Page 82 of Sunsets at the Beach House

Kat laughed to herself. Was there a man who wasn’t motivated by food? She headed upstairs to her room.

She hesitated at the door. The last time she’d been here, she’d caught Ray cheating on her. She stared at the bed. The sheets were still in disarray.

Those could get burned for all she cared. She’d never sleep on them again. She stepped into the room, telling herself she did not smell Ray’s cologne, except that she did. Despite the warm day, she opened the window to let some fresh air in.

She opened her closet doors next. Time for an honest assessment of what was in there. She started going through it, piece by piece. It really wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. In the brief time she’d been away, she’d changed a lot.

So much of what was in here was firmly entrenched in the old Kat. The woman who’d been fine with good enough. The woman who’d been settling because she didn’t believe in herself enough to want more. Or think she could achieve more.

That Kat was gone. There was no point in keeping her boring clothing.

By the time Cash came up with a wardrobe box, Kat had sorted out what she was going to keep and what would be left behind to be donated.

He hauled the tall box in, and she started to fill it. “What furniture in here are you keeping?”

She looked around. “Just that desk. I need to empty it out, though.”

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “The stuff at the beach house is nicer. Why should I take any of this with me? Might as well let the veterans charity have it. Besides,” she said. “There are some less than stellar memories here now.”

“Yeah,” he said with a solemn nod. “I know.”

He’d been with her when she’d caught Ray in her bed with one of his nurses. “I know you do. So you can see why I’m not eager to bring any of that to Diamond Beach.”

“Totally. What about your books and stuff? If you’re taking them, you might want one of these bookcases.”

She stepped back to look at it and reassess. “It could go right next to the desk. Probably not a bad idea.”

“I’ll bring you some more boxes up.” He started out the door, then stopped. “By the way, one of the guys downstairs could probably use some money for helping out. If you have any. I heard him say one of the reasons he’s here is because he’s out of work.”

“Oh, no, really?” She thought about what was in her wallet. “I don’t think I have more than fifty bucks on me. Do you have any money I can borrow?”

“I’ve got a twenty, which was going to buy my lunch.”

“We can put that on a credit card.” Kat thought a little harder. “I wonder if he could use any of our stuff for his family. Furniture, clothes, whatever. I’d just as soon let him have first pick, since it’s all going to be donated anyway.”

“You should ask him. Guy with the red hat.”

“How about you send him up with the next load of boxes?”

Cash smiled. “I can do that.”

“Thanks.” Kat knew not everything was hers to give away, but she didn’t think her mom would mind. “Wait. Maybe I should talk to my mom first. See what she thinks. I’ll come down with you.”

She followed him to the first floor where her mom was in the dining room, sorting through the things that were stored in the antique buffet. That piece was a keeper, having been Kat’s great-grandmother’s. “Hey, can I talk to you a sec?”

“Sure, honey. What’s up?”

Kat took her mom aside. “The guy in the red hat. Who is he? I can’t remember his name.”

“Paul Massey.”

Kat remembered him now. He had two kids in high school and his wife worked at the pharmacy. “Okay, right. Did you know he just lost his job? That’s why he could be here today.”

“That’s awful,” Claire said.

“It is, but I was thinking maybe we could see if there’s anything he needs. Furniture, household stuff, clothing.” Kat shrugged. “We could give him some money, too. Up to you, but I’m happy to pass on anything we aren’t keeping. Whatever’s left over can go to the veterans charity.”

---