Chapter Three

Peyton

Thirty-five years is a long time to be away from home.

As I drove slowly on the familiar roads leading into Crystal Cove, I mused that as much as I'd tried to forget my hometown, in the deep recesses of my head, the Cove never stopped being home. No matter how often I'd made the decision not to return, and despite my determination not to enjoy being here, I felt a rusty sort of thrill in my heart when I saw the sign at the edge of town:

Welcome to Crystal Cove.

We're Glad You're Home.

That sign had been posted in this spot for as long as I could remember. Back in my early days of high school, as soon as some of our crowd had gotten their licenses, we used to drive out here and take pictures with the sign, usually while one of us made a rude gesture. I wondered if kids still did that sort of thing; of course, back in my youth, we'd snapped the photos with cameras our parents had given us for Christmas or our birthdays, and then we had the film developed at the local drugstore. What had we done with those prints, I wondered? I couldn't remember.

Now, if kids still posed in front of the sign, they would take the pictures with their phones and post on social media. I tried to imagine what my growing up years might have been like if I'd had access to crazy things like smart phones or the internet. It was a crazy thought.

I'd made it down to Florida in good time, and it was too early to check in at the hotel. I wasn't ready to venture to the main part of town yet, so instead, I cruised around the adjacent neighborhoods. Some were so different that I couldn't believe it; the small houses had been demolished and replaced by mansions or ultra-modern beach homes. The Cove was not immune to the march of time and change.

But my grandparents' home was still there, its dignity intact. The porch where I'd often sat with my grandmother popping green beans or listening to my granddad spin his stories had been screened in, and the ancient wooden siding had been replaced with vinyl of a different color, but I could see the footprint of the original house.

And when I cruised past Aunt Maggie and Uncle Joe's place, it was mostly untouched. It was painful to think that both of my cousin Jude's parents had passed while I was away. My uncle Joe, with his relaxed, happy vibe, had been so different from my own father's stiff and grouchy sternness. I'd loved spending time with their family, even though Jude and Mark were both older than me. Aunt Maggie had been the woman I wanted to be, always smiling and patient, cooking us food that my parents didn't allow me to eat at home.

Almost reluctantly, I turned down the street where I'd grown up, hoping that maybe someone had had the good sense to tear down my parents' house and replace the structure with a condo. But no, there it stood, stalwart and dour in the middle of the block of nearly identical homes. My parents' lawyer had emailed me once the property had sold after my mother moved to the nursing home in Elson, so I wasn't at all surprised to see a car in the driveway and the side yard cluttered with kids' toys. Still, it was oddly jarring to see that another family had taken up residence in the house that held so many memories.

There was nothing here for me, not anymore. Maybe there never had been. I let my mind wander back to my childhood, to my mother, an anxious, fastidious woman who often looked at me as an exhausting disruptor plunked down in the middle of her orderly life. I thought of my father and how Uncle Joe had once described him as a whistling, happy-go-lucky guy before he'd been drafted and sent to fight in Vietnam. According to my uncle, his brother had returned home a different man, haunted by what he'd experienced. But in the late sixties and early seventies, men of his age and place in life didn't seek therapy or help of any kind, so instead, he'd simply grown more silent and bitter. I'd sometimes had the sense growing up that he couldn't figure out what to do with a daughter. Maybe if I'd been a son, he might have taught me to shoot guns and play baseball, but I guessed I'd never know.

I was growing morose, sitting here and staring at my childhood home, and it wasn't unlikely that some nosy neighbor could call the cops about the unfamiliar car with out-of-state plates casing the area. I put the car into drive again and eased away from the curb.

"This is why I didn't want to come back to this stupid reunion," I muttered to myself. "There's nothing left here for me but pain."

On the heels of that thought, though, came another: there was one place in Crystal Cove that held only happy memories for me, and I could get there from here with my eyes closed. I made the necessary turns, driving a few blocks until I'd reached the Cove's main street. I hung a right, hoping that luck was with me and I'd be able to find a spot in the small lot behind the Tide.

