the Beach Cottage, page 7
But finally, everything was in place. The paint didn’t smell nearly as bad as it had, the white looked perfect against the stained timber floors, the stove worked, everything was ready, and the guests were due to arrive any moment.
Bea looked around her new café, her heart fluttering. What had she gotten herself into? It was so overwhelming, although she couldn’t help being a little proud of herself for pulling it together despite the odds and in a very short time frame.
The outdoor area had the framing for vines to grow up the open walls. The plants were small now, but it wouldn’t take them long to wind their way towards the ceiling. For now, the wires were laced with twinkle lights that would light up the entire area at night. The wrought iron tables and chairs she’d pictured in her mind’s eye when she first looked at the space were dotted across the floor. Inside the café, the furnishings fitted the same coastal style theme as the outdoor area but instead of wrought iron, she’d chosen warm timber, chestnut leather, white walls and accents of blue.
“It looks amazing!” Evie stepped through the shared doorway to the bookshop, a black apron around her waist, her eyes wide. “You’ve done such a great job. It matches the bookshop perfectly and yet has its own style as well. I love it.”
“Thanks,” Bea replied. “And thank you again for agreeing to help wait tables. I still haven’t found a full staff for the café, and I’m sure I’ll be doing most of the work myself at first.”
“Not a problem at all. It takes me back to my teen years. And I love a good reminisce.” She laughed. “I’d better get back to the kitchen and make sure I have everything I need.”
The guests had begun to line up outside, so with a quick intake of breath and a glance around the café to make sure everything was in place, Bea strode to the door and flung it open with a cry of welcome.
The event got underway, and Bea found herself fully occupied with conversation, refilling drinks, making coffees and helping Evie serve the trays of food she’d prepared ahead of time. She’d made finger foods, including macarons in various colours, small lamingtons, gem scones filled with jam and cream, tiny caramel tarts and mini cupcakes with delicate sugar flowers on top.
By the time an hour had passed, the anxiety was gone, and instead she longed to sit down and put up her aching feet. She’d been on them all day preparing for the opening, and now that the adrenaline had faded, her energy was going with it. But she pushed through, smiling and chatting with everyone as people came and went. The coffee she’d ordered from Brisbane was a big hit. She’d had to try a lot of suppliers before she found the perfect blend and was happy with it. It seemed her customers agreed, with several complimenting her and telling her they’d be back daily for more.
Finally the party was over, and people ambled for the exit as the sun set over the bay. Golden light filtered through the front door as Evie swept the floor. Bea cleaned the coffee maker then went throughout the café, setting upside-down chairs on top of tables. Betsy sat at one of the tables, looking through her purse as though she’d lost something. She stood and smiled at Bea, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder. She wore a long, flowing floral print dress, and her grey hair was curled neatly around her face. Her blue eyes sparkled.
“What a wonderful party and a lovely café. I know where I’ll be coming to meet my friends for coffee from now on. That other place is so drab in comparison.”
Bea’s heart swelled. She’d been a little nervous that the island’s residents might be resistant to change and loyal to their favourite haunts. She’d envisaged an opening where only her friends showed up, but it’d been nothing like that. Half of Kellyville must’ve sifted through the café at some point that afternoon, and she’d heard nothing but positive feedback so far.
“Thank you, Betsy. It’s so lovely that you came.”
“I wanted to bring you something, but I can’t seem to locate it in the Bermuda Triangle that is my purse.” She glared at the offending bag.
“Oh, well, thank you. I’m sure you’ll locate it eventually.”
“It was your mother’s, and I can’t for the life of me recall where I left it. I had it set out to bring to you.” She shook her head in frustration.
“My mother’s?” Bea couldn’t imagine what Betsy was talking about. Her mother had died such a long time ago, and from what Betsy had told her the other day, they were only passing acquaintances. What would she have kept all these years, and why?
“Never mind. As soon as I figure out where I left it, I’ll bring it right over. I know where you’ll be.” She laughed. “I don’t know what’s worse about getting older—the forgetfulness or the joint pain.”
“I’m already forgetful, so it’s going to be a nightmare for me,” Bea said as she walked with Betsy to the door.
Betsy paused on the threshold. “Would you like to come fishing with me on Saturday morning? I’ve got a few hours to spare.”
Bea wasn’t usually the type to go fishing with people she’d only recently met. She was an introvert most of the time; it took a while for people to grow on her. But she already felt as though she knew Betsy. The woman’s warmth seeped out of every pore. And besides, she knew something about Bea’s mother — had kept an item belonging to her all these years. Plus, she was a friend of Bea’s father. There was more to Betsy than Beatrice knew, and she was curious enough to push aside her normal discomfort and take the plunge.
“I’d love to go fishing. I’m sure Dad has a pole I can borrow.”
“I’ll pick you up around five.”
“Right, five. AM or PM?”
