Page 32 of Love At The Shore
“Hurry up, Tank,” she said from somewhere down below. “Tank, please.”
Then, more desperately, “Come on, Tank.”
The poor dog. Maybe Lucas should have gone along, after all. He tossed his magazine onto a nearby table and ambled over to the porch railing. A quick glance at the patch of sand at the foot of the stairs confirmed what he suspected—Ally’s walk was a structured affair. She’d take a few steps and then order Tank to sit or lie down, neither of which was in his repertoire of dog tricks.
Ally looked exasperated. Tank looked…amused. Happier than Lucas would have guessed, albeit thoroughly confused.
Lucas laughed to himself. “Sorry, buddy. She’s a task master.”
Ally came by it honestly, though.
“Just like her mama,” he muttered.
Ally returned from her walk with Tank brimming with excitement. She talked nonstop about the dog while she sat at the kitchen table and drew fanciful pictures of Tank with her favorite magic markers. His scruffy little face now peered at Jenna from the half dozen drawings Ally had tacked to the refrigerator with beach-themed magnets. All of a sudden, the kitchen looked like a canine art gallery.
As grateful as Jenna was to Lucas for letting her daughter borrow his dog, she needed to somehow distract Ally from her Tank obsession. Drastic measures were necessary. It was probably only a matter of time before Ally began begging for a dog of her own. Again.
Only one thing could do the trick: a trip to Ally’s favorite island eatery, Ocean Burger.
Jenna piled the kids into the car and got to the popular restaurant early enough to snag a spot with a beautiful sea view. Ocean Burger was located right on the beach in a building painted bright pink with pretty lime-green and turquoise paper lanterns hanging from the rafters. From their table on the deck, they could see palm trees swaying in the breeze, the long stretch of Tybee’s white sand beach, and foamy waves tumbling onto the shore.
Plus, the burgers were outstanding. Jenna dipped one of her fries into a dollop of ketchup as Nick and Ally peppered her with questions about her manuscript.
“I don’t get it. She’s learning to sail, but only so she can get to the lost island?” Nick’s brow furrowed.
The lost island was a new idea for Jenna. It hadn’t appeared in her first book—hence Nick’s confusion. Hopefully, he’d have a better grasp of her plot once she was finished with her manuscript and he could read it. If not, she was in more trouble than she realized.
She popped the fry into her mouth. “That’s the idea. At least that’s how I’m writing the first draft.”
Ally took a sip of her lemonade, which was almost as pink as Ocean’s Burger eye-catching exterior, then giggled. “And she’s only eleven. So does that mean in two more years I can sail, too?”
Nice try. But there was no way in the world Jenna was going to let either one of her kids out on the open water alone. She wrote young adult fantasy novels—emphasis onfantasy. “It’s just fiction, sweetie. Besides, she comes from a long line of sailors. Your grandparents came from Chicago. Two very different scenarios.”
Nick’s gaze narrowed. “So how does it end?”
Jenna wished she knew. “That’s a good question.”
“I thought it was due like, really soon.” Ally looked at her like she was a kid who’d failed to do her part of a group project at school.
“Soon-ish.” She still had a few weeks. Granted, her word count was on the meager side. She had whole chapters left to write, plus a read-through of the manuscript…not to mention the ending that she still hadn’t quite figured out.
The anxious expressions on her kids’ faces weren’t helping matters.
Jenna forced a smile. “But I’m not worried, so you can’t be worried.”
Who was she kidding? She was definitely worried.
Why was she at Ocean Burger when she still had no clue how to finish her manuscript? The ending was a crucial part to any book. Some said it was themostcrucial. Nothing ruined a good story like a bad ending.
Jenna’s ending wasn’t bad, it was non-existent.
“Great.” She reached for the bill. “Should we go home?”
Jenna was suddenly more than ready to get to back to her laptop. She just hoped that whatever activity Lucas and his carefree friends had going on was somewhat quiet. Or better yet, she hoped he was enjoying a nice, solitary afternoon.
Not that she cared if he was dating Kayla or any of the other slim, tanned, child-free twenty-somethings who had flocked to his bonfire the night before…
Except she sort of did care, which was nearly as worrisome as the unfinished ending to her manuscript.
