A Beach Wish Read online

  “Do you have business locally?”

  “No. Actually I’m, uh, working remotely.” Just a little white lie. Just reshuffle the words and you had “I’m not remotely working.”

  “We have pretty good Wi-Fi here,” the bartender said.

  Zoe smiled. Signed the check, adding a big tip, something her mother taught her. Always tip big the first time, and they’ll treat you right after that. Though now that she thought about it, how did her mother know that? She never paid for anything. First it was their dad, then the men who would never become her second or any other kind of husband but who still continued to woo her year after year.

  “Night.” Zoe turned toward the door just as the band started to play.

  “Jenny,” crooned the singer, as if calling Zoe back. But Zoe barely slowed down. Eve’s penetrating gaze on her back propelled her through the door.

  Eve watched Zoe Bascombe hurry from the room. The girl was definitely spooked. She knew. She must know. That must be the reason she’d come here. Not to visit the spa or the beach like the other guests, but to return to Wind Chime Beach. Her mother must have sent her. Her mother—and Eve’s mother.

  Did Lee know? From the way he’d been acting he must have a suspicion that Zoe’s mother was Jenny Campbell. Why else start the set with his “signature” song. He usually didn’t sing it until the end of the evening. Saving the best for last, but in his case, ending his day with what tortured him most, even after all these years.

  There could be no mistake. Eve had a half sister. They didn’t know about each other—at least Eve hadn’t known. And Zoe still seemed clueless, just spooked.

  Was it fear or knowledge that made her act so furtively? Was she checking Eve out? Why not just ask Eve if they had the same mother? And why come here now? What did she want?

  Eve stopped herself, horrified at her own suspicions. She’d spent years undoing the mistrust of people that exuded from her grandmother, and which Hannah had wittingly or unwittingly taught Eve to expect in life. It hadn’t always been that way. When they’d lived at Wind Chime with Floret and Henry and the others, Eve had seen the good in people every day. Had trusted them, depended on them, loved them.

  Her grandmother had always had an edge, a strain of mistrust. She was born and raised nearby. The family had worked hard just to survive. Then she’d lost a husband and a son. Her daughters had married local boys who turned out to be lazy and angry, ready to blame everyone but themselves for their lack of success. And they blamed Hannah for not doing more for them, when she’d actually been very generous. Over and over and over she loaned them money she knew she would never see again; then one day she stopped.

  The daughters cried and cajoled and when she didn’t cave, they turned their backs on her. Hannah knew they were just waiting for her to die so they could claim their part of her self-made empire.

  But not Eve. Eve loved her like a mother, even as she watched her grandmother turn from bitter to toxic to destructive. And she loved her anyway.

  And then there was Eve’s father, whose own heartache had hardened Hannah’s. And they’d spread that hardness to Eve. Floret and Henry had been the antidote to the poison that spread around her. Until the “fight” that tore them apart. Even after that, Eve had stayed close to them. Usually without Hannah’s knowledge.

  Hannah had bought the inn for Eve and turned it over to her. Eve had made good. She had a legacy to leave her own daughters, who were all hardworking and caring people.

  And never once would Hannah tell Eve about her mother.

  Sometimes the “Hannah streak,” as middle daughter Noelle called it, would try to wriggle its way into Eve’s psyche, like just now with Zoe Bascombe. And when it did, it had to be dealt with ruthlessly.

  There was no place for anger or bitterness in Eve’s life. It would be the death of her and the Solana.

  People came to her to get in touch with their inner feelings, to learn to accept life the way it was, to find solace, or peace, or help through a crisis. And she was there to give them a haven in which to do that.

  Without judgment.

  Tonight she had an awful feeling that Zoe Bascombe wasn’t here to enrich her own life, but to unravel Eve’s.

  “Deep thoughts,” Mike intoned softly.

  Eve jumped, not realizing he’d leaned all the way across the bar to whisper in her ear. “What?”

  He frowned at her, jerked his head toward the door to the storeroom. Eve slid off the barstool and went around the bar, waited while he told Gary, the barman, to take over for him, and then let him trundle her through the door.

  As it shut behind him, Lee’s sonorous, sad voice became an indistinct hum.

  Mike turned her around and took her by the shoulders. “What’s up?”

  At first Eve just shook her head. The whole thing was too strange. Her father was acting crazy, her grandmother was being secretive, and a woman had checked into her inn asking about a local commune.

  It sounded ridiculous.

  “Out with it.”

  “Zoe Bascombe.” She stuck after the name.

  “What about her?”

  Eve shook her head again. She could tell Mike anything, everything. He was more than a bartender, a right-hand man. He was her best friend. Had always been her best friend from the first time he’d chosen her for his tug-of-war team on the school playground. He was a town boy; she’d been one of the “hippie brats.” He was always there for her and she took him for granted.

  He’d been there at her hippie wedding ceremony to Walter Flannigan and kept her going when Walter left them for the promise of wealth in the oil fields of Alaska. Had stood by her when the call came that Walter had died on the job.

  They were on-again, off-again lovers. Friends with benefits who led their own lives.

  “I think she’s my half sister,” Eve blurted out.

