Page 59 of The Spotted Cottage By the Sea
Flipping through the papers, she couldn’t find the most basic information about it. She was going to make a note to ask him when she stumbled on a paper at the bottom of the bag. It must have fallen out of the divorce pile, this part of the agreement for Russell to take over partial ownership of MMFL.
Short for Marine Magic Funland.
Sheila held the paper in her hand as her blood ran cold.
Twenty-six
It was surprisingly easy to run from his problems. Russell managed to stay away for over a week, meeting up with friends and buying an endless number of things for the new house.
He couldn’t believe how much stuff he didn’t know he needed, like a smokeless fire pit and telescoping roasting forks. Carbon fishing rods. Kayaks and paddle boards to keep at the beach. An inflatable water climbing wall for the warmer months. A space-saving bed that folded up and out of the way.
He’d have to ask Mia if she was okay with the design aspect on that one, but really, all the purchases were for his kids. They were things to convince them to visit, to maybe make them so comfortable they wanted to stay a while.
Eventually, though, he had to get back to reality. His truck was packed full and, more importantly, it was opening night for the tea shop. He couldn’t miss it, even if the idea of facing Sheila filled him with shame.
She had been the bigger person and reached out first; she’d texted to let him know she’d finished his expenses and budget.
“You weren’t kidding,” she’d written. “You’re terrible with money, and at least now I know for a fact you can’t afford to buy Patty’s property.”
He’d laughed out loud when he’d read it. Not just because it was true, but because she didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. If she gave him another chance, he promised himself not to ruin their friendship, no matter how tempting it was. She was one of the few friends he’d made since the divorce, one of the few people he felt he could really trust, and that was worth everything.
He would learn to tame the feeling in his heart somehow. They probably sold something for it; he just hadn’t found it yet.
As soon as he got home, he showered, put on his best flannel shirt, and walked over to the tea shop.
He heard the commotion before he saw it – voices, laughter, and music. It was chilly but the rain had held out, and as he got over the hill, he could see the patio filled with life.
There were older people, younger people, families with little ones, the kids running through the grass and onto the beach, kicking freezing water at each other. There were high schoolers in small, self-conscious groups, the loudest of them all.
The tea shop stood tall and sturdy, the new eggshell paint magnificent against the low-hanging evening sun. They were still a half hour from sunset, but the crisscrossing lights above the patio were ready and glowing, adding a whimsical feel to the already charming scene.
Russell skirted through the crowd, pulling his baseball cap low over his eyes to avoid detection. He didn’t want to make this about him. He was here for Patty and Eliza.
And Sheila, of course.
He walked around to the front of the building and a new sign caught his eye:A Spot of Tea.
They’d taken his suggestion after all. He smiled and pulled the door open, stepping into the warm air filled with chatter and clanking of cups against saucers.
It looked like every table was full. People were standing in the lobby, sipping tea.
Eliza was at the register when she caught sight of him. “Hey!” She yelled. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” he said.
She handed off a receipt, then picked up a tray piled with plates and cups. “It is crazy here tonight.”
“Can I help you with that?” Russell asked, stepping forward.
Eliza didn’t hesitate. “Sure!” She handed him the tray. “Patty’s in the kitchen. You can just drop it off.”
“No problem.” Balancing the tray was the easy part; weaving through people’s groups was harder than expected. He managed to get to the kitchen without falling over or dropping anything, and opened the swinging door to find Patty.
Her face lit up with a smile when she saw him. “Thank goodness you’re here!” she said. “These people are insatiable! They’ve eaten every cookie I made, even the backups, and all but ten of the scones!”
“Sounds like it’s going well, then,” Russell said as he set the tray down on the counter. “Can I wash these or should I…?”
“No, no. You’re not here to wash dishes.” She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door. “I need to thank you properly for the work you had done on the cottage and the shop.”
