The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,23
to Quinn. His parents were well-respected in the area, but with Mrs. Vizii running around, intimating that Quinn was no better than Satan himself, Quinn’s reputation couldn’t be as sterling as his parents’. Even if people discounted what Mrs. Vizii said—after all, he was the one who’d been stabbed—Mrs. Vizii had cast a shadow over him by making people wonder if he was partially to blame. “I’ve always liked them,” she said.
“Good. I’ll call Chris and have him meet us as soon as we close up.”
“Should I call the kids? We could swing by the cottage and pick them up on our way.”
“Sure. They like The Daily Catch, don’t they?” Mary asked.
“Taylor isn’t big on seafood. But she might be willing to have some shrimp. And Caden will eat anything.”
She tried her daughter’s cell phone but couldn’t reach her. She was about to call her son instead when Taylor’s face lit up her screen.
“There you are,” Autumn said as soon as she answered. “I thought you and Caden might stop by the store this afternoon when you got home. Don’t tell me you’re still at the beach.”
“No, we’re at the cottage now, but we’re getting ready to go to a friend’s house. You don’t mind, do you?”
“What friend?” she asked in surprise. Finding their summer friends usually took a few weeks. It had never happened so soon before.
“Just some kids we met playing beach volleyball,” Taylor said.
Autumn asked for the details, and fortunately, Laurie could vouch for some of the kids’ parents, so she felt comfortable letting them go. “I guess that’ll be okay,” she replied. “As long as you think it’ll be a good environment.”
“You worry too much,” her daughter said.
“I’m a mom. It’s my job to worry.”
“Well, don’t. Their parents will be home. We’re just going to have pizza and play some video games.”
Autumn could easily detect the eye roll in her daughter’s voice but felt instantly better. “Great. That’s what I needed to hear. I love you. Make good decisions,” she said and disconnected. “Looks like it’s just us,” she told her mother and aunt.
“I’ll call over and get a reservation for four,” Mary said.
* * *
Make good decisions.
Her mother’s parting words seemed to mock Taylor as she dropped her towel and examined her naked body in the mirror. Was there any change in her stomach? Were her breasts getting bigger?
She didn’t feel nauseated. Or maybe she did. A little. It was tough to tell. When she thought that she might’ve destroyed her life, she felt slightly ill. Was that regret and fear, or morning sickness?
She’d never been around anyone who was going to have a baby, so she had no idea what it would be like—if there’d be obvious signs before she missed her period or if the changes in her body would be too subtle to notice.
Her brother banged on the door, causing her to jump. “What’s taking so long?” he called through the panel.
She scrambled to put on a pair of panties and a bra so she could dry her hair. “Mom called when I was getting out of the shower,” she said.
“What’d she say?”
“We can go.”
“Good.”
She heard his footsteps move away from the door, but she knew he’d be back if she didn’t emerge on her own in the next few minutes. She rarely wore makeup. He wasn’t used to it taking her very long to get ready. But for some reason, she wanted to look good tonight.
“Hey, where are you?” Caden yelled from the living room fifteen minutes later.
“Almost done!” She swiped more mascara on her eyelashes and stepped back to evaluate the effect before putting on some lip gloss and perfume.
“Taylor! What the heck?” he cried, a whine to his voice. “Are you kidding me? We’re going to miss the food!”
“I’m coming!” She shoved twenty dollars into the pocket of her skinny jeans before grabbing her cell phone off the bathroom counter.
When she came down the hall, he lifted the remote to turn off the TV but forgot about that the moment he saw her. The video game he’d been playing droned on in an annoying loop as he said, “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You never wear makeup.”
“I do sometimes.”
He peered closer at her. “Why tonight?”
She locked the screen on her phone so that she wouldn’t accidentally pocket dial someone—and also because it gave her something she could do to appear preoccupied. “No reason.”
“You didn’t even want to meet them. And now you want to impress them? Who?