The sunset shores small.., p.1
The Sunset Shores (Small Town Hearts Book 1), page 1
THE SUNSET SHORES
SMALL TOWN HEARTS
BOOK 1
IVORY FIELDS
CONTENTS
Copyright
Stay Connected
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Continue Reading!
Also by Ivory Fields
Copyright © 2024 by Ivory Fields
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the publisher. The book is a work of fiction. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Join my private readers list and get exclusive access to my new release, giveaways, promotions. You will also receive my new free book.
Join my exclusive readers list here
1
Sophie Cast was enjoying a spring morning when the silence was shattered by a few beeps of the horn. She didn’t even have to look to see who was pulling into her driveway. It was Sophie’s twenty-six-year-old son Malcolm arriving in his moving van.
“Welcome. If you drive on my lawn, you’ll be on your hands and knees, seeding it before I let you in the door,” Sophie said. She smiled and was actually happy to have the company.
Malcolm lowered the window. "Did you forget that I drive for a living now? Your lawn will be fine,” he said, referring to his new gig as a ride-share driver. It was what he ended up with after four years of college and a three-year master’s program.
Malcolm parked the small moving truck in Sophie’s driveway.
“Things must have been bad at your father’s home in Brooklyn for you to move to Hempstead. I know Long Island isn’t exactly a social hot spot,” Sophie said.
“It’s fine. I make the most money when I work on Friday and Saturday nights driving around the drunks. I’d live anywhere to get out of Dad and Cindy’s house, and I get to live with you. You’re a stellar parent and good friend, too,” Malcolm said.
“Thanks. I figured out the parenting thing by the time you were twenty. Let’s go inside and decide where the heck you’re going to put all your stuff.” Malcolm followed her into the small bungalow she bought after her divorce from Roger, which had become her refuge of sorts. It was an area where she was sure not to run into her ex at the local coffee shop, although he had a two-thousand-dollar espresso machine, so he didn’t have to go out for coffee. Roger didn’t drink plain coffee like normal folks.
“Has the third bedroom become a storage space?” Malcolm asked. “I’d love a place for my drafting table. I’m more determined than ever to get a job as an architect. I could wallpaper my bedroom with my rejection letters, as there just isn’t a whole lot of building going on.”
“The room isn’t too bad. I have the garage for that, so I hope you haven’t planned to park your car in there.”
“No, I leased the car for my driving gig. I’m deep in debt and can’t afford a car right now,” Malcolm said.
“I had asked your father if I could leave some stuff in one of his spare rooms, but he turned me down flat. I’m sure it had something to do with Cindy not wanting to look at his ex-wife’s things,” Sophie said. “I’m getting myself tea; do you want anything?”
“No, I have my coffee.” Malcolm held up his jumbo cup. “You might need something stronger than tea when you hear the news I have to share.”
Sophie tried to look cool, but she wasn’t ready for even more life-altering news. She flipped her auburn hair and took a seat next to Malcolm on the couch. “Hit me with it. At this point, I can take anything except you having a terminal illness – please tell me that’s not it.”
“No, Mom. I’ve never been better. I’ve developed an exercise routine because I have little else to do,” Malcom said. “It has nothing to do with me, but it’s about Dad. He and Cindy are getting married, followed by a three-week European honeymoon.”
“Note that I didn’t cry or fly into a rage. It confirms what I suspected: Roger and Cindy have been involved for a lot longer than he admits. It’s not a shotgun wedding, is it?” Sophie asked.
“Oh, no. They aren’t pregnant yet,” Malcolm said.
“Yet?” Sophie asked incredulously.
Malcolm nodded. “That’s probably why he couldn’t have your stuff around. The small bedroom next to theirs is going to be the nursery.”
“I wanted to adopt after we had you, but your father insisted that having one was enough. It’s amazing what a young gal with a good plastic surgeon can do.”
“I sense you’re about to start getting nasty, and I hate going there. How about we change the subject?”
“Do you have friends coming to help you unload your things?” Sophie asked.
“No. Most live in Brooklyn, and getting someone to come out this far is nearly impossible. I’ll get it done. Are you okay, Mom?" Malcolm asked. “I know you’re strong, but you’ve had a lot with your father’s death, divorce, and now getting an unexpected roommate.”
“I miss my father, but I had him into my adult life, so I was fortunate. Your dad is in the midst of a mid-life crisis, but I’ve had plenty of therapy to teach me that it’s not my fault. It’s a lot, but I’m moving forward. As far as you moving in, I consider it a blessing. I’m tired of talking to myself and getting no response.”
“I’d worry if you were hearing a response,” Malcolm joked.
Sophie chuckled and put her head on her son’s shoulder.
