Chapter 11
Jeanie
“Glue might stick things together, but it’s love that keeps them that way.”
—Eloisa Hobby
On her second day in paradise, Jeanie awoke with a song in her heart. It was Jack’s favorite, “Three Little Birds.” The tune had been playing in Crafters’ Corner yesterday, and it fell into her brain groove and looped the entire night.
But even so, she slept wonderfully. Better than she had in, well . . . had she ever slept so well? Jeanie didn’t think so.
“Don’t worry,” she sang as she got dressed and braided her hair in one long side braid. She chose to believe it. Maybe everything would be all right. Here’s hoping, Bob Marley.
Luna had taken the news about Jeanie being on the verge of foreclosure with grace and kindness. Most of all, she agreed to help Jeanie win the contest. With Luna on her side, how could they fail? Optimism pushed her forward.
Jeanie rubbed her palms together. They needed to get started. She dropped by Luna’s room and knocked on her door but got no answer. Maybe her daughter was already at breakfast.
She went to the kitchen where Vivian stood at the omelet station, making omelets for the guests lining up. Luna wasn’t among them.
“Do you need help?” Jeanie bustled over to the inn owner.
“Oh my, no, things are going swimmingly.” Vivian winked.
“That’s good to hear.”
Today, Vivian wore a vintage pink poodle skirt and saddle shoes as she dished up a Denver omelet for Isabelle, who was waiting patiently with her plate extended. Vivian had styled her hair in an Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany’s French twist, and she looked like an elegant bobby-soxer ready to hop to the Big Bopper.
Nostalgia washed over Jeanie for an idealized bygone era that had never really existed.
“Omelet, Jeanie?” Vivian waved a neon pink spatula.
“No, thank you. I’ll just have coffee and some of those yummy pastries. If that’s okay with you.”
“Go for it.” Vivian smiled. “You don’t need my permission. You’re on vacation and calories don’t count.”
“Have you seen my daughter this morning?” Jeanie poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the beverage cart and dribbled in a generous dollop of half-and-half.
“Luna went jogging.” Vivian cracked an egg against the counter with a deft hand. “She left about twenty minutes ago. The weather is perfect for it, but then again, the weather is always perfect on Hobby Island.” Vivian’s ebullient laughter filled the room.
Guests were seated in every chair around the dining table so Jeanie decided to take her breakfast on the cozy front porch veranda. Just as she settled into one of the rocking chairs, Luna came bounding up the driveway of the Nestled Inn in her workout clothes and running shoes, glistening with sweat.
“Whoa, Mom.” Luna clutched her chest and staggered backward. “You scared me. I didn’t see you sitting there.”
“I’m sorry to startle you, sweetheart. I suppose the sun must have blinded you as it came through the jacaranda trees.”
“Yeah. Forgot my sunglasses.” Luna dabbed the sweat from her forehead with a white hand towel she pulled from her back pocket and dropped into the rocking chair beside Jeanie.
“How was your run?”
“Fantastic. I did five miles in an hour.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It is for me.” Luna paused, then sat forward in her rocker. “You’ll never in a million years guess who lives on the island.”
“Oh?” The hairs on her arm lifted at the intense expression on her daughter’s face and an odd feeling of dread passed through her. “Who?”
Luna raised her head to meet Jeanie’s gaze. “Paul.”
Jeanie’s heart clutched the way it did whenever Luna mentioned her old boyfriend, which thankfully hadn’t been in years. “P-Paul Chance?”
“Yeah.” Luna nodded, her eyes sparkling with an effervescent light that stirred Jeanie’s worry. “Get this, he’s got a daughter a few months older than Artie and her name is Orion.”
Jeanie heard a soft gasp and realized it came from her mouth. Calm down, old lady. You’ll give yourself away. “No kidding?”
“Mom?” Luna frowned. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s unexpected, isn’t it? Running into Paul Chance after so many years, and here on Hobby Island of all places.”
“Small world, right?”
“Right,” Jeanie echoed, her throat constricting.
Luna’s entire face glowed in the morning sunlight. She looked . . . transformed. “Paul is widowed and raising Orion on his own.”
“I hate to hear that he lost his wife.” Jeanie took a sip of coffee. “And so sad for his little girl.”
“Paul and I had tacos at the tiki bar and talked until midnight, then he walked me back to the inn.” Luna locked eyes with her. “It was as if twenty-two years passed in the blink of an eye. The old feelings returned like magic.”
Jeanie gulped. “Oh my.”
“Yeah.” Luna bobbed her head. “We’re having a picnic lunch.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, that’s fast.”
“I know, I know.” Luna held up her palms, warding off Jeanie’s criticism. “But the spark is still there, Mom.”
Jeanie’s pulse pounded so loudly in her head she could barely hear Luna.
“You know what else?”
“No.”
“Paul said I needed to know the truth about that night.”
“What night?” Jeanie feigned ignorance.
“You know what night. The night of Dad’s accident. The night I broke up with Paul.”
“Huh.” Jeanie’s voice came out high and reedy, like she was trying to speak through a whistle trapped in her throat. “Wh-what did he say?”
“He said . . .” Luna drilled her with a hard stare. “To ask you what really happened.”
“Did he?”
“You have no idea what he’s talking about?”
“No, no. I remember little about that night. Except for the sheriff arresting Paul for drunk driving. I was too upset about your dad’s injuries to absorb much else. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“You remember nothing else?”
Jeanie widened her eyes, going for the innocent, doddering old woman and hoping to pull it off. “No. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“You sure?” Luna’s wary gaze raked over her.
“Do you think I’m lying to you?”
Luna shook her head and got up from the rocker. “You didn’t tell me about getting scammed.”
“That was omission, not a lie.”
Luna studied her for a long moment. “All right then. I’m off to the shower.”
Her daughter went inside the B&B, leaving Jeanie’s knees quaking. Because her three little birds had finally come home to roost.