Sunset on Moonlight Beach - Sheila Roberts Page 0,103

have to do.

The motion carried unanimously and, shortly after, the meeting adjourned.

Aaron Baumgarten, star reporter for the Beach Times, who covered the council meetings, came up to Jenna to offer his congratulations.

“If you report that I laughed, I’ll cancel my subscription,” she said.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I’m simply going to say you were overcome with joy. Off the record, I take it Edie wasn’t a dog lover.”

“Aunt Edie loved everyone and everything.”

Aaron snickered. “Jenna, you’re turning into a politician.”

“It was a nice thought and it’s the thought that counts,” Jenna insisted. And no, she was not turning into a politician. She was simply learning how to be diplomatic.

“Aunt Edie would have laughed, too,” Celeste said when Jenna called to tell her. “Oh, my gosh, I can see all the dogs marking their territory at the foot of the sign. I’ll make sure Nemo leaves a calling card.”

That made them both giggle. Then, as Jenna described how pissed Parker had looked at her inappropriate response, the giggling escalated to laughter.

“This is the first time I’ve heard you laugh since...in a long time,” Celeste amended. “Maybe you should start making a habit of it.”

“Maybe,” Jenna said, but she wasn’t making any promises.

Plans went forward for the dog park and September moved on. Tourist season began to wind down and both the town and the Driftwood Inn grew less busy. Seth still stopped by the office a couple of times a week to see if Jenna needed anything and she told herself that nothing would really change once he moved. Nothing was happening with him living in close proximity, and nothing would happen once he relocated to a place farther down the beach.

Come the end of the month, Sabrina started school at the nearby community college.

“I love my Women’s Studies professor,” she gushed as she and Jenna and Pete sat at the kitchen table, eating fried chicken and coleslaw from the deli at Beachside Grocery.

“What do women need to study that the rest of us don’t?” Pete demanded as he helped himself to a second chicken leg.

“A new view of literature, history, politics and sociology is required for us to have equal representation,” Sabrina informed him.

“You’ve been equal for years,” he scoffed.

“It’s attitudes like that that hold us back,” Sabrina retorted hotly.

“Bah,” Pete said in disgust. “They’re filling your head with all kinds of nonsense at that school.”

“No, they’re going to expand my worldview.” Sabrina turned to Jenna. “Remember Aunt Celeste’s toast at my graduation party? I think I do want to become a writer. Did you know that women’s stories don’t get the same respect as men’s even though we have a bigger share of the market?”

“You can’t make a living as a writer,” Pete said.

“Tell that to Nora Roberts,” Jenna said, jumping into the fray. “I think you’ll be a great writer,” she said to Sabrina. “What would you write about?”

“Write about sex,” Pete advised. “Sex sells.”

“Maybe I’ll write about my amazing mom,” Sabrina said.

“Now, that’s a good idea,” Pete said, surprising Jenna. She looked at him in shock, and he shrugged and said, “Why not? You can become a celebrity and then you’ll double the number of guests who want to come here.”

And stay in the sweet little vintage motel she’d brought back to life only to lose. She was dreading the day the will cleared probate.

“I’m glad we didn’t move,” Sabrina said.

At least someone was.

“Time is a great healer,” Mel reminded Jenna when she came to take her shift at the Driftwood.

Mel hadn’t wanted to accept money when they first talked about her helping out, but Jenna had insisted on putting her on the payroll. Now she was glad she had. The least Brody could do would be to pay her mother.

Jenna took one of the cookies her daughter had made off the plate on the reception desk counter. Chocolate chip, Aunt Edie’s recipe. Why didn’t they taste as good?

“I know you’re right. I wish I’d heal faster,” she said.

She still found herself lying awake at night, missing the good times she’d had with Brody, wondering where things went wrong. For a moment there, she’d thought she’d found the perfect life.

“Deep wounds take time,” Mel said. “You’ll get there.”

“I just wish I had an ETA,” Jenna said. If only life was that simple.

* * *

September leaves caught fire, died and fell, and the air took on a nip as October muscled its way into their lives, and still Jenna’s healing process dragged slowly. Other than seeing her family and