Page 27 of Not Another Beach Read
"Right?" Jenna said, taking her own bite. "And you helped make these. How does that feel?"
I considered the question, looking down at the half-eaten croissant in my hand. I'd helped create this perfect thing—this delicious, beautiful, complicated thing that required patience and precision and care.
"It feels good," I said simply. "Really good."
And it did. Not just because the croissant was delicious, but because for once in my life, I'd been a part of something beautiful instead of something broken.
"Well, get used to it," Jenna said, brushing crumbs from her apron. "Because tomorrow we're making chocolate ones."
As we prepared the rest of the croissants for the display caseup front, I found myself already looking forward to the next day. To learning more, to creating more, to feeling that sense of accomplishment again.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn't dreading what came next. I was excited for it.
13
ELYSE
Two days later, when I got home from work, I found Holly in bed with the curtains drawn, scrolling on her phone. It instantly wrenched my heart. I knew she must really be struggling with what was going on with her mom, and even though it had been a good portion of her life that my sister was in active addiction, I was sure the worry and the sadness didn't get any easier.
"You want to hang out?" I asked her as I knocked on her open door.
She tossed the phone on the bed next to her. She looked relieved.
"Sure. What did you have in mind?" she asked.
"I was thinking we could go to the beach and get some ice cream," I replied. "Maybe watch a couple volleyball games. How does that sound?"
"Sounds great, actually."
I let Eden out, and ten minutes later, we were rolling back down the driveway.
After finding a parking spot at Clearwater Beach, our first stop was the ice cream stand.
"Pink bubblegum in a waffle cone, please," I said when it was our turn.
"Vanilla in a waffle cone," said Holly.
"They have a lot of other flavors if you want to try something different," I offered.
Her eyes slid to the employee behind the counter, then back at me. A smile brightened her face. "Oh no. Life has already thrown a rocky road at me. What I like about vanilla ice cream is that you can always depend on it to be the same no matter where you get it."
Ice cream philosophy courtesy of my niece. It made perfect sense when I stopped to think about it.
"Vanilla ice cream in a waffle cone it is," I said.
After paying and collecting our cones, we ambled down the beach toward Frenchy's, where we could see and hear a few games happening on the sand courts outside their front door.
"Have you ever played volleyball?" I asked her.
"Just with my friends during gym class," she replied. "What about you?"
"I played in high school and only once in a while since then, but you can usually count on a lively game or two here. It's a great way to unwind after a long day. How was your day, by the way?" I asked, looking over at her.
Holly was silent for a moment. Longer than I expected, but I was patient while she considered her words.
"I'm looking forward to going to work with Jenna more often. It's hard not having anything to do during the day. When I'm at grandma and grandpa's, I'm usually babysitting some of the neighbors' grandkids, so it keeps me busy."
"Well, that's a thought," I said, picking up a rogue ball and tossing it to the person waiting to serve. "Sarah's two little kids are really good. She's often looking for a babysitter for them for book club or date night. Or even Allison's son, Noah. Is that something you would be interested in?"
