney was waiting.

  “Sorry I bugged you,” Courtney said, “but I figured since it was your ex, you’d want to handle it.”

  Yeah, there was nothing Jenna liked better than dealing with her ex. “It’s all good now. The rest of the night should be quiet.”

  “I hope so,” Courtney said. She checked her cell phone. “Looks like my shift’s over anyway.”

  “Go home and get some sleep,” Jenna told her. “You’ve got a long drive to your mom’s tomorrow.”

  “I hope nobody gives you any more trouble,” Courtney said as she grabbed her coat.

  “I’m sure they won’t.”

  “That was some scene out there.”

  And not one Jenna wanted to reenact.

  Courtney shook her head. “Why are there so many shits in the world?”

  “It’s a mystery,” Jenna said. And why people married shits was an even bigger mystery.

  “Is everything okay?” Celeste asked when she returned to the house.

  “I think so. A couple of our guests had a little too much to drink is all.”

  “I wouldn’t want your job. You’re always on call, and you’re not even a doctor.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Jenna said. “You meet all kinds of people.”

  “Yeah, so I see.”

  “Most of them are nice. You’re bound to get a dud once in a while.”

  “I guess this is your once in a while.” Celeste yawned. “All your excitement has worn me out. I’m going to bed.”

  “Me, too,” Jenna said. “I have to check people out in the morning.” And clean rooms.

  And the next morning, while Aunt Edie was happily humming around her clean kitchen, and her mom and Celeste were setting the table and peeling potatoes, Jenna had the joy of checking out guests. The twentysomethings were good sports and happily went on their way. The drunken middle-aged pair, on the other hand, were silent and sullen and the husband complained about the bill.

  “Someone was fighting right outside our room last night,” he complained as Damien entered the office, a nippy wind blowing in along with him. “We hardly slept at all.”

  “Yes, someone was being noisy,” Jenna agreed, and looked pointedly at his wife, who got busy studying the metal fish sculptures arranged on the wall.

  “I think we should get a refund,” said Mr. Hairy Belly.

  The hospitality business depended on sending away happy campers, so most hoteliers, including Jenna, had coupons handy for a free one-night stay. She was about to reach for one when Damien said, “You should be paying double. It sounded like you were slaughtering pigs in your room last night. You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops.”

  The man was bigger than Damien, but he was out of shape, and Damien was young and fit. The guy probably decided the odds would not be in his favor if he picked a fight.

  He scowled at Damien and at Jenna. Then, for good measure, scowled at his wife. “Come on, Mariah, let’s get out of this dump.”

  “It is not a dump,” Jenna muttered as the door shut behind them. Another gust of wind blew in, and she shivered.

  “Well, it’s not the Hilton,” said Damien. Jenna was about to take up where they’d left off the night before when he added, “But it’s kind of cool in a retro sort of way.”

  That was as close to an olive branch as he’d ever offer, and she surprised both him and herself by smiling at him. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Is Sabrina ready to go? I want to get on the road. I checked the weather, and it looks like there’s a storm coming in.”

  “I’ll see.”

  He nodded and they started for the door. “Back by Saturday evening, right?” Jenna confirmed. “Mom and Celeste want to spend time with her, too.”

  “Back by Saturday evening.”

  “Okay,” she said. Then felt, somehow, as though she needed to say more. “Thanks for coming and getting her.”

  “No problem,” he said, and they walked the rest of the way to the house in a silence as companionable as they’d probably ever get.

  Sabrina was up but dawdling in the shower. Jenna promised to hurry her along, and Damien returned to his room to pretend to wait patiently.

  An hour later, she was standing by his car, hugging her daughter goodbye. “Have fun.”

  “Mom and Dad are taking her to the Space Needle for lunch Saturday before I bring her back,” Damien said, his tone of voice telegraphing that he knew exactly how that had come about. “She’ll have fun.”

  “And Tristan can come over on Saturday
night, right?” Sabrina asked Jenna.

  “Yes, he can. We’ll do a movie marathon.”

  It was beginning to rain, and Aurora had had enough of the family friendliness. “Damien, we should get going if we’re going to be back in time for dinner,” she said from her side of the car.

  He nodded and got in.

  Jenna gave her daughter one more hug, then stepped away and watched her drive off with her father. “It’s good to share,” she reminded herself, and then went to do room cleanup.

  As she’d feared, the problem wife had not made it to the bathroom when she got sick. What a way to start Thanksgiving. At least the older couple in Room Four were quiet. And, hopefully, not slobs.

  After cleaning the mess, she moved on to Damien’s room. She’d given him one with two single beds, but he and Aurora had only used one of them. She scowled and went to work. One fewer bed to make. There. See? The chocolate box was half full.

  She finished the rest of her cleaning, then closed the office and went to the house. The wind was picking up and it tore at her coat with cold fingers. A good day to be indoors.

  Especially when there was a feast waiting. As she walked into the house, she was greeted by the aroma of roasting turkey. Ah, turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, ambrosia fruit salad and Celeste’s specialty—candied yams with brandy. Green beans and those peas with the baby onions. And then pumpkin pie with a mountain of whipped cream for dessert.

  Next to Christmas, Thanksgiving was Jenna’s favorite holiday. Her grandparents used to make the day special with games, fires in fireplaces, and extra servings of pumpkin pie for good little girls, which it turned out Jenna and Celeste always were, no matter how they behaved. She and her sister had also enjoyed a Thanksgiving or two at the beach, where Aunt Edie stuffed them with food and then had a craft for them—turkeys made from pinecones, paper-plate pumpkins, gratitude trees, which were branches with cut-out paper leaves that the girls attached after writing something for which they were thankful on.

  Aunt Edie had a craft planned for this holiday, as well. Once Pete left, they were going to make turkey pops. She’d assembled popsicle sticks, mini-wafer cookies, candy corn for feathers and sunflower seeds for beaks. A perfect party snack for Sabrina and the boyfriend on Saturday night. After the crafting, they’d settle in with turkey sandwiches to watch movies, and Jenna had two she knew everyone would love. She could hardly wait.