The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set Read online

  This time it was Julia who stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced up at the clock and mentally counted to three before she looked her son in the eye.

  “You’re right. It’s not fair. But I provide the soap to get my name out, in order to bring in more business. I hear you, though, Gabe: You need clothes, and I wish I could afford them for you. I’m sorry that I put so much energy into the store and you feel that it takes away from you. But . . .” She stopped when Gabe shook his head and walked away.

  He paused, however, by the front door, where she had a small table where she’d left the mail from last night.

  “Gabe.” She didn’t want to fight with him. Didn’t want him to get worked up and angry. Didn’t want them to start the day like this.

  “Yeah?” He didn’t turn around, but the way he carried himself, the straight back, tight shoulders, told her he was upset.

  “I love you; you know that, right?”

  He grunted as he went through the papers on the table. He picked one up and held it out. “What’s this?”

  Julia recognized the flyer and wished she’d thrown it out.

  “The public school is holding a clothing drive, and a few of the local families are invited to—”

  “Sort through the castoffs and pick what they want? Seriously? Is this your idea of school shopping for me? Again?” He waved the flyer toward her, his eyes shooting darts at her as he clenched and then unclenched his other fist.

  “No, that’s not what my plan was. I know how you feel toward . . . Principal Stone . . . and I’m respecting that.”

  She was more than just respecting that; she happened to agree with him one hundred percent, but she couldn’t admit that to him, not yet.

  Gabriel raised his brows as if he didn’t believe her.

  “I know there’ve been some difficulties between the two of you, but please try to remember that he’s . . .” She didn’t bother to finish her sentence, because Gabriel had already walked away from her and slammed the door to his room. It was probably best he didn’t stick around, because she had no idea how she was going to finish that sentence. He’s Charlotte’s husband; he’s an adult; he’s . . . No, not that. She’d never say that.

  If there was anyone in this town she hated more than life, it was Jordan Stone. Ever since they’d come to Stillwater Bay, he’d made her son’s life a living hell, and that was putting it mildly. She’d tried once to intervene and find a middle ground between the two of them, but it had only made the situation worse. Jordan seemed to make it his mission to cast Gabriel in a bad light, never giving him the benefit of the doubt, always blaming him for anything that happened at the school. Only once, in all her years of living here, had she met with Jordan alone to discuss his treatment of Gabriel. She swore she would never do it again. She’d gotten so mad she’d cried during their discussion, which quickly turned into an argument and a guilt trip. Everything was her fault, and Julia had walked away from that meeting feeling like she was the worst mother in the world.

  She had considered moving away, but the relationships she’d built with women like Lacie, Jenn, and even Charlotte and the others kept her grounded. They were her lifeline. So she’d considered moving Gabriel to a different school, but once Gabriel found out he’d thrown a fit, saying he wasn’t going to go running away like a coward.

  In that moment, she was proud of him. Proud of the son she’d raised.

  She let him go and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. She thought of the bank account she’d set up years ago for Gabe, the one that she put money into every month. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for college. She hated to use it, especially since college was only a few years away, but she could take a little bit out for clothes, at least. Unless . . .

  She took her coffee back to her bedroom and opened her closet door. There was nothing really special about the closet: a few clothes, a lockbox where she kept a handgun her mother had once insisted all single women needed as protection, and another small box she had tucked beneath a blanket on a top shelf. The box itself wasn’t very distinctive: an old shoe box that was now over sixteen years old, with a few worn edges.

  She hated the box. Hated everything it stood for, and preferred to pretend it didn’t even exist—except, of course, it did.

  She took it down from its spot only once a year, and only then to add a letter she would write to her son on his birthday.

  Inside the box were an old journal, sixteen letters, and over ten thousand dollars in cash. She should have placed it in a bank account, in Gabe’s account that she’d opened, but there was something about it being in cash and why it was given to her . . . it was dirty and she wanted nothing to do with it, even if that meant leaving it in a shoe box.

  The letters were for her son, and the money had been from his father. Originally there’d been fifteen thousand dollars, and she’d once sworn she wouldn’t touch a single dollar of it, but over the years, when things had gotten tough, she’d had no choice but to use a little here and there. She made sure it was only when absolutely needed, though, and always on Gabe’s behalf.

  Like the time she’d been between jobs and didn’t have enough to pay the rent for that month. Or when Gabe had gotten really sick and she didn’t have any insurance to cover his medical bills.

  She’d wanted to give Gabe the money when he was older; that had been her plan from the moment his father told her he didn’t want to be a father and would rather pay her off than be burdened. She’d never told Gabe who his birth father was—she’d made a promise never to reveal it—but this, at least, she could do.

  She grabbed the stool in the corner of her room, climbed up, and pushed the blanket to the side before she reached for the box. She heard a dull thud and glanced down at her feet to find the journal. It must have been on top of the box, but she didn’t remember placing it there. It should have been inside.

  Julia inhaled sharply. What if Gabe had found this journal? What if he’d read it? If he had, then he would have seen the money in the box as well. At the thought, she stepped down, opened the lid, and breathed a sigh of relief at the stacks of money resting in there. If her son had found it . . . well, she knew there would hardly be any left, as horrible as that thought was.

