Maxine let out a long sigh. “I know. They do. I just hope they’ll come around soon. I would love to be there for the birth of the baby.”
Beverly fumed silently. It would be just like Tiffany, with her stubborn and vindictive nature, to deliberately withhold the news of the baby’s birth, simply out of spite. Maxine deserved so much better from her ungrateful children.
Maxine picked up her tea, the ice rattling in the glass. “Anyway, let’s change the subject. Any more news on Cliff’s plan to build the high-rise at the end of the boardwalk?”
“Not that I know of. I haven’t seen Cliff except for one time at the end of the street. He was talking to his mom. And Miss Eleanor was chewing him out.” Beverly relished the sense of satisfaction of Miss Eleanor putting Cliff in his place. “I turned right around and hurried away. I have no desire to run into him again. Or speak to him.”
“I heard there’s going to be another town meeting about it soon.”
“That’s what I heard. When we find out the date, we’ll make sure that everyone shows up. We’ll show Cliff that’s not what we want for Magnolia.” Not that she thought Cliff cared one bit about what Magnolia wanted. He’d left Magnolia behind all those years ago. Leftherbehind. A hint of bitterness stabbedher every time his name was mentioned. Now she didn’t want anything except for him to leave town again.
“Well, if Miss Eleanor gets her way—and she usually does—her son doesn’t have a chance.” Maxine grinned. “She’ll send him packing, which is just what we need.”
They clinked their glasses and toasted Cliff’s departure.
CHAPTER 7
Connor stood at the window of his cottage, watching the storm rage outside. It had come in abruptly, giving him barely enough time to close up his workshop and get back to the cottage.
Lightning crackled in the sky, illuminating the crashing waves on the beach. The lights flickered, and he held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t go out. His hopes were in vain because his cottage plunged into total darkness. He grumbled under his breath as he headed to the cabinet with the lantern and flashlights. Who knew how long the electricity might be out?
He glanced out the window and over to that Amanda woman’s cottage. It was in total darkness, although he knew she was home. He’d seen her hurry up the beach to her cottage right before the storm rolled in. She probably didn’t even have enough sense to have storm supplies. Flashlights, food that didn’t need to be cooked, extra water.
As much as he wanted to ignore the dark cottage next door, his conscience nagged at him. His instinct to avoid any and all interaction with his new neighbor warred with a sense of unease at the thought of her alone in the dark during the storm.
His conscience won. With a deep sigh, he went to the closet and took out his raincoat. He grabbed some candles, matches, and an extra flashlight lantern. Hoping she wouldn’t take this as an overture toward friendship, he opened the door, bracing himself against the buffeting winds and pelting rain. Holding up the lantern to light his way, he sprinted the short distance to her cottage and climbed the porch stairs, grateful for the overhang over the front door for meager protection against the elements.
As he paused there, irritation at this deviation from his habit of avoiding people poked at him. Why should he care if some city person didn’t know enough to prepare for storms?
Connor Dempsey. Mind your manners. We were raised better than this.He swore he could hear his older sister’s voice chastising him.
“I hear you, Megs,” he said under his breath.
He rapped briskly on the door and then waited for Amanda to answer.
What was taking her so long? He scowled and knocked again, this time harder. Maybe she couldn’t hear him over the noise of the storm?
Well, if she didn’t answer, there wasn’t much he could do, now was there? He turned to leave, then sighed, still hearing Megan’s voice. Turning back once more, he pounded on the door this time and called out her name. “Amanda? You in there? It’s Connor.”
“Come in.”
He barely heard her over the storm. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. He stepped inside, dripping water on her floor, and swept the lantern high, illuminating the room.
Amanda lay on the floor. His heart did a double-beat, and he crossed the distance in two long strides. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I just tripped over the coffee table when I was trying to find my phone so I’d have some light to look for flashlights or candles.”
He knelt beside her. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. Really. I am.”
He stood up and reached down a hand. She hesitated slightly, then grasped his hand as he pulled her to her feet. She stood unsteadily for a moment, then regained her balance.
“So you came to check on me?” She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him with a bit of skepticism.
“Saw it was dark over here. Wasn’t sure you had storm supplies. Sometimes when the island loses electricity, it takes a while to come back on.”
“I’m not sure if there are flashlights here or not.”
