Page 31 of Coastal Reflections

He nodded, understanding, and Audrey slipped outside onto the front porch.

“Hey,” she said, making her way to the porch swing and sitting down on the cushions. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah.” Penelope’s voice was shaky with tears for a moment, and then she steadied it. “I just got home, and there was something waiting for me on the kitchen table.”

Audrey swallowed, knowing in her gut what was coming next. “The divorce papers?”

“Yeah.” Penelope let out a long sigh. “He signed them. Didn’t leave a note or anything. No text. No, ‘Hey, I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way we vowed to each other that one time in front of all of our friends and family members.’”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Audrey said, shaking her head. “I know that must be so hard, even though it was what you were asking him to do. Divorce is painful. How are you feeling about it?”

Penelope paused for a few seconds, and Audrey could just picture the alert, curious expression that Penelope always got on her face when she was thinking. “It is painful, you’re right, but these last several years have been painful. And heartbreaking. I really didn’t want things to turn out this way. But oddly enough, what I feel right now more than anything is relief. It’s done now. No more decision, no more having to deal with chasing down Robert to get answers to basic questions. No more feeling ignored and unimportant all the time. It was a long time coming, and I think things are just going to get better for me from here. Hopefully they get better for him too.”

“Hopefully,” Audrey agreed. “And I can guarantee that they’ll get better for you. Me and Harper are going to stand beside you and make sure you’re supported while you’re dealing with this. You’ve been extremely brave, Penelope. You made hard choices because you knew you had to, and you’re going to make a better life for yourself. I know you are.”

“Thanks, Audrey. That means so much to me. Right now, I feel pretty okay. I feel bad for Robert a little bit, but not too much because I really do think he hardly even cares about our marriage. That man is so totally focused on himself.”

Audrey grimaced. “I know what it’s like to have to deal with a man who’s thinking only of himself. You’re going to be so much happier moving forward, once the pain of the divorce fades.”

“I feel lighter already,” Penelope admitted.

“Good.” Audrey smiled. “You’re going to get through this, Penelope. Everything is going to be fine.”

They talked for a few more minutes, and then Penelope said that she should call her mother and Harper. They said an affectionate goodbye and hung up. Audrey tucked her phone into her pocket and stared out across the yard of The Birchwood House, getting lost in thought. She knew she should go back inside and talk with her boyfriend, who was waiting for her, but her mind was full of thoughts and emotions.

I know I should take some of that confidence that I just tried to bestow on Penelope and give it to myself, she thought, shaking her head. But is everything in my situation going to turn out just fine? I feel so worried that Clark is going to take the clock and hurt me yet again. I thought he was done hurting me.

She inhaled, feeling a rush of sadness. After it came, however, she felt a glimmer of hope. Clark didn’t have the power over her that he used to. She wasn’t married to him anymore, and she didn’t love him anymore. And just like how Penelope wouldn’t be alone as she faced her divorce, Audrey wasn’t alone as she faced Clark’s threats.

She smiled quietly to herself and stood up. She was going to go back inside and spend time with her boyfriend, who made her feel safe and supported. Then she was going to show her daughter all of the fun items she’d bought at Common Thread, and then she was going to eat a delicious dinner with her family, in the home that they’d created together. Those were the kinds of things that meant the world to her, and Clark couldn’t take a single one of them away from her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Michelle sat down at the front desk of The Birchwood House with a cup of coffee, struggling with a yawn. She’d slept badly the night before, and she felt a little daunted by the prospect of wrestling with emails and phone calls all day. Ordinarily, she loved that sort of work, but normally she had about three times more energy than she did at the moment.

She took a sip of her coffee, appreciating the sweet, warm flavor of the caramel syrup that she’d added to her beverage. She scrunched her toes, shutting her eyes for a moment. She felt a sudden urge to just curl up on the couch in the parlor with a good book instead of sit behind her desk and work all day.

She glanced at the couch, feeling tempted. It was so soft and cozy, laden with dark red and burnt orange blankets and dappled with the flickering sunlight that was streaming in through the parlor’s picture window.

Oh, I shouldn’t, she thought, and then she noticed that her mystery book was still resting where she’d left it on the coffee table, her pink bookmark poking out of the center of the pages. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to read for a while—I’ll be right here. If the phone rings, I can answer it.

She squared her shoulders, determined to check on the email situation before she played hooky. She was always very good about keeping a tidy email inbox for the hotel, but sometimes the mornings brought along a slew of new booking requests or question emails.

She opened her laptop and clicked her way to the inbox. Her eyebrows lifted with surprise when she saw that there were no new emails. She refreshed the page, wondering if the emails simply hadn’t loaded yet. Still nothing. She let out a little grunt and then looked over at her book with a grin.

She stood up and scampered over to the couch. She flopped down and picked up her mystery, sinking back into the soft cushions with a sigh.

I’ll check the email again in half an hour, she thought, opening her book. Or maybe even an hour.

She began to read, soon becoming engrossed in the story. She sipped her coffee as she read, feeling energized by the novel as well as by the relaxation that came with not having to work. She’d been reading for about twenty minutes when Elaine stepped into the parlor.

“Michelle, have you seen my planner? I can’t remember where I left it.”

Michelle looked up, blushing. She felt guilty about not working, even though it was Saturday and no one had asked her to man the front desk that day. “Um, no—actually wait, yes. It’s over there on the front desk.”

“Excellent. I want to plan the breakfasts for next week.”

“We don’t have any emails,” Michelle blurted. “And if the phone rings, I’ll jump up and answer it. I just figured I might as well read while I waited.”