Sand dollar lane, p.13
Sand Dollar Lane, page 13
She was surprised to see her mother press her lips together like she was trying to digest something sour. “Do you know him?” Hannah asked.
“Not really,” Mom said, then quickly moved on to new conversational territory. “We should probably stay in the car to eat. It’s not very warm yet.”
It suddenly wasn’t very warm in the car, either. What the heck? Hannah knew better than to ask. When Mom didn’t want to talk about something, the talking didn’t happen.
* * *
Just the sight of Brody Green was enough to make Lucy lose her appetite.
But not for long. This was going to be a great day and she refused to let the sight of that irritating man put her in a bad mood. She and Hannah finished their breakfast, parking at the edge of the shore, watching the waves come in, then, after getting a text from Darla to say they had hit town, Lucy drove to her new home to meet them.
They arrived there just before Darla and Orren pulled up with a U-Haul loaded with Lucy’s things, along with the retro white-and-chrome kitchen set Darla had found for her at a garage sale and Hannah’s bedroom set. (Lucy had a new one coming. No way was she sleeping in the bed she’d shared with the cheater.)
Hannah insisted on taking pictures for Instagram, of the house and the whole unloading process, including shooting a reel, which caught Lucy tripping over the front porch step carrying a box of sheets and blankets. She went flying, landing bottom end up.
“You okay?” Orren asked, helping her to her feet.
“I’m fine,” she said, brushing off her throbbing knees.
Her deviant daughter giggled and showed her the moment captured on her phone. Ugh.
“Delete that,” Lucy commanded.
“No way,” Hannah said, and predicted that everyone in Insta-Land was going to love it. It made Mom so human and adorable.
“Creative control,” Lucy reminded her and Hannah frowned and deleted the embarrassing moment.
A man who looked like he was pushing ninety came over from next door and offered to help bring in the few things they had left, but Lucy assured him they had it under control.
“That’s so sweet of you to offer,” she said to him.
“Gotta help the ladies,” he replied, and introduced himself as Frances Sullivan. “Here, let me get that for you,” he said, taking a box of pots from her.
There was nothing to do but thank him and watch as he staggered up the walk with it. Everyone needed a purpose. And, unlike her, he managed not to trip.
Mr. Sullivan, it turned out, was a widower, and Lucy suspected he would probably be over a lot. That would be okay because everyone needed friends and a place to belong.
Lucy’s other neighbor, Bonnie, stopped by to welcome her to the neighborhood, bringing chocolates from Cindy’s Candies shaped like seashells along with a plate of brownies. “From a mix,” she confessed, and Lucy assured her brownies from a mix would be lovely. Nobody made brownies like the ones her sister made from scratch but Bonnie didn’t need to know that.
“We’ve just ordered pizza. Stay and have a slice,” Lucy urged.
“No. You’re trying to get settled,” Bonnie protested.
“There’s plenty,” Lucy assured her. “If you don’t mind a shortage of chairs. I’m going to be doing some renovating, so I don’t have much furniture at the moment.”
“Another time,” Bonnie said. “Meanwhile, if you need a place to sit, you’re always welcome to come on over to my place.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that,” Lucy said. Bonnie seemed like someone she would enjoy hanging out with. Hopefully, they’d get a chance to get to know each other better.
Mr. Sullivan didn’t stay for pizza, either. “Acid reflux,” he explained. But he was happy to take home a couple of the brownies Bonnie had brought.
Hannah grabbed a slice of pizza from the box, then went out to try one of the kayaks the former owners had left for them.
“She’s going to love it here,” Darla predicted.
“I hope so,” said Lucy.
“And you. Are you going to love it?”
“I’m going to love fixing up this house. And my neighbors are great.” Lucy sat down across from her sister at the table and took a slice of pizza and set it on a napkin.
“No regrets?” Darla looked concerned and Lucy wished she hadn’t complained earlier to her sister about Brody Green.
“None,” Lucy insisted. “I’m already doing great.”
“Except for Mr. Fly in the Ointment.”
“Flies are a fact of life.”
“Things will probably settle down eventually. Brody Green can’t be as bad as you’ve been making him out to be,” Darla said.
“Ha! I bet you’ll never see him in sandals. He’s probably got cloven hooves.”
“And he keeps his pitchfork in the garage?”
“Something like that.”
Darla shook her head. “It’s too bad you two got off on the wrong foot.”
“Cloven foot.”
“He might actually be a nice man. And you do have what you do for a living in common.”
“Yeah, so did Evan and I.” Lucy shook her head and clamped her teeth down on her pizza.
“Not every man is an Evan,” Darla pointed out. “Look at Orren.”
At that moment Orren sauntered into the kitchen from the deck where he’d found a loose board to nail down. “You talking about me?”
“We’re talking about what a great husband you are,” Darla said, making her husband’s cheeks turn pink.
“Can we clone you?” Lucy teased.
Orren made a face and snagged a slice of pizza. “The old guy next door was telling me you can fish that canal. Next time we come down I’m bringing my fishing pole.”
