Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The morning sunlight was gentle as Darla Maroney came gradually awake, spurred out of her dreams by the joyous barking of her puppy, Scout.

"Shh." She heard her husband, Rick, speak admonishingly in a laughing whisper as she headed toward the bedroom door. "Scout, hush. You'll wake your mom."

Scout's next bark was just as playful… and just as loud. Darla grinned to herself.

She came around the corner, taking a moment to pause in the doorway to her kitchen and look at her husband playing tug-of-war with a knotted piece of rope that Scout loved… and that had seen better days. She made a mental note to buy another rope toy, although knowing Scout, she'd prefer the dirty, ragged one over a new one. Darla's heart swelled with love as she watched the two playing. For so long, she'd imagined another life for herself, one where she was an artist working in the hustle and bustle of New York City. The life she had was very different… but she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Her moment of quiet observation was interrupted when Scout spotted her, immediately dropping the rope to come over and give Darla lots of puppy kisses. She bent down to greet the dog's exuberant welcome, since they were working on teaching Scout not to jump on people.

"Good morning, sweetie," she told the pup, scratching behind her ears and laughing as she dodged Scout's slobbery tongue. "Did you have a fun time playing with your dad?"

"Gosh, Scout," Rick teased as he approached. "Let me say good morning too, please."

Darla stood to accept his kiss and hug.

"Did we wake you up?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I heard you guys, but I was drifting awake anyway. I didn't want to oversleep, since I'm meeting the girls for brunch this morning." This was a reference to her friend group, which consisted of her sister, Marty, and their friends Charity and Monica. A few months prior, they'd added their friend Claire to the core group. Marty and Darla had known Claire since high school, but they'd drifted apart as Claire had dealt with her lupus diagnosis. Darla regretted letting Claire muddle through those tough years without the support of her friends but was excited that they had rekindled their friendship so effortlessly.

"Oh, right," Rick said. "I forgot. Well, I was going to offer you breakfast, but I guess it'll just be Scout and me this morning." He grinned down at the dog. "How does that sound, girl? Should I sneak you a piece of bacon while your mom is out?"

At the word bacon, Scout's tail started wagging so hard that Darla was surprised it didn't fall off. She laughed as Rick and Scout resumed their play and she retreated to their bedroom to get ready to meet her friends.

She took a quick shower and then put on a flowy sundress with a funky abstract pattern. She might not be a city-dweller any longer, but she was still an artist, and that reflected in her style. She paired the dress with a series of thin silver bangles that tinkled merrily against one another as she moved. A quick swipe of mascara, some tinted lip balm, and she was ready to go.

"You look great, sweetheart," Rick told her as she gave him a kiss goodbye. "Tell everyone I said hi."

"Will do, thanks!"

The drive from her house to downtown Whale Harbor was a short one, but with tourist season in full swing, she felt grateful to find a parking spot so close to the Clown Fish Eatery. She'd been coming here for weekend brunch for years, since her sister had waited tables on the weekend at the Clown Fish for ages. Marty's design store, Sand ‘n' Things, was enough of a success now that she no longer had the time or need to have a second job, but the Sims sisters—though both of them now had different last names, as they'd married—had kept the tradition alive. They'd gotten their friends to join and now they were a fixture at the Clown Fish's brunch service. They didn't make it every weekend, as they all had busy lives, but they came out as often as they could.

It was fortunate that they were regulars, Darla thought as she entered the cheerful chatter of the packed restaurant, the rich aroma of coffee perfuming the air. If not, they'd have struggled to get a table big enough for all five of them when things were this busy.

But Rose and Darell Smith, the sweet older couple who were like surrogate grandparents to the whole town of Whale Harbor, knew that the group of women would be coming and had saved them a table.

Darla, as it happened, was the last to arrive. She approached their table to find her sister and their friends already seated.

"Hi, hi, good morning," she greeted cheerfully as she took her spot in the remaining seat. "You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

"No, not at all," Charity Turner said, waving off Darla's concern. Charity, who ran Seastar Espresso, the local coffee shop, was the oldest of the friend group by a few years. In her mid-thirties, Charity was tall and pretty with tan skin, jet-black hair, and brown eyes that always glimmered with happiness… especially recently, since she'd started a relationship with Dominic Reeves, who had recently moved to Whale Harbor from Boston with his daughter, Addie. The two were neighbors, and though they'd initially butted heads, they'd eventually bonded over being single parents and fallen in love. Addie and Charity's son, Lucas, were inseparable.

"I actually assumed I would be the last one here," Charity said. "Because, you know, kids."

"You know, that's funny," Monica Watson added. "I assumed I would be last, since I had to do breakfast at the B&B first."

Monica had been a librarian for years before opening Literary Stays, her reading-themed B&B that sat on the border between Whale Harbor and the adjacent town, Blueberry Bay. Given the number of tourists in town, Darla knew her friend had to be busy, not that it showed in the gleam of her green eyes, which shone behind her big, thick-framed glasses. Monica had always been sunny, but she'd become even more so since opening the business of her dreams… and marrying the man of her dreams, her husband, Braden.

"I never thought I would be last because I'm amazing," Marty joked, jokingly tossing her curls, which were just like Darla's. The main difference between them was that Marty's hair was dark brown, while Darla's was auburn. Marty's eyes were also a little lighter than Darla's dark brown, the younger sister having more honey-brown eyes, but other than that, it was very clear that they were sisters.

"And modest too," teased Claire, the most recent addition to their group.

