Page 9 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

“Here we go,” Ethel said, setting down china cups with saucers.

Jenna replaced the photograph. Ethel didn’t mention it. That was their unspoken rule to keep this relationship working: Don’t talk about Steve. “Thank you.”

Ethel never remembered that Jenna didn’t take sugar, but she never complained. She took a few sips, trying to gather her thoughts. Normally the talk came easily, but today Jenna didn’t know where to start. She didn’t want to talk about her mother or her failed marriage and they couldn’t talk about Steve. Not that she wanted to.

“Well, they finally put in radar,” Ethel said, landing on an utterly safe topic. Jenna smiled. She realized when she moved away that most people called it a speed trap, not radar. Must be an On Island thing. “Cops are sitting out there most days of the week, giving out tickets like candy.”

Jenna relaxed into the chair, cradling the coffee cup in her hands. “It’s about time. Have they gotten Mr. Andrews yet?”

Mr. Andrews lived a few houses down and drove an old boat of a car. He did not acknowledge driving laws. He consistently blew through the stop sign at the end of their street, barreling out onto the busier road that went out to the causeway. For years they had waited to hear the inevitable sound of a crash. So far, God—or luck—had been on his side.

“They finally put him in a home.” Ethel’s lips turned down.

This news somehow made Jenna feel deflated. “Really? I thought he’d live there forever.”

“We did too. New couple lives there now. Only one child. Redid the kitchen and added onto the back. Can you imagine? Needing more space than that with just one child?” She shook her head and made a tsk sound.

“I guess we should all just be glad he didn’t kill anyone. I was sure he’d go down in a blaze of fiery glory.”

“He’d probably prefer that to where he is now,” Ethel said. “Those greedy children of his. They just wanted to sell the house.”

“The market’s still hot I take it?”

“Oh, yes,” Ethel said. “With all these Off Islanders buying up the land, razing homes that have been here for years, and putting up their oversized homes. It’s disgusting. Our boys are always asking us when we’re moving out. They try to be coy, but I’m no dummy. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

That was awfully close to talking about Steve. Jenna’s stomach tightened. Was he really trying to push his parents out of their home? Bob had dementia, but not to a degree that he was harmful to himself or others. At least, not that she knew of. It was a lot for Ethel to deal with on her own. Maybe Steve and Jeff had their best interests in mind. Ethel sipped her coffee, looking at Jenna over the rim of the china cup.

“I just don’t know.”

“How are things with Mark? I couldn’t help but notice your ring was gone. Temporary or for good? Your mother hadn’t said anything.”

Jenna rubbed her ring finger, which still felt naked with nothing on it. “I hadn’t told her yet. It’s over. For good,” Jenna said. “And it definitely is good.”

“I’m glad. I never did like him.” Ethel slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. “Sorry.”

Jenna laughed so hard that she had to set down her coffee on the table, so it wouldn’t spill. “You could have warned me beforehand. Saved me some years.”

Ethel smiled, her lips still sporting the coral color she always wore. “Would you really have listened?”

“Nope.”

“Sometimes you just have to learn for yourself. Even if it’s the hard way.”

Though Ethel never treated Jenna differently after the breakup, she had to wonder how Steve’s mother felt about it, and about her. Moms took their kids’ sides. Always. But for years, she and Ethel sat in these same chairs and talked as though nothing had changed between them. Was it because Ethel knew it wasn’t Jenna’s choice to break up? If she had been the one to dump Steve, would things be different?

Had enough years passed that they could break the rule and talk about Steve? She did wonder how he was doing. As much as he hurt her, dumping her for the prettier, more popular, much more perfect Anna, Jenna still had a sense of nostalgia. Well, mixed in with the feeling of betrayal. That’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend. You might lose them, but you keep the first memories you had of them, before things went bad.

“So, how…are the boys?”

Ethel set down her cup and threw her hands in the air. “You know: boys. Never call, never come by. They’re busy with their families, but still. I hardly see my grandchildren. How are things over at the house?”

It took Jenna a moment to recover from the comment about grandchildren. She couldn’t imagine why Steve and his older brother Jeff wouldn’t be more involved with their parents. It seemed so cruel, though Ethel passed it off like they were just forgetful. She wanted to say something more about this, but Ethel’s subject change was clear code: Stick to the plan. Keep to the rules. No talk of Steve.

“It’s really … tough. I’m going to take one room at a time, starting with the things that matter the least. But the smallest things sometimes, they get me.”

Ethel patted her knee. “I’m so very sorry. I know I’ve said that. But I’ll keep saying it. Are you doing okay? Not with the house, but with her?”

Jenna swallowed and blinked back her tears. She couldn’t speak, a sob hitching in her throat, so she shrugged instead.

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