Sunset on Moonlight Beach - Sheila Roberts Page 0,97
of her since the memorial service. She could probably use some cheering up. I’ll call Tyrella and Patricia and Cindy.”
There, Courtney thought as she pushed End on her phone. She knew she was right.
But that evening when she and Annie and Nora and Tyrella all showed up on Jenna’s porch, she wasn’t so sure. Jenna was dressed in a long sleep tee and holding a huge bag of Hershey’s Kisses. She blinked at the sight of them and took a step back. She looked more like she was in shock than wanting to let them in.
Courtney brazened it out. “You need more chocolate,” she said, holding out her plate of brownies.
With that Jenna burst into tears.
* * *
It wasn’t the first time Jenna had made a public spectacle of herself. Only that afternoon she’d checked in an older couple and the woman, who looked a lot like Aunt Edie, had been disappointed with the room.
“You have all those pictures of the beach on your website. I thought this came with a view,” she’d complained.
“The beach is right out your back door,” Jenna had said.
“But no view.”
Jenna had been in no mood for complaints. “Then you’ll probably want to find some big, fancy motel with two stories that will give you a view,” she’d said, barely able to remain polite. “But you won’t find one with more heart than this one. My great-aunt built this place back in the sixties and we poured ourselves into fixing it up. She always baked cookies for our guests and we treated everyone who came here like they were special. And she just died and it’s not the same without her and...” She hadn’t been able to finish the sentence. She’d topped off her unprofessional behavior by blubbering like a baby.
The woman had wound up consoling her and assuring her that she and her husband would love the room. After they’d left Jenna had chided herself for her lack of control. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t rude to paying guests. She didn’t tell strangers her troubles and boo-hoo in front of them.
Except maybe this was the new her, the new, unimproved Jenna Jones who’d finally been cosmically kicked one too many times and didn’t want to get up again. Pathetic.
She’d managed to go through the rest of the day tear-free and had finally come back to the house ready to hole up with a bag of Hershey’s Kisses.
She’d just gotten comfy and now here was company on the doorstep. What the heck?
Friday night, of course. It was time for the weekly gathering her great-aunt had presided over for years. Except they hadn’t gathered since she died. Aunt Edie had left the building. Forever.
“We should leave,” Annie said.
“No, it’s okay. Come on in,” Jenna said, sniffing back a sob.
They came in and Courtney installed her on the sofa, sat next to her, and set the plate of brownies in her lap. “Somebody get this girl a glass of wine,” she commanded.
“I’m on it,” said Nora, who’d come bearing a bottle of white wine along with a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream.
Jenna watched as her friends got busy setting out plates and wineglasses. “I should go get dressed.”
“Nah. This is a come as you are party,” Courtney assured her.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
She hadn’t had the heart for entertaining, especially the Friday night group. Without Aunt Edie it didn’t seem right.
“You know your aunt would want us to keep doing this,” Courtney said as if reading her mind.
Jenna bit her lip and nodded. “It’s just that...”
She didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. She hadn’t confided her feelings to anybody other than her mother and sister.
“Too soon? Want us to go?” Now Courtney looked uncertain.
Her friends were reaching out to her, anxious to help. Jenna didn’t want to be an ingrate.
She shook her head. “No, stay.”
“I know it’s got to be hard without her,” Courtney began.
“It’s not just that. It’s...” Everything.
Nora appeared with a glass along with a small bowl of ice cream. “Wine and ice cream to go with your brownies. Now you’re set.”
“Except for my shortbread,” Annie said. “I just took it out of the oven half an hour ago. I’ll get you a piece.”
Jenna nodded and stared at the goodies her friends were piling onto her.
“Jenna, if you’re rather be alone...” Nora began.
In the house all by herself, feeling sad and pitiful. “No. I need the love.”
“There’s nothing like girlfriends for that,” Courtney said. “Well, and boyfriends.”