that didn’t sit well, she realized.
She filled the two mugs and carried the tray back outside. Jon stood with his back to her, leaning on the railing. The view always captivated her, and tonight was no exception. The tide was low and the bay itself was calm. Out on the strait, though, a light breeze had the surface dancing, and in the distance a cruise ship destined for Alaska glided by, lights twinkling in the dusk.
“Here we go.” She set the tray on the table and he walked back to join her. “Cream and sugar?” she asked after they were seated.
“Black is good, thanks.”
She scooped sugar into hers, added cream, stirred. He was watching quizzically when she looked up.
“I have a sweet tooth.”
“I can see that.”
She held out the plate. “Help yourself.”
“Ah. Cookies. Thanks for the ones you dropped off this afternoon. They were...great.” And he was a terrible liar.
“You didn’t look at all guilty when you said that.” His grin suggested he was onto her. “Casey thought we should bake something to welcome you to the neighborhood, but I am not a cookie-baking kind of mom. Actually, I’m not much of a cook of any kind.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” he said, and he sounded sincere. “I was glad you stopped by. So was Kate, although she might not have let on.”
Sarah set the tray on the table and handed one of the mugs to him. “Kate seems like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“She does. But she’s going through a...I don’t know...a phase? At least I hope it’s a phase.” He drank some of his coffee. “This is good.”
“Thanks. Fourteen’s a tough age, especially for girls.” She set her mug on the table and wrapped her hands around it. “No longer a child but not quite old enough to have any independence.”
“True. Boys seem to take a while longer to get to that point.”
“So I recall. I think raising girls is easier, don’t you?”
“I don’t know about easy, but then I never expected to be raising a kid on my own, boy or girl.”
“How long has it been?”
He drank some coffee while he contemplated his answer.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s a personal question. You don’t have to answer it.”
“No problem. I was just doing the math. Georgette moved out a year ago but even before that she was busy with her career, pretty much working twenty-four/seven, so we—Kate and I—were on our own a lot of the time.”
Sarah gazed into her coffee cup, choosing her words carefully. “Juggling family and career is tough for a lot of women,” she said. “We want to be a success at both.”
“Georgette likes to live large. It’s not a lifestyle that lends itself to parenting...and I’m being honest, not critical. She adores Kate, and Kate is her biggest fan.”
“Your daughter’s lucky to have her in her life then,” she said. “Casey was only six when my...when her father died in a car accident.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough.”
“It was at first.” She sipped some coffee and changed the subject. “What made you choose Serenity Bay as your new home?”
She didn’t particularly want to talk about herself, and she didn’t want to talk about her disaster of a marriage that ended even more disastrously. Keeping the conversation on current topics should be safe enough.
“I didn’t so much choose the town as it chose me. Deciding to leave the city was the first step. The town we moved to depended on where I could find a job.”
“Of course, that makes sense.”
“When I heard about the teaching position here, it sounded perfect. The school, the town, everything. Then I found this house, and here we are.”
“I hope you like it here. After my...Jim died, my parents tried to get me and Casey to move back to Ucluelet or least someplace on Vancouver Island where we’d be closer to them. They thought it would be easier for us to be near family, but Serenity Bay was the right place for us then and it still is. Great schools, friendly people. It’s a good place to raise kids.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” “My daughter was not happy about the move.”
Sarah smiled. “Teenagers don’t like change, that’s for sure. Casey said she’ll show her around and introduce her to some of the kids at school. Maybe that will help.”
“I hope so.”
“It’ll be good for Casey, too, having a girl her age living close by. She can be a bit of a loner and I worry about her sometimes.”
“But isn’t she on the soccer team?”
“She is, and she plans to work on the student newspaper and wants to run for student counsel, but outside school she spends a lot of time by herself, doing homework, reading. Especially this summer because her best friend is away.”
“She sounds grounded,” he said. “Maybe some of her enthusiasm will rub off on Kate. She does what she needs to get by and then she hangs out at the mall, pores over fashion magazines, exchanges text messages with her friends.”
There was no mistaking his tone when he mentioned the magazines. As close to derisive as possible without being rude.
“Sometimes a child finds her passion,” Sarah said. “And sometimes that passion finds her. Our job as parents is to encourage them to keep the doors open and be willing to explore opportunities when they present themselves.”
“When it comes to school, it might take a crowbar to pry open Kate’s doorway to opportunity.”
The comment stung Sarah’s sensibilities. Did he say things like that to his daughter? If he did, then there was little wonder they had a communication problem. She stood with her cup in her hand and reached for his. “I’ll get more coffee.”
“Thanks.” He sounded awkward, as though he’d picked up on her reaction and regretted what he’d said.
He was on his feet again and taking in the view when she returned with their mugs refilled. She set his on the metal top of the glass rail, next to where he leaned on his forearms.
The western sky was still lit by the sun that had just dipped out of sight. The harbor was quieter than it had been earlier in the day. A lone fishing trawler chugged into the marina, and a pair of kayakers paddled near the resort on the other side of the bay. For a few minutes she and Jonathan stood and gazed across the bay, occupied with their own thoughts.
She set her red mug next to his. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“I
