Page 2 of A Room By the Sea

“But there’s no way you can tell that while you’re up there on the ladder,” Audrey pointed out.

“And there’s no way you can tell either because of how close you’re standing to the ladder—breathing down my neck,” Michelle retorted, letting out a half-playful, half-genuine groan of frustration.

“I’m just looking out for you, honey,” Audrey said. “Just like I’ve always done since you were a tiny girl. I don’t want you to fall off and break something, now do I?”

“Well, of course not, but you know I concentrate better without a lot of interruptions.”

Elaine, who had been leaning in the doorway watching them bicker affectionately, laughed. “Sounds like we’re all getting a bit ‘hangry.’ I know I’m starving after all that painting. Why don’t we go to The Brick Oven for some dinner?”

“Oh yes, please,” Michelle said immediately.

“I would love that,” Audrey said, and Michelle swiftly locked the curtain rod into place while her mother was momentarily distracted.

“There!” Michelle said triumphantly. “Look at that, Mom. It’s perfectly straight. Isn’t it, Grandma?”

Elaine chuckled. “It looks great to me. It’s not exactly perfect, but once we get some curtains on it, no one will ever notice.”

Michelle’s mouth popped open in dismay, but Audrey reached up to squeeze her hand, laughing.

“She’s right. You did a great job, honey. Let’s go get some pizza and celebrate the fact that we’re basically ready to put up those new curtains.”

Michelle descended the ladder, hopping the last two feet with a flourish. “You guys get pizza. I’m getting alfredo with meatballs and garlic bread smothered in mozzarella cheese.”

“Oh, we should all get garlic bread,” Elaine said. “And how about we split two pizzas and an entrée of alfredo and meatballs? Because that sounds amazing to me too, Michelle.”

“Perfect,” Michelle agreed, and Audrey nodded.

“I love this plan,” Audrey said. “Give me five minutes to put on something other than these old jeans and t-shirt, and I’ll meet you outside.”

“Same,” Elaine and Michelle echoed together.

Laughing, they ascended the staircase together, on their way to their respective closets. Elaine thought with a glow in her heart that Audrey and Michelle had brought so much possibility and joy back into her day-to-day life. In the past, if she’d wanted to go out to dinner, she would have waited until one of her friends had an evening free to go with her, or she might have ordered takeout and eaten it alone at home. She knew plenty of people who enjoyed eating out alone at restaurants, but she herself wasn’t one of them. Being able to go get food with two people she loved on the spur of the moment filled her with happiness—and being able to order multiple options together was a particularly nice bonus.

She paused at the top of the staircase to look out the landing window. Below her, the grounds of The Birchwood House were dappled with late afternoon sunlight. Elaine’s heart lifted up and danced in her chest. She couldn’t wait for their dinner that night, and she couldn’t wait for all the days that would come after it.

CHAPTER TWO

Shep Townsend trundled along the sidewalks of Coral Sands, feeling the chilly early morning breeze brush against his face. He lifted one of his large hands and ran his fingers through his messy gray hair, smoothing it back somewhat.

He liked mornings. Rising before the dawn wouldn’t have appealed to most people, but Shep needed solitude the way most people needed food and oxygen. Waking when it was still dark was enjoyable for him because the world around him was hushed and quiet. He could stroll along the sidewalks of his town without running into any jogging mothers or middle-aged men walking their dogs.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like people. He liked them well enough—often very much. But people usually expected him to speak, or get excited, or react to them in ways that he simply didn’t feel any natural inclination to do. He could listen to someone tell a thrilling, entertaining story and feel thrilled and entertained without his emotion ever showing up on his face. One of his friends had told him once that his expression after being told that his neighbor was having a baby was one of total disinterest—when in reality, he’d been delighted to hear the news.

Shep turned a corner, enjoying the sight of the rosy dawn painting the sky over the ocean. Faint stars still gleamed overhead, and the air had a tangy, wild sweetness that Shep found pleasant. He could see his bakery at the end of the street, nestled cozily under a streetlamp that was still glowing. He felt a quiet surge of happiness as he crossed the street toward his shop. There he would be able to start baking all of the goods that his bakery sold every day, along with a few special treats. That was how he liked to operate—always the same goods every day plus a few special menu items.

He paused on the sidewalk outside his shop to look around the quiet street. Although most of the buildings on this street were businesses, there were a few old homes and some above-shop apartments. It was clear from the dark windows and the silence that Coral Sands was still asleep.

Shep took a deep breath, reveling in the peacefulness. He had never been much of a people person, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the interruptions that came when the town was in full swing for the day, but he liked the feeling of being near others. Mornings were his favorite time because he could be close to his neighbors without having to interact with them.

He opened the back door of his shop, which led directly into his kitchen. He inhaled the dusty smell of flour, an aroma that he always found soothing. He turned on the lights, which were warm and cozy and which included several lamps with stained-glass shades. He never would have bothered with such a setup himself, but his wife had made it for him many years ago, and turning all the lamps on every morning was a way of honoring her memory.

He started on the batter for cake doughnuts, moving at a speed that was almost robotic in its precision. He’d been running his bakery the same way for years—every morning starting with the everyday recipes, which he now had memorized perfectly. He could whip up those recipes with incredible speed, never miscalculating a measurement or missing a step. Although his days were in theory somewhat mundane, he enjoyed his rituals. Sometimes, he had to admit to himself, he felt a little lonely, but he kept his mind occupied with his baking. He found a purpose in his secluded work, and that kept him looking forward to his days, even though they were quiet and uneventful.

He grunted as he mixed and measured, feeling an unusual twinge of loneliness. Ever since his wife had passed away, he had kept to himself, and he was okay with that.

I don’t need people to talk to, he thought. People are always disappointed with the way I treat them. It’s too much aggravation, anyway. Better to stick with the things that I know I do well, like baking.

He stuck to his baking indeed, and the next couple of hours flew by as he worked at an impressive speed. Soon he’d made bear claws, doughnuts, muffins, cookies, croissants, and miniature cherry pies.