Page 52 of The Beach Cottage
The next day dawned with a growl and a hiss. Rain spat against the cottage windows, and the sun barely rose, hidden behind a swathe of dark clouds. Bea slept late and called in to the café to let them know she wouldn’t be in. She had a sore throat and a headache, and they weren’t expecting many customers. She knew the casual staff could manage without her, and all she wanted to do was to stay in bed and hide under the covers.
She missed her kids. She missed Aidan. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get through this slump. He wasn’t returning her calls. She’d seen him driving his truck in the distance one time since he’d rushed away from the café the day Preston visited. All she wanted to do was to see him face-to-face and tell him she was finally divorced and ready to move on, but he wouldn’t give her the chance. And she had to believe, finally, that it was because he didn’t want to take their relationship to the next level. She should let go of the dream that she’d harboured in her heart of them reconciling after all these years and sailing into the blissful sunset of life together hand in hand.
Feeling eminently sorry for herself, she trudged up the hill in her rain gear and knocked on her father’s door. He opened it and she stepped inside, then hung up her dripping raincoat and shucked off her boots.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Wow, things must be bad,” he quipped, his eyes sparkling.
“How can you tell?”
“You sound like they just reported a devastating meteor is headed to earth,” he replied.
She grunted her approval at that, but couldn’t muster up a laugh. Then she headed to the kitchen. “Do you have tea?”
He followed her. “Every kind you might want.”
“That blue flowery stuff will do. With some honey. My throat is killing me.”
“Are you saying you brought the plague into my home?” he asked with one eyebrow raised, opening the cupboard to pull out a tin of tea and setting it on the bench. “Why would you do that?”
“Sorry, Dad. I’m sure you’ll be fine. I need honey, though. Have you got any of that organic stuff?”
He chuckled. “Go sit in the living room by the fire. I’ll bring your tea.”
Bea shuffled to the living room, picked up a blanket from the couch and slung it around her shoulders before sitting, hunchbacked, by the fire roaring in the hearth. She wasn’t sure why her father had lit a fire on a tropical island, but she wasn’t about to question his wisdom. It was exactly what she needed. Her heartbreak was reflected in the storm raging outside.
Finally, Dad brought a pot of tea and set it on the table beside her. He poured two cups, swirled in some honey, then sat across from her.
“You doing okay, sweetie?”
She grunted and scowled. “Depends what you consider okay.”
“Fine, I’ll start with something easier. How’s the throat?”
“The honey and tea are helping.”
“Good,” he replied, taking a sip of his own.
“Have you heard anything else from the doctor?” she asked as she held a hand up to her throat. Did she have a fever? It certainly felt like it — her entire body ached from top to toe.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I went to the mainland to see him yesterday.”
She sat up straight. “No, I didn’t realise. I would’ve taken you, Dad. You should’ve told me.”
“It was fine—Aidan took me. We arranged it last week.”
Her mouth fell open. Aidan took him? Why? How? So many questions, but she could only gape.
Dad sipped his tea again. “Yeah, we were talking last week when he came over to help me fix my lawnmower.”
“He did what?”
“It wasn’t working, and I know he’s good with engines. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be. So I gave him a call, and he came right over. We chatted for a while about my health, and when I mentioned the appointment, he said he had to go to town anyway and why didn’t he give me a lift as well? So, I agreed. He said he would stop by the café and let you know. Didn’t he?”
Bea slapped a palm to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. That was why he came to see her. And then when Preston was there, embracing her, he must’ve been confused. He should’ve spoken to her instead of running away. She could’ve explained everything.
“He did stop by,” she said. “But we didn’t have a chance to speak.”
