Chapter 1

Chapter One

Melody

Jewel Cove beach was cold and dreary in December, but it fit the mood for my walk. It was hard to believe that I was only one block away from all the festivities on Main Street. Tonight, there was dancing and lights and little heaters set up for the tourists. I couldn’t have been less interested; I was too busy stewing in my own thoughts.

Others might think it was a blessing that my mother left her “business” to me, but a doll shop didn’t really feel like a business. Coming back to my old hometown this past year hadn’t been my preference. If it weren’t for the divorce, I wouldn’t be running a doll shop in Jewel Cove.

Though Jewel Cove’s downtown area was cheerful with Christmas décor, I didn’t echo the sentiment. Probably because last Christmas had been full of too many bad surprises.

Christmas Eve had started off simple and normal. After carefully putting the porcelain Christmas village up in our living room, I’d been right in the middle of making sugar cookies when my husband had gotten home from work. Light Christmas music was playing in the background, making for a cheerful atmosphere; I’d been looking forward to our son, Will, coming home from his first year of college.

I’d grinned at my husband and said, “It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas party. Go get changed and you can help me finish these before the party.”

Then something changed in his seemingly easygoing face. “Look, we need to talk.”

I turned to him. “What’s going on? Something at work?”

It took him a long time to hang his winter coat in the closet. “Nothing from work.”

“What is it?” At that point, the worst thing I could imagine was that he’d lost his job, and I immediately started to worry about how we would help our son pay for tuition in January.

If only that had been the case.

He turned to face me, his eyes dark. “Melody, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on pretending.”

I still had sticky cookie dough on my hands, so I went to the sink and quickly scrubbed it off. My mind spun with possibilities, but I couldn’t guess what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, he was next to me, leaning on the counter. “Melody, I’m done living a lie. I have divorce papers; I’ll leave them on the counter. I’m going to go pack a bag. Hopefully we can resolve this through arbitration. Since it’s the holidays, that’ll probably be the first week in January.” He turned and headed toward the stairs.

If a tornado had dropped from the sky and suddenly swept the house up, I would have been less surprised. “What?”

Peter paused at the foot of the stairs. “C’mon, this can’t be a surprise for you. It’s been bad for so long.”

I could only stare at him. The timer on the oven rang out, prompting me to say, “We’re about to have a party! What are you talking about?”

At this point, he spun with anger in his eyes. “I’m telling you I want a divorce, and all you can do is talk about the Christmas party.” He flung a hand toward the oven, where the timer was still going off. “Don’t you think something’s wrong with this scenario?”

This was insane. I took the cookies out of the oven, my heart racing. “You’re being ridiculous. We can talk this out later. We have a party in thirty minutes.”

Peter moved to the counter and put his hands on it. “Melody, I don’t love you. Haven’t you noticed that we haven’t been connecting? You’ve been going to Jewel Cove all year.”

That ticked me off. “You mean because I was trying to support my mom through her cancer? Oh, and that little thing called a funeral last month.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“That’s not the point?” My anger grew. This fight had been brewing, but I’d put it off since the funeral last month. “I needed to be with her the past couple months. I was trying to help her figure out a way to fight the cancer.” Pain ripped inside my chest, and I thought of holding her hand the last time before her life slipped from this earth and I’d broken into the sobs I’d been holding in for what felt like forever. “I was trying to be strong for her, and I didn’t even have you to be strong for me.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks.

Peter glared at me. “Sure, keep using the ‘cancer’ excuse.”

I felt like I’d been slapped. “What?”

He gestured to the kitchen. “I swear, all you’ve cared about since coming back home is this party. Too bad. The party is off!” With that, Peter stomped upstairs.

Dumbfounded, I ran to the bottom of the stairs. “Peter! Peter!” I didn’t chase after him. I knew from previous fights throughout our marriage that when the man rushed away, I’d better not go after him.

I spent the next hour texting everyone that the party was off. Several people tried to call me, but I ignored them. When people who hadn’t gotten the text showed up, I didn’t answer the door. While I was busy with that, Peter came downstairs with a suitcase, which apparently he’d already packed, and left.

Now, standing on the beach almost a year later, I was a long way from Colorado. It hadn’t taken long to separate our lives, just like Peter had wanted. The divorce had been arbitrated. The house had been sold. Peter had even agreed that my mother’s estate wouldn’t be divided with him, so that was good. Too bad that my mother’s estate still had bills on it, and I was barely making ends meet.

From a distance, I could hear strains of Christmas music. It was December nineteenth. Tonight was a dance, so I was staying far away. I didn’t want to have to fake smile at everyone.

It’d been difficult running my mother’s doll shop and putting on a brave face. It’d been difficult waiting on customers who were in the Christmas spirit. It’d been difficult trying to call my son repeatedly, only to never get a call back from him. Will was finishing his second year at Colorado State University. He’d been devastated last year when he’d come home to the wreckage his father had caused. It’d been a hard Christmas. He’d told me he would come out to Jewel Cove to be with me this year, but he hadn’t told me when.

I stared up at the moon with a prayer in my heart. “Dear Lord, help ease this pain. Help me get through the holidays. Please help my son.” My voice cracked, and tears streamed down my face.

Pain burned in the center of my chest. Some of it was about my ex, but most of it was about the life I had lost. It was my son’s loss, too. We’d both had to find a new normal, and I truly hoped that his new normal would include a space for me. He’d been distant the past couple months, and I knew he had to be. He had to process his own grief.

I sighed and tried to focus on the cold-water lapping around my bare feet. The sand squeezing between my toes. Grounding—the therapist had told me to do that. Take my shoes off and walk on grass or sand. Ground myself in the present. Yet the present was six days before Christmas, and there was no way to escape the memories of the past.

“Dear Lord, give me new memories and please bless my son.”