Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,6
me back,” Darla said. But she hadn’t just moved back home. Rather, she’d done it spectacularly by buying an enormous modern house right on the beach. “That and being closer to my mom. Even if Nick still lives here.”
Kit scrunched up her nose at the mention of Darla’s ex-husband. “How’s that going, both of you living in the same town again?”
Darla waved a hand dismissively. “When I look out my window onto that gorgeous blue ocean, thoughts of Nick just fade away.”
“…until he jogs by shirtless,” Kit said pointedly.
“I wasn’t even sure that was him.” Darla’s fair skin colored.
“He waved,” Kit said. “Of course you were sure.”
“Are you blushing?” Hadley asked Darla. Turning to Kit, she asked, “Did I miss something?” And then to Darla, “Are you and Nick a thing again?”
“No!” Darla said vehemently. “Absolutely not.”
“You two were so young when you married,” Kit said. “Maybe things would be different now.”
“Trust me,” Darla said. “Once around with him was enough.”
Hadley couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you both,” she said as they arrived at Pooch Palace’s front door. “But I’ve got to go.”
Kit glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to pick up Ollie from day care. I promised him some beach time today. Good luck, Hadley.” She gave a little wave. “Call me.”
“Bye, Had.” Darla gave her a final hug. “Go in there and get it over with. Don’t forget we’re doing lunch on Saturday; then you’re all coming over to help me unpack my bedroom, okay? There will be wine, I promise.”
A quick glance at her dear friends reminded Hadley that she could have it a lot worse. Kit had lost her husband, a marine, three years ago and was raising their sweet little boy on her own. And Darla had just been declared cancer-free after a two-year battle with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Hadley’s troubles were nothing compared to what her friends had been through.
“Just remember,” Kit called, “you came here to lie low, to let the bad press die down.”
“You always overcommit,” Darla said. “Look out for you for once.”
Hadley nodded gratefully and inhaled a lungful of the fresh sea air from the ocean just blocks away. “Okay, I’m going in.”
Chapter 3
As Hadley pushed open the heavy door of Pooch Palace, it made a familiar scraping sound against the old wooden floor, just as a bell tinkled cheerily above her head. Despite her nerves, an immediate sense of comfort enveloped her as she took in the rose-covered wallpaper that her grandmother had always said reminded her of an English garden. She smiled at the large open area surrounded by colorful plastic gating where the dogs could hang out and play, the comfy carpet squares to nap and hang out, the water bowls along the sides. It was a coffee shop hangout for dogs, sort of.
On closer inspection, the normally bark-filled environment was strangely quiet. The several cordoned-off areas for dog crates were empty. As were the glass-doored rooms that lined the back. Her grandmother called them guest suites, each one lined with wallpaper showing a different dog breed, except for Hadley’s favorite, which was covered with cute little painted dog paw prints, a project she’d done herself back in high school.
But where were all the dogs?
A basset hound popped up from a purple velvet dog bed on a window seat, his long velvety ears unfolding from over his eyes as he suddenly perked up, his tags clinking as he shook his head vigorously.
“Bowie!” Hadley almost cried in relief. Bowie was her grandmother’s dog, and they were lifelong pals. He turned to her at the sound of his name, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s my boy?” Hadley bent over and tapped her thigh to get him to notice that it was her.
Bowie leaped off his bed and ran over. But just as she went to pet him, he kept going, jetting right past her, behind the counter, into the back of the building.
Okay, apparently even unconditional doggie love was going to be denied her today. As she straightened up, she caught sight of an older woman with short gray hair coming out from the back. “Ivy!”
“Hiya, Hadley, sweetie.” Ivy gave her a giant hug. “We’re so glad you’re back.”
A woman of about fifty with red hair and a bright yellow flowered dress followed close behind. “Well I’ll be!” Mayellen exclaimed in a deep Southern accent. “Look here, Ivy, our baby girl Hadley’s back. And she’s pretty as a peach.”
Hadley hugged her grandmother’s longtime employees with affection.