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Carly

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Memorial Day was still weeks away, and I was already looking forward to the end of the summer. It had nothing to do with the wave of tourists that would invade my simple little beach town, Holiday Cove, and everything to do with the impending invasion of my younger sister, Alesha, and all the drama that a seventeen-year-old could whip up.

Mostly over nothing.

I had a million things to do before she would get here—but first things first. I needed to get out of the uncomfortable phone conversation I’d been tangled up in for the past half-hour.

“—needs someplace safe, where she won’t get into trouble. You’re the only one Kelli and I trust to make sure she stays in line.”

“Yes, Dad, I understand,” I said into the phone, nodding my head as he rambled on about all the reasons why it’d be impossible for Alesha to go anywhere else for the summer. “I’m not saying I won’t take her. All I said was that if she pulls a stunt like she did last summer, you’re going to be buying her a ticket out of here.”

“I’ve already talked to her about that…” my father, Pat, replied, his voice tensing at my mention of Alesha’s antics a year ago. While I’d been working at my coffee shop, she’d gotten bored, hitchhiked down the coast with some surfer boys, and ended up arrested for getting stoned on the Santa Monica Pier with them.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, still able to recall the panic and eventual fury over the entire fiasco.

“Just tell me you’ll get her out of my hair if things go sideways,” I pleaded. I needed to know I had a parachute out of this mess.

“Okay, fine. If she gets to be too much, I’ll arrange for her to go stay with Grandma.” My dad paused and heaved a sigh that spoke volumes.

“Are you okay?” A hot tip of guilt slid down my belly. I’d been so wrapped up in anxiety over Alesha’s visit and ironing out the logistics that I hadn’t even bothered to ask my dad how he was doing. His pained sigh told me that something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m fine, Noodle,” he replied, his tone still heavy and weighted down. “There’s just a lot to do in the next couple of weeks to get ready for the trip. So the sooner I get Alesha squared away with you, the sooner I can get things figured out over here.”

I nodded. “Is Kelli still bugging you about having a baby?”

There. I’d said it.

My dad groaned. “Really, Carly? You think I want to get into that right now?”

I tossed my free hand dramatically into the air and spun on my heel to pace back to the other end of the counter. “I’m just asking. You sound…stressed.”

“Kelli and I will work that out between the two of us, thank you very much.”

I rolled my eyes and they landed on the silver-plated mermaid-shaped clock on the wall, above the archway that led to the kitchen in the back of my coffee shop. My heart jolted at the time. How was it already nine o’clock? Granted, I didn’t have any major plans for the rest of the evening, but the late hour surprised me. After closing up for the evening, I’d hung around, preparing some new recipes for the summer menu. But, it seemed…the hours just slipped away when I was lost in my kitchen.

“Don’t get so snarky, Dad. You’re the one who told me about it in the first place, ya know,” I reminded him, my tone pointed but not disrespectful.

“Yes, and if I recall, you’re exact words were ‘that’s what you get when you marry your mistress.’”

Okay. Not my finest hour.

Nearly three years ago, my father had married his secretary, whom he had seen for a couple of years before that. My mom and him had been divorced for years, so Kelli wasn’t technically his mistress, but to me, it still felt that way. Especially since Kelli was only a few years older than me, a good two decades younger than my father. Naturally, she wanted to start a family of her own, and had been putting the pressure on my father to give her a baby for the past couple of years.

“All right, all right. I’m sorry.” I sagged down and leaned on my elbows, braced against the counter. “It’s not that I don’t care or want to know, but it’s just…hard…to imagine you having a baby.”

“I understand. As of right now, there’s nothing to report. We have our hands full between the two businesses and dealing with Alesha’s theatrics.”

“Which, I’m sure is a ringing endorsement to have more kids,” I mumbled.

“I’ll text you the flight details and send some money to your account,” my dad said, the rising sound of other voices in the background growing louder. I could hear Kelli’s voice, but not clearly enough to make out what she was saying. “Listen, Noodle, I gotta go.”

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