She was happy to have her son around. Never in a million years did she picture herself at forty-nine and living on Long Island with her adult son. Not to mention, she worked at a wine bar, and he was the driver.
Five years ago, Sophie was settling into her life as an empty nester in her perfect Brooklyn brownstone. She was considering a job at the Brooklyn Historical Society or a role as a docent at one of New York’s many libraries. Roger had worked at the same hedge fund for years, and they had a considerable nest egg for their golden years.
The changes came fast and began when her cherished father, Bill, died suddenly while on the golf course. He had a cardiac arrest, and there wasn’t a defibrillator in his golf bag. Sophie learned that the stages of grief were legitimate, and she felt them all deeply, which took some time. Her divorce happened while she was in the anger phase, and that was bad timing. She lashed out at anyone in her orbit and there were no exceptions.
Two people had front row seats in her chaotic life: her best friend, Nina, and her mother, Vera. Nina had the sense of humor Sophie needed and an endless supply of compassion.
Her mother added an extra stage to her own grief, which was self-pity and remained stuck there to that day. Her mother moved to Long Island at the same time her daughter did and lived only a few miles away. Vera proposed to Sophie that they buy a house together, but she wriggled out of the idea.
Sophie threw her swimsuit in a bag and headed for the gym. She wasn’t in her EV long when her phone chimed. It was Vera.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” Sophie asked.
“You sound rushed, and nothing’s up. Do I need a reason to call my only child?” Vera said.
"No, but I spoke with you earlier this morning, and I said I would drop by tomorrow afternoon. Not a whole lot has happened since then.” Sophie lied because Roger was getting married, and Malcolm had arrived. “Has something happened in your life since then?”
“I’m thinking of changing the dog food I give Will. What do you think?” Vera asked.
Sophie cringed every time her mother said the dog’s name. Her father was called Bill, and his name was William. After his death, Vera got a toy poodle and named it Will. She imagined her father had a good laugh in the afterlife about that one.
“Sure, Mom. I would go for it since you only live once,” Sophie said.
“You’re patronizing me. I can’t help it that your father died, and I’m all alone. Will is all I have, and his dog food matters,” Vera said in a shaky voice.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it lightly. We can discuss it tomorrow afternoon. We’ll weigh the pros and cons like Daddy used to do before he made any decision. Deciding with your heart was something he never advised. He insisted we look at problems or choices analytically,” Sophie said.
“I hated that when we were doing something like deciding on which brand of cereal to buy at the grocery store. It made sense if we were purchasing a car, but my goodness. Thanks for digging up the memory,” Vera said with a chuckle.
“I know you miss him, and I do, too. He’d want you to enjoy your life instead of being in a constant state of mourning. I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow before I go to work,” Sophie said as she pulled away from the curb.
2
Sophie’s hair was still damp from swimming laps at the community center when she showed up for work at the wine bar. She had chopped her hair short after her divorce and swore she’d never do that again. It had grown long enough to wear in a ponytail, so Sophie pulled it back. Clive’s Wine Bar was cave-like, and she was asked to wear all black, so she felt like a vampire.
Business was
Like her son, she was overqualified for the work she did. Sophie had a degree in education with a minor in English literature from SUNY Albany. She had used the degree to amass a great library in the brownstone, and now the books were in storage. Sophie had planned to make the third bedroom a library, but Malcolm would make better use of it.
“Ma’am. Surprise us with something crisp from the Pacific Northwest.”
“I have a Jermann Pinot Grigio that you might like. Do you want a full or half glass?” Sophie asked.
“A half is good.”
Sophie poured a full glass as she was distracted by the man who sat at the end of the bar. The customer said something, but she was walking down the bar by then.
“Roger, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were in the neighborhood,” Sophie said. She would have grabbed a big cabernet to sample but assumed he was driving.
“I’m here for a couple of reasons. First, I should tell you that Cindy and I are engaged,” Roger said. His slicked-back, black hair was peppered with less and less gray each time she saw him. He was obviously trying to look younger for his bride. Roger was doing it gradually, but Sophie knew what he was up to.
“I heard from our son this morning. How wonderful for you both,” Sophie said with no emotion.
"Sorry, you had to hear it secondhand. I've never had an ex-wife before, and I was told by a coworker that it was something I should tell you myself. I’m late, and I feel like a clod,” Roger said.
“No worries. As you can see, I’m living the dream out here on Long Island. I hear a three-week honeymoon is planned,” Sophie said.
“Malcolm told you all the details. Did he include our itinerary?” he asked.
“No, but please fill me in,” Sophie said. She wished he would but knew he couldn’t resist.
“It’s nothing too exotic. We’re hitting London, Paris, Madrid, and then we’re going to be in Tuscany to chill before coming home. If we had longer, we’d do a deep dive, but hitting the capitals will have to do.”