“Look at all the nice green lawns those houses across the water have,” Darla said to him. “And think of all the chemicals they put on those lawns. I bet every time it rains they trickle right down into the water. Any fish you catch out there is liable to have three heads.”
He made another face, turned around and went back outside to inspect the canal further.
“He is a great guy, perfect for you,” Lucy said to her sister. “You were lucky to find him.”
“You could get lucky down here.”
Unbidden, the image of Brody Green came to mind. Why did he have to be such a jerk?
“Not holding my breath,” Lucy said. Love was overrated. Sex was overrated. Men were overrated.
Brody Green was especially overrated.
Twelve
Hannah returned to Seattle for finals week but finished on Wednesday and was back that very evening. She was glad to see that Mom had made good on her promise and gotten paddleboards.
“I am so going to try one of those out tomorrow,” Hannah said.
“After work,” said Mom.
Oh, yeah. That.
The next morning Mom woke her up at eight o’clock, stuffed eggs down her and then insisted Hannah get going so they could get to the office.
Why did they have to get up at the butt crack of dawn?
“The early bird gets the worm,” Mom said when Hannah protested.
Such a stupid saying. There were plenty of worms to go around. And how many worms could one bird eat, anyway?
“I didn’t think I’d get stuck in the office the second I got here,” Hannah grumbled.
“Sorry, but I need someone there to greet walk-ins and answer the phone when I’m out.”
“I bet it won’t even ring.”
“It might. And speaking of phones, no playing games on yours until you get the website finished. That should keep you busy at least for today.”
That and working on making them into influencers.
Hannah was surprised when they walked into the Dream Homes office. The one Mom had shared with Daddy had been slick and modern and not all that inviting. Mom’s office here looked almost like you were coming into someone’s house to hang out. The desks were feminine and pretty and both the decor and the furniture in the reception area screamed beach. People would enjoy sitting in these chairs with the comfy-looking cushions and drinking iced coffee or bubble tea and talking about what kind of house they wanted Mom to find them. Whatever they wanted, she’d find. She was that good.
“It’s so cute,” Hannah said, looking around.
Mom smiled. “I think so. And it’s welcoming.”
“For sure,” Hannah agreed. She walked over to the desk nearest the door. “Is this one mine?”
“Yes, it is,” Mom said, and handed her a cell phone. “You’re going to be my receptionist slash secretary slash social media manager. That should give you enough work for the summer.”
“You may have to pay me overtime,” Hannah said.
“If you put any in. You are at the beach, after all. I’ll be lucky if I can keep you working part-time.”
Hannah was mildly offended. “I’m adulting now. I’ll do my part.”
Mom came over and hugged her and kissed her cheek. “I know you will, and I promise I won’t keep you chained to your desk all day.”
At the moment Hannah didn’t have anything else going on, so what the heck.
The rest of that day she was busy setting up a Dream Homes Facebook page and putting the final touches on her mother’s new website, posting pictures that both she and Mom had taken of the town as well as of Mom’s first listing. The next day Mom got another listing, and come Friday morning she had set up an appointment to show it that afternoon to a client she had coming down from Seattle. She’d barely gotten started and already she had deals going. Mom was amazing.
Too amazing to be alone. Hannah sure hoped somebody in this little town would fall for her mother. Not that she was in a hurry to see Mom hook up with just anyone, of course, but it would be a good ego boost if somebody wanted to hang out with her. Who knew? Once Mom became an internet celeb, all kinds of men were probably going to want to date her.
She hadn’t been quite as on board with Hannah’s plans to make them the next big thing when Hannah asked to use her credit card for a couple of things she needed, things that neither Hannah’s allowance nor her minimum wage would cover (especially since she was paying for things like car insurance, for crying out loud).
“What do you need to get?” Mom had asked suspiciously.
“Just some stuff I can use to film our house project. Don’t worry, it won’t cost much.”
Much, it turned out, was a relative term, and the relative known as Mom wasn’t exactly thrilled when she saw the invoices Hannah had printed for the various things she’d ordered online.
“What on earth!” Mom had exclaimed, looking through the pile of printouts Hannah had left for her.
“It’s all stuff we need. Trust me.”
“This from the girl who told me we’d be good using her cell phone? And why do we need a microphone?”
“A cell phone mic isn’t all that good.”
“And a lighting kit?” Mom squeaked.
“You want to look good, don’t you?”
“Green screen?”
“We might need one.”
Mom frowned “Tripod? Digital camera?”
“You can take it out of my salary,” Hannah offered.
“You’re right, I can,” Mom said irritably.
Which meant, after paying for insurance and equipment, Hannah would be standing on the street with a cardboard sign that said Anything Helps. She frowned.
Mom sighed. “I tell you what, we’ll split the cost.”
“But you can afford to pay for all this,” Hannah pointed out. Which, of course, made more sense. Mom was the one making the big bucks. Hannah was only making minimum wage.
“Yes, I can, but you’re adulting now. Remember? And this is your project, so you can help. If it works out the way you think it will, maybe you’ll get that raise you talked about.”
