2. Lovely

O h, my. Eddie was certainly not… elderly .

He might be in the same seventh decade as Lovely, yes. But based on the graceful way he climbed out of the compact SUV, sporting a surprisingly thick white ponytail hanging between his shoulder blades, and a fitted T-shirt and jeans that could have been on a younger man? Elderly Eddie was winning the war against Father Time.

Staying back in the shade of the veranda, Lovely stood next to their signature welcome tray, filled with orange juice flutes, an open bottle of champagne, and fruit kebabs garnished with bright pink hibiscus blooms.

Beck walked down the three steps to the recently paved circular drive to greet the new arrivals. Her wheat-toned hair fluttered over her shoulders in the breeze, her shoulders square with pride and confidence.

“Welcome to Coquina House,” she called to her guests, her voice, as always, exuding joy for the role as proprietress of this one-of-a-kind establishment.

Instantly, three heads whipped around to look at Beck. For a few beats, they were perfectly silent, staring at her, maybe not even seeing Lovely in the porch shadows.

“Hello,” Beck said. “It’s so nice to have you here.”

For a good five seconds, they still didn’t say a word, taking Lovely’s attention from her daughter to the strangers.

Did they speak English? Were they at the right place? Why were they looking at Beck like she was an alien?

Lovely’s gaze moved from the silver-haired man to the two women. One looked a little younger than Beck, maybe fifty or so, with a gorgeous mane of dark hair that had matching white streaks dramatically framing her face. Her eyes were midnight dark with an almond shape that, along with her flowered dress, made Lovely think of Hawaiian sunsets and luaus.

The other looked to be in her early forties, if that, with a sleek blond bob and sparkling blue eyes. She was sharp, slender, and dressed in a crisp white top and white jeans that looked like they had never met a speck of dirt.

Sisters? They didn’t even look remotely alike. But they did appear…shellshocked.

“Is one of you Melody?” Beck finally asked with an uncomfortable chuckle, obviously noticing the awkward silence as well. “Or have you come to the wrong place?”

“Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry.” The dark-haired woman came closer, extending her hand. “I…I just…yes, I’m Melody Davidson and you…must be Rebecca.”

She cooed the name with a subtle sense of amazement, no doubt because Beck had been so kind in opening the B&B to them this week.

“Not very many people call me that,” Beck said. “It’s Beck. Beck Foster.” She shook the woman’s hand. “Welcome to Coquina House,” she said again.

“Thank you… I…” She appeared to be speechless again, when the other woman stepped in.

“Beck, hello. I’m Jasmine Sylvester, Melody’s sister. Please call me Jazz. And this…” She shook Beck’s hand, then gestured toward the man who stood on the other side of the small vehicle.

He slowly raised his sunglasses and, even from this far away, Lovely could see light blue eyes pinned on Beck.

“Eddie Sylvester,” he said. “I’m the, uh, father.”

Very slowly, he came around the front of the car to greet her, staring at her like he’d never actually met a woman who owned a B&B before.

What a strange crew, Lovely thought, hanging back to watch the scene unfold.

“Beck,” he said. “It’s…wonderful.”

What was? The house? The weather? All of Coconut Key?

“Hello, Eddie,” Beck said, offering her hand in greeting.

He took it, held it for a second, then drew her in for a very light, quick, but unexpected hug.

“Oh!” Beck laughed. “So nice to?—”

He inched back, looking just a little sheepish. “Sorry. I’m a hugger.”

“It’s fine,” Beck assured him. “Most people don’t hug when they arrive, but they always do when they leave Coquina House. You’re just getting a jump on things.”

She gracefully stepped back and swept a hand toward the three-story Key West-style bed-and-breakfast. “Coquina House will be your home during your stay in Coconut Key,” she announced, the well-practiced words easily covering the awkward exchange.

To help her, Lovely stepped forward to be introduced.

“This is my mother and partner?—”

They all gasped and looked up at her.

“Your mother ?” Melody said, her voice rising in disbelief.

“I know, she doesn’t look old enough for that,” Beck said easily, the picture of class in front of these admittedly odd people. “But she brings the history and knows everything you ever want to know about Coconut Key. She grew up right here in Coquina House and now lives in a beach cottage you passed on the way down Coquina Court.”

As Lovely came down the top stair into the morning sun, she caught a look passing between the two sisters, rich with a silent message she couldn’t begin to decipher.

“All true,” she said lightly. “My parents built this house, and I lived here with my sister, Olivia?—”

“Who is dead, right?” the blond sister asked.

Lovely blinked in shock. “Why, yes. Seven years now. How did you…”

“We’ve researched the house,” Melody said quickly. “I wanted to know where we would be staying and there’s quite a bit about your family on file. We thought we read that, um, Olivia was Rebecca’s mother. So, that’s not you?”

Beck drew back, clearly as mystified by the grilling as Lovely. They’d never been asked about any of this before. With few exceptions, they kept the complex and private story of how and why Beck grew up thinking Lovely was her aunt entirely to themselves.

“Olivia raised me,” Beck said, obviously making one of those exceptions now. “But Lovely is my mother. I’m not sure why that?—”

“You’re Lovely!” Melody and Jazz exclaimed in perfect unison.

“Lovely?” Eddie nearly croaked the word. “That’s your name?”

“Yes, it is,” she replied, having had just about enough of this interrogation. “I am Lovely Ames, co-owner of Coquina House, lifelong resident of Coconut Key, and mother to this beautiful lady right here.”

Was that enough to satisfy their curiosity?

“Dad,” Jazz muttered to her father. “Her name is Lovely.”

“Tell her, Dad,” Melody said, jabbing him with her elbow. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

Somebody needed to tell her something , Lovely decided. This line of questioning had gone beyond awkward, past rude, and into intrusive.