Rose gave them a wave of her notepad, showing that she'd come take their orders in a minute. The women all looked down at their menus, although there was hardly any point. They all had the brunch menu at Clown Fish Eatery practically memorized.

"I don't know why I even bother," Charity said with a laugh after a moment of quiet. "I'm going to get my usual. Eggs benedict and a mimosa."

"Same for me," Monica agreed. "Although I'm going to skip the mimosa this time." She paused, looking out at the group with a bashful sort of smile on her face. "Braden and I are trying for a baby," she admitted. "And I know you're allowed to have alcohol while you're trying, but I guess I'm aiming for ‘better safe than sorry.'"

Claire clasped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my gosh, Monica! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Monica said, grinning. "I mean, we're just trying. There's nothing to congratulate yet, not officially."

"Still counts," Charity said, reaching out to squeeze her friend's hand.

Marty was trembling with excitement. "Wait, Mon, it's not stealing your thunder to admit that we're trying too, is it?"

"No!" Monica cried. "Oh, Marty, that's awesome! I love that we're going through this at the same time."

Darla was not a good secret keeper, so she didn't even have to say anything… her face said it for her. Marty saw it first, pointing a finger at her.

"Oh, Dar, you too?" she asked.

Darla nodded. "Yeah. I mean, after Rick and I got Scout, we just started feeling very… parental."

"People do say that getting a dog is like getting a ‘practice baby,'" Monica observed laughingly.

Darla shrugged. "It worked out that way for us. We just realized that we're ready, you know?"

"Totally," Marty agreed. Then she paused. "Although… maybe let's not tell Mom until there's something to tell, huh?"

As everyone laughed, Monica said, "It's amazing that we're all in this together."

There was a pause and then the group turned in unison toward Claire.

She held up her hands. "Hey, now. Don't look at me like that. I'd like to get married before I start even thinking about adding babies to the mix."

"But you are thinking about getting married?" Darla prodded.

Claire shrugged, but her blush told a different story. "Not yet. We haven't been together that long, and we don't want to rush things. We want to enjoy every step of the process. But… yeah, I could see myself marrying Liam."

"My best ever B&B guest," Monica said wistfully. "I miss that guy."

Liam had lived at Literary Stays for several months, back when he thought his time in Whale Harbor might be temporary.

"We had dinner with you on Wednesday," Claire pointed out.

"Yeah," Monica said, "but it's not the same. Now it's all tourists who are here and gone in a week, too many of them to ever keep track of and… Wait. Sorry. I just realized I was complaining about business being brisk. Ignore me, please."

The rest of the group, who were all small business owners themselves, chuckled in understanding. They knew perfectly well that even though having lots of customers was a blessing, it could also be a burden.

Rose came over then, and they all put in their orders. Marty and Claire both ordered the stuffed French toast. Darla ordered the crab cakes. Charity and Monica, as they'd promised, got the eggs benedict… though Charity did still order the mimosa, the only one to do so, since Claire didn't drink often due to her lupus.

"What?" she said, mock defensive after she'd put in the order for the drink. " My kids are already half grown."

"You know," Marty said, drawing out the word speculatively. "I can't help but notice you said your kids , Char. I take that to mean things are going well with you and Dominic? Since we didn't get to grill you yet."

"Yeah, they're amazing," Charity said, an easy smile breaking out over her face. "Having a kid is so crazy, because you see this little creature and you think, ‘I will never love anyone as much as I love you.' But then they keep getting bigger, and even though you think you love them the absolute maximum, you somehow keep loving them more too." She shook her head in a fond, maternal way. "It's sort of similar. I logically know there was a time where I looked at Addie and just saw the kid from next door. But now I see her, and I think ‘I have always loved you as my own kid, obviously.'"

Darla felt her eyes prick with tears. Seeing Charity as such a wonderful model was one of the reasons she'd started feeling ready to become a mom herself, but hearing Charity talk about her children hit differently now that Darla was looking at that as part of her own future.

"That's beautiful," she murmured.

Charity shot her a grateful smile. "Yeah. You guys will all see, soon enough. But parenting is this wild mix of the mundane stuff like reminding your kids to find their shoes and then these amazing moments of feeling like you got smacked by a hammer of love, like bam ."

She pretended to rap her own knuckles against her head.

"That one was a little less poetic," Marty observed dryly, although her eyes also looked notably damp. "But still nice."

"Anyway," Charity continued, nudging Marty playfully. "All of this is to say, yes, things with Dominic are amazing. I love him, I love Addie, and I love Lucas, although that last one is not any kind of news. Although…" She grinned. "Speaking of news, Dominic and I are thinking of moving in together."

Monica gasped. "Way to bury the lede with all that mushy stuff!" she joked.

"It just doesn't make sense," Charity allowed. "We live next door to each other, but we spend all our time at one house or another. I've been starting to feel sadder and sadder about it when Lucas and I have to go home at bedtime. We feel more and more like a family, so I want us to live like a family. Together."

"Darn it," Marty muttered. "That was back to being poetic."

"Have you decided which of your houses you're going to sell?" Claire asked.

Charity scrunched her nose. "That's the more complicated question. There are a million things to consider, what with our mortgages, the resale value, and the paperwork of getting one person listed on the other person's deed." She blew out a breath. "I don't remember it being so complicated when I bought the house in the first place."

Darla's eyes met her sister's. The gleam in them told her that Marty was having the same idea as she was.

"You know," Darla said, just as Rose began to approach with a young server, carrying the plates of food they'd ordered. "Marty and I know somebody who would be more than happy to help you with all of that."