“Fine,” Hannah had said, also irritated. When had her mother turned into a hard ass?
“Don’t worry. I won’t make you split it fifty-fifty,” Mom had said with a grin that looked positively evil.
Like that was supposed to make Hannah feel better.
It was four in the afternoon, and they were both in the office, Mom checking out other houses for sale in town and Hannah trying to outline her plan for making her mother a celebrity realtor, when Mom’s cell phone dinged a reminder.
“I’ve got to get going,” Mom said. “Time to show the Heatherton house. I’ll be back later, hopefully to write up a deal. If I’m not back by five, you can close up. Meanwhile, you’re in charge.”
“Yeah, right,” Hannah muttered. “In charge of nothing.”
Even though Mom was getting busy, they’d only had a couple of walk-ins so the office would be dead.
“Things will pick up,” Mom predicted.
She was probably right. But meanwhile, being stuck in the dead zone was a yawn-o with no work to do. The website was up and running and Hannah had finished with her influencer website—Always Beachin’—where she’d already posted an intro to who they were along with lots of beach pictures and promises to share ways to make life pretty and perfect. She’d also posted her reel of Mom and the seagulls on their new YouTube Channel, as well as getting the dedicated Instagram account set up. She resigned herself to a boring afternoon.
Oh, well. So what if no one came in? She had friends she could check in with on Facebook and Insta. And she needed to finish reading her how-to book on becoming an influencer. Hannah could fill the rest of the afternoon. Like Mom always said, only boring people got bored.
She sighed. She could fill the time better with a cute guy by her side. Where in this town were the men?
She got her answer half an hour later when a pair of board shorts walked past the office plate glass window attached to the cutest guy she’d seen in a long time. He had sandy hair, undercut with the top slicked back, and a squared jaw that would make him perfect for a superhero in a Marvel movie. And then there was the amazing body. Oh, yeah. Beach Man. Was he here visiting? Did he live here?
No, she couldn’t be that lucky. But maybe he lived in Seattle. Oooh, that would actually be even better since she was only in town for the summer.
She ran to the door and poked her head out in time to see him turn into Good Times Ice Cream Parlor. It was a hot day. She suddenly felt an overwhelming need for an ice-cream break.
She locked up and hurried down the walk. Then casually sauntered inside.
Mom had taken her into the ice-cream parlor the day before for a cone and it had been a major tongue treat. The parlor itself was a treat for the eyes with old-fashioned furniture scattered around. The long glass order counter offered so many bins of flavors that it actually turned a corner with another counter sweeping the length of the store. Hannah didn’t have to pretend to have a hard time choosing.
The older woman behind the counter greeted her. “Hello again. I remember you from yesterday. Lucy Holmes’s daughter, right?”
It was enough to make Beach Man turn and look.
Hannah pretended not to see. “I am. I’m working right next door.”
“Well, welcome back,” said the woman. Then to Beach Man, “So, Declan, what would you like?”
Declan. What a sexy name.
“How about I have what she’s having, and I’ll pay for both?” he said, nodding in Hannah’s direction.
She turned her head to look at him, letting her hair cascade to the side. “Thanks. That’s really nice.”
“No problem,” he said. “What flavor do you like?”
She still loved bubble gum, but to ask for that sounded...childish. And rocky road? Everyone asked for rocky road. Boring. She scanned the tubs.
“How about huckleberry?” she suggested.
He nodded his approval. “Love that. It tastes like huckleberry pie with ice cream.”
She’d never had huckleberry pie. What had she been missing?
“Want another scoop of something?” he asked.
Yes, but she was no pig. “One is great.”
“Okay.”
The transaction was completed, the cones handed over and the ice cream sampled. And it was good.
“You got some place to go?” he asked.
“I have to get back to the office,” she said. “But I can take a break.”
He beamed at her like she’d done him a really big favor and they settled at one of the fancy little tables, her fitting in the space just fine, him having to stretch out his legs.
“You new here?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“My mom just moved here. I’m down for the summer, working for her.”
He nodded. “My dad lives here. I’m working as a lifeguard at the pool.”
“Cool.”
Lifeguard Man. She wouldn’t mind being rescued by him and given some mouth to mouth. But not if she’d actually swallowed water, of course. That could get gross. He had great lips. Talk about a tongue treat. Was she staring?
She quickly took a bite of ice cream and looked around the shop, playing it casual.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Hannah.”
“Cute name. I bet you’ve got a boyfriend. You have to have a boyfriend.”
“I did.” The douchebag. “We broke up.”
Declan smiled. “Yeah?”
She pointed her ice-cream cone at him. “You’re gaming me. You’ve got a girlfriend.”
He shook his head. “Nope. We broke up.”
“Right.”
“Truth.”
“How come?” Had his girlfriend caught him cheating?
Like any guy would confess to that. Hers hadn’t. She’d had to learn about it from a friend.
He shrugged. “It just didn’t work out. She didn’t like to do a lot of the stuff I like to do. Not too into sports.”