“We can’t wait until the sun has scorched the island—the fish won’t bite then.” Betsy winked. “It’s the best time of the day. See you then!” She waved a hand over her shoulder as she grabbed the handrail and clacked on low heels down the front steps.
Bea tented a hand over her eyes and watched Betsy walk up the street towards the florist’s. She was about to step back inside the cafe when Aidan’s voice stopped her.
“Hi, Bumble Bea.” He stood behind her, hands pushed deep into his shorts’ pockets. His hair was mussed, and he wore sunglasses. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
“I was surprised you didn’t come to the opening,” Bea said.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want me there. Then on the way here, I got a flat tyre, so I suppose it was fate’s way of telling me to stay away.” He laughed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know if I believe in fate. Not anymore.”
“Really? Because you were always talking about it when we were kids.”
“I thought it was a real thing, that everyone had a destiny that they would fulfil. That you were the one for me. That we’d fall in love, get married, have a family and live happily ever after. But now I know that’s just a fairy tale. Real life isn’t like that. You make your own fate.”
He stepped towards her. “If you make your own fate, can you make it what you want it to be?”
“Of course,” she replied. “But you can’t control the decisions of others. Sometimes you have to accept that their fate isn’t aligned with yours, and that can be hard.” She wanted so badly to take his hand, to lean into his chest and reach for his lips with her own. But he’d made his choice—he didn’t want to be with her. She couldn’t control him any more than she could control the tide.
His jaw clenched, and he took another step towards her, his hands hanging by his sides. “I wish things could be different.”
“But they can’t.” She pushed herself to smile even as her lower lip wobbled. She couldn’t keep standing there looking at him, watching him step closer and closer. She was about to cry, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who burst into tears for no reason. She was the calm one. The organised one. The one who pushed through the pain and made it to the other side without so much as a grunt. She’d even managed two labours without screaming or crying. She could handle a breakup with grace. She’d certainly done it before.
“I have to finish up in here.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I really wanted to be.” He raised his hands towards her, and she saw the black grease on his palms.
“You had a flat tyre—there’s nothing you could do about it. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s Grace?”
He cocked his head to one side and squinted at her. “Um… Let’s just say teenaged girls are harder than I remembered.”
Bea burst out laughing. She covered her mouth even as her cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”
He chuckled. “It’s okay. I have to laugh myself—otherwise, I just might cry. I’ve never been a father before, and there’s a reason you get a baby first — to break you into the whole thing. She’s had a difficult time, and she seems to be taking it out on me. She’s all over the place emotionally — one minute, she’s laughing and joking with me, eating pizza. The next, she’s yelling at me, crying and running to her room to slam the door. I’m left sitting there with a half-eaten piece of pizza hanging out of my mouth, wondering what on earth just happened.”
Bea bit down on her lip to keep from smiling. Aidan was in pain, and even though the image he’d painted was a humorous one, she didn’t need to add to his distress. She beckoned him into the café.
“Come in and sit down. I’ll make you a coffee. Everything’s better with coffee.”
“Haven’t you already cleaned the machine and shut it down?” he asked, following her inside.
She waved him off. “Never mind. It’s easy enough to switch it back on again.”
Evie had returned to her bookshop to close up, so they had the place to themselves. Aidan found a seat and took it off the table to set on the floor before lowering his lanky frame into it. Bea waited for the espresso machine to reheat and ground more beans in her coffee grinder. She made them each a coffee, then carried them to the table along with two leftover caramel tarts. She hadn’t had a thing to eat all day, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation.
“These look amazing,” Aidan said as she set the plate on the table in front of him.
“I hope so. They seemed to be popular at the party.”
“I’ll bet. No one around here has had anything this flash before. The locals are thrilled — curious, too.”
She laughed. “They came through here wide-eyed, that’s for sure. But I think they left happy.”
“Good to hear. You deserve to be successful.”
She blushed. “Thank you, Aidan. That means a lot.”
“So, do you have any tips for me? After all, you’ve raised a teen girl.”
“And I’ve been one too, if you recall.”
His eyes sparkled. “I do remember that, vaguely.”
She stirred sugar into her coffee. “It sounds like she’s testing you. Will you love her only when she’s nice and good, or will you still love her even when she’s pushing you away?”
“That makes so much sense. Wow, I think you might be right about that.” He ran fingers through his hair. “So, I should let her know somehow that I still care even when she’s being difficult?”
“It’s all part of parenting. Not accepting the bad behaviour, but still making sure the child feels loved and accepted.”
“Quite the balancing act,” Aidan said as he took a sip of coffee. “Mmm… That’s good.”
“Thanks. I found it at this boutique roaster in Brissy. And yes, parenting a teen is a balancing act — like you’re a juggler and you’re on a unicycle making your way across a trapeze wire. Or something like that.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Did it,” she corrected. “Mine are grown and off living their best lives without me.”