It took me a while to get there, even though I could see the Tide and the edge of the beach from where I was stuck in traffic. Cars were bumper to bumper between the center of town and the beach entrance, which was annoying but did give me the chance to glance around to see how things had changed.

And how they had changed! All of the storefronts opposite me had bright and shiny new signs, proclaiming businesses I didn't recognize. Gone was the old five and dime where I'd routinely shopped for penny candy as a girl and grabbed cold sodas with friends when I was a teen. It had been replaced by a store called The Surf Line and displayed surf boards and skateboards in the wide windows. Across the street, the old yellow house that had sat in disrepair for years was now lovely and graceful, right down to the sign in front that read The Hawthorne House: A Bed and Breakfast.

Ah. So that was the project my cousin Jude had mentioned to me, the one her husband Daniel had begun shortly before his death. I knew that Jude and her second husband, Logan, now owned the bed and breakfast, in addition to The Riverside Inn and the Rip Tide. It was wild to think of my cousin as hotel and restaurant magnate of sorts.

I finally made it down Beach Street and managed to squeeze my sedan into a tiny spot on the side of the lot, the same place I used to park back in the day. Uncle Joe used to block off that area for family only.

I had just grabbed my handbag and climbed out of the driver's seat—moving a little stiffly after hours of driving—when I heard someone call out.

"Oh, hey, sorry, that's not a parking spot."

I adjusted my sunglasses and looked at the guy talking to me. He was tall, dressed in shorts and a gray T-shirt that read "THE Rip Tide: Best Burgers and Beers on the Beach!". His reddish-brown hair was a little long, and the green eyes gazing at me with barely veiled exasperation were so familiar that my breath caught.

"Back when I lived in the Cove, family was allowed to park over here." I took a few steps toward him. "Has that changed?"

He shook his head, frowning. "No, we still do that. But you . . ." His voice trailed off as he squinted at me. "Um, you look like my mom. Sort of, I mean."

I laughed. "We're cousins, but once upon a time, we were often mistaken for sisters." I thrust one hand toward him. "I'm Peyton. And I guess you must be Joseph, right?"

"Peyton? Mom's cousin, Peyton?" Joseph laughed out loud, and ignoring my hand, wrapped me in a bear hug. "I've heard about you! Welcome home."

When I'd seen the same sentiment on the sign at the edge of the Cove, I'd sniffed snarkily, but hearing it from my cousin's son, I had to fight back tears.

Home.

For so many years, I'd forced myself to forget Crystal Cove, to forget my family. My emotional survival had required that I never thought about them—or if they came to mind, that I immediately pushed down those memories. But now, standing in this familiar place, wrapped in the welcoming hug of a family member I'd never met, I knew that deep down, I'd never really cut myself off from the Cove.

"You have to come in," Daniel was saying as he released me. "Mom is here, and Logan, too. Everyone is all hyped up about the reunion—geez, it's all we've heard about for the last few weeks."

I allowed him to lead me across the parking lot to the back door of the Tide, up the steps that looked exactly the same as they had thirty-five years ago, the last time I'd run up them on my way to grab a burger and a chat with Jude. He threw open the door to a dining area that was fairly empty, with only a few people occupying tables here and there.

"Hey, Mom! Look who I found trying to park in the family lot!"

The woman sitting at the bar turned toward us, freezing momentarily before she jumped up and sprinted toward us.

"Peyton! Oh, my gosh, I can't believe you're really here!"

And then I was once again enveloped in a tight hug. I buried my face in Jude's neck, appalled to realize I was crying.

"I mean, I know I've seen you in Georgia, but it's different than—hey, are you crying?" She held my face between her hands the same way Aunt Maggie used to do to me. Her bright green eyes searched mine, and whatever she saw there made her sigh and pull me close again.

"Oh, Peyton. It's okay. You're home now, and we're so happy. We've missed you so much."

She tucked me against her, one arm draped over my shoulders, and led me toward the bar. "Logan, look who it is! You remember my cousin Peyton."

