Page 56 of The House on Firefly Beach
She smiled. “Even there, it’ll be full of tourists this time of year.” She really should’ve thought this through a little better, but her mind had been on Nate instead of planning a great spot. Her tummy growled.
“Was that your stomach? You’re hungry,” he said.
“A little,” she replied, trying not to let on that she was absolutely starving.
“I’m not trying to be creepy, but my place is just a couple minutes’ drive. I could make you lunch. And Idohave coffee.”
Sydney had to be back at work in an hour. And going to Logan’s house was a little more involved than grabbing a cup of coffee with him. She froze with indecision.
“Did I mention that I’m Ben’s sound designer? I have a summer house here that’s been in our family for years. It’s on the beach in the next village.” He held up his hands. “I promise I’m not a crazy person or anything. In fact, my mother is visiting at the moment, so she’ll be there too.”
It sounded better by the second.
Logan pulled to a stop in front of a cedar-shingled bungalow that sat on stilts in the powdery white sand. It had a modest but elegant front porch with two rocking chairs on either side of a bright orange front door displaying a wreath made of seashells and starfish.
“When you were getting in the car at the coffee shop, I texted my mom to tell her we were coming,” he said as they got out and headed up the steps of the cottage. “Fingers crossed she’s dishing us up her famous chicken salad.”
Logan slipped his key into the lock and let Sydney inside. The small space was open and airy, decorated in the classic beach style: lots of white and nautical blue. She eyed the small wicker bench in the entryway and ran her fingers over the navy blue and white striped pillows propped up on it. Like a smaller version of Starlight Cottage, the kitchen was along the back, and a wall of windows afforded a view of the stretch of white sand, dotted with dark blue umbrellas, which didn’t disappoint.
“Oh my stars! Logan found a friend,” teased a smartly dressed woman with a gray bob of hair and a friendly smile as she greeted them. The woman swished forward in her flowing linen trousers and loosely belted shirt. Her delicate jade bracelets jingled on her wrist as she held out her hand to introduce herself. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Delilah Hayes, Logan’s mother.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sydney said, already enjoying the lift she felt being with someone who had no ties to her past. Like Nate’s suggestion to live in the present moment—it certainly was a comfortable place to be. Even Sydney’s ex-husband had grown up with her, and there was always the element of shared experiences that could be a blessing but at times, also a curse. Whether this meeting between herself and Logan went anywhere from today was yet to be seen, but this was a clean slate from which to build.
“Logan never brings girls to the house,” Delilah said, beckoning them into the kitchen where she had plates made already with croissant sandwiches and fresh pineapple garnish.
“Maybe it’s because I never had your chicken salad to offer them,” he said with a wink.
“Yes,” Sydney said, playing along. “I was actually just walking by, minding my own business, when Logan came up to me and offered me chicken salad. I completely changed my plans.”
Delilah laughed and patted his shoulder, handing him a plate.
“Mom, are you hungry? You should join us,” Logan offered.
“Yes, please do,” Sydney replied.
“I’d hate to intrude,” Delilah said, wiping the crumbs from the counter with a dishrag.
Logan silently consulted Sydney and she offered her consent. It would be nice to have someone else to take some of the pressure off.
“Nonsense,” Logan said. “We’re just having lunch.”
Delilah whipped up another sandwich and sat down with the two of them at the small farmhouse-style distressed wood table. She scooted a bowl of lemons to the side so they could all talk. “How do you two know each other?” she asked.
“Sydney was at Ben’s wedding,” Logan told her.
“Ah, Ben. I adore him.” Delilah handed Sydney a paper napkin, still getting settled but not wasting a minute of conversation time. It reminded Sydney of Aunt Clara. She used to be just like that, talking and genuinely listening as she puttered around the house. “Life is too short not to have conversation. We’re built to be with one another, not alone,” she said once.
“I’m Ben’s new sister-in-law,” Sydney explained. “But I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Oh!” Her eyebrows rose in interest. “So that makes you one of Hank and Clara Eubanks’s nieces?”
“Yes,” Sydney said.
“How lovely. I never knew them, but I’ve heard what wonderful people they are. I know how much Clara has done for the community of Firefly Beach. And I’ve also seen Starlight Cottage in all the magazines—it’s incredible! Your Aunt Clara was so talented.”
“Yes, she was.”
“I’d heard they’re planning to put in that public beach access right beside the cottage. How does your family feel about that?”
