Page 12 of Beached Wedding

The bellman tagged the reader in the elevator and pressed the floor number for me. I nodded my thanks, then let out a breath as the doors closed.

Shane’s parents, Eddie and Sandy, had always been good to me. Coming from divorce, I was kind of fascinated by their lifelong devotion to each other, especially because they’d been through a lot over the years. I always wondering what their secret was and Ihatedthat I was going to upset them when they were expecting a happy event.

I knocked, only realizing then that they might be at the pool.

Sandy opened the door with a wide smile that faltered as she saw it was me, not the son she was expecting.

“G’day, Fox. Shane isn’t with you?” The permanent crinkle of maternal concern in her brow deepened. “He hasn’t answered any of my texts.” She backed up to let me into a room with a king bed, a desk and a chair.

The door was open to the balcony where Eddie was rising from his seat there.

“Shane’s totally fine,” I assured them. “But no, he’s not here.”

“I told her he’d want to see his girl.” Eddie’s body was stooped from a lifetime as a brickie. He kept hold of his beer and spoke through the open door. “Sandy wanted him to be able to find us when he arrived, but see? He’s with Ashley. We can go down to the pool and Shane can catch up to us when he’s ready. Beer?” he offered me.

“No. Thank you. But I will come in for a minute, if you don’t mind.” I waved for Sandy to precede me out to the small balcony. “Shane is fine,” I repeated firmly, meeting Sandy’s anxious blue gaze. “Not hurt or anything, but he isn’t here. He decided not to come.”

Sandy touched the gold pendant of a fingerprint that she always wore. “Do you mean he was delayed? Or…?”

“The wedding is off.”

“Ah, shit.” Eddie lowered back into his chair and took a pull off his beer.

“Oh, Ashley,” Sandy said on a pained sigh. “Oh, dear.”

“Yeah.” I drew a deep breath and braced myself to confess the rest.

ASHLEY

My mom, sister, and niece were all staying in a villa rented by Whitney’s new boyfriend, Oliver, who had brought his son, Ryan.

I wasn’t sure what to make of them. Ryan was four, fairly well-behaved and actually pretty cute, but Oliver came off as a bit of a saint—which made me suspicious. Whitney had become more discerning as she closed in on thirty, but from the time she’d turned up pregnant in high school, she always seemed to have a man of some kind hanging around and they weren’t always top shelf.

Whether that made my older sister a blind romantic or a codependent, I wasn’t sure, but I had returned from three months in Australia to discover a stranger had a key to our apartment. I hadn’t cared how nice Oliverseemed. Especially because he’d leaped on the wedding in Hawaii idea almost as fast as Whitney had, insisting on reserving a villa and paying for it. Granted he owned a plumbing company and seemed to be doing well, but he had an ex-wife and paid her support. Where did all his money come from?

According to Whitney, his divorced had been very civilized. No one yelled. Teachers never reported anyone to the authorities and the police had never come to his door.

Even so, who signed up for a week of living with his girlfriend’s mother after only a few months of dating? Oliver’s claim that it was ‘a great chance for everyone to get to know each other better’ sounded shifty. I wanted to know what hereallywanted.

My mom, Joanna, had gone along with the villa proposal because it meant she would have a full kitchen. “We’ll barely afford groceries at those prices,” she had declared after reading reviews online. “InAmericandollars,” she stressed. “We arenoteating out.”

So we had crammed ourselves into this villa yesterday evening after twenty hours of travel and a stop at the market for a week’s worth of food.

Fliss, who was twelve going on forty, let me in. She had gone through a growth spurt while I’d been in Australia. She was almost as tall as me now, stick-thin with subtle curves. Whitney had said she could start wearing make-up, but Fliss wasn’t in the hurry to grow up that Whit had been.

Fliss kept her ash-blond hair in a careless clip and preferred shapeless hoodies rather than tight jeans or dresses. She was academic and introverted and sarcastic. I adored her to pieces, but she was giving me the cold shoulder. Disappearing to Australia for an extended holiday was one thing. Moving there was a betrayal of our bond. She would probably take the news that the wedding was off better than anyone.

I could stand my niece being pleased by my misfortune. The smug ‘You should have known better’ from Mom was going to kill me. Quitting a good job and booking a three-month trip to a foreign country last year had been reckless and pointless. Marrying a man I barely knew? One who ran a surf shack—herwords—and didn’t have a trade or profession? One who lived in a money pit of a beach house and disappeared up the coast with his boys’ club at a moment’s notice? Nothing good could come of this.

And nothing will, Mom. You were right all along.

Fliss poked her head out the door after I came in, hesitating to close it.

“Isn’t Shane with you?” Her eyes widened as she realized I’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” I moved further into the two-bedroom bungalow and smiled weakly at Ryan on the sofa. He held a game controller. “Are you two here by yourself?” There was no one in the kitchen and both bedroom doors stood open.

Ryan pointed his elbow toward the door to the patio. “They’re outside. Can we keep playing?” he asked Fliss.

---