  It wasn’t that she believed the rumors about Gabriel shoplifting; it was more that he was a sixteen-year-old boy in need of money—she would be surprised if he hadn’t tried to lift any of it. He’d found all her other stashes where she kept her loose change, but she didn’t mind that.

  But if he’d read the journals . . . Oh, God, he couldn’t. Not yet. It would change everything, and she couldn’t be sure how her son would react to what he read in there.

  So why was the journal out of the box? She tried to think of the last time she’d taken it down off the shelf, but couldn’t. The last time she’d even thought about the journal had been after she’d talked to his father.

  Julia groaned. She didn’t want to think about that.

  She’d taken the notebook down to remind herself why she’d moved to Stillwater Bay, why she’d thought it had been such a good idea, why she wanted Gabe to be close to his father. Sometimes reminding herself helped. Most often it didn’t.

  She set the journal down on the bed beside her and took out a couple hundred-dollar bills. That should be enough to take Gabe into the city to buy him some decent clothes, ones he wouldn’t be embarrassed about. She should probably make sure there was enough left over to buy shoes and a new backpack for September as well.

  “Hey, Mom?”

  Julia’s stomach dropped as she made herself turn her head slowly to the left and smiled at her son, who stood in the open doorway.

  “Hey, bud. What’s up?”

  She attempted to hide the money she held in her hand between her legs, praying Gabe didn’t see.

  “I can’t find my hat.”

  She caught Gabe’s glance as it dropped to the floor and then back up.

  “Did you look
in the closet?” She stood up, smoothing the blanket where she’d sat.

  “What are you doing?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “Go find your hat before you miss the bus.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ve got time. What are you doing?”

  She made her way toward him and shooed him out the door. “Never you mind. Did you grab your lunch from the fridge? Anne Marie gave me some extra cookies for you yesterday.”

  “Sweet.”

  Julia made sure Gabe was headed to the kitchen before she reentered her bedroom and grabbed the box and journal. She put them back in the closet and made sure to drape the blanket across it so it was covered, a habit she wasn’t sure was needed now. She’d wanted to wait a few more years, at least until he was eighteen, but maybe now was the time. The time to be honest about his father and why he wasn’t in their lives.

  By the time she made it back out to the kitchen, Gabe was eating some of the cookies meant for his lunch and had a glass of milk beside him.

  “They’re good, aren’t they?”

  Gabe held out a cookie for her and she bit into it. Anne Marie made the best sweets.

  “What’s in the box?” Gabe asked her.

  “What box?”

  “The one in your room.”

  Julia shrugged. “Just a box of stuff from my past.” She looked at the clock. “If you don’t hurry you’ll miss your bus.”

  Gabe gave her a look she knew really well. He wasn’t going to let it drop.

  “How about you help me make the soap tonight? If we can get it done between the two of us, I’ll figure out a way for us to go into the city on Sunday to do some shopping, okay?”

  Her son rolled his eyes at her obvious tactic of distraction, but she knew by the smile that grew on his face that it worked.

  “The city?” His eyes had lit up.

  She nodded. “As long as you help me with the soap.”

  “What about the money, though? I thought we didn’t have any?”

  Julia thought about what she could say and decided as close to the truth as possible was probably best.

  “I have a little stashed away that we can use. Now go on; go get ready.”

  She wasn’t sure what it was—maybe the way his shoulders slanted downward or the hesitation in his steps, or even the wary glance he gave her as he walked past her, but her whole body shivered and the hairs on her arms rose.

  She cleaned up the kitchen a bit, keeping a constant eye on the clock and starting to feel impatient. She wanted to get to the store, to get her day started and see what she could arrange for Sunday before things got busy, but before she could do that, she needed to stop by Gina’s to see what items needed to be swapped in the displays. Gina was nice enough to showcase some of the items Julia took on consignment, and normally sold a good portion of them for her.

  “Gabe, are you almost ready?” She hated to leave before he did, but she was almost tempted to this morning. He had close to ten minutes before he needed to be at the corner for the bus.

  “I’ve got time still.” He popped his head out of his room. “Hey, Mom? Do you ever wish our lives were different?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gabriel kept his gaze down. “I don’t know. Just . . . different. So we’d have a bigger house and money for stuff?”

  He deserved an honest answer, no matter how hard it was to give it.

  “I wish a lot of things had been different, Gabriel. I wish our earlier years hadn’t been so hard and we weren’t alone like we were. I wish things were different for you at school, and I wish I had more time to spend with you rather than dealing with the stress that seems to creep in. But that doesn’t mean I would change anything. We are who we are because of what we’ve gone through; don’t you ever forget that.”

  “What about my father?”

  Julia sighed. “As far as I’m concerned, he did one great thing in his life, and that was give me you. He means nothing to me, Gabe. And I know . . . I know you wish you meant something to him, but trust me when I say he doesn’t deserve to have a relationship with you, okay?” She went over and gave him a hug. “Please don’t worry. We’ll be okay.”