“The thing is, she’s only got a few more years until she’s an adult as well, and I don’t want to miss a second of it.”
“I don’t blame you one bit.” If she was in his position, she’d want to spend every moment and all of her attention on getting to know her child as well.
“Thank you. You’ve been so supportive throughout this whole thing. I feel overwhelmed most of the time, but I hope you’ll still be my friend. I definitely need friends right now.”
“Of course I will. Anything you need, just ask.”
“Her mother, Kelly, is coming to visit.”
“Wow. Really?” A part of her was anxious to meet this woman. She must be someone special. She’d captured Aidan’s attention once. Would she do it again?
He nodded. “We speak regularly on the phone and have done ever since Grace first showed up. They had an argument and Grace simply ran off without saying a word about where she was going. Kelly threatened to call the police the first time I called. Then I explained to her that Grace came here without my knowledge and I would give her a place to stay until she’s ready to go home. She calmed down after that. She thought I’d somehow gotten in touch with Grace and convinced her to leave. Now, she wants to see her daughter.”
“I feel for her. She must’ve been scared to death when Grace disappeared.”
“According to Grace, her mother wasn’t there — she’d gone to Melbourne for a few days with her new boyfriend.”
“And she came home to an empty house.”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” Bea shook her head. “I hope the visit goes okay. It sounds like it could get a bit heated.”
Aidan gulped down another mouthful of coffee, then stood to his feet. “I’ve got to get going. I don’t want to leave Grace alone for too long.”
“Understandable,” Bea said, following him to the door.
“Would you come and help me manage Kelly’s visit? I think it would all go a bit smoother if you were there. You’re so good with people, and you could help me deal with it all. I’m supposed to be cooking dinner for her in a few weeks’ time. She’s staying in town and coming over for the evening.”
Bea’s head spun. She wanted to be by his side during the hard times, but wasn’t sure how her presence would improve what was likely to already be a volatile situation. Was it too much to expect of her, since they were taking time apart? She’d do the same for any one of her friends. And, if he wanted her there, she’d go. “I’m happy to come. How about I arrive early and cook dinner for you? That way, you can focus entirely on your daughter.”
He sighed with relief. “Would you? That would be lifesaving. The only thing I know how to cook for guests is fish with slices of lemon.”
As he walked away, Bea wondered why she’d signed up to help her ex-boyfriend entertain his ex-girlfriend. The tangled web was making her head spin. But he was also her friend and she cared about him and his relationship with his newly discovered daughter. If she could help ease some of his anxiety, she would. Besides, it gave her a chance to show off her culinary skills and size up Grace’s mother.
Eleven
Five a.m. on a Saturday morning was inhuman. Bea rolled over in bed and slapped haphazardly at the bedside table to get the old-fashioned alarm clock to stop beeping. She groaned and covered her face with the end of her pillow. Why had she agreed to go fishing at the crack of dawn? Most sane people would be fast asleep in their beds for hours yet. Especially people who had just started a new business in their mid-forties and had every single muscle in their body aching. Those people deserved rest. They were owed rest.
With a sigh, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and sat up, yawning immediately. If she didn’t get up now, she’d go right back to sleep and wouldn’t be ready for Betsy when she came. Still angry at herself for agreeing to do anything that involved her poor, bruised body being wakened so early on a weekend, she padded into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Instead of helping, that only made things worse. Now she was wet and aggravated.
She was dressed, but still sipping her first coffee in her travel mug when Betsy pulled up outside the cottage in her old pink panel van. Bea trudged through the yard with her father’s fishing pole over one shoulder and his tackle box in the other hand. She yanked the van door open. It screeched, and she yawned as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Good morning.” Betsy was horribly chipper.
“Yeah.” Bea waved a hand. She yawned again.
“Not a morning person?”
“Definitely not. And I’m sore all over from being in the café for three days straight. You know you’re getting old when you work on your feet all day for the first time in decades — you feel every single moment of it in your body.”
Betsy chuckled as she pushed the vehicle into gear and accelerated back up the hill. “Don’t I know it.”
“How do you do it?” Bea asked, smothering another yawn with her hand. “I feel like I need to sleep for a week.”
Betsy shrugged. “You learn to give your body the rest it needs in the best ways that you can. If I have a busy day, I make sure to go to bed at a decent time.”
Bea groaned.
Betsy only smiled as the car navigated through a bumpy patch of the track and onto the main road. “Are you ready to learn the location of my secret fishing hole?”
Bea shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose so.”
Betsy gave her side-eye. “If I show you my fishing hole, you have to keep it secret. Those are the rules. I don’t want a sudden onslaught of noisy young people descending on the place. It’s nice and quiet, and that’s the way I want it to stay.”
“Me and my friends are hardly young people,” Bea muttered.