"Sure, I do." The man sprawled over a bar stool stood up, grinning at me. His face wore a few wrinkles, and his light brown hair boasted some gray strands here and there. But I recognized him right away.

"Logan." I smiled widely right back at him. "God, when I look at you, I could swear it's 1985 again, and I'm watching the whole posse on the beach after graduation. It's like no time at all has passed."

He chuckled. "I'd like to agree with you, but the way my body feels today after helping the crew with set-up for tonight, I'd be lying." He put one hand to his back and winced. "Most days, I can keep up with the grandkids and even manage a run on the beach. But other days, I feel every minute of being almost sixty."

"Hey, there." Jude gave her husband a gentle punch on the arm. "We're not almost sixty. We're only fifty-seven."

Logan drew his wife to him, and the love that shone through his eyes almost made me feel as though I was intruding on an intimate moment. "Sweetheart, I know math is not your favorite, but rounding up means we're closer to finishing our sixth decade."

"Oh, whatever." Jude rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "Peyton, c'mon. I want you to meet everyone." She raised her voice. "Hey, y'all! Come out here. I have someone you need to see."

The first one out of the kitchen was a young woman carrying a toddler on her hip. She was followed by a sturdy looking little boy and an older couple who I would have known anywhere.

"Peyton Rivers!" Sadie tossed her hands in the air. "Well, hallelujah! Girl, it's way past time that you brought your smiling face back home. Get over here."

Sadie and Mack had worked at the Rip Tide for as long as I could remember. Aunt Maggie used to joke that they came with the building when my grandparents had bought it back in the fifties, and it was entirely possible that she had been onto something. As I hugged Sadie, the thought crossed my mind that she really didn't seem to have aged in thirty-five years.

Her husband Mack claimed me next, smacking a kiss on my cheek and holding me by the arms, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.

"You got skinny, missy." Releasing me, he raised his voice. "Martin, get me a Ripper platter, and put some speed on it!"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly—" I began, but Jude shot me a quelling look. I remembered the old rule: no one argues with Sadie and Mack.

"That sounds delicious," I admitted. "Thanks, Mack. I haven't had a really decent burger in over thirty years."

"Well, you're about to have your socks knocked off then," he huffed. "We don't serve anything that's only decent. The Tide only serves the best."

Jude rescued me, slipping her arm around my waist. "While you're waiting, let me introduce you to my bonus daughter, Lindsay. Linds, this is my cousin, Peyton."

"I've heard so much about you," the younger woman responded. "It's nice to connect a face with the stories."

I laughed. "The stories are only half-true if they're told from Jude's point of view. Remember, she's four years older than I am. She was always getting me into trouble."

"Hey, hey." My cousin affected an affronted expression. "Watch it. My grandchildren are listening." She gestured toward the two small faces gazing at me with open curiosity. "This handsome young man is Daniel Joseph, DJ for short. And the adorable little girl is Brenna Jude."

DJ planted his hands on his hips. "I don't know who you are."

"DJ." Lindsay laid a hand on his dark hair. "Mind your manners. Miss Peyton is family. She's your . . ." She tilted her head. "Your first cousin, twice removed."

"That's right." I bent my knees to sit on my haunches. "Your nana and I used to play together when we were your age. I'm very glad to know you." Standing, I smiled at the little girl in Lindsay's arms. "And you, too. You look a lot like your nana—and your great-grandmother, too."

It was true. Jude's granddaughter had Aunt Maggie's eyes, and thinking of how long she'd been gone brought tears to my eyes once more.

"I know." Jude slipped her arm around my waist again. "Come on, Pey. Let's get a booth and drink some wine with your burger."

"That's the best offer I've had in ages," I sighed, trailing my cousin to the far end of the dining room. "But I don't want to interrupt if you're supposed to be working or doing something else."

Jude laughed. "Oh, I don't work here really. Not anymore. Daniel and Lindsay keep the Tide humming along during the days, and Emmy runs things at night on the weekends." She slid into the booth and pointed me into the opposite seat. "You remember Emmy Carter, right? She was Emmy Graham when you knew her."

