Sunset on Moonlight Beach - Sheila Roberts Page 0,117
pretty female-centric, she had to admit. And he’d finished his sandwich and eaten half the candy in the box he’d given her.
“Thanks for the chocolate,” she called after him as he left the room.
She opened Seth’s box, dug out a chocolate caramel and popped it in her mouth. Aaah, lovely. Candy, a movie—what else could a woman want?
Oh, ha ha.
But by the end of the movie Jenna was feeling a little less depressed. Maybe even hopeful. Like the heroine of that cinematic tale, she, too, could find a good life. Who knew? Maybe someday some handsome stranger might come to town looking for a room and...
He wouldn’t be Brody. He wouldn’t be Seth.
She dug out a dark chocolate brittle. There was more to life than men. Who needed ’em?
She scowled at the box and shoved it to the far side of the couch.
Happy Valentine’s Day. Bah, humbug.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Spring finally arrived, bringing daffodils and tulips for the deer to eat. Tyrella was complaining once more about the deer when the Friday night bunch gathered in Jenna’s living room.
“I wish the city council had shipped them all back to the forest,” she said.
“We didn’t and they’re here to stay so you may as well get used to them,” Jenna said.
She was getting heartily sick of how ungrateful the Moonlight Harbor citizenry were. People showed up at meetings or stopped council members in the store to complain, but nobody ever thanked them for their hard work.
No one had thanked her when she finally climbed out of the black hole she’d fallen into to pull together her research on the benefits of a convention center. She’d had plenty of plusses to point out in her presentation to the council. A convention center would attract conventioneers, trade shows and more tourists. They could host events in all kinds of weather if they had a large covered area. There was the good news. Her fellow council members had zeroed in on the not so good news—centers could run up to twenty-five million dollars.
“But we wouldn’t spend that much,” she’d argued. “We’re talking about a much smaller scale than a city like Seattle.”
The time hadn’t been right and Parker had tabled the idea. Afterward Jenna had gotten an earful from one of the longtime residents, a self-proclaimed watchdog who had no desire to see the town grow. Convention center, indeed. They didn’t need the town overrun with outsiders all year round. What had Jenna been thinking?
And now here was Tyrella, complaining again about the deer when that problem had already been addressed. “The deer bring in tourists and the tourists keep our local economy humming,” Jenna said. Okay, maybe not in her sweetest voice. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a public servant.
“You’re right,” Tyrella said, holding up a staying hand. “My big bad.”
“Sorry I got snippy,” Jenna said. “I think I’m going through a bitchy phase.” Hmm. It seemed like that phase had been lasting for some time. When did a phase stop becoming a phase and turn into the new you?
“You’re allowed,” Tyrella assured her.
Jenna smiled gratefully at her. “Thanks. Anyway, the way things are heating up with your new man, you may not even be here that much longer.”
“New man? This is news,” said Cindy Redmond. “Do tell.”
They didn’t have to twist Tyrella’s arm. She was happy to rhapsodize over Darrell. “He’s never been married. Can you believe it?”
“What is he, a monk?” Courtney asked.
“Just been busy in the Lord’s service. He is eight years younger than me though,” Tyrella said.
“There’s nothing wrong with being with a younger man. Just ask my mom,” said Jenna.
“Anyway, you look like you’re thirty,” Nora added. “That gorgeous skin—not a wrinkle anywhere.”
“I’m jealous,” said Cindy. “My Irish skin is a wrinkle magnet. It’s trying to age me overnight.”
“Age is just a number,” Jenna told her. “That’s what Aunt Edie would say.”
Aunt Edie would have been so excited to see how her mother’s romance with Ellis had bloomed. Their wedding date was right around the corner.
Courtney was busy making wedding plans, too.
“Have you set a date?” Patricia asked her.
“Weekend after the Fourth. We’re getting married on the fire truck.”
“I love that idea,” Patricia said. “And I assume you’re designing your wedding dress.”
“I am. It’s going to be red, and instead of a veil I’m wearing a fire hat.”
“You are going to be too cute,” Tyrella gushed.
“We decided to have the reception at Good Times and we’re doing sundaes.”
“Way to support local business,” Nora said with a smile.