For a few seconds, Eddie stared at her, his summer sky blue gaze locked on her.

“I have a tattoo that says…” he finally whispered, lifting up the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Look.”

Despite his tanned skin, Lovely could see the softest flush on his rugged cheeks as he angled his arm so she could read the words Her Name Was Lovely with a single musical note next to it.

She blinked, a melody suddenly playing in her head. “Like the song?” she asked. “Electric Breeze?”

His jaw loosened. “You know that?”

“I loved the song, for obvious reasons,” she admitted. “I guess you did, too.”

“He wrote it,” Melody said. “And was the lead singer of Electric Breeze. Eddie Sly.”

“Oh, wow.” Lovely felt a huge smile pull, resentment fading in the face of someone who’d given her hours of pleasure. “I didn’t know the names of the band members because…”

His eyes twinkled with warmth as her voice trailed off. “Because we had one hit and one hit only,” he said with a humble laugh. “But so few people know the song, so that’s cool.”

“I want to say…1968?” she guessed.

“And you’d be right.”

“Oh, I think you were three, Beckie,” she said, turning to her. “I sang that song to you a lot.”

“You still do,” Beck joked. “She’s got it on all her oldies playlists, too.”

“Thank you,” he said, still smiling at Lovely. “Thank you so much.”

“Me?” Lovely scoffed. “I count Her Name Was Lovely as one of my top five. Don’t make me sing it because I know every word.”

Eddie laughed at that, his eyes crinkling, so maybe he did look older than he had at first glance. “That’s amazing. Really.”

“It’s an honor to have you here,” Beck said. “All of you. But let’s get out of the sun and comfortable, shall we? I can give you the tour and get you all settled. We have juice and fruit and, for the adventurous, champagne.”

“You ladies go in,” Eddie said, taking a step back. “I’ll get the bags and…get the bags. Yeah. And, uh, Mel and Jazz?”

They turned to look at him.

“That’s enough about my past, okay? We’re just here for a couple of weeks of relaxation and vacation. Don’t bombard these ladies with any more questions.” He tipped his head in apology. “I’m afraid my daughters are very protective of me and my fleeting brush with fame. They like to make sure they know all the players when we travel somewhere new, so they end up with just enough information to be dangerous. We didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” Beck assured him as she led the other two women upstairs. “We’re honored you cared enough to look it all up.”

Still, Lovely thought, it did seem like a lot of digging for a man who had just one hit song in his life, even if that tune was near and dear to her.

Eddie studied her for a moment as he walked to the back of the SUV, a curious look on his face as he passed.

“I can’t believe you know that song,” he said, lifting up the hatchback.

“Sometimes strangers sing it to me,” she admitted on a laugh. “There’s a guy in the Publix deli who belts out the chorus every time I buy roast beef.”

Eddie snorted a laugh. “I’ll have to go do a duet with him while I’m here.”

“Oh, old Deli Dave would love that.”

“Maybe you can take me to meet him sometime,” he said, hoisting out a bag. “If you’re, you know, not busy.”

Was the man asking her out? Well, to the Publix deli. Not exactly a dinner date.

“I’d be happy to,” she said. “I, uh, better get inside. Are you good with the bags? I can take something, if you like.”

“No, no, please. You…” He looked hard at her again, his blue eyes warm and undeniably penetrating. “You fit your name, Lovely.”

“Oh.” She felt a flush rise. “Thank you.”

With another smile, she headed up the stairs, her cheeks warm and her smile wide. Had Eddie of the Electric Breeze just flirted with her? That was…interesting.

As she got to the top stair, she turned to see him standing behind the gaping hatchback, his head back, his eyes closed, and both hands clasped over his chest.

Saying a prayer? Thanking God that someone remembered his one big hit? Or…

She didn’t know. But there was something very peculiar about the man that tweaked her spirit. Peculiar and…vaguely familiar.

Well, she’d probably listened to Her Name Was Lovely a million times in her life, pretending it had been written for her. Maybe she’d seen his picture somewhere…close to sixty years ago.

Beck was right—she did have the song included in the “Sixties and Seventies” playlist that her great-granddaughter had made her and taught her to use on her phone.

She loved the music from that era, and that song always struck her as a bit out of touch with its time, a bubblegum ballad in the era of angsty folk and protest music.

Maybe that was why the Electric Breeze never had another hit.

Now that she’d thought about it, the earworm hummed in her head…taking her back.

Stars in the sky, stars in her eyes…girl in my arms, moon on the rise.

A secret kiss, I was never the same…I can’t forget her beautiful name.

That always reminded her of?—

“Lovely?” Beck called, waiting for Lovely to reach her in the entryway. “Help with the tour? You add such color and glimpses into the past.”

“Of course, Beckie.” She slid her arm around her precious daughter.

The song always reminded her of the night she made a big mistake that turned out to be an even bigger blessing.

She gave Beck a spontaneous kiss on the cheek.

“I know,” Beck whispered, out of earshot of the two women who’d gone into the kitchen. “Nosy as all get out, aren’t they? They just asked me about my three daughters!”

Lovely drew back. “What did they do, hire a private investigator?”

“Apparently, Eddie was a big record producer and owns a label. Famous people can be weird, I guess.”

“Nick’s famous,” Lovely said, referring to Savannah’s husband, who might be a retired actor, but qualified as a household name. “He doesn’t do a Google search every time they stay at a hotel.”

“Maybe he does,” Beck said, tugging her closer. “Let’s move this along and get these people checked in, give them a list of local activities and a lock code. I want to skedaddle before they start talking about my divorce next.”

Lovely agreed, but something deep inside felt unsettled by their arrival, and she couldn’t quite shake the feeling.