"Of course, I remember her. Wow, Emmy Graham works for you now?"

"She does, in a way. She took over the weekend nights a couple of years before Daniel died, and she really ran with it. Emmy's more like a part-time partner now than an employee. She and Daniel make most of the decisions about the restaurant, and I just put in my two cents when it's absolutely necessary." Jude paused as Mack hustled over with a plate that held an oversized burger and a ton of fries. "Ooooh, that looks delicious, if I do say so myself."

I groaned. "I'm never going to be able to eat all of that."

Jude smiled. "We have to-go boxes, and all of the rooms at the Riverside have mini-fridges and microwaves. Take it home in case you get hungry later tonight."

I took a bite of the burger and groaned again, but this time in ecstasy. "Holy crap, Jude. This is heavenly."

"Good. You need it. Sadie's right, you're too thin." She went silent for a moment, studying me with her head cocked. "I hope you won't get mad if I say you needed to come back to the Cove, too. It's been too long, Pey."

I glanced away, intent on my fries. "I never planned to come back. When I left, I swore it was for good."

"We swear a lot of things when we're eighteen, though," she observed. "I know everything was—hard when you went away. I told you this before, I'm sure, but my parents were heartbroken when you left the Cove, and very angry at your mom and dad. They both felt there was another way, a better way."

"But it was too late." I shook my head and wiped my mouth with the paper napkin. "The things we said to each other . . . there was no going back." I was quiet for a minute, remembering. "They told me not to come back. Not unless Ryan married me, and then we'd be welcome."

Jude snorted. "That's crazy. I thought so even then, but knowing what I do now—" She sighed. "I'm so sorry, Peyton. I feel like part of my life has been missing all these years. I'm glad we stayed in touch, but not having you here in the Cove—not getting to know Charlotte as she grew up, seeing her with Meggie and Joseph—it hurts, even now. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you."

I'd spent thirty-five years not dwelling in the land of might-have-beens, and I wasn't going to change that now, not even in the face of my cousin's sympathy. "We all do what we have to do, and that's what I did—I survived. I had my baby and raised her, and I made a life for us. I'm proud of that—especially proud that I did it without help from anyone in Crystal Cove."

Jude winced. "Okay. Sorry, Peyton. Sometimes I forget you're not my kid cousin anymore. I didn't mean to—I'm sorry."

I swallowed over the lump of regret in my throat and forced a bright smile. "Don't be sorry. It's fine." I nudged my plate away. "Thanks for the food. I think I'd like to see about checking into the hotel so that I can get a little rest before everything kicks off tonight. What do I owe you for my burger?"

"Peyton." Jude's voice had changed from hurt to reproachful. "You know family doesn't pay for food at the Tide."

"Oh." I had forgotten. "Of course. Well, thanks. It was really good."

"You're welcome." She was frowning at me, and I couldn't miss the worry in her eyes. "I know I said it before, but we'd love to have you stay with us at the house." She attempted a feeble smile. "Logan and I are both proud of the Riverside, and it truly is a luxurious resort, but our house is right on the beach, and we have a lovely guest room, and?—"

"Jude." I laid my hand on her arm. "I appreciate that. It's very kind of you. But I'm here for the reunion, and I'm really looking forward to staying at the hotel. I mean, I've come all this way to see my classmates for the first time in decades, and I don't want to miss any of it."

"Of course. I understand." She didn't, and I could hear it in her voice, but she wasn't going to argue with me. "But if you change your mind?—"

"I won't." I softened my refusal with a gentle squeeze of her arm. "But I'll be around. I'll see you over the weekend."

I'd been brought up to exhibit good manners, which required that I say goodbye to Lindsay, Daniel, Logan, Sadie and Mack. But just now, I didn't have it in me to do that. So instead, I hitched the strap of my purse onto my shoulder and compromised by calling over my shoulder.

"So nice to have met you all! I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

And then I walked out into the sunshine, alone.