Page 7 of A Beach House Beginning

“Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you! Brie will be so excited when I tell her. The alternative was staying with my friend Shandy and she has that five-year-old who can be a real pistol. Brielle will much prefer staying with her dad.”

He could only hope he was up to the task. “When do you leave?” Wes asked.

“Next Friday. The last day of school.”

It would have been easier if she were leaving during the school year, when he would only need to arrange after-school care until his shift was over, but he would figure things out.

He couldn’t say no. He had moved to Cannon Beach, following Lacey and her new family, in order to nurture his relationship with Brielle. He couldn’t miss what seemed to be a glorious opportunity to be with her.

“No problem. We’ll have a great time.”

“You’re the best. Seriously. Thanks, Wes.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, and as her mouth brushed his cheek, Wes couldn’t help wishing that things could have worked out differently between them.

He couldn’t honestly say he regretted the end of a marriage that had been troubled from the beginning. He did regret that the decisions made by the adults in Brielle’s life complicated things for her, forcing her to now split her time between them.

“You do remember that today is Guest Lunch at the school, right? Brie said you were planning to go. If you’re not, I’m sure Ron could swing by on his lunch break.”

He really tried not to feel competitive with his daughter’s stepfather, who seemed overall like a good guy, if a little on the superficial side.

“I’ll be there,” he answered, hoping the day wouldn’t be inordinately busy at the shop.

The Gutierrez brothers were great to work with, but an employer could only be so understanding.

As he watched his ex-wife drive away, the second time he had been caught in the wake of a woman’s taillights that morning, he was reminded of Jenna Haynes and her car trouble.

If he were swinging by the school anyway for lunch, he might as well take a car battery with him and fix Jenna Haynes’s car. It was an easy ten-minute job, and that way she wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of it not starting after school.

He told himself the little burst of excitement was only the anticipation of doing a nice, neighborly deed. It had nothing to do with the knowledge that he would inevitably see Jenna again.

Chapter Two

“Stay in line, class. Remember, hands to yourself.”

Jenna did her best to steer her class of twenty-three third-grade students—including three with special learning needs and Individualized Education Programs—into the lunchroom with a minimum of distractions.

The day that had started out with such stunning news from Angela had quickly spiraled. Her dead battery had only been the beginning.

As soon as she reached the school, she discovered both of her paraprofessionals, who helped with reading and math, as well as giving extra attention to those who struggled most, had called in for personal leave. One was pregnant and had bad morning sickness and the other one had to travel out of town at the last minute to be with a dying relative.

Jenna completely understood they both had excellent reasons to be gone. Unfortunately, that left her to handle the entire class by herself, and her third-grade students were so jacked up over the approaching summer vacation—or maybe from the sugar in her cupcakes—that none of them seemed able to focus.

One more week, she told herself. One more week and then she would have the entire summer to herself.

The previous summer, she had taken classes all summer to finish her master’s degree, as well as working nearly full-time at Rosa’s gift shop, By-the-Wind.

She didn’t feel as if she had enjoyed any summer vacation at all.

She wasn’t going to make that mistake again this year. Though she still had two more classes to go before earning her master’s degree, she had decided to hold off until after the summer, and she had told Rosa she couldn’t work as many hours at the gift shop.

Addie was growing up and Jenna wanted to spend as much time as possible with her daughter while Addie still seemed to like being with her.

“Don’t want spaghetti.” The sudden strident shout from one of her students, Cody Andrews, drew looks from several students in the cafeteria. Some of the adult guests having lunch with their students also gave the boy the side-eye.

Jenna felt immediately on the defensive. Cody, who had been diagnosed with autism, was an eager, funny, bright student, but sometimes crowds could set him off and trigger negative behaviors.

He had seemed to have a particularly difficult morning, maybe because Monica, the aide he loved dearly, wasn’t there.

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