  Gabriel pulled away from her and frowned. “I do worry. We’re not okay. We haven’t been okay, and I don’t like being someone’s pet project or seen as needing donations.”

  Julia wished life hadn’t dealt them such a rough hand, that Gabriel didn’t have so much anger and disappointment inside of him. Being a teenager was rough, and he couldn’t see just how blessed they actually were. She knew, however, that nothing she could say would open his eyes until he was ready.

  “You okay if I leave early? I have a few stops to make before I head to the store,” she said.

  “Whatever.” His voice was barely a mumble as he turned from her.

  “Don’t forget about—”

  “I know, I know. I’ll see about getting a job. Go to work already, will you?”

  “Do you want me to ask around?”

  “I’m not a little kid, Mom. I can take care of it. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” He walked down the hallway and shut the door to his room.

  Julia stood there, unsure of what to say. She wanted him to be independent, yet at the same time still need her. They had a unique relationship—it wasn’t always mother-son; sometimes it seemed like they conversed as two adults. It had just been the two of them for so long.

  “I love you,” she called down.

  She thought she heard the words love you too, but wasn’t sure. She waited a few more minutes to see if he’d come out, but then she knew she’d be hovering, and she was definitely not a helicopter mom.

  She grabbed her purse and a bag she had placed by the front door earlier and headed outside. It was a beautiful morning, and she enjoyed the walk from her cottage to the store.

  She stopped in at Gina’s coffee shop and was instantly greeted with a hug from her friend.

  “Great timing,” Gina said. “I just put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

  The smell of the beans Gina always ground wafted through the air, along with the scent of bacon.

  “Hungry?”

  Gina must have caught her looking at the menu board behind the counter.

  “I made bacon and eggs earlier for Gabe. But it smells delicious.”

  Julia spent a few minutes going over with Gina the new items for the display case and framed art to go on the walls. She marked down the things Gina had sold, took the envelope of money, and made note of the items she replaced everything with. When she got back to the store, she’d put all the info into her books and calculate what she owed the artisans. That was probably her favorite part of the job—figuring out how much others earned knowing that she was helping someone in her community.

  “Is the bus late this morning?” Gina pointed to the front window. The large school bus that picked up the high school students turned the corner.

  “No, I just left a little early. I wanted to make sure I had time to come in here and chat with you a bit.” Julia walked to the window and waited to see Gabe climb into the bus, but she must have missed him in the crowd.

  “A nice cup of coffee sounds like a good idea. Will you sit with me?” Gina asked her.

  Julia nodded, and then turned her attention back to the bus that drove past her.

  She thought about how quickly Gabe had grown up, and knew she’d been the one to blame for that. If only he’d had a father figure in his life, maybe then he wouldn’t have had to take on a lot of responsibilities around the house; maybe he would have had a normal childhood. She thought about the drawings that covered his bedroom walls. What was normal in today’s society? Maybe Pastor Scott was right: Maybe she was being too hard on herself and on Gabe. The pastor didn’t seem too worried about the mood swings and anger Gabe at times seemed to exhibit—emotions that came out of nowhere and always caught her off guard. She’d almost expected to see that anger this morning with the whole clothes-shopping discus
sion, but she was thankful that hadn’t happened. Maybe Gabe was using a few of the techniques Pastor Scott had taught him.

  “Here you go, darlin’.” Gina carried a tray with a coffee carafe, cups, and two English scones. “These are fresh, and the jam is one of my last jars. I can’t think of a better person to share it with than you.”

  Julia smiled. “I love you; you know that, right? I’m not sure what I would do without your friendship.” She reached across and gripped Gina’s hand.

  “I feel the same way; don’t you worry.”

  Julia took a sip of her coffee and breathed in a feeling of peace.

  7

  JENN CROWNE

  There was nothing Jenn liked to do better than to sit outside in her garden first thing in the morning with a cup of coffee and stare out over the bay. It was her grounding time, when she dug deep to find that sense of peace she needed to get through the day.

  There was a chill to the morning air, and Jenn tightened the blanket she had wrapped around her lap. She let her head sag back on the bench and breathed in the crisp, salty breeze.

  She would sit out here all day, enjoying the silence, the sense of peace that enveloped her, if she could. Except she couldn’t. She never could. There was too much to do.

  Like the new batch of muffins she wanted to try out. She’d found the recipe online last night, and if they turned out, she planned on making some to go in the baskets she prepared for the summer families as they arrived. She’d gone over her list last night and there were only two families who were arriving earlier than normal, so she could use them as her guinea pigs for the year. She had everything ready, other than the muffins and soap. She always had to have soap.

  The O’Neils preferred fruit and outdoor scents, while the Harrisons favored floral, and unfortunately she had one bar of ocean scent left from last year and that was it. Calling Julia was at the top of her list for the morning; she only hoped she could sweet-talk her friend into making an emergency batch. If not, she’d have to substitute something else for the soap in the Harrison basket. Maybe a candle or a jar of homemade bubble bath she’d picked up from the Treasure Chest at Christmas.