  “Whoa.”

  “Possibly,” she qualified.

  “Huh. Did she say so?”

  Eve shook her head. “I looked her up. Her mother’s name is Jenny Bascombe, née Campbell. My mother is Jenny Campbell.”

  “There must be a lot of Jenny Campbells out there.”

  “That’s what I tried telling myself, but then . . . I found this.” She unfolded the copies of the two photos of Zoe and Mel she’d made as soon as she returned to the hotel and had been carrying around all day.

  Mike took them, moved over to the desk, and turned on the work lamp. Set the two photos down side by side. Let out a low whistle.

  Eve leaned against his back. “This is Mel.” She pointed to the one on the right. “And that is Zoe at sixteen. They’re practically identical except for the hair color.”

  “Huh.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.” Not getting a response, she asked, “Do you think it’s just a coincidence?”

  “No. I noticed it before.”

  “What? When?”

  “Last night. She checked in late and took a look in at the bar. For a second I thought she was Mel. Something about the way she moved, or tilted her head. I didn’t think that much about it until Lee started acting so crazy.” He shrugged. “You weren’t the only one watching her tonight.”

  “Lee? Do you think he suspects?”

  “How could he not? But whether he’s willing to confront it is a whole ’nother other.”

  “Oh God.” Eve covered her face with her hands.

  He pulled her hands away. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you need moral support, you know I’m here.”

  “I know, thanks.”

  “But right now, as your bartender, I need to get back to work.”

  “Thanks, you always make me feel sane when I get nutty.”

  “Aw, get on now.” He turned off the desk lamp and opened the door. Lee’s song hit them like a blow to the solar plexus. It was a new verse, one that Eve had never heard before, and one she knew had just been written.
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  “I saw you last night in a dream

  You were young, but I wasn’t

  You wanted to stay but I scared you away . . .”

  Eve slammed the door against his words.

  “You’re going to have to face him,” Mike said.

  Eve nodded. “And he’s going to have to face her.”

  Chapter 8

  Mike turned Eve around to face him. “Why? He had an affair when he was just a kid, and I for one am glad he did.” He smiled, that lopsided half smile, half grimace, goofy and loving and all Mike.

  Eve loved him for it and for all the support he’d given her over the years. “Because he’s obviously upset by her.”

  “She’ll be gone soon.” He frowned. “She’s here on business, I think she said. How long is she registered for?”

  “Two nights.” So far, Eve thought. But she couldn’t let Zoe Bascombe go before letting her know she had a sister, if only half. And for Eve . . . Well, it meant the world to her. Even if they had nothing in common but a mother.

  Only a mother? That was major. Zoe could tell her so much.

  “I’m going to ask her to stay on.”

  Mike snorted. “First you’ll have to tell her the news. Unless you think she already knows.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Think this one down the road a bit.”

  Eve nodded. He was right. She didn’t know Zoe Bascombe. It wouldn’t be fair to spring this on her. She didn’t know where it might lead. She’d all but given up the possibility of having a half sister or brother somewhere—until she’d seen those photos. And if she had a half sister, she might have a whole half family out there. Was she ready to go there after all these years?

  “I’ll be mindful.”

  “You always are.” Mike kissed her forehead. “Take the rest of the night off. Who’s on night duty?”

  “Ernie Wilson.”

  “Good. I’ll close up.” Mike opened the door a crack. The band had started on a new song. Mike ushered her out. “Sleep well.” He went back to the bar and Eve headed for the side door and home.

  The cottage was lit up and for a moment Eve hoped Mel would actually be there instead of out with Eli. But it was Noelle, home earlier than expected. She was curled up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table next to her, a movie streaming on her open laptop. She was fast asleep.

  Eve tiptoed past and went into the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea. Kept one ear out for Mel’s return or for Noelle to rouse. Why was Noelle home so early, and why was Mel so late?

  She sat until her tea grew cold, poured it out and rinsed the cup, and then with nothing left to do but worry, she went to bed.

  But not to sleep.

  Her brain was a jumble of moving parts, none of which made sense and all of which were in trouble of accelerating out of control. She’d known at an early age that you couldn’t control most things. If she could, she’d have had one of those nuclear families the kids in town had. A father who went to work in the morning and came home at night in time for dinner. She’d have a mother to shop with for school clothes and sing her to sleep.

  Her father had sung her to sleep, Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly . . . But he was usually gone. Then Floret did, or sometimes even Henry tried, though he couldn’t, as everyone knew, “carry a tune in a bucket,” which never made sense to her, because he chanted the most beautiful sounds that weren’t words but that were better than words.

  Hannah didn’t sing. She didn’t try, or maybe she just didn’t like singing. Maybe because it had taken her only living son away from her. Or brought Eve’s mother to Wind Chime in the first place.

  Eve turned over, tried to empty her mind, heard the movie go silent, then Noelle go off to bed. She hadn’t even checked to see if Mel had come home. Was that an omen? Good or bad? There is no good or bad . . . just things we don’t understand.

  Eve wasn’t sure she still believed that. She rolled to her back, moved to her side and drew up her knees. Finally she took her phone out of the bedside table drawer and looked at the time. One o’clock.

