morning runs became her sanctuary. They’d become her lifeblood.
She headed down Wishing Beach in a comfortable jog, casting a glance to the long ancient banyan tree that stood guard over the mystical shoreline. Was it really mystical? She didn’t know. She’d made wishes at Wishing Beach since she was a little girl, but who knew if a person made their own luck or if magic places like this beach poured out fate. Not her.
The place was desolate save for the occasional ocean offering that had washed up with the tide. Coconuts, seashells, and a few plastic drink bottles littered the pristine beach. She had just left Millionaire’s cove and was jogging along where the houses were still elaborate but much more modest than on her cove. Angela lifted her gaze to the gleaming white house—the fourth one down past her edge of the cove. Apprehension threaded its way up her spine, but she tamped it down. Sea spray hit her cheeks as if rising to give her a kiss. Angela tasted salt on her lips.
It’s not that the white house was particularly distressing, it was simply that she’d come this way twice, noticed the man on the back patio, waved, and been stunned by the way he’d ignored her.
Okay, so some of the full-timers disliked sharing their precious beach with the tourists, but Angela lived here. A full-timer. Besides, his behavior was just rude, and she’d purposed in her heart not to let people treat her with rudeness—like she could really control that.
As she neared, she watched him step out onto his patio and sit down. He wore dark pants, a red T-shirt, and he was barefoot. He held a cup of coffee in one hand. When Angela knew she was in his field of vision, she threw a smile and a big wave in his direction. She’d holler a greeting, but he’d never hear it from this distance over the surf. If she wanted to get his attention, she’d have to trek into his yard—something she’d never do even though they were likely the only two people staying on this stretch of beach right now. The people who owned houses on Millionaires Cove came and went frequently. Summers, winters, every single holiday. Even Senator Perry and his family. But beyond the cove where more modest houses rested, inhabitants were few except during the winter months.
Her smile faded when he didn’t so much as acknowledge her. Angela huffed and continued, her steps quickening in time with her frustration. Some people were just plain anti-social. She fought the sadness pressing down on her shoulders. She was all alone here. In so many ways. And the neighbor looked about her age. She’d fancied they might become friends. How juvenile. Angela scolded herself for her adolescent thinking.
Even though she knew she was right to leave Brice, everything else about her life felt wrong.
Angela returned to her house and noticed Jesse’s porchlight was still on. That was good. She’d hate for Jesse to have to deal with the insufferable Lorene and her continual condescension. If Angela could rescue him from Lorene, she’d redeem a bit of this awkward morning. She angled toward his cottage and knocked on the front door. No answer. She knocked again and waited. Nothing. Then she realized his Jeep was gone.
Angela entered her house through the backdoor, knocking the wet sand from her feet before she did. Lorene breezed into the kitchen. “I assume you’ve gotten rid of all of our furniture?” She looked hurt, but Angela knew for a fact that Lorene hadn’t been fond of Brice’s choices while decorating the beach house. Angela remembered her reaction vividly, because it was the only time Lorene had found fault in her nearly perfect son.
“It’s all gone. Some went to a family on Bayside who had a housefire, and the Salvation Army store downtown took the rest.” Angela went to the coffee pot. “They were happy to get the donation.”
“Well.” Lorene had a silk scarf around her throat, hiding her chicken neck. “If you insist on redecorating, I suppose I could shop with you.”
Uh. No. “Lorene,” Angela tried to sound civil. “I thought I made it clear last night that this house is no longer your concern.” Seriously, did she have to show her the divorce papers which clearly stated that the beach house was hers since Brice kept their family home?
“And allow me to make myself clear. You’re going to come to your senses, young lady. My being here will