Summer Beach - Jan Moran
Chapter 1
Summer Beach, California
With only a midnight moon to light her way, Marina ducked under a wrought-iron archway covered in honeysuckle and wound her way along a pathway lined with tropical vegetation toward the old beach cottage. Breathing in the fresh sea air helped settle her tattered nerves.
When Marina reached the covered porch, she brushed sand from the high-heeled shoes she couldn’t wait to kick off and rang the doorbell. While she waited, she glanced around. Next to her, a wooden swing creaked in the brisk wind that carried the scent of early spring. Beyond the house, moonlight illuminated the sleepy, beachside village that hugged the Pacific Ocean in Southern California.
No answer. She tapped on the beveled-glass window of the sun-bleached door and called out. “Ginger, it’s me. Marina.”
To one side of the wide front porch, pink bougainvillea bracts fluttered in the wind, petals scattering like confetti across the lawn. She brushed one from her silk blouse.
Marina rolled her aching shoulders. Her slim skirt felt restrictive, and she wished she’d taken time to change before fleeing the city. The drive from San Francisco had been arduous, not only because of the molasses-paced traffic through Los Angeles but also due to the wounds inflicted on her heart this morning.
Not to mention her professional reputation. Marina winced at the thought.
Marina ached to nestle into her grandmother’s calming embrace—just as she and her sisters had always done—and lose herself in Ginger’s spacious old kitchen. When Marina was younger, cooking with her grandmother usually soothed her teenage angst. Ginger would pour a glass of wine and tune in her old friend Julia Child’s cooking show, insisting they cook along with Julia. Usually, they were successful, though sometimes they had a major flop. Through it all, Marina thrived in the glow of Ginger’s unflappable approach to life.
Thinking back to those halcyon days, Marina wished she’d made a different choice and spent the last twenty years pursuing another career. Could she have made a living doing what she loved?
“Hello? Ginger, are you there?” Marina banged on the door again and then peered into a window. Inside the sprawling cottage splashed in a sunny shade of coral, comfortable, artsy furnishings were in their proper place, but there was no sign of Ginger.
Their proper places.
Marina’s sisters knew their place in the world. And to the outsiders, so did Marina. Only on the inside did she often feel like she’d been forced into a fancy designer shoe two sizes too small.
Of the three sisters, Marina had always been the pragmatic, driven one who forged ahead and stayed the course—often to her detriment. Kai, the youngest, was the free-spirited dancer who was now on tour with a musical theater company. Their middle sister, Brooke, was the homebody of the family with three rambunctious boys and a husband who was a captain in the fire department. She spent her days refereeing arguments and tending to her thriving vegetable garden.
Unfortunately, Marina’s life had imploded in a spectacular fashion this morning on channel KSFB—a San Francisco Bay area television station—where she’d been delivering morning news for almost two decades. Only this time, Marina had been part of the story.
She’d arrived on set before dawn as she always did, ready to deliver the morning news to the early risers of San Francisco. As she passed Babe Barstow, who covered entertainment and local news, the younger woman had a strange, smug expression on her face, but Marina had become accustomed to that.
Even though Marina knew Babe was angling for Marina’s job, when the cameras were rolling, they were professional and friendly. At fifteen years younger than Marina, Babe still had a lot to learn. For starters, why did she insist on using her cutesy nickname when she wanted to be taken seriously as a news anchor?
While Marina was reviewing her notes, Babe was covering the lighter news. “Lulu Godiva, whose recent song, Love Me in the Afternoon, hit the top of the charts, recently revealed the story behind the tune, saying a San Francisco man inspired it.” Babe paused dramatically. “And it’s none other than our local architect to the stars, Grady Ashworth, who designed Lulu’s getaway in Napa Valley. The singer spilled the story when questioned about her dazzling engagement ring this weekend.”
Babe swung back to Marina with a smirk of satisfaction. “What do you think about that, Marina?”
As Babe delivered the coup de grace, the camera shifted back to Marina.
“Well, I don’t think Grady…could mean that…” Marina blurted out a mishmash of intelligible words,