  Mel had been upset this morning when she’d left the inn. Eve didn’t blame her.

  She’d just been doing her job, helping guests and being friendly. As she pointed out to both of them before she left.

  She was right. Eve and Lee had been reacting to the appearance of Zoe Bascombe. Mel had done everything right and she’d caught flak. An innocent bystander. And suddenly a constant reminder. At least to Eve.

  She needed to talk to Mel. Actually both—all three—of her daughters. But to Mel first. Not about Zoe but about Eli. She had to make sure they wouldn’t do anything stupid before Eve could sort out her own suddenly volatile existence.

  That had to be dealt with first; then she could deal with all the issues at once, Mel and Eli, Noelle and her career, and even Harmony and her growing family.

  She’d never been prone to putting off things that needed to be said, done, or at least discussed, but tonight . . . For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure of herself, of what she wanted, or if she was even right.

  And she wouldn’t be until she found out the truth about Zoe Bascombe.

  She pulled the pillow over her head. Threw it off again.

  She had a half sister. What did that even mean, half sister?

  For nearly fifty years Eve had been an only child. So what if Zoe’s mother might also be Eve’s? They shared a mother, but family? Memories? Kinship? They had no common background, loves, fears, nothing.

  Eve heard the front door open and close. Mel was home. She went straight to her room.

  Eve’s eyes closed.

  She had a half sister.

  David paced the floor of his room at Wind Chime. Heard Henry go downstairs for his late-night snack. David was tempted to join him, but he didn’t want to be standing in the foyer like an irate parent when Eli finally returned. It was after one, but Eli had turned eighteen two months ago. He was an adult. But he was still thinking and acting like a kid.

  He had his big exam for the pre-semester science program on Sunday and he needed his sleep. He’d been looking forward to it for months, ever since Henry had seen it in an alumni magazine.

  He’d studied like crazy, but now he seemed distracted. And David knew why.

  Mel Gordon. Wherever Eli was tonight, Mel Gordon would be with him.

  David stopped at the window, leaned on the sill. Where were they? Not at Mel’s house. Eve would have sent Eli home hours ago. She was no more happy about this than he was.

  Not that he had anything against Mel. She was a good kid. A little impulsive, which wasn’t a totally bad thing. Had a good heart. But at seventeen, she was still kind of clueless. Immature for her age. Didn’t seem to have any drive.

  They might be happy together one day. But not yet. The world was a tough place and getting tougher by the day. Wind Chime was a haven—that’s why David had brought Eli here. But maybe it hadn’t prepared him for surviving in a world gone crazy.

  And what would happen when David left? Which he had to do soon. He couldn’t make a living without working in the field. He needed outside assignments to fill the coffers. Not just the occasional book and travel page.

  He needed new material. And he needed to breathe, to feel the exhilaration of discovery, of fear, of triumph. He’d been able to keep working because he had Henry and Floret to look after Eli while he was gone. But they couldn’t anymore.

  Eli was a man. He’d be away at school. He loved them but he wouldn’t obey them. And they would never impose rules on him. It wasn’t their way.

  David saw him before he heard him, walking up the drive in the moonlight. He looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Yeah, David remembered those days when his biggest decision was whether to crawl another foot out on a ledge for the perfect shot or play it safe and be satisfied with the shots he already had. It was always the ledge. But it was his ledge, his life, and no one would be hurt if he made the wrong decisi
on.

  He went downstairs and was caught standing in the foyer when Eli came through the front door.

  “Oh, man,” Eli said, and slowly closed the door. “I’m a little late.”

  David couldn’t even think of anything to say. What do you think you’re doing? Are you being responsible? Are you having sex? Of course they were. Are you taking precautions? In the midst of unbridled teenage lust? He doubted it. Who’s going to support you if she gets pregnant? Do you think in your wildest dreams they’ll ever let you marry her?

  “Where were you?” God, he sounded like an old fart.

  “Just around. Hanging out. We lost track of time.”

  “Who is we?”

  Eli shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

  “Mel?”

  “So? You sound just like Mel’s mother. It’s because of that stupid feud, isn’t it? That’s so last century.”

  “It has nothing to do with any feud. It has to do with your future—and Mel’s.”

  “Mel wants to get married.”

  David had been expecting this, was waiting for it, but hearing it out loud . . . He pulled himself together. “What about university, the pre-semester science program? The entrance exam is this weekend.” David clamped down on his next thought.

  “I don’t know.”

  Well, David did. He knew that he had a responsibility to his brother to raise his child the best he could. And not going to school to marry a girl, neither of them with any way to support themselves, was no future.

  “Our future is together.”

  “It may be, but right now—”

  “What do you know? You don’t even know what it’s like to be in love.”

  Eli was right. David had never found one person who meant more to him than photography and freedom.

  Henry stepped out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of yogurt and granola. Eli brushed past him and ran up the stairs.

  David followed more slowly. Eli was teetering on a life decision, and David had made a hash of trying to help. Like he usually did.

  “The future is the future,” Henry said, and putting his free hand on David’s shoulder, they walked up the flight of stairs together.