Sophie smiled. “Sounds great. You said there were a couple of things you wanted to discuss. What else?”
“Being gone for three weeks means we have to find someone to take care of Lindsey. I was hoping that someone would be you.”
Sophie was flabbergasted that Roger had the nerve to ask her to take care of his pug while he went on his honeymoon with wife number two. “I’m so busy, and I know the dog has separation anxiety, so why don’t you ask Malcolm?”
Roger cocked his head. “He lives with you.”
“I know that, but I’d rather he take responsibility and not me,” Sophie said.
“Alright, I’ll ask Malcolm. Did he tell you he’s agreed to be my best man?” Roger said.
"No, but that's fitting. I would think you'd want your adult son to stand up for you. A customer needs me, but good luck and congratulations.”
Sophie walked down the length of the bar as quickly as possible without looking like she was running from a fire. The man with the full glass, when he ordered a half, was still there.
“I’m not going to charge you for that. I was distracted, and I apologize,” Sophie said. “That was my ex-husband asking me to dog-sit while he goes on his honeymoon with his new wife.”
“Congratulations on the divorce,” the man’s wife said. “He seems like a real zero.” She looked at her husband. “Pay her and tip her well.”
“Yes, dear,” he said, and they left.
Sophie would have broken down in tears if not for the nice couple. Roger had left, too, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She and Roger didn’t have a lot when they married, so the ceremony was held in her parent's yard. Her father walking her down the aisle was one of the most special moments of the evening. It was an evening full of love, and they stayed in a fancy hotel for one night for their honeymoon.
Now, she worked at a wine bar in Hempstead, New York, and she hadn’t had a date since Roger. The worst part was that she was forty-nine, and there was no change on the horizon. She had been well taken care of in the divorce and banked a lot when Roger bought her out of the brownstone. A huge portion of that went into buying a house, and the rest was for the years to come. Sophie had a fear of begging on the street corner at eighty.
“Why don’t you get out of here, Sophie? The rush is over, and I’ll clean up.” Clive said. He owned the wine bar and was an old friend from high school.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Absolutely. I got this,” he said with a smile.
Sophie checked her messages when she got in her car. The first one was from Nora Gladstone, her lawyer who helped settle her father's estate.
“Sophie, it’s Nora from Wesson & Gladstone. I need to speak with you in person. It needs to be in the next couple of days, and I’d like you to come alone. I can’t deal with this over the phone because it’s highly sensitive. Call me, and we can set something up. I’m in court tomorrow, so it will have to wait a day. Call me.”
Sophie listened to the message several times because it didn’t make much sense. Her father had left a fairly straightforward will in which Vera received almost everything. Sophie got some stocks and a little money. The will hadn’t been contested as far as she knew. She couldn’t figure out what was going on, and she’d have to wait until the morning to find anything out.
The next voice coming out of her phone was like a salve after a long, not-so-great day.
“Are you still at work? Of course, you are. I’m picking you up at nine for Pilates. We’ll get coffee on the way, and you can tell me what’s going on in that boring little life of yours. You deserve better, Sofia. You’re becoming a hermit in that house of yours. What are you saving your money for – live a little. I love you, girl.”
Sophie put down her phone and smiled. Nina’s messages were always rambling and welcome. She met Nina when they were lifeguards on Jones Beach. Sophie was nineteen, and Nina was twenty-one. They hit it off immediately and have been besties ever since.
On the day they met, Nina told Sophie that her goal for the summer was to find a husband. She preferred someone who was on track to be a doctor or lawyer, and she didn’t like facial hair. She said it made a man seem like he was hiding something. At twenty-one, she had to get moving, Nina said, because she wanted three children, and her wish would be for two girls and a boy. She insisted that a girl needed a sister more than a boy needed a brother. Sophie wasn’t sure about that theory.
By summer's end, she was dating Zeth Marks, who was a medical student. He had a mustache when they met, but it was gone within a week of their dating. Zeth was one of the country’s leading oncology researchers. They had three kids – two girls and a boy.
Sophie was never jealous but always in awe. Nina had it all and didn’t take one thing for granted. She was like a sister to Sophie, which was something she always wished she had.
3
Everything had been unloaded from Malcolm’s truck before Nina swung by, and Sophie had to make her way through the maze of boxes to make it to her bedroom or the bathroom.
“I promise you that it won’t be this way forever,” Malcolm said.
“I might just set out for the kitchen and never be heard from again,” Sophie said jokingly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll send out a search party,” Malcolm said. “Your phone rang while you were in the shower. Nina switched Pilates to noon, and she hopes that isn’t a problem. Call her if you’re not able to make that time.”
