Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Ivy
After the locksmith leaves and I’ve wrestled our overnight bags from the over-packed car, I’m convinced moving to Starlight Bay is the worst mistake of my life.
I jam the car door shut with my hip, mutter a word Olivia absolutely better not repeat, and try calling the power company again.
I press “ one ” for English. “ Three ” to report an outage. “ Two ” for residential services. “ Nine ” for the sweet release of death. It’s all a loop. No humans. Just an eerily calm robot promising restoration within twenty-four to forty-eight hours .
“My phone’s dying,” I mutter, holding it up like it’s an antenna.
Olivia hums beside me, obliviously swinging her stuffed flamingo like it’s thrilled about this new adventure. I, on the other hand, am seconds from spiraling into full-on panic. No lights, no way to charge my phone, and no hot shower.
I weigh my options. I could fumble around in the dark, or…
I sigh. “C’mon, Liv. We’re going next door.”
She perks up. “Another adventure?”
Life has been full of them lately, but my kiddo is the best in the world, content to roll with the punches. The gratitude and love I have for my daughter more than makes up for all the hard times of raising her on my own.
The only blessing in this fraught situation is that the rain finally stopped. As we trek across the street and up a long, winding drive to Owen’s, I take a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty of our surroundings.
My new house might be a money pit, but the view of the bay is absolutely breathtaking. This is what sold me on the house. The endless view of sky and sea stretching out for as far as I can see.
Owen’s house is perfectly charming. It’s tucked back from the road behind tall evergreens and flowering shrubs. The shingles look brand new, and the wide front porch is freshly painted. A golden light glows from the large windows, and a peek inside shows a gorgeous interior worthy of a movie set.
My nerves choke my throat, but the thought of spending the night in the dark makes me brave enough to face the worst.
I knock on the front door and wait. After a moment, I’m forced to knock louder. Still no answer.
“Fuck it all,” Olivia swears under her breath.
My head whips around like a possessed woman. “What did you just say?”
She shrugs. “You said it on the drive.”
I make a mental note to work on my muttering volume. “You know that’s not a nice thing to say.”
Her lower lip trembles. “But you said it.”
“I know…” I’m searching for a way to justify my right to cuss when the door swings open.
Owen stands there with a frustrated scowl on his face, looking gorgeous in a pair of tortoiseshell glasses and an apron that reads: I FLIP FOR PANCAKES.
“Hi,” I say, a little breathless over what those glasses have done to my nervous system.
He lifts a brow. “Everything okay?”
Olivia peeks out from behind me. “Sorry to bother you, but our power’s out and my mom has no clue what she’s doing.”
His gaze flicks from Olivia to me, and it’s obvious he’s trying not to smile. “Is that so?”
A godawful sound erupts from somewhere behind him, and everyone flinches.
“Sorry,” Owen mutters, grimacing.
It sounds like a piano is being murdered. There’s a final dissonant clang, then a wail echoes through the house as a small girl darts up the stairs.
“Hannah!” Owen drops the spatula as he turns to face the stairs. “Sorry, I’ll be right back. Please come in.”
He disappears down the hall, leaving Olivia and I bereft in the foyer.
Olivia clutches my hand tighter, eyes wide. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I’m not sure, but what choice do I have?
“At least they have power. And something smells delicious.”
Inside, the house is even more beautiful than it looked from the outside. It’s a study in casual, coastal charm. The setting sun spills across wide-planked wood floors, and the walls are painted in a soft, welcoming blue.
The smell of Italian spices makes me aware of my empty belly.
A moment later, Owen returns with an apologetic smile. “Be right back. I have to check on Hannah.”
After he sprints up the stairs, Olivia and I drift into the living room, where the view blows us both away.
“Wow,” Olivia says.
My heart stops as I stare out the huge windows framing the bay like a living painting. The sun is just beginning to slip beneath the horizon, and the golden glow splashes across the rippling water.
A lone sailboat drifts lazily across the bay, its white sail gleaming against the vibrant sky.
I step closer, drawn to the glass, and press a hand lightly to the cool pane.
For one small moment, I forget about the boxes, the darkness, and the pit in my stomach that’s been growing since I decided to move us again.
All I can think is that maybe we’ve just landed somewhere special. Somewhere we’re meant to stay.
“Something’s burning,” Olivia says suddenly, breaking my trance.
Sure enough—smoke curls out from the kitchen doorway like a red flag.
We rush into the kitchen, where despite the smoke, the decor is fresh out of a magazine.
Double ovens. Giant marble island. Top-of-the-line everything. It’s like Julia Child and Ina Garten had a baby and it grew up to be this kitchen.
I dart to the stove, turn the burner down, and give the bubbling sauce a stir. It smells so delicious; I have to take a bite.
Holy mother of marinara. It’s good.
Footsteps sound, and Owen reappears. His hair is mussed like he’s been running his hands through it, and his eyes are wide. He fans his hand in the air to thin the smoke.
“You saved dinner?”
I lift a shoulder. “I can’t let a good sauce burn on my watch.”
Before he can reply, a miniature, female version of Owen wanders in. Her eyes are red rimmed, and she clutches a giant stuffed animal.
“Is that a Calvary Cat?” Olivia asks.
The little girl nods and hugs it tighter. “Do you have one?”
The girls dissolve into chatter like they’ve known each other forever.
I look over their heads at Owen, who is watching carefully. His gaze lifts to mine, and he gives me a small smile. We have a moment of bonding over our impossibly adorable little girls before I remember my dilemma.
“I just came for a flashlight. Our power’s out. My phone’s almost dead, and I wasn’t prepared for, well… any of this.”
He nods. “I’ve got an emergency pack in the garage. One sec.”
As he heads out again, Olivia tugs my hand. “Mom, I’m starving .”
I wince. “We’ll order something. Anything you want.”
From the garage: “Yeah… about that.”
I blink. “About what?”
“There’s no delivery out here. Not this time of year.”
Olivia gasps like he’s just told her Christmas is canceled.
“Dad makes the best spaghetti,” Hannah says brightly. “You should stay.”
Owen reappears, arms full of emergency gear and a look on his face that says he’s not thrilled with the idea but is too polite to say so.
I glance at Olivia, whose smile is wider than I’ve seen it in days.
And I say the only thing I possibly can.